Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 433 Quality of Life (Second Update)

"Master, it's better not to work during mealtimes." Diana's earnest advice was ignored by Salomon, which made the maid's expression even more distressed.

"Furthermore, I strongly object to you watching the women's high jump competition on TV while you're working and eating!" The android maid stood in front of the four-poster bed and pulled up the curtains facing the television. "That's so unhealthy. You can't indulge yourself just because the witches aren't home!"

"I was just admiring the muscles of a healthy woman," Salomon clicked his tongue, but he didn't object to the maid's arrogant behavior. He shifted his gaze back to the visitor log Diana had submitted to him regarding the past few days. The visit from the Little King Sorcerer on behalf of the Sorcerer Supreme was listed first, and what the Little King Sorcerer said was also highlighted—unsurprisingly, the Little King Sorcerer conveyed information about the witches' activities; the planetary defense system had detected their magic. Since this wasn't an extradimensional invasion or the work of dark magic creatures, Kamar-Taj couldn't easily intervene, and the witches' actions essentially filled a gap in Kamar-Taj's security.

Salomon skewered a piece of cutlet of meat and stuffed it into his mouth. With the beef sauce that Dina had made, the mage, whose stomach was empty, wished he could lick the plate clean. However, the manners he had learned from Athena restricted his actions, and he could only try to get as much sauce as possible onto the meat.

He wasn't worried at all about the witches' actions, nor was he concerned that Laura Crawford might suffer an accident due to her increased combat power. That female archaeologist was incredibly resilient, and no matter how much a spirit wreaked havoc, it couldn't escape death. Furthermore, Bayonetta and Joan of Arc's attitude towards their witch predecessor was intriguing. Kamar-Taj didn't insist that the witches destroy that soul, because the storms and fog it stirred up had indirectly protected a node in a sea dragon vein, keeping that place away from worldly disturbances.

Turn to the next page of the record, Wakanda and the Martian Foundry.

Salomon thought for a moment, then finally picked up his phone and sent T'Challa an email. The email concerned the deployment of the Martian exploration team and the plan to build an unmanned factory, arranging a time and place to discuss the details in person. In this plan, he would obtain the technology to forge armor and vehicles from the Wakanda, and as agreed, the weapons, equipment, and metal materials produced from the Martian mines would be equally distributed between Wakanda and Salomon's immortal city.

Before the meal ended, Salomon contacted all the missed visitors. But some couldn't be resolved with just an email; Salomon had to meet with them in person.

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Athena pinched Salomon's cheek, frowning as she examined him over and over.

She sensed that Salomon seemed different, a feeling similar to that of her god-king father—a power that unconsciously influenced others. It was as if he had ascended to a higher level of existence, something mortals couldn't achieve. Athena had only ever witnessed this in the Sorcerer Supreme.

Before Salomon could protest, the goddess of wisdom relented.

"I don't like your shampoo." After thinking for a while, Athena finally found something to complain about to highlight her dignity as an adoptive mother. However, Salomon was already quite used to Athena's nitpicking. He readily agreed, then swaggered onto the sofa and squeezed in with Athena to eat fruit. The goddess of wisdom naturally reached out and pulled her adopted son into her arms.

"I really don't like your shampoo." Athena sniffed Salomon's hair. "The rose scent is too feminine."

"I must have accidentally used the witches' shampoo today; I can't tell the difference." The sorcerer shrugged, the curly black hair tickling Athena. "Who told me my eyes were covered in face wash?"

"Don't you have maids?" Athena said, pointing to the door. "You even had them come with you in armor. Don't you think they can take care of you?"

"I'm not so bad that I need someone to help me bathe," Salomon shook his head, showing a hint of disdain. His change in expression did not escape the notice of the goddess of wisdom, who gave her adopted son a sharp tap on the head, and then began to teach Salomon about the bathing culture of ancient Rome, starting with Théodore Chassério's painting "The Baths of Ancient Rome."

"Aphrodite was the most popular goddess in the ancient Roman baths. The Venus statue you see in the National Archaeological Museum of Naples, Italy, was sculpted by me," Athena continued with a hint of mockery. "I had my own private baths in ancient Rome, where I sculpted statues of all the Olympian gods. If you see anyone say that the Venus statue came from the Baths of Caracas, just consider it nonsense. I specifically donated the Aphrodite statue to that bath. Nothing is more suitable for a mixed-gender bath than a naked statue of Aphrodite."

Athena can't help but burst into laughter whenever she talks about her past mischievous antics. Especially when she sees her old rival being humiliated, even the goddess of wisdom can't help but open up.

"That woman who only arouses lust... If Emperor Adriano hadn't noticed something amiss and promptly banned mixed bathing, the magic on that statue would still be going on. My statue is placed in the bathhouse library, and the philosophers naturally know where they're going."

"Of course, I'm not trying to tell you how bad the atmosphere was in the ancient Roman baths; I just want you to be more serious about life. It's undeniable that ancient Roman art and philosophy made great strides in the baths."

The goddess of wisdom took a sip of her wine. "You can look at that painting, 'The Bathing in Caracalla.' The scene isn't too different from historical fact. In my opinion, it wouldn't matter if you scattered roses like Eragabalus. You're neglecting your quality of life too much."

"Elagabalus was assassinated by his own men, Mother," Salomon said weakly, his voice barely audible as Athena gripped his neck. Athena's example of the absurdities of ancient Roman emperors was hardly convincing. She seemed to realize this, naturally ignoring her adopted son's rebuttal. She continued to berate Salomon as if his inability to enjoy life was some heinous crime.

She began to list the procedures people went through to enter the baths in ancient Rome, and urged Salomon to do so.

"You slept for days without applying any essential oils, didn't exercise before bathing, didn't go to a sauna, didn't soak in a hot tub for an hour, and certainly didn't drink or engage in philosophical contemplation." The goddess of wisdom looked at Salomon as if he were a barbarian. "Are you trying to emulate those filthy Christians?"

"Christians aren't always dirty..."

"That's even worse! Christians bathe in wooden tubs, looking like country bumpkins, yet they pretend to be holy. Do you think I don't know what the nuns in those monasteries are like? In ancient Rome, only the poor who couldn't afford baths used wooden tubs. The nobles went to public or private baths. Since everyone did the same thing, baths were naturally better than wooden tubs," Athena said indignantly. "If those barbaric Christians hadn't demolished my bathhouse, I could still take you to see my old home!"

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(End of this chapter)