Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 925 A Quiet Change (First Update)

"These people have been dead for many years," Chief George Stacy said as he briefed Falcon on the case.

Sam Wilson, acting as Steve Rogers' investigator before his return to New York, arrived at the police station first. Using police files and Tony Stark's AI "Friday," Wilson quickly accessed detailed information on several victims. "How is this possible!" he exclaimed, looking at the yellowish-black skeletons laid out in the morgue. Even without a forensic report, he could tell the bones lying on the stainless steel bed had withstood the test of time. He was experienced, just as he had assured the police chief.

"The person who called the police claimed that their family member was taken away just yesterday!" he said. "Then who is the person living with?"

"That's the part that baffles us the most," Chief Stacy sighed. "Either they had a way of making the victims' remains look like they'd been buried six feet underground for a long time, or... something replaced the victims, and those soldiers in armored vehicles were hunting down those things. We noticed one piece of information: all the victims had moved, changed jobs, and rebuilt their relationships."

The police chief lowered his voice, "That's roughly the time the death was determined."

The only listener felt like every pore on his body had exploded.

"I've never seen anything so horrific in my life. I've been to war, but this...it's just too bizarre." The air conditioning in the morgue was already somewhat unsettling, but Chief George Stacy's words sent a chill down Sam Wilson's spine. A fear hidden deep within human genes was unearthed, like the monster under the bed he dreaded as a child—a fear initially discarded with age, but now it returned. This fear was called the unknown, not a fear that could be destroyed by bullets. Sam Wilson shook his head, trying to shake off this childish thought, but the fear clung to him like a shadow.

What clues do we have?

"Nothing but what you see." The police chief shook his head. "The people who did the cleaning did a thorough job. All bodily fluids at the scene were destroyed by the acid, and the shell casings and bullets were taken away. The forensic department found nothing. Except for the crater—not a notch from a pistol or rifle, but from some kind of large-caliber weapon. Logically, shooting a human with such a weapon would leave a large amount of debris, but we found nothing. Those people destroyed everything with flames and acid."

“Very good. I don’t want any alien genetic information left at the scene,” Victoria Hand said into the phone. “The cleanup of the aliens in New Jersey needs to be expedited. The police are already watching you. The assault transport ships are ready, but you only have one chance to escape. If the National Guard catches up with you, even a monarch can’t save your lives… My Lord, the Skrulls in New York State have been cleared out, and the bodies are being transported by air to the Immortal City.”

She hung up the phone and waited for instructions. Even though another task was urgent, she had to wait.

Fortunately, the person who gave her the orders was decisive and efficient.

"Order the bio-genetic laboratory to prepare for reception. Dr. Maya Hansen really needs experimental material." Salomon held up a finger, gesturing for Stephanie to issue the order as he instructed. Stephanie then directed her secretary to draft the order. At the same time, Salomon looked up, and Victoria Hand noticed that her monarch's expression hadn't changed since the start of this mission. As far as she knew, her monarch was currently undertaking several tasks simultaneously, with the secret war against the Skrulls being only one part of it. It was obvious to anyone that something far greater than the Skrulls was approaching.

"I hope the cleanup work can be completed."

"I believe the Ministry of the Interior can do it." Victoria Hand understood what the monarch meant. "Is your current body a product of alchemy?"

"Don't let me get close to high temperatures, or I'll melt."

Victoria Hand quietly breathed a sigh of relief. She increasingly dreaded facing the monarch's true form—that tall, strong, and ruthless figure, whose calm exterior concealed a raging inferno of fury and rage, a thought that sent chills down her spine. Whenever he sat behind his desk, his presence practically filled the entire room. He worked with an attitude that Hand both admired and feared, issuing orders that would make even the most hardened heart hesitate. Aside from Stephanie Malik, that madwoman whose ambition burned like lust, no one could withstand such terrifying pressure.

This situation only began to emerge after the Battle of Finnbowent.

After the battle, the king, clad in scarred golden armor and wielding a blazing longsword, boarded the ship. Almost everyone who looked directly at him felt as if their brains were being engulfed by a red-hot iron block; the scorching violence, like the molten core of the Earth, instilled fear in all. The ship's crew knelt before him as he passed, and even when he finally gave an order to all those who knelt, shouting and demanding they stand up, something had subtly changed. Now, everyone in the Immortal City could feel his presence, like an invisible, towering mountain. Even those without a second vision could clearly sense the person sitting in the highest Gothic tower, and the girls in the Sisterhood Convent would pray towards that building.

When you are away from him, this feeling turns into longing; when you are close to him, it quickly turns into fear.

Victoria Hand didn't know if this sense of humor and kindness came from her alchemical body, but her monarch seemed to enjoy joking. Whenever there were no missions, his deadly sense of humor would ignite the pyre like kindling in a fireplace, only then could all those who worked for him relax a little. After the Battle of Finnbowent, she believed that if her monarch still possessed any humanity, it was his love of spirits—the precious liquor stored in the handcrafted wine cabinet in his office was being consumed at an alarming rate. Most recently, a bottle of Napoleonic brandy had disappeared; such rare items would usually be auctioned off by the glass, yet Victoria Hand hadn't even seen the bottle.

"The real body is still attending classes in Oxfordshire; she has a rather important exam today." The alchemical body seemed to have read her mind. The Hand agents were already used to this; the monarch's eyes could see everything, and some radical staff members thought the same way. Salomon's avatar smiled slyly. "Inviting your professor to sample Napoleonic-era brandy isn't a bad thing, especially when absences are frequent; a bottle of fine wine can be quite effective."

"You should be glad Jane Foster isn't your graduate advisor."

"Yes, heartbroken women are quite troublesome. Ms. Victoria Hand, remember to take a bottle of wine with you before you go; you can choose any of the collection in the wine cabinet. Taking over Nick Fury's secrets has been a troublesome matter, but I have nothing more to repay you with."

"It is my duty, my lord." Victoria Hand opened the liquor cabinet, picked up a bottle of spirits, bowed, and left the office.

"I believe she can take over Nick Fury's job," the monarch said to the head of the Interior Department standing beside him. "She has the potential, and so far she's doing a good job."

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)