Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 395 The Secret of Resurrection (Second Update)

The scene of the massacre was not a suitable place for little Lorna to linger. Salomon didn't particularly like Athena's gentle, Spartan-style education, but he persisted, simply believing that little Lorna and the children in the orphanage might not need such a rigorous curriculum. He had his objections, but Athena always managed to leave him speechless.

"Are you going to protect her?" The goddess of wisdom didn't even glance at him. "Can you protect her for the rest of your life in this extremely dangerous world? Why do you think I teach them martial arts? It's to give them a voice in this world! Survival is the most important thing. Only those with ability have the right to speak. Keeping them away from combat is depriving them of their right to live. None of the children I've taught are the type to hide under a table and scream, not a single one. So, let little Lorna try, at least so her hands don't tremble when she sees a dead body."

Little Lorna looked like she was about to vomit, so Salomon quickly tucked the petite girl under his arm like a briefcase and carried her out. The smell of blood was unpleasant, but at least she shouldn't vomit at the crime scene; that would be terrible. Don't forget to bring the pistol; we'll be doing shooting practice later. Athena said to kill a rat, so we definitely have to kill a rat.

"Don't throw up here. You definitely don't want Minerva to see you like this," Salomon sighed. Little Lorna's skin was cool in the sweltering summer heat; the shock of the massacre was still too much for her. "Remember Minerva's best friend? The painter who lived in Hell's Kitchen and hooked up with a rich guy? You definitely remember her. I've never seen such stream-of-consciousness paintings. Vanessa, remember? The one who smeared white paint on the canvas. Let's go find her; she can get you a glass of lemonade."

Vanessa was very hospitable; she not only gave Salomon and little Lorna lemonade but also a chilled towel for little Lorna. "Minerva told me you got into Oxford, congratulations, Salomon," she said, sitting on the sofa and wiping little Lorna's forehead with the towel. This made little Lorna look much better. Vanessa continued, "Little Lorna has taken painting lessons with me, but unlike you, I don't think she has much talent in that area."

"None of us have much talent for abstract art."

"vomit--"

"Oh my God!" Vanessa exclaimed first, then quickly patted little Lorna's back and wiped away the vomit with a towel. Her movements were gentle, but little Lorna still looked up at Salomon with red eyes. She felt very ashamed. Vanessa obviously noticed it too.

"Why is that?" she asked. "Where did you take her? Don't try to lie to me, I can smell blood."

"I was just passing by a murder scene."

"where?"

Salomon didn't answer. Vanessa glared at him.

“It’s none of my business. Only the police care where someone died. People die in Hell’s Kitchen every day, it’s nothing special,” she said. “What I care about is letting such a young child see those things. How old is she? She hasn’t even finished high school yet…”

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"How did the talks go?"

"Not good." Harold Finch sat back down at his computer, letting out a long sigh. Being back under the air conditioner felt wonderful, but his neck was still stiff, and the stinging pain persisted. He blinked, trying to clear his sun-slicked-back head. His hands groped across the desk, especially under the folders, hoping to find something round.

"Looking for this?" Harold Finch stiffened at the clinking of the medicine bottle. Mr. Rither pushed his wheelchair closer, shaking the small orange bottle on the shelf. "OxyContin, Finch," Mr. Rither said, placing the bottle back in Finch's hand. "You've already taken it; don't overdose."

“I need it, Mr. Reese,” Harold Finch sighed. He took off his glasses, opened the vial, and poured out a white pill. “Just one; I’ll control the dosage.”

"Very well, may I hear your conversation?" Mr. Reese frowned. "Officer Carter is going crazy. The homicide squad's workload is ridiculously high. Do you think we need to tell her who committed those crimes? 'Let that guy take care of some scum, I'm not arresting him, he makes our job much easier,' guess who said that?"

"Detective Frosco? At least you sound like him."

"Yes. Officer Carter wants to catch Cassel; she wants to put Cassel in court. She believes that if things continue like this, innocent people will inevitably be dragged into the crossfire sooner or later, and she believes we definitely know who the killer is."

"She's right. But that's too dangerous for the police, Mr. Reese. He can take down twenty people at once. They need SWAT, they need the assistance of the Secret Service, and they need a thorough investigation by the District Attorney's office. This isn't something one or two people can handle. Let the New York City government worry about it. We'll try to reach an agreement with Frank Cassel to deal with criminals in a more humane way, avoiding harm to innocent civilians. Otherwise, I'd rather warn him about his target."

This is the only thing we can do. In this desperate city, any good person is capable of picking up a gun and solving problems with violence. Until you're healed, keep Officer Carter and Fusco away from this danger; they have their dirty work to do with those cops.

"Oh, right." Harold Finch handed the potion Salomon had given him to his partner. Seeing Rither's questioning look, Finch explained its purpose, finally adding his own opinion: "This looks like some kind of potion made from lizards and bats; I'm sure it doesn't taste very good."

"You only just remembered something this important?"

"Sorry, a headache is taking over my brain."

"Whatever." Rither pulled out the stopper and drank the potion in one gulp.

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It was quite late when Salomon and Lorna returned to Athena's apartment. Vanessa, being overly enthusiastic, insisted that Salomon not drive and instead personally took them both back to Athena's place. Then, she had a huge argument with Athena about Lorna's situation.

Salomon didn't get involved in women's arguments. He opened the car door, got into the driver's seat, and stopped when he was about to start the car.

"Hey Agent Coulson, you look terrible," he said.

"Yeah, someone who's been dead for days must look terrible." Agent Coulson tried to use his humor when facing Salomon, though it didn't really help. "I know about Tahiti."

"You died, then you were resurrected, and then what?" Salomon turned to look at Agent Coulson, whose face was half-hidden in darkness. He said bluntly, "If you want to ask anything, just make a call."

"You know what they did to me, don't you?" Agent Coulson appeared calm, but in truth, his heart was far from tranquil. A few days earlier, unbeknownst to Salomon (as mentioned in the prison events of previous chapters), Agent Coulson had been kidnapped by a group in exchange for the child of one of his recruited Centipede Warriors (Peterson, mentioned earlier, please add the chapter if you don't remember). This group was acting on the orders of a man known as "Clairvoyance," who wanted to uncover the secret of Coulson's resurrection.

Agent Coulson briefly explained the experience to Salomon.

Agent Coulson, too, began to doubt his own memories. He readily accepted the organization's torture, relying on some kind of brain-stimulating device to recall what happened after his death. Then, he witnessed a scene he didn't want to accept—while he was still alive, his skull was removed, and a sophisticated instrument was wielding a robotic arm and needles, repeatedly stimulating the areas of his brain that were now active with electrical currents.

It was an excellent brainwashing device, but the prerequisite was that the memory being erased had to be the present memory. Therefore, Agent Coulson had to remain conscious throughout the process and watch helplessly as he underwent this inhuman torture.

Even after being rescued, he did not tell any of his teammates about the experience.

"I don't know how you view death, Agent Coulson," Salomon said earnestly, "but I've always believed you didn't need brainwashing. My magic didn't help much during the resurrection because I didn't summon your soul. Nick Fury didn't know this; he always thought I summoned your soul."

Does resurrection require a soul?

"must."

"Then how did I survive? I don't believe GH-325 has any effect on the soul; it's a drug for treating serious injuries."

"Rotting Kree blood isn't that powerful, of course. The Kree's constitution is only slightly better than humans'; their wounds heal more easily. Remember what I said before, Agent Coulson?" Salomon smiled. "Although we don't interfere much in worldly affairs, you can save the world. Even if you go to hell, we'll bring you back."

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)