Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 486 Strong Liquor (First Update)

Just like this man, beneath the ice on the streets of Norway in January, the warm spring breezes spread from the sea to the land. In the days to come, the long, apocalyptic winter would be slowly driven away from the southern lands, and the forest god Vidal and the nature god Vali would plant more verdant and lush plants than ever before, and life would once again sing its praises on this land. But in Oslo in the north, the delicate tentacles of spring had not yet arrived so quickly; the pale sun overhead weakly cast its meager warmth, and vibrant life remained hidden beneath the ice.

Just like the man walking on the sidewalk, his short, gray hair was combed back, with a few lifeless strands hanging over his broad forehead. His eyes held a cheerful expression; neither the deliberately grown gray stubble nor the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes made him look too old. The cold air seemed to invigorate him, making his eyes even brighter. A light snow had fallen last night, and by morning, the melted snowflakes had turned into the unpleasantly slippery ice.

His steps were light and quick as he strode across the icy pavement. From the hard heels of his black leather shoes to his slightly tousled, gray-white hair, the distance was exactly 183 centimeters. His arms, hidden by his gray wool coat, were as powerful as the approaching warm ocean breeze. His well-chosen dark clothing not only kept him warm but also gave him a mature masculine charm; undeniably, he was very attractive to women with father complexes.

Cassirios eagerly awaited his meeting with the person he was about to meet. He walked to a street-side café, the ground kept somewhat dry by the awning, and there stood the person waiting, who appeared slightly slimmer than him, his equally tall figure concealed by a black coat casually draped over his shoulders. This person was the complete opposite of him, exuding an irrepressible youthful aura. The three enormous gemstone rings of different colors did not make him appear vulgar or gaudy, nor did the muscles bulging beneath his white shirt make him seem rude; instead, they, along with his dark suit and tie, accentuated his unique charm.

His long, slightly curly black hair was tied back, with a few playful curls dancing in the breeze on his forehead, and a charming smile was always on his face. One could vaguely see something long and thin tied to his waist with a leather belt with a silver buckle, which he could easily pull out with his right hand.

"My child." Kasirius opened his arms and hugged the young man tightly. For a moment, the two did indeed resemble father and son. This child was his spiritual anchor on the lonely snowy mountain. He watched the child grow up, go to university, and have a girlfriend or two. He watched him learn magic, learn to drive, and learn scientific knowledge that was difficult for normal people to understand.

Salomon chuckled and patted Cassirios on the back; he didn't object to Cassirios calling him that.

"You've got a little belly now, Cassirios." After they parted, Salomon raised an eyebrow at him. Cassirios's American English accent seemed to have changed a bit, carrying the refreshing air of glaciers and pastures. "How did you get like this in just a few months?"

“The Father of the Gods was a good hunter, and Frigg was far too hospitable,” Cassirius said with a laugh. He pulled out the wooden chair at the coffee stand. The chair creaked, having served the same purpose for over a hundred years, and today was no exception. Salomon sat down alongside him, his dark woolen overcoat concealing a slender, silver-plated black scabbard, and a smaller one on the other. The same artistic style, only hidden by the oversized coat.

Cassirios hung his coat on the back of his chair. "If you eat venison, bear meat, and salmon every day, and don't exercise because it's too cold, you'll end up like me," he said. "You can't just blame me; the Allfather has a belly too, and that doesn't prove anything."

"Asgardians are always on the go, but that's no excuse for refusing to work out." Salomon didn't immediately bring up the mission after the waiter brought the coffee. Previously, because Salomon was busy with his studies at Oxford, the Venerable One had assigned someone else to accompany the Allfather. Kasirius, one of the most outstanding sorcerers of Kamar-Taj, readily accepted this easy assignment.

Whether it was Christmas or New Year's, Cassirios spent his time in the icy landscapes of Northern Europe. This vacation-like assignment allowed him to relax for a while, and the vast, magnificent scenery lifted his spirits. Salomon pushed his coffee aside. He disliked coffee, very much so, especially this Norwegian Ferry coffee, which was just as bad as Americano. But before coming here, he had already figured out how to pass the time with Cassirios, and the money he paid was enough for the shop to offer some assistance.

The older sorcerer raised an eyebrow, watching Salomon conjure a bottle of clear, transparent liquor with exaggerated gestures. The waiter brought four glasses and a large bottle of soda water; two large glasses were filled with ice, and two smaller glasses held only a little liquid. In this country, drinking was perfectly normal, and even strong liquor was popular with most people.

After Salomon poured the nearly viscous, clear liquid from the bottle into two small glasses, Cassirios unhesitatingly raised his glass and downed the ice-pure vodka in one gulp. Under his gaze, Salomon also raised his glass and drank his chilled liquor in one gulp. The vodka hit his stomach like an ice cube, making his digestive system shiver. Within seconds, the alcohol began to take effect, and the sorcerer felt as if a pot of perfectly heated charcoal had been placed inside his stomach.

He let out a long breath.

"To Odin!" he toasted casually and cheerfully. "Next cup to Frigg."

Kasirius nodded in satisfaction; Salomon seemed to be starting to look like a man.

Perhaps it was one glass, perhaps five, no one knew. Perhaps it was the northern wind urging them to drink every drop; Salomon and Cassirios had no intention of stopping this time. Vodka was poured into glasses filled with ice, then soda water was added; no one knew exactly how much they drank. Amidst the smoked fish and sausages, amidst the chocolate and cheese balls, were glasses of strong liquor and countless topics of conversation, including Salomon's recent joint exam. When the two finally prepared to leave, Salomon showed no signs of drunkenness, while Cassirios continued to ramble on about the silly things Salomon and he had done together as children.

The young man listened with a smile, without interrupting the older sorcerer.

The alcohol concentration in my blood was just right, it felt warm, perfect for chatting.

Undeniably, Cassirios did play a part in Salomon's childhood as a father. For example, he would secretly take the boy drinking, build snowmen, and throw snowballs at the bored and dull Mordo. Salomon was quite grateful to him because he truly played a good father role, even though the two were not related by blood—partly because Salomon was remarkably easygoing, completely unlike a normal teenager, and utterly uninterested in secondhand concepts, death, noise, or commotion.

"What are we going to do?" Only after the paper cup, once filled with a mixture of orange juice and vodka, was empty did Cassirios ask about the destination of their mission. Salomon shook his head, casually repeating the Venerable's words. Cassirios glanced at the young sorcerer, somewhat curious.

"This is just a scavenging task." There's a reason he calls searching for items left behind by past gods "scavenging," because when all the pantheons left Earth, they often left behind some things that weren't that important. For example, Aphrodite's clothes that she either never wore or wore immediately afterward were such items. They had some magical effects, but were actually quite useless and didn't even qualify for inclusion in the Temple Museum.

It is said that Aphrodite's clothes were burned by Athena, but Salomon did not dare to ask the specifics.

Of course, these things will cause trouble if ordinary people find them, and Kamar-Taj will definitely have to deal with those troubles.

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(End of this chapter)