Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 704 The Mars Agreement (Second Update)

Salomon walked along several tracked paths several meters wide on the red sand, gradually approaching the iron-gray fortress standing on the red desert. Unlike the smaller mobile fortresses later assembled modularly, this fortress, built into the mountainside, was a castle constructed using prefabricated steel frames and poured concrete, hand-built by Malbus himself. It possessed several massive, airtight steel doors tens of meters high and countless smaller gates, used to connect with other smaller mobile fortresses with different functions, forming the main department of the Martian foundry. The fortress's exterior was equipped with automatic anti-aircraft gun turrets and plasma turrets to defend against enemies from the sky.

So far, no force has been able to threaten this area. The only kill recorded by the automatic cannons came from an innocent Martian rover in the distance. The rover's debris still lies in the crater left by the cannon fire, with the charred American flag barely discernible. Salomon doesn't care that Earth's governments have discovered the foundry; they simply don't have the power to stop it.

The Fifth Demon Pillar was the main person in charge of this project, but no one on Mars knew Malbus's true identity. The only clue was the golden lion sculpture outside the iron-gray concrete fortress. The steel gate slowly opened, revealing a gilded steel eagle emblem split in the middle, and pale light poured out from the narrow gap. Malbus, dressed in a deep red robe, stood behind the gate to greet his master—the Demon Pillars all possessed the ability to transform into human form, and Phoenix was no exception. Malbus's human form was that of a middle-aged man carrying a large amount of mechanical equipment, which suited his tastes perfectly. The demons and devils of the lower planes didn't need machinery; they only needed armor and swords. Before Salomon recruited Malbus, he could only be responsible for forging armor and swords, so Mars, where he could freely display his mechanical talents, pleased him even more. This was a promise he made when he arrived in the lower planes to recruit him.

Happy Halloween, my friend.

After passing through the steel gates, Salomon smiled and handed Malbus an exquisitely wrapped gift. Beyond the gates lay a vast network of railway tracks crisscrossing the fortress, and deep within its darkness lay numerous electroslag remelting furnaces equipped with vacuum units. These furnaces, each weighing over a thousand tons, and the production lines comprised of a series of metallurgical equipment, remained inactive. The electrical control equipment on the tracks sat quietly at the starting point, spotless, with even sparks and dust kept out of the electrostatic barriers. The vast foundry plaza was filled with silence, save for the air exchange equipment operating at its lowest power, supplying oxygen with a chemical odor that mingled with the oily smell of the air.

There are many more such standard foundry plazas, and more foundry fortresses will be built in the future, forming a highly industrialized industrial zone covering the land. Once the automated mines are ready, these foundry plazas will operate with unimaginable efficiency, refining steel and shaping it to manufacture war machines according to the production process designed by Malbus. More importantly, the orbital foundry, which is about to begin construction, will be the place where giant spaceships are manufactured and maintained.

In addition, the construction of agricultural factories and gene research labs has been put on the agenda. They only need to wait for the arrival of the smaller mobile fortresses, which will then deliver personnel and equipment, before construction can begin. On this planet, only efficiency matters. Regardless of gender, race, or sexual orientation, only work and study will permeate the lives of every Martian resident. Coupled with complex life-extending surgeries and mechanical modifications, any identity labels will be completely erased. All the idiots on Earth have no place to survive here.

"My Lord," Malbus bowed. He accepted the gift but didn't open it; instead, he activated the scent analyzer mounted on his face. In the shadow cast by the crane, a small, eerie green light flickered. "I suspect this gift is a data storage device. What new technology have you brought me this time?"

"This is just... just a pumpkin cake, my friend. Nobody can smell the silicon."

“I know, it’s just my sense of humor,” Malbus blinked. He followed Salomon deeper into the foundry. The further they went, the fewer lights were on in the steel dome, and darkness gradually enveloped them.

"I just hope your sense of humor doesn't cross the line, Malbus," Salomon said. "This is the early stages of construction, and I don't want you using artificial intelligence to do this work. I hope Ultron stays in your hands, or one day Mars will raise the banner of rebellion."

"For third-generation beings like us who possess physical bodies, electronic demons cannot affect the artificial intelligence in my hands," Malbus said softly. "I will perform an exorcism ritual on the artificial intelligence to ensure the purity of the device."

“No, my friend.” Salomon showed him his pinky ring, a warning lurking in the subtext, “I don’t deny the power of artificial intelligence, but it is precisely this power that puts us in a rather passive position, because we cannot judge the position of electronic life. We must find alternatives, but we can look at artificial intelligence with a dialectical perspective.”

"When destruction becomes unstoppable, artificial intelligence will be the most powerful means to salvage a critical situation," Malbus agreed.

"Yes, but only the Martian high command will know. Mass production is prohibited, research is forbidden, and all artificial intelligence must not be activated unless absolutely necessary. Unless ordered directly by me, this method will remain permanently shelved." The sorcerer nodded. "We will sign a contract outlining all the terms. Only those who sign the contract will become high-ranking Martian administrators. This contract will serve as the ultimate means for the future empire should it face civilizational extinction—"

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"—Firstly, I believe you certainly have other plans," Malbus said calmly. "Your wisdom will prompt you to make thorough preparations. I believe those genetically modified soldiers are only a small part of it, and artificial intelligence is by no means the last resort."

"Forgive me for not being able to tell you, not out of distrust," Salomon said. "The power of a secret lies in its secrecy. Strict secrecy procedures ensure that neither technology nor magic can uncover this information. The more secretive it is, the higher its value. Our greatest enemies will stop at nothing to find those secrets and use them as leverage to destroy our cause. The fewer people who know, the less likely it is to be leaked. Only in this way can we achieve final victory."

"Your ideal is our long-cherished wish, my lord. It was so in the past, it is so now, and it will be so in the future," Malbus said. "But please forgive my frankness, not everyone can understand your ideal. Selfishness is forever buried in the soul of living beings. Their fragile minds need an acceptable ideology so that they can break free from their narrow vision and the shackles of their past lives, and turn their gaze to the universe like yours. Could you allow me to reform the minds of the first generation of foundry workers, so that those mortals may remain loyal? I believe only such people are what you need."

Salomon glanced at Malbus, whose face, mostly covered by a mechanical mask, revealed no expression. He wondered when Malbus had improved his ability to read people's minds. According to Phoenix, Malbus was essentially a reclusive geek obsessed with mechanical creation—perhaps for the romantic poet Phoenix, no one was interesting enough, especially Malbus, who loved being with steel.

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I will resume normal updates from today onwards, as I have returned to work.

(End of this chapter)