Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 441 Candy Bouquet (Second Update)

Salomon, dressed in his most expensive suit, with his hair neatly combed, picked up the prepared bouquet and crossed the portal, arriving at the witch's apartment. Unsurprisingly, Bayonetta and Jeanne d'Arc, dressed in tight-fitting combat suits, were sitting on the sofa with their legs crossed, drinking. Laura Crawford sat somewhat awkwardly to the side. Although she also held a wine glass, she wasn't as relaxed as Bayonetta, not only because she looked exhausted, but also because a dagger lay on the living room table.

This dagger was one of Laura's main weapons for killing enemies on that deserted island. Although she had transformed from an ordinary female college student into a strong adventurer, the arrival of the witches slightly delayed this process. More importantly, she had no idea that the two women before her, whose figures would make any man or woman's blood boil, were actually related to Salomon.

The sorcerer, unusually rude, ignored Laura sitting to the side. He walked over to Bayonetta with a smile, then pulled out a specially prepared "bouquet" from behind his back—a sweet bouquet made of many pink, rose-shaped lollipops. These potion-made candies could restore some magic power and were Bayonetta's favorite. Before Jeanne could speak, Salomon preemptively apologized for his mistake. He felt he hadn't considered Bayonetta's tastes, neglecting the witch's usual preferences.

He promised he wouldn't do it again.

Bayonetta narrowed her eyes and happily accepted the gift. At the same time, she picked up the dagger; the worn and nicked blade bore Salomon's personal mark. She pressed the blade against Salomon's Adam's apple, the cold, dangerous aura constantly stimulating the arcane's throat. Her eyes betrayed neither pleasure nor threat.

The witch seemed to be reminding Salomon that she was far more dangerous than the knife.

This was a prototype Salomon made while learning forging in Rodana. It was made of ordinary steel, but because it had undergone folding and forging techniques and was very handy, Salomon gave it to someone who needed it. At that time, that person was Laura; no one needed a weapon for close combat more than her.

He smelled the shower gel. Laura was wearing the same T-shirt and jeans Salomon had stored in her closet. Clearly, the witches had made her take a shower after bringing her back, and those dirty clothes had probably been thrown away long ago. Laura's wounds were bandaged, and the female adventurer's hair was wet, her cheeks, hidden by her long hair, were very rosy.

Although the witches said they were unhappy, they took good care of Laura. They even gave her a glass of strong liquor to calm her down after she took a bath.

Not only that, the food stored in the refrigerator had also disappeared. Laura let out a soft burp. Her aristocratic manners made her react quickly, and she covered her mouth with her hand to avoid an impolite situation. Even so, she still felt extremely embarrassed.

"Clearly, you gave me more than just a gift." The witch licked her lips and spoke in a soft, feather-like tone, "It seems you're a bad boy; you need more severe punishment."

As she spoke, she moved the dagger downwards. Even after battle, the sharp blade easily sliced ​​through shirt buttons and skin. Bayonetta stared intently into Salomon's eyes, her swan-like neck arched, and Salomon could even feel the witch's sweet, warm breath on his skin.

"Darling, this isn't the right place..."

Joan of Arc quickly stepped forward and pulled Bayonetta away, and Laura Crawford's cheeks seemed to become even redder.

"I'll let you off the hook for now, you naughty child." Bayonetta's tone rose slightly with a hint of pleasure, seemingly quite satisfied with Salomon's physiological response.

"Since we still have time today, let's hear your adventure stories," Salomon clapped his hands, and the heavy curtains immediately drew shut, blocking out the blinding New York City sunlight. He clapped again, and several large blankets flew out of the bedroom and covered everyone. Although there was no fuel in the fireplace, a symbolic flame flickered, its heatless flames so intense they seemed like a holographic projection.

Salomon snuggled into Bayonetta's blanket, pressing himself close to her. The witch winked playfully, and her black battle suit, woven from her beautiful hair, slowly disappeared. Salomon's heart raced, especially when the witch placed her legs on his knees; he felt as if his soul was being carried away by Bayonetta's lips as she kissed his earlobe.

Diana, expressionless, poured some wine into everyone's glasses, and also brought Salomon a new glass. The living room, where Laura awaited her lecture, was furnished with blankets, whiskey, and a fireplace, instantly creating an atmosphere of leisurely conversation typical of a middle-class Victorian home. However, the atmosphere in Bayonetta's room was somewhat erotic; the witch was teasing Salomon in various ways. For example, she would suddenly squeeze her thighs together, suddenly breathe into Salomon's ear, or trace patterns on his chest with her fingertips.

Bayonetta loved watching Salomon struggle with a flushed face, and whenever this happened, her cute toes would involuntarily tense up.

Laura Crawford took a sip of her drink, her face flushed, and began to recount her adventure.

[For details, please refer to Tomb Raider 9]

"I am very grateful to Ms. Bayonetta and Ms. Jeanne for their help; the yacht they provided helped my companion escape the desert island..."

“So, a soul that should belong to Madame Butterfly didn’t go to the abyss, but instead attempted to reincarnate in the mortal world. Meanwhile, your companion is a descendant of that witch.” Salomon stated what he already knew, looking at Bayonetta and Joan of Arc. His expression suddenly hardened, the hesitation vanishing instantly, for the question he was about to ask was very serious. “Are you prepared to rebel against the Sovereign?” Salomon asked softly, “The price of a witch’s contract is common, but also deadly.”

"Would you simply let my soul fall into the abyss?"

"Of course not. Even if I have to go into the abyss myself, I will retrieve your souls," Salomon said. "I haven't fully figured out the background of that Queen of Sheba yet, I only know that she is related to Lilith. You also saw that succubus during the last incident with the Devil's Son. Fortunately, she didn't bring the monsters she gave birth to last time, but instead summoned vampires from the mortal world, otherwise we might have been caught off guard."

"I can live as long as you can, little boy. A thousand years isn't enough for us to squander."

"So what became of the witch named Himiko?"

"Stay there," Joan of Arc glanced at Laura Crawford out of the corner of her eye, "lest some ignorant people trespass into that place."

"Do demons really exist in this world?" Laura interjected.

"Yes, there are three demon summoners right in front of you." Salomon pointed to Phoenix sleeping beside him. "This one is a demon god, you know. Phoenix's hobbies are writing poetry and singing, but not everyone can listen to his songs."

Laura froze. "One of the seventy-two demons! I've read *The Key of Solomon*. What about this one?" She cautiously pointed to the Cheshire Cat sleeping on her lap. "This isn't a demon either, is it? It's not Baal, is it?"

"No, it's a fat cat from Avalon."

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(End of this chapter)