Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 749 A Small Gift (First Update)

The Immortal City had grown silently, like a monster lurking under the bed in the dead of night, its breaths damp and gurgling. Natasha Romanoff never imagined it would become like this. She had initially thought it was an underground organization, an armed group, or a rising conglomerate, but now, pulling back the covers, she found herself in a government department. The harsh laws enacted by Victoria Hand had faced resistance from Wakanda, but after an intelligence operation deliberately allowed a local warlord to raid a controlled area, all dissent vanished.

While the Immortal City's actions in bringing order through iron and blood to war-torn regions of Africa—including but not limited to curfews, sterilization of large families, forced labor reforms, flogging and executions of criminals according to their crimes, compulsory education for children, compulsory training for workers, eradication of illiteracy and infectious diseases—would be unacceptable to many liberal sympathizers, Romanov agents understood that Salomon's methods were the most effective.

Human rights have no place under the pressure of survival.

The sorcerer's actions in Africa were essentially charitable, as the local artisans' goods had no market. Aside from Wakanda consuming some, Salomon bought everything else with his own money; there were even handcrafted goods from Africa on Mars. However, he wasn't entirely unprofitable. Before the Light-Gathering Mine was fully completed, the Martian foundry relied heavily on minerals from Africa. Furthermore, the sheer number of war orphans on Mars nearly killed an internal affairs official due to the workload of transporting people and selecting soldiers.

"Why haven't you conquered the world yet?" she joked, still shaken, trying to calm herself down. Almost everyone experiences megalophobia when facing those spaceships, and Natasha was no exception. Even after returning to the real world, the shadow of the spaceships didn't easily dissipate. She picked up her sweetened black tea again, using the hot water to stabilize her emotions.

She believed that a single warship was enough to conquer the Earth, and that Salomon didn't need to do so much unnecessary work.

“What I need is construction, my dear. Destruction is always easier than construction, but I’m not some tyrant.” Salomon showed her his current predicament without hesitation. “I lack manpower. I lack people to operate this spaceship, to use the armaments I produce for frontal assaults, and even to rebuild the infrastructure. The cloning pods are running at full capacity, and irreplaceable electronic components are slowly dying, but I have to do it. I must train officers capable of commanding naval warfare in outer space; only professionals can operate these powerful warships to conquer the stars.”

"Aren't you afraid I'll tell other people about this, huh?" Natasha's eyes sparkled. "You trust me?"

"I've always believed in you, Natasha. I believe you understand the importance of intelligence. Some may think I'm acting out of personal ambition, but that's not the case. These spaceships are prepared for a future cataclysmic disaster, for the future of the human race. Soon, we will face a devastating war that can destroy all civilizations, and we must fight with everything we have to survive."

"A prophecy?" she pressed. "The Chitauri? Was this what you announced to the representatives of the five permanent members of the UN Security Council at the Tri-Wing headquarters?"

"I only showed them a glimpse of the future, but no one believed it. That war was the first war humanity as a whole faced, but not the last." The agent looked up, seeing sorrow in the sorcerer's eyes. Ordinary people could possess his foresight, and therefore, no ordinary person could understand his urgency. He had never revealed this impatience to ordinary people, protecting them like chicks in a greenhouse, fearing they couldn't bear the pressure. "They thought the Chitauri were too far from Earth, and that as long as the Asgardians took the Tesseract, there wouldn't be a problem—or perhaps, surrender prevailed. I have no interest in understanding their thinking, because I don't see them investing technology and funds in outer space exploration. With the Chitauri's orbital strike capabilities, current human civilization cannot resist, not even if dragged into a ground war."

"Isn't that the truth? According to Thor and yourself, the Asgardians are responsible for the threats in the physical plane, while Kamar-Taj is responsible for the threats in the magical plane. We still have time to develop the technology to catch up with the Asgardians."

"Normally, yes. But Asgard has always been shrouded in the shadow of destruction, and Asgard's end will come sooner than Earth's. We are now basking in the last rays of the Aesir, and from now on, we will have to leave Earth to have any chance of survival."

"Has the situation become this dire? We need to inform Saul..."

Salomon waved his hand, interrupting her.

"They have been preparing for millennia. We need to stand up and face this suffering. The Battle of New York was just a small-scale raid, and the Chitauri were merely minor players in that war. What we must confront is the mastermind behind the Chitauri. There are countless alien civilizations in the universe, but that Chitauri leader destroyed many, simply to satisfy the bloodlust of that cursed being. Faced with such a catastrophe, all of humanity must join this war and expel those disgusting alien trash from our galaxy."

Salomon poured Natasha another cup of tea and then pulled her onto his lap.

The agent leaned against him obediently, as if against an enormous teddy bear. She could hear Salomon's heart pounding strongly, and she felt his warmth.

"Right now, I'm the only one in the world with spaceships and the corresponding technology. I have to step up and solve the problem. You know what would happen if I handed that technology over to humanity—the powered armor technology alone has driven those tycoons to do everything they can to deal with Stark, let alone spaceships and the associated technology. This hatred stems from an uncontrollable fear; their hatred for me will surpass their hatred for Stark, and they'll be even more eager for my death. That's human nature, and I don't want to blame them, but I also don't want to personally instigate World War III. I don't want to waste resources before that war."

"Do you know what people like this are called on Earth? Hero, my dear."

"No, I am not, Natasha." Salomon shook his head. "Only those men and women who have shed their blood for the human race are heroes. I am merely fulfilling the responsibilities that come with the title I hold."

"You always downplay the price you pay, always." Natasha shook her head. "Was that power armor you gave me also for the war?"

"You can't face the enemy in just a tight leather suit," Salomon laughed. "The power armor specially made for you. Slim yet sturdy, with completely silent servo motors, paired with energy wrist blades and a highly mobile jetpack, you will become the most terrifying assassin on the battlefield."

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)