Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 391 Psychological Burden (Second Update)

"Nick Fury won't give it to him." Salomon's booted feet were propped up on the desk. Maya Hansen leaned against the other side of the desk, somewhat unhappy after hearing the bad news. However, she didn't show it, instead idly playing with a poorly shaped plastic toy in her hand, mentally plotting when to shove it into Salomon's face.

Steve Rogers hadn't expected Salomon to be completely ignorant about boxing. From childhood, Salomon had participated in no-holds-barred fighting; he was just as dangerous unarmed as he was armed, and the gloves couldn't diminish his superhuman strength. That day at the boxing gym, Salomon made a fortune because those guys bet on Steve Rogers to win—they'd seen him hit the heavy bag; breaking a heavy bag in a day was no ordinary feat. In comparison, Salomon, who looked like a pampered rich kid, seemed far weaker.

Nick Fury was right. While Steve Rogers was moved by some of his ideas, he remained unconvinced. In Fury's eyes, he was a soldier fighting for freedom, so Salomon didn't waste much time trying to persuade him. Since he was a soldier, not someone like the Sorcerer Supreme who could see the end of time, their perspectives were different, and there was no need to say much. However, Salomon believed Nick Fury wouldn't let him off so easily; many more people would come to talk to him. Agent Coulson and Natasha were both possibilities; he could ignore the former, but the latter might knock on his apartment door.

The scene might turn out quite ugly.

As for Tony Stark, he strongly agreed with Salomon's ideas. He had always wanted to find a way to protect humanity from aliens, and the two were on the same page on this point, except that Stark had more faith in machines.

Human experimentation was a necessary step. The Extremis virus, a superior gene-editing tool, edited the human genome as a whole; animal genes were of no help to Maya Hansen's experiments, and they lacked the resources to breed experimental animals with human organs. They possessed genetic samples from many organisms—Thora, ordinary Asgardian soldiers, Malekith, the Dark Elf King (blood taken from his armor), and Salomon himself. In addition, there were genetic samples from various magical creatures. These were Maya Hansen's initial research materials; she wanted to understand whether magic manifested at the genetic level.

She and Salomon planned to use the Extremis virus to edit certain genes into experimental subjects, and then observe the epigenetic characteristics of those gene fragments to determine which gene fragments a particular talent originated from.

This is an extremely difficult and time-consuming task.

Maya Hansen was pleased that Salomon had set a bigger goal for her, but she knew she couldn't run the entire laboratory alone; the workload was simply too great. Even after taking the red potion Salomon had given her, and even though Salomon had promised her immortality and eternal youth and beauty, she was still just a mortal, a mortal with a rather long lifespan.

"I will find you test subjects," Salomon sighed.

His reason for wanting to use criminals already recognized by human society as experimental subjects was that he knew he currently lacked the power to judge humanity; that power belonged to various human nations, and he was unwilling to disrupt the established order. Yes, he had witnessed the atrocities committed by al-Qaeda, which was supported by the United States, but he had never paid any attention to them.

It wasn't because he didn't abhor those evil deeds that exceeded human capacity to bear, but because he had no power and he followed the rules.

However, the current situation is that he has to seize this power himself. He has to go to the most chaotic places in the world to bring judgment to those human scum who would stuff people alive into meat grinders, those thugs who would contribute every inch of their flesh and blood on the operating table to build the foundation for Salomon's ideals.

He will find orphans who submit to him there, bring them back, educate them with whips and books, and train them with knives and guns. Then he will send the qualified ones to the operating table. He will dress them in armor and equip them with weapons, and they will stand with him on the battlefield, charging fearlessly against the enemies of humanity, fulfilling their tragic wish to save the world with their own lives.

"The question is, can you bear this pain, Maya?" Salomon looked up at his biological advisor. Even if the genetic modification experiments were successful, many problems would remain. This was different from the Extremis Virus warriors that Killian recruited from retired US military personnel; Maya Hansen would live with those children in the Immortal City. She would educate them, and they would respect her and love her like family. Then she would watch as those who couldn't be modified died deformed, and even those who survived and completed the modifications might perish in some battle.

This was a heavy psychological burden for both Maya Hansen and Salomon. Salomon was prepared to shoulder this responsibility, but he didn't know if Maya Hansen was. Silence enveloped the entire office, with only a few rays of light illuminating the two of them in the darkness. Salomon moved his fingers, and the office window opened. The astonishing smell of death emanating from the ever-rolling, post-war ruins of the Immortal City roused Maya Hansen from her silence.

“I’m not inhuman; on the contrary, I cherish humanity quite a bit, even if it’s an obstacle to my grand plans.” Salomon rose from his high-backed chair. He didn’t look at Maya Hansen’s shadowy expression. Salomon went around to the other side of the table, piled up the parchment scattered on it, and closed the lid of the ceramic inkwell.

"I'm sorry to ask you to dedicate yourself to this cause, Maya." He put his arm around the biologist's shoulder and patted her back. "We will do many unacceptable things, but you must remember what we are doing it for, and I hope you can use reason to judge."

"I know," Maya Hansen replied calmly. "I'll remember."

Salomon loosened his embrace, looking into Maya Hansen's light brown eyes, trying to lighten the mood. "I've left you a big golden retriever; you can name it when you have time," he said with a smile. "If you like, you can keep the sheep too. But that would make the golden retriever think it's a sheepdog, and you'd have to correct its misconception."

Maya Hansen burst out laughing. "ROOT really likes that golden retriever the druids keep," she said. "She even gives it dog treats."

"You're in charge of taking care of ROOT until that damn machine comes back. Have you decided what to name it?" Salomon raised an eyebrow. After the server was installed, ROOT was dispatched by the AI ​​to perform missions. The AI's explanation was that the promised extension of ROOT's physical capabilities forced ROOT to undertake a series of dangerous tasks.

After the restrictions were lifted, the AI ​​even complained to Salomon in a very dissatisfied tone.

Salomon didn't know what the artificial intelligence's mission was, nor did he care. It was enough that the artificial intelligence understood that Salomon posed a genuine threat. Prophecy magic wasn't subject to logical reasoning; it knew it had to surrender to magic, because Salomon had already roughly pinpointed its hiding place.

"Not for now." Maya Hansen raised an eyebrow, the gloom that had been clouding her face vanishing. "But I do have an idea for now. I won't tell you unless you pay for your pay-TV subscription first; it's my only entertainment."

"Good heavens, don't we have an electronic God? Why do we still need to pay for a TV membership? This is unbelievable!"

Please vote! Those who skipped the subscription, please catch up, otherwise it would be silly if someone who hasn't seen it popped up.

(End of this chapter)