Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 448 New Blood for the Sorority (First Update)

Joan of Arc, brimming with confidence, cast a chilling gaze—enough to freeze boiling water—at the person sitting opposite her, as if that person were nothing more than an insignificant insect in her eyes. She picked up her martini glass, took a sip, and then gave a soft snort, fully expressing her disdain. Her long white hair was piled high, her gold openwork earrings swayed with her movements, her slender legs were unabashedly propped up on the black glass tabletop, and her red-soled high heels hung casually on her toes. The white-haired witch, seated on the enormous sofa, exuded elegance.

She ordered an apple martini, the same as Bayonetta. Salomon, not to be outdone, narrowed his eyes and placed the rum on the ice back on the sofa armrest.

As he reached out his hand, bracing for Joan's murderous gaze, she immediately pushed a card out of her hand with her thumb. Salomon's fingers brushed past the card without hesitation, but he couldn't budge the cards Joan was clutching tightly. He changed cards, but Joan still held them firmly, showing no sign of letting go.

The white-haired witch glanced at Salomon nonchalantly, then pushed the card out again, as if to emphasize something. Both she and Salomon possessed power far exceeding that of ordinary humans, and only extraordinary playing cards could withstand the pull of two superhumans on her white hair. The struggle between the witch and the sorcerer took place on the playing cards made of demonic bones. The mind-reading spells they instinctively cast at each other collided in their eyes, creating purple and gold sparks, and the air was filled with the magical aura generated by their intense confrontation.

Rodin glanced at the booth, and after confirming that nothing had happened, he continued to cuddle the Cheshire Cat.

The black-haired witch, watching the fight unfold, smiled merrily. She winked at Salomon and then gave her a hint.

Joan of Arc raised her delicate chin, her expression tense, her eyes fixed on Salomon's fingers. The helpless sorcerer could only pick up the card that had been pushed forward. The white-haired witch breathed a sigh of relief, then quickly regained her haughty arrogance. "You lost!" she shouted with satisfaction. "With Diana gone, it's your turn to do the dishes. And we agreed not to use magic!"

"Okay, okay." Salomon shrank back into the sofa, picked up the rum that had become a little weak, and took a sip. It's just washing dishes, it's not like he's never done it before.

“Darling, you still haven’t told me where you sent Diana,” Bayonetta said. “Your maid has been very busy lately. Last time, Joan of Arc accidentally ate a Hawaiian pizza. She almost turned the living room upside down.”

"It was you, Ceresia!" Joan of Arc retorted without hesitation. "I'm not Italian."

"Say what you will," Bayonetta whistled. "And what about you, Boya?"

"I sent Dinah and the android squad to buy military equipment." Salomon told her without hesitation about the maids' and the sorority's movements. "They should be in Ukraine now, making secret deals with those officers. But I think they'll bring back something else."

"for example?"

“Some girls.” Salomon shrugged. He had told the sorority’s leadership that everything has its limits, and he wouldn’t keep making androids forever. Using aether particles could mass-produce androids, but their souls would forever remain attached to his. The bodies in those incubation tanks were there to prepare for their resurrection—this was the immortality service Salomon had promised the sorority.

If the sorority is to continue to grow, then recruiting ordinary people and training and reforming them is essential.

Due to factors such as the collapse of the Soviet Union and the bloody wars in the Balkans, many Eastern European countries have fallen into a vortex of barbarity. Armed gangs, smuggling groups, human traffickers, and pimps have formed a blood-devouring industrial chain that kidnaps and lures girls from conflict zones and poor countries and sells them to Western Europe.

In Romania, Ukraine, Moldova, Kosovo, Bosnia, and even Russia, this can happen at any time. These devils tell girls that they can become models and live a good life if they go to Western European countries, or they simply tell the girls that they can take them out to eat.

Compared to being forced into prostitution, suffering from disease and abuse, and having their organs harvested or left to die on the streets after being exploited, joining the sorority and undergoing rigorous training and rehabilitation would be a better option. Salomont declared to Diana that all women, regardless of their physical condition, would be taken away. Those who were unwilling to join the sorority, were too old, or had physical disabilities could still work in the Immortal City and enjoy the rights of being human.

Dina and almost all of her sorority members, except those already on a mission, have been mobilized, traveling in newly built stealth aircraft, carrying money and food to search for the Russian mafia and Albanian gangs. This will be a bloody massacre in the dark corners of so-called "civilized society." For this mission, Salomon has granted the sorority unlimited firing rights; all existing heavy weapons are permitted to be used, and they are even allowed to engage in firefights with local armed forces.

There is no mercy under the blaster and the longsword.

After this mission, Dinah will also use information provided by Elijah to wipe out the human trafficking gangs in New York City.

"Well done." Rodin, holding the Cheshire Cat, emerged from behind the bar. "I thought you were as rigid as those sorcerers. When you asked Enzo for detailed information on those people, I even thought you were going to engage in human trafficking. I apologize. How about a nice drink? My treat."

"Aren't you a demon? Why are you being so kind?"

"Damn it, I'm a fallen angel!" Rodin rolled his eyes, but he was wearing sunglasses, so no one could see him.

“I cannot directly intervene in this matter; it would violate the precepts set by His Holiness,” Salomon sighed. “I am still a member of Kamar-Taj, and my current power does not allow me to save them. But I can have the homunculus save them, which does not violate the precepts of Kamar-Taj. As long as they reach the Immortal City, they can live, because they are human.”

"Boya, you are such a kind child. I was right about you."

"Of course, I have to find a way to use up the little kindness I have left." He patted the long and short swords at his waist. "Besides, I haven't been in a fight in a long time."

"Count me in!" Joan of Arc slammed her long legs down on the table, slamming her cards on the table. She was thrilled by Salomon's words. "Not with your maids, I'm going somewhere they've never been!" the white-haired witch exclaimed excitedly. "I just want to get some exercise now and then, don't get the wrong idea! You still have to do the dishes!"

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A fierce gust of wind rushed in through the cargo door of the stealth aircraft, but couldn't penetrate the androids' armor. The biting wind only fluttered their blood-red robes, and pairs of deep red electronic eyes, hidden behind plexiglass, stared at the building below. Beside them were a group of girls wrapped in seatbelts and dirty blankets, cold and hungry. Most of the androids ignored their concerns, as Dina hadn't yet announced the girls' role to all the androids.

Until the androids from another spacecraft arrived, responsible for cleaning, disinfection, and rapid infectious disease testing, the androids were temporarily prohibited from direct contact with the girls. However, the sorority still distributed food and water to them. The girls were extremely emotionally unstable after escaping from hell on earth, but under the gaze of the sorority's power armor with its blood-red eyes, the trembling girls dared not cry out loud.

"Madam, you mean Master agrees to let us use heavy weapons?" Tita's somewhat muffled voice came from inside her helmet as she asked Diana, who had her back to her. "I think using field artillery in the suburbs is a bit too much."

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(End of this chapter)