Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 792 Christmas Special (Part 2)

"Is it over?" Bayonetta asked.

The television in the living room was playing very old movies. Salomon could immediately tell these were films favored by witches, because whether it was *Roman Holiday*, *Breakfast at Tiffany's*, or *War and Peace*, the leading lady was Audrey Hepburn. In a sense, witches learned modern fashion by watching old movies. Unlike the minimalist trend of postmodernism, witches preferred complex and elegant outfits, which, far from looking dated, were incredibly charming against their beautiful faces. Salomon could guarantee that the Hollywood elegance of the last century that witches possessed would never be out of style.

This made Wanda a little uncomfortable; she hadn't expected anyone to have tastes even more old-fashioned than hers. However, the witches agreed to her suggestion to watch 1970s family sitcoms, which were still quite novel to them.

"Yes, it's just a small matter." Salomon squeezed in and sat between Bayonetta and Joan of Arc.

Dinah subtly dimmed the living room lights, allowing her master to immerse himself in the world of the movie. She did this also to conceal Constantine in the darkness; after all, a large golden statue could easily attract a guest's attention, which was hardly courteous. The apartment's floors were far thicker than others, thanks to renovations done during the time the witch and Salomon lived in the Oxfordshire manor. An alloy plate had been added to the walls and floors, strong enough to withstand artillery fire, allowing Constantine to walk around the apartment in his power armor without breaking through the floor and falling to the floor below.

"Is this butter popcorn? Do you have chocolate one?"

"My master, here's your popcorn." Diana winked at Constantine, seemingly proud of being able to fulfill her master's every need. But the Royal Guard remained unmoved, standing silently in the corner, his golden power armor reflecting a faint light. He gripped his halberd tightly, his electronic eyes and displays in his helmet scanning the surroundings for anything that might threaten the monarch's safety. Salomon had granted him initial access to the intelligence department and demanded that the Royal Guard possess its own intelligence network—independent of the existing intelligence agencies, regardless of social class or status. Constantine knew this was the monarch's backup plan, primarily to deal with the less-than-loyal Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

He knew that almost everyone the monarch trusted was in this drawing room.

Constantine knew that the Sovereign had long ago devised a plan to kill Wanda Maximov, and that this was part of what he would learn after donning the power armor. He knew he would be deeply involved in the plan to kill Wanda Maximov. Constantine understood Wanda Maximov well, both psychologically and physically, and he had to learn in order to kill her in one fell swoop.

Even so, this didn't stop Salomon from sitting on the sofa, chatting amiably with the witch who used chaos magic, and seemingly genuinely treating her as a friend, teaching and protecting her with his own affection. The Royal Guard couldn't fathom what kind of rationality could lead to such a judgment, what kind of mental fortitude could bear the pain of killing a loved one. He sensed that the monarch's soul was weary, hidden beneath a mask of laughter and sternness; all the pity and compassion he cherished had to be cast aside.

He had no choice but to do it. Let him enjoy the holiday, Constantine thought.

"Wanda, which room do you prefer?" Bayonetta turned to Wanda, who was sitting on the guest sofa, and asked.

Although Wanda had shed some of her reserve, she was still somewhat caught off guard by the witch's suggestion that she stay overnight. At that moment, Bayonetta secretly cast a spell, speaking directly to Salomon through her thoughts, "I need to pick up a necklace tomorrow morning; the jewelry stores don't close for Christmas. Joan of Arc will come with me; you stay home and keep Wanda company. That poor girl has almost no family left. I really don't understand why Pietro wouldn't come and visit his own blood relatives instead of the Avengers."

Wanda was clearly unaware of the slight etheric ripple; her attention was elsewhere.

"Don't worry, we've prepared all the necessities and changes of clothes you need. You can stay here for a few days."

"Beyond said, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Salomon didn't know why Beyond brought this up, but he felt that the witch seemed to have other intentions, and that her sudden invitation to Wanda Maximov must have some reason that Salomon didn't understand.

So he chose to kiss the witch on the lips. Wanda blushed instantly.

"It tastes like honey." He said it aloud. Salomon told Wanda, "Don't be shy, Bayonetta likes you very much. You can stay here like you're at home. There will never be anything like 'the guest is like the fish, going bad after three days' for you."

Joan licked the syrup off her hands. If she hadn't placed her feet on Salomon's lap, she would have resembled a noblewoman. Her mother had taught her manners since childhood, and although witches were often rebellious, Joan had always taken pride in it. Perhaps she even possessed royal blood, but no one could confirm it now.

"If you can't speak, you can shut up, you silly girl."

"Alright, you could actually use this time to learn some magic." The dismissed sorceress extended the invitation again. "Wanda, I haven't mentored you in a long time, and some spells are best taught by female spellcasters. I'm sure Bayonetta and Jeanne would be happy to help you with that. Besides, your praise of tonight's dinner pleased Dinah greatly, and she wants to satisfy her guests' cravings for delicious food. Please, she rarely cooks for anyone other than us."

"Okay..." Wanda hesitated before agreeing.

To match Salomon's words, Dinah forced herself to make a cheerful expression and pulled a Christmas popper from her maid's pocket. With a soft pop, colorful ribbons and cheap paper hats flew out. However, these Christmas poppers had been secretly enchanted by the Pixie, turning them into complete prank toys—a situation no one had anticipated.

The living room suddenly became lively.

Bayonetta and Joan stood on the sofa, drew their pistols, and shot down every doll that tried to approach. Salomon quickly drew his dagger and stabbed through a Christmas firecracker that was trying to pull the pin. Dinah dodged the flying ribbons and bouncing Santa toys and pounced on Wanda, eager to ask what she wanted for breakfast. However, the young witch was currently busy removing the paper hat that was making faces and singing off-key Christmas carols from her own head.

Constantine sighed quietly, brandished his halberd, and joined the farce.

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(End of this chapter)