Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 681 Refusing to Guess (Second Update)

Nick Fury had no reason to worry that Salomon would reveal his messianic identity and use religious influence to gain support from Jewish tycoons. Many of the missions carried out by Salomon's intelligence unit hadn't been perfect, and the former director of S.H.I.E.L.D., after uncovering some clues, naturally deduced Salomon's true purpose. This forced Nick Fury to simultaneously cry foul and use his secret weapons to clean up the mess for the Immortal City's intelligence department, erasing any trace of his deception. "He threatened me, saying that if I didn't back down, he'd reveal his messianic identity and go to Jerusalem to perform miracles!" Nick Fury slammed his fist on the table in anger. Even his reddened hands couldn't vent his fury. "How could I have been fooled by such a clumsy tactic! What did that little bastard say? Did you get his answer?"

Aren't you worried he might change his mind?

“Although Salomon is ruthless, I believe in his promises. Who else can I trust? I believe in Salomon because he's the same kind of person as me, and his methods are far more cunning. He doesn't operate openly; he's infiltrated those people. He has connections with countless foundations and international organizations, and he's joined secret societies. Even I can't fathom how he got involved with those powerful families, or why his influence has grown so rapidly.” Nick Fury sighed. “I never underestimate Salomon's determination and ruthlessness. Those people certainly never imagined someone would betray their class and wealth. But I digress. What I need to focus on now is the present. Although I only have one eye left, I see more clearly than ever before. Salomon will never kill them; otherwise, they would be dead already. What I need to know is when he will release them?”

"Soon." Agent Natasha Romanoff looked very capable in a smart black business suit.

She sat behind her desk, legs propped up on the surface, looking cheerful, as if her hoarse throat didn't bother her at all. "They're supposedly cracking down on Albanian human trafficking organizations in Eastern Europe. Following that lead, they should be in France tomorrow, and in a few days, the USS Retribution will arrive in Washington," she said cheerfully. "Perhaps even earlier, because I gave him that intelligence."

"I thought spies were in the business of gathering intelligence, not sending it out. Your actions make it difficult for me to predict the Punisher's next move. I've also lost the coordinates of two other Sky Carriers; satellites can't find them at all, which greatly complicates intelligence work." Nick Fury's one eye was fixed on Agent Romanov. He tried to calm his anger and said in a dry tone, "I thought you wouldn't let personal feelings interfere with your missions."

“Indeed not, but I’m no longer a spy, don’t you remember?” Agent Romanov raised an eyebrow. “Only spies need to use their bodies to exchange for information. Salomon and I were mutually beneficial, and pleasing each other was mutual, at least he admitted that.”

She recalled the pleasure Salomon had brought her.

Salomon peered through the frosted glass of the bathroom. The white light illuminated a blurry, flesh-colored figure, accompanied by the gentle sound of running water. "Steve Rogers is deep in thought. I've presented him with an extremely complex and grand topic. This question was foreshadowed when I first met him, but I never expected to have such a good opportunity to unearth it again, and to make such a profound impression."

"Rogers isn't used to modern life yet; he definitely can't answer the questions you throw at him!" Natasha Romanoff flung open the frosted glass bathroom door. She lifted her chin, emerging with a cloud of warm, misty white steam. She wrapped her long, wet orange hair in a white towel, otherwise completely naked. She bent over the vanity mirror, water droplets sliding down her back to her hips, leaving a glistening trail before finally dripping between her legs. Salomon licked his dry lips, averting his gaze from the water droplets.

His behavior made the Romanov agents laugh.

"Aren't you afraid to face our extramarital affair, little boy?"

"Let's get down to business, Natasha."

"Okay, back to Steve. As far as I know, he received a standard 'happy education,' the kind of classes poor kids in America could only afford back then. Not everyone can receive the same education as you; it's too costly. Your uniform alone cost nearly $1000, which would be difficult even for the American middle class to afford for tuition and living expenses; they would generally need to apply for student loans. Higher education is tainted with money and power. Tony Stark's undergraduate tuition was significantly higher than Oxford's, plus the compensation he had to pay for causing trouble..."

"Hurry up and put on some clothes, or I'll have to cast another spell if you catch a cold." Salomon kept his head down, engrossed in his phone, seemingly uninterested in Agent Natasha Romanoff's figure.

"You don't like it? You weren't acting like that just now." Agent Romanov raised an eyebrow, looking at the sorcerer in the mirror. "I remember you once said you liked women with abs. Don't you know that liars' noses grow longer?"

"I was a minor back then, and I said that to prevent you from committing a serious crime; it was a white lie." Salomon finally raised his head. He held up a finger in front of his eyes and then said in Russian, "I assure you with my years of painting experience, Natalia Romanova, that even on canvas, your figure is perfect. Personal preference doesn't represent my aesthetic ability; I will paint a picture of you, the kind without clothes."

When did you learn to speak Russian?

"When I was about ten years old, there was a lot of magic in the land of Siberia, and I had to learn and understand it."

"Damn, I've never heard of such a thing," the female agent cursed inwardly. She tried to change the subject, "You've certainly learned Russian manners; you even inform us before attempting natural conception, even to someone like me who can't get pregnant. I'm not entirely against you cloning; on the contrary, your actions show you adhere to, or even are passionate about, tradition. I think I can deduce many unknown things from your behavior. Want me to guess?"

"No need to guess, I can tell you." The sorcerer narrowed his eyes. "I was created, so it's difficult for the genes of a typical human woman to combine with mine. Even if I repair your uterus, you won't be able to get pregnant. But I think it's better to give you a heads-up beforehand. If you don't like it, I can keep quiet."

"I don't mind, good boy. Just stop watching those stupid jokes on 4chan and hurry up and get rid of the hickeys and fingerprints on my neck. I'm an agent; I don't want anyone knowing my behavior patterns." Agent Romanoff straightened up in front of the mirror. She looked somewhat angry, using this intense emotion to mask the shock of Salomon's bombshell information. "If I had known you were rough, I wouldn't have let you do this! Is this how you and your witch girlfriend usually act? Get this over with; we still need to talk about Tony Stark!"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Where's Stark?" Nick Fury's voice pulled her back to reality, but the fire burning within her kept urging her to see the arcane mage one more time.

"He'll be back with Steve Rogers," Agent Romanoff said, trying to remain calm. "To avoid trouble, the sorcerer will take everyone to the top floor of Stark Industries. They weren't mistreated; that's my assurance from Salomon. He told me there were no unnecessary casualties."

"Didn't you notice his strange grammar? As far as I know, every magician is a linguistics expert. What do you think his subtext is?"

"I refuse to speculate, sir. I don't believe their lives are threatened," Agent Romanov said. "Salomon's goal is to stop the spread of magical contamination. I've never seen him go after people with the intention of taking lives; that would be putting the cart before the horse."

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(End of this chapter)