Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 933 The Secretary's Logistics Work (First Update)

“You’ve ruled the New York Sanctum since I was born, so you know my life, at least most of it. Although I’ve always encountered powerful enemies that almost only the Sorcerer Supreme could handle, I’ve never blamed anyone for the dangerous life I’ve led, never complained or roared about why I had to bear such terrible responsibilities. Do you know why?” Salomon raised an eyebrow. “I believe my life has been filled with love. But that doesn’t mean my compassion is boundless.”

"What does this mean?" Daniel Drum asked.

The Drum family's curse is highly likely a sacrifice made by their ancestors to embark on the path of mystery—split a soul into two, nurtured separately, and then reunited at the right time to enhance spiritual power. Salomon had to admit that this curse was both incredibly creative and powerful, as it didn't result in split personalities or even schizophrenia, because the two consciousnesses were originally one. It was both a curse and a blessing, allowing the Drum family to rise from an obscure wizarding clan to one of the most powerful schools of thought in South America through bloodline inheritance and accumulated knowledge.

"Think about where your talent comes from, and what His Holiness has told you. This is the bill for the Drum family," he said to Daniel Drum. "His Holiness paid his bill, and I paid mine. Does the Drum family deserve special treatment? Do I need to tell you what the consequences of evading the price are? I have no demands on the Drum family, nor on any school of thought that adheres to the ancient laws of Kamar-Taj. You must fulfill your duties. The Temple needs constant protection, and the safety of the human race is far more important than the Drum family."

"You're becoming more and more like a ruler, Salomon." The Temple Guardian bowed slightly, his expression perfectly natural as he walked out the door, seemingly unaffected by Salomon's words. In fact, every Temple Guardian was one of the Sorcerer Supreme's carefully selected successors. Daniel Drum's talent was astonishing, because he was one of the twins—a piece of information Salomon had found in the records left behind when the Sorcerer Supreme recruited Daniel Drum into Kamar-Taj for his education. The old man's astonishing longevity also stemmed from this. One soul, two spirits—the power here could easily make anyone a highly gifted spellcaster, let alone a bloodline-based school like the Drum family. With the right marriage partners, the offspring's talents would only grow stronger.

Stephanie confirmed that Temple Guardian Daniel Drum had left the Ministry of the Interior's teleportation portal and then returned to Salomon's office. Salomon's communication with the Temple Guardian wasn't kept secret from Stephanie; in fact, she immediately dropped what she was doing and came to her office upon learning of a visitor—a move Salomon tacitly approved of. Stephanie was one of the few people in the Immortal City with access to the inner workings of Kamar-Taj. "Repairing genetic defects shouldn't be difficult for a biological lab; the Extremis virus can cure many genetic diseases," she said. "Wouldn't it be good to use this technology to gain the allegiance of a decent school of spellcasters?"

"Once healed, the Dram family will be worthless. There will be countless bloodlines and schools of thought stronger than the Dram family. However, I have already given him the answer and the choice of whether or not to heal them. I have fulfilled my promise to the Dram family. As for what they plan to do, that's none of my business. Anyway, my reward will not be less." Salomon shook his head. "As for the Dram family… once the Venerable bestows the title and crown upon me, the Dram family will still have to swear allegiance to me. The old man is just trying to take a shortcut; it's meaningless. Old fox, as cunning as ever. Bring me the logistical documents. I know the logistical pressure; let me help you solve this problem."

"So sweet!" Stephanie winked happily. She wanted to urge Salomon to seize the claim right now, but she knew such a suggestion would infuriate her monarch. She knew Salomon's character; the Sorcerer Supreme was one of the few people he cared about and didn't measure by numbers or value. "This transfer isn't too troublesome; so far, no one's died from exhaustion! I'll have Diana do anything; she needs some exercise, otherwise she'll just stand there like a silly goose."

Diana Lister was certainly not a fool; she was anything but stupid.

Last night, when the order was given, she had already departed from the sea platform and boarded the Skysword space station on an assault transport ship, accompanied by the Sisterhood (during which time she was also injected with anti-motion sickness drugs). She was wearing the administrative uniform that the Immortal City had modified from the Brotherhood of Aegis' silver armor, and was busy directing the logistics personnel to carry out inventory and verification work.

Weapons, vehicles, ammunition, fuel, soldier rosters—besides the sorority's own logistics department, everything else required her and her administrative staff's attention. She needed to repeatedly verify the details of the Anti-Skuru Infiltration Act to prevent post-war Skrull infiltration, communicate with commanders at all levels to ensure the soldiers were in good fighting condition, and check with the Martian foundry staff to confirm the missile launchers were ready. She wasn't a professional quartermaster, but reality forced her to learn how to prepare everything the soldiers needed and verify all the information coming from the Immortal City.

Are there sufficient hemostatic spray and artificial skin spray in the individual first aid kit? Has each soldier been assigned two fragmentation grenades? Are all individual anti-tank rocket launchers equipped with fully charged batteries? Have the prefabricated bunkers been moved onto the vehicles? Does the temporary field hospital have sufficient surgical instruments and medicines? Are the fire-fighting equipment still valid? Have the nuclear weapons of the special assault team been maintained? Have the accompanying technical personnel carried sufficient maintenance tools?

She hadn't slept since last night, and time on Earth had lost its meaning since arriving at the space station. She could only continue working by instinct and passion. Fortunately, the administrative staff, who had undergone minor brain modifications and possessed external thinking units, solved most of the calculation problems; otherwise, even if Diana had worked herself to death here, she wouldn't have been able to complete the logistical work on the space station.

She worked very hard and believed that the monarch would see the results of her labor.

She didn't want to be seen as incompetent by the monarch. The Immortal City wasn't a secular enterprise, and even her position at the top of the Ministry of the Interior, secured through nepotism, didn't guarantee her invincibility. If she displayed weakness and foolishness, it would demonstrate her inability to fulfill her current role, and the Lister family, having barely squeezed into the center of power, would lose everything and be devoured by the other Hydra families.

"Today's work is important," she told herself, then roused herself with far more caffeine than safe and expensive alchemical potions. Today's objective was the largest Skrull settlement in North America; destroying it would mark the beginning of a long, dark battle beneath the surface, a battle the monarch would not allow to go wrong.

"This is also a battle to test the effectiveness of new weapons." Stephanie stood up and opened a weapons cabinet in the corner of the office. "I know you want to see the Skrull settlement burned down." She placed her palm on a pair of curved, double-edged blades, the ends of which were fitted with a mechanical device for powering and extending the blades, which could be mounted on the arm armor of powered armor. This was a weapon for close combat; the user would have to dance on the enemy's blade.

"Why don't we witness this process firsthand and see those who hunt down the fleeing Skrulls?"

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(End of this chapter)