Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 746 The Problem of Alcoholism (Second Update)

"Could you... reveal something?" Sophis shrugged. "I think you should tell most of the people in the Immortal City about your prophecy. That's what my father did. According to the records, if it weren't for my father's prophecy, our ancestors would never have been able to leave Constantinople. Since my father's prophecy is related to you, then your prophecy should be credible."

"No." Salomon shook his head, rejecting Sophia's suggestion. "We are at war, so we must use deception to its fullest extent. I must take the position of the chess player from an outer dimension to secure victory in this war. You certainly don't understand what I'm saying now, because our opponent is not in the physical universe. To attack them when they are unprepared and to strike unexpectedly, I cannot tell anyone about some of my crucial plans, not even a single word, because they are everywhere."

"Mystery!" Sofia rolled her eyes.

When her father recounted to Salomon how he left Constantinople over a thousand years ago, Salomon had believed that Jacob was exceptionally skilled at using mysticism to persuade others. Now, almost all of Siberia's ancestors followed Jacob because of that mysticism, and Sofia, after her education, knew this was a manipulative tactic—she knew Salomon wasn't a kind man, and that his rescue of her people was solely due to Jacob. Obeying the orders of the Immortal City's master was her and her people's only way to survive; it had been ordained a thousand years ago, and she had to obey. She shook her red braids, sighed, and rose from her seat. She had participated in the operation led by Victoria Hand to annihilate Trinity, and knew that if it weren't for the Immortal City, Trinity would have already sent mercenaries in armed helicopters to slaughter her people; Laura Crawford alone couldn't bridge the gap in weaponry.

"I need a vacation. I haven't seen Laura in a long time." She thought for a moment and managed to find something within her authority to decide. "Otherwise, I won't take my tribe to the upcoming gang eradication training."

"Of course, I miss her too. But first, you need to keep your people in check, at least don't let them cause trouble near the camp," the sorcerer said with a smile. "I've heard that your people consume more than twice the amount of alcohol per person per month compared to the average Russian's daily intake. I don't want my soldiers to be a bunch of drunkards."

"We're just adding vodka to our tea; it's our traditional drink." The girl, who has no Slavic heritage whatsoever, remained unfazed by the doubts and warnings. Her next words further illustrated the influence of environment on genes; the Siberian cold made this Greek girl more Slavic than most Slavs, especially in her attitude towards alcohol. "You should try it too; hot tea and hot wine can save you from the harsh winter."

The traditional beverage that Sophia and her people rely on is not something everyone can enjoy with peace of mind. There's no standard recipe for that tea; many versions have emerged over a thousand years. Salomon, introduced by Jacob, tried the most basic version. It smelled wonderfully fragrant, but the moment it entered his mouth, it felt like swallowing a mouthful of fire. He couldn't help but suspect that the two tea leaves in the cup were merely for show, and the rest of the liquid was actually over 70% alcohol.

Salomon was surprised to find that most of the women he knew had varying degrees of alcoholism.

Athena and the witch drink wine like water, while Wanda and Natasha Romanoff can down a whole glass of vodka—enough to kill an elephant—without batting an eye. While somewhat exaggerated, it's true, especially for Wanda. After learning a minor spell that prevents her from getting drunk, she's even more inclined to drink heartily. Salomon now regrets telling her the recipe for the "Potion of All Souls." Due to her classes, Wanda now spends all her time at home brewing various potions. The sorcerer has had to install an exhaust fan and industrial-grade air filtration system in her penthouse to prevent the DEA from breaking in. Otherwise, Wanda would almost certainly be arrested and charged by the District Attorney's Office with manufacturing poison and animal cruelty (laboratory animals).

Perhaps the IRS as well, since Wanda never paid taxes to the United States on the wages she received.

"I've heard." As usual, Natasha Romanov calmly downed the fiery liquor. She exhaled a hot breath, thick with the smell of alcohol, and even her skin warmed up—a sensation Salomon was acutely aware of, for there was no more subtle way to detect changes in body temperature than direct contact. A mediocre poet would surely have remarked that her breath was as fiery as her figure.

Salomon shook his head, trying to banish the awful phrase from his mind.

"You did something in Hell's Kitchen."

"Is it something important?" Salomon was still a little puzzled as to why Natasha had only come to him now. He had assumed that Tony Stark would immediately tell the others about it after returning to the Avengers headquarters in upstate New York, so he was prepared to face questioning. However, if Natasha Romanoff hadn't invited him to her secret apartment, Salomon wouldn't even know how the Avengers members had reacted to the matter.

"No, neither Tony nor Steve are taking your actions very seriously." She sniffed, as if the drink hadn't cured her cold. She poured herself another glass and continued in a heavy nasal voice, "They want to know why you did it—you'd better have a good reason, otherwise you won't be able to explain why you brought field artillery into the city. This isn't just a regular gang fight; the state wants to investigate further."

"Have you investigated who conducted this investigation?"

The agent suddenly realized.

"Are they all your people?" She gave a sullen look. "Your development speed is even faster than Hydra's. I'm afraid we just finished wiping out Hydra, and you've already become the new Hydra."

"Someone always has to fill the vacancy, Natasha. That's the nature of elected politics where politics and business are intertwined, where bribery can be legally accepted and elections manipulated. It was like that in ancient Greece two thousand years ago, and it's like that in America two thousand years later. Nothing has changed. Even without Hydra, there's Skull and Bones, Jewish tycoons, and military-industrial complexes. Someone always has to fill the void."

"You're commenting on current events again. We agreed not to discuss those things," Natasha said, frowning. She found that the folk remedy from her hometown wasn't working, and according to their agreement, she had to take the cold medicine made from Salomon. However, the cold medicine looked terrible, like a puddle of yellowish-green, steaming mud, and as soon as she opened the bottle, it emitted a horribly pungent smell of fermented vegetables.

"Do I really have to drink this?" She kept squeezing back against the sofa, looking very resistant to it.

"Your stuffy nose will be gone in ten minutes. I don't know why you still run around in that tight leather jacket in winter; isn't that the best way to catch a cold?"

"I was on a mission; you can't expect me to wear armor, can you?"

"I can," Salomon said with a smile. "I had prepared a Christmas present for you, but it seems better if I give it to you early."

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)