Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 465 A Terrible Student (Second Update)

The Cheshire Cat tried to lick the chocolate on Joan of Arc's fingertip, but the witch held its head down tightly.

This chubby cat is the complete opposite of elegant. It's a gluttonous, lazy, and constantly complaining fairy cat, its belly stuffed full of premium cat food. It leaps from one sofa to another, and sheds fur everywhere. This cat has no redeeming qualities; it embodies all the worst traits of cats in the world. The only endearing thing about it is its plump, cylindrical body, which feels wonderful to the touch—making it a favorite toy for witches.

Ignoring the fat cat's struggles, Diana lifted it from the witch's lap and began scrubbing its belly fur vigorously with a brush, as the flying cat hair offended her sacred mistress. This cat hair would also provide a nest for the mischievous Pike, who lingered at the apartment entrance, preventing the troublemakers from soiling the floor.

Salomon moved a chair next to Bayonetta and gently kissed her outstretched, slender, white hand. "Madam, what movie would you like to see today?" Salomon asked in French. Bayonetta understood it, as it was the common language in the apartment.

"I hope it'll lift my spirits," the sorcerer said. "I need a movie that's a little bit stimulating."

"Then you'll have to go find your own tree (a reference to The Count of Monte Cristo)." The projector's shifting light shone on the witch's face. Thanks to Amber's excellent genes, the witch was still stunningly beautiful even in the dim light. Especially when Bayonetta's eyes widened, the witch, with her classically beautiful face, revealed a touch of cuteness. As a symbol of her pact with the devil, Bayonetta's beauty mark was located at the corner of her mouth, while Joan of Arc's was below her eye.

"Today we're watching 'Breakfast at Tiffany'."

"If it's as a film recommended by Givenchy, I can accept it; I trust Audrey Hepburn's fashion sense. Perhaps we can refer to that off-the-shoulder dress in 'Sabrina' for your dress." Salomon switched back to English. "Oh, I still remember that theme song! Wherever you go, I'll be with you. Two drifters, traveling the world."

"My lovely child, I never expected you to know 'Moon River'." Bayonetta happily popped a piece of chocolate into Salomon's mouth. "That's my favorite song!"

Joan of Arc couldn't help but stomp her foot in protest. "Hey! You two! We're watching a movie right now!"

"Sorry." Salomon raised an eyebrow, but there was no trace of apology on his face. Seeing Diana busy grooming the Cheshire Cat, he summoned an invisible servant to pour champagne for both the witch and himself. "To this beautiful evening." He finished the chilled drink and let out a long sigh. "To this relaxing time."

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"Magic incantations are like engines, and magic power is the fuel. I'm repeating this because it's important. Running an engine requires a certain amount of fuel, and without my guidance, you've drained and spilled it." Salomon looked at the broken building block at his feet and shook his head helplessly. His tone was somewhat disappointed because when he took the time to check on Wanda Maximov, he found that the girl hadn't completed the homework he had assigned.

This block looks as if it has been squeezed in a hydraulic press. If it weren't for the red paint on it that barely makes out its shape, no one would be able to tell what this thing covered in sharp wood chips is.

Wanda looked somewhat embarrassed.

When this sudden power appeared within her, she didn't even think about controlling it. She didn't know what her magic could do, nor why Salomon insisted that she control it. Whenever she asked this question, the arcane mage would always scan her body with the cold gaze of someone sizing up prey—some things were secrets to Wanda Maximoff, and Salomon wouldn't tell her that part of the truth for the time being.

The most suitable teaching material for her was none other than the Dark Book, compiled by Morgan le Fay through his work on Sithon's Dark Scrolls. All vampires and werewolves were able to appear in the world through the power of this great enemy, and Wanda could use Sithon's power to cast spells from the book without needing complicated incantations.

That book was a long-term mission for Salomon, but he had to shelve it because there were so few clues. Even with the Dark Book in hand, Salomon wouldn't hand it over to Wanda, because the souls of everyone who had studied the Dark Book belonged to Sithon.

Without exception, the Great Shadow always reclaims His bills; Salomon believes He is eager to reclaim the soul of Wanda, a tool He specially forged. Perhaps, under certain circumstances, the Book of Darkness or the scattered scrolls of Darkness will suddenly appear beside Wanda, tempting her to study them.

For Wanda Maximoff now, before seeing the Dark Book, her soul was still free, and all the costs of the spells could still be repaid through other means. Each time Salomon visited her, he brought her a live rabbit, demanding that Wanda slowly strangle the adorable rabbit, bit by bit, by tightening her grip, never taking her eyes off the struggling creature, and by feeling the pain within her. As the price to pay, the animals sent would not only be rabbits.

Before figuring out the Great Shadow's intentions, Salomon will try his best to prevent this tool from falling into the hands of her creator, even if the method is somewhat cruel to ordinary people, it is still better than the soul falling into the hands of the Great Shadow.

"Have you paid the price?" Wanda asked, holding the dead rabbit.

"I paid the price, when I was born, when I first went on a mission. I've faced death many times, and this is the price I paid. You are paying your own bill, Ms. Wanda Maximoff." Salomon was alluding, implying in every way that Wanda's magic might pose a life-threatening threat to her brother.

"If you don't pay the price now, when the demon who gave you the magic comes to collect the bill, it won't be something that can be solved by killing a few rabbits."

"Do I really have to do this?" Wanda Maximov asked. "Who exactly is coming to collect the bill from me?"

"That's not your concern. What you need to do now is learn how to use your power. Perhaps making an engine is still a bit difficult for you, so do you know how to make a Molotov cocktail, Ms. Maximov?" Salomon skipped his usual reprimands to his apprentices and went straight to the teaching segment. "You've already learned some simple applications and are self-taught in mind control. But to be honest, you don't really have much talent in energy control, and that's what you'll focus on learning from now on."

"Not all energy can be thrown out at once; that's something only barbarians do. Even barbarians use sticks, but you only know how to swing branches. You and I are both mystics, just from different sources." Salomont deliberately mimicked the tone of a potions teacher from a classic children's book, drawing out his words and maintaining elegant pauses.

"You will learn from me how to shape the energy in your hands and use that limited energy to create magic beyond the ordinary. Let's take it step by step—you will first learn how to use those powers to shape weapons, and then how to use void energy to shape your body. You will learn how to see through darkness and see through lies. You will learn how to control gravity and how to survive in a vacuum. You will learn how to draw strength from pain, hatred, faith, and peace, and how to use your mind flexibly to achieve your goals."

"Please keep trying, Ms. Maximov," Salomon said. "You still have a lot to learn. But before that, let's have some roast rabbit!"

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)