Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 733 Physics Solves All Problems (First Update)

As his master insisted and repeatedly reiterated, the monarch was a human being.

This idea didn't stem from blind loyalty; his monarch encouraged him to think independently. Zero dared to say this after first meeting his monarch in the arena of the Immortal City and witnessing firsthand the monarch's blinding nature. He struggled to open his eyes, stung by the scorching light, and saw sadness, impatience, humor, and despondency—all the emotions of a mortal—on the monarch's noble and beautiful face. These emotions constantly reminded Zero that his monarch was merely a mortal with extraordinary power and wisdom. Now, it seemed his monarch was wallowing in human nature, and Zero, the Royal Guard, couldn't imagine how his monarch could support that future with a mortal soul.

Unbeknownst to Zero, while he was thinking independently, his monarch was engrossed in contemplating information theory.

Salomon's hostility towards the Eternal God vanished completely. This wasn't due to the Sorcerer Supreme's persuasion, but rather through his postgraduate studies in information theory—from a microscopic physics perspective, an electron is a continuous iteration of electrons undergoing minute changes, each generation possessing subtle differences; there are no stable, unchanging electrons in the world. The degree of change between the successive and previous generations of electrons depends on their minute choices. These minute choices constitute the complex thought shared by humans and other mammals, from communication to the genetic basis, from macroscopic physics to microscopic physics, all reflecting the status of information. From this perspective, Salomon himself was an electron constituting the will of the universe, and the universe had no need to care about any choices he, as an electron, made. He was merely a tiny manifestation of the information conveyed by the will of the universe.

This is not some messy theological concept, but rather a philosophical reflection from a scientific perspective.

Having resolved the issue in his mind, Salomon felt much more relaxed. He passionately kissed the two witches who were too tired to get out of bed, then got dressed and went out.

"Thank you," Salomon said softly, his voice so faint it was almost drowned out by the shrill whirring of the machines. He held the bouquet in his hands, his face radiating humanity, but only one person saw this expression. Vanessa had just woken up, the vibrant colors immediately colliding with her blurry vision. "Don't worry, Wilson Fisk came by." The sorcerer didn't speak, but his voice reached Vanessa's mind clearly. Vanessa recognized the owner of the voice, and her tense back relaxed again. "Some water? Even just to wet my lips would be fine."

Vanessa sighed in relief and closed her eyes again. It wasn't until Salomon brought a glass of warm water to her lips, allowing her to swallow a few mouthfuls, that she said in a slightly hoarse voice, "What are you thanking me for, little Baroque boy?"

"You defied fate, Vanessa. You should have died here, but you survived, abstract artist. How many poisoned people have you seen survive?"

"Say something nice," she said with a smile and a hoarse voice, her eyes closed. "I know that Minerva and you are both special, and even the children in the orphanage are special. I knew that Minerva inviting me out for drinks wasn't as simple as it seemed."

"This is your first time facing death, Vanessa. But there will be a second, a third. As long as you stay with Wilson Fisk, the danger will not cease, like a greedy she-wolf hunting for souls." The voice echoed in Vanessa's mind, as clear as if it came from the throat of a sorcerer. "I can accurately predict when you will experience death. If you persist, no matter how many times you escape, I will still hold a funeral for you. I even know the details of your funeral."

"Is this your superpower, seeing death? Minerva has taught you well; I didn't know you were so familiar with the Divine Comedy." Vanessa forced a weak laugh. "You know I won't change my mind, boy. Are you really going to abandon your two girlfriends?"

"I……"

"You'll make the same choice as me, won't you?" If Vanessa opened her eyes, she would see a memorable hesitation suddenly appear on Salomon's face. The abstract painter seemed to have forgotten that she no longer had the strength to speak. The effects of the poisoning were not light; she was exhausted. She thought she had spoken, but she hadn't realized she had only stated it in her mind. Even so, Salomon still heard her question and answered it.

"If it's a choice between duty and life... I can't choose, Vanessa." His voice sounded incredibly sorrowful, and Vanessa suddenly felt this sorrow like a burning blade piercing her brain, instantly bringing her to her senses. Vanessa, as an artist, possessed an extremely sensitive capacity for empathy and imagination—a wonderful talent for an artist, but for a wizard, it was the root of her downfall. First, she saw a torrential downpour falling on a dark city, damp streets and corpses strewn everywhere, then endless bloodied bodies burning in flames; she could almost smell the burning. Then she forgot what she had seen before; she only felt an impression lingering in her mind, like a searing brand.

Her talent didn't allow her to see too much, but even so, she still sensed that something was wrong.

"I must choose the former, even if there are a thousand reasons to choose the latter, I must choose the former."

"Why, boy?" she asked the sorcerer in her usual tone, "Why not choose the latter?"

"Because the former can save hundreds of millions of people, I have no choice." Frustration flashed by, followed by toughness and determination. "I envy ordinary people. They can lower their heads and enjoy their humane lives, no matter how bad they are, instead of looking up to see the gloomy universe and the threats lurking under that veil."

"Will you become a hero?"

“No, I will become the world’s most ruthless murderer, the most cunning king, the most heartless politician. You can apply every adjective to the worst aspects of humanity to me, because I will inevitably commit those crimes in the future, and I will pay the price for them.” Silence filled the room. Salomon turned the bouquet towards Vanessa, and after a long while, he spoke again. “If Wilson Fisk wants you to leave the country, do so immediately. I will have my men protect you, but that’s all. I will not provide Wilson Fisk with any assistance.”

Why?

“You’ve asked too many questions today, Vanessa. I’ll tell you, because I’ve already given Wilson Fisk’s criminal case file to whoever needs it. Even without the death penalty in America, your life will be terrible without Wilson Fisk. No matter how much you love him, he was a terrible mob boss. No one can escape their sins, not even me. The flames of revenge against him will eventually reach you and burn you to ashes. Or worse, you might still be alive.” Salomon stood up, carefully wiping the dried blood from his knuckles with a wet wipe. After tidying himself up, he buttoned his suit jacket. “Wilson Fisk’s bodyguards are coming to relieve us,” he said. “They protected you very well, repeatedly questioning my identity; I had to kill them to get in. Don’t show any sympathy at a time like this; I’ve never seen you show sympathy for the victims!”

"Your mouth is too harsh, Salomon." Vanessa stared intently at the arcane mage's retreating figure.

"I can't help it, mocking others is one of my few forms of entertainment." Salomon kissed Vanessa's forehead. "Sister Vanessa, you can't escape my sharp tongue either. Take good care of yourself; on my way here, I snapped the head off another idiot who wanted to kill you."

"Can you reveal who wants me dead? I can tell you a hundred terrible little stories about prophecies. Stop being so stubborn; some things are better known sooner rather than later."

"You still haven't given up on helping him, have you?" The sorcerer shook his head helplessly. "It's not stubbornness, it's just unnecessary. Wilson Fisk will find out who's behind this, but not now."

"How am I supposed to explain the bodyguard's death?"

"You don't need to explain anything. Don't worry, if Wilson Fisk comes to me, as a reward for his intelligence-gathering abilities, I'll just break one of his legs."

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(End of this chapter)