Marvel Magic Case Files.

Chapter 51 Dishonest Persons from Lower Dimensions

"Master, what's going on?" Salomon sat before the Sorcerer Supreme, a simple ring engraved with a six-pointed star on the table before him. "Master, stop taking my orange soda. Tell me, why did Belial bring the contract to me? I have a feeling that the demon has ill intentions."

"This could be a lawsuit that lasts until the end of the universe, Salomon," the Sorcerer Supreme said casually, several empty glass soda bottles beside her. This was a little game between the Ancient One and Salomon; Salomon would use arcane magic to hide his snacks, and the Supreme would try to unravel the mystery. But so far, Salomon had never won. The Supreme said, "Is Belial saying it's just a reaffirmation of the covenant?"

"Yes," Salomon replied, "but I did not sign the contract."

"Because the essence of the soul cannot change, your current name is merely a pseudonym to Belial, so naturally he won't let you sign it again." The Sorcerer Supreme reached into the portal and pulled out two bottles of soda, then tapped the table, signaling Salomon to chill them. "While Belial was happily playing with King Solomon's soul, one day, King Solomon's soul suddenly disappeared! This was a major event. The Demon King initially suspected God was behind it, but he couldn't possibly enter Heaven, even if he managed to snatch the title of 'Satan' from Mephisto. And now, you have appeared."

"So Belial thinks I'm King Solomon?" Salomon used magic to cool down the soda. "And what about this ring?"

"This ring is naturally the proof of King Solomon's command of the seventy-two demon pillars," said the Sorcerer Supreme. "Belial insists that he owns your soul, he wants to extend the contract, and take your soul away again. As for the little tricks you played on the contract, they were useless. Belial's cunning is far beyond your imagination. As I said before, the essence of the soul is unchanging, and he insists that your soul belongs to him after death."

"But I am not King Solomon!" Salomon exclaimed. "And I do not believe that my soul is the same as King Solomon's."

"Perhaps." The Venerable One glanced at Salomon with a meaningful look. "But Belial doesn't think so."

"All I want to know right now is whether that contract is binding on me." The young sorcerer shrugged. "I don't want my soul to fall into the hands of demons because of a contract I didn't sign. What is this, debt inheritance? All I have are holy marks."

"There is a certain binding force, Salomon, because your power is the same as King Solomon's. Although this is only due to the Stigmata, in a sense, you and King Solomon are the same person," the Venerable said. "At the very least, you must have the power to resist Belial. And, quite possibly, more than just Belial."

"What do you mean?" Salomon was now confused. Could it be that Belial wasn't the only one to sign the contract?

"The day you summoned the demon was a full moon," the Venerable said. "The moon could also represent Lilith, who knows?"

"Hmph..." Salomon sighed. "Teacher, tell me how much debt I still owe. I don't plan to pay back the debt to the demons, but at least I need to know who the creditor is."

"The day you were born, a riot broke out in the Abyss," the Sorcerer Supreme said calmly. "Although the demon lords did not give the order, the rioting demons were almost everywhere in the Abyss. You can estimate it for yourself."

"Teacher, is it too late for me to run away now? Will I be prosecuted by some kind of evil court? If those evil people have the brains to build courts."

"What do you think?" The Sorcerer Supreme pushed the soda towards Salomon. "This is a good thing; most people don't have the ability to cause trouble like this."

"Alright." Salomon sighed as he slipped the ring onto the little finger of his left hand. If he had a choice, he certainly wouldn't want this huge hassle. He said, "Then I'm destined to fight a demon."

"It might require more than just one fight," the Venerable said with satisfaction after glancing at the ring. "It looks pretty good. However, you'll have to pay for the magic to summon the demon yourself. Don't worry, after you've finished this, we can visit Dormammu again; I'm sure he'll miss you."

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Bayonetta looked at Salomon, who was sitting on a bench in the square sighing, and asked, "Is everything done?"

"Hmm... I guess I'm done. Let me have some peace and quiet, I drank too much soda." Salomon raised his left hand, letting the witch see the ring on his pinky. "I was planning to save my ring finger for my wedding ring! Wait, what's with this outfit? Did you switch sides with the angels just because I was gone for a day or two?"

Bayonetta was dressed entirely in a white, fitted fishtail dress, her beautiful long hair and delicate face were covered by a white headscarf, and even her butterfly-shaped glasses were replaced with simple, unadorned round-framed glasses.

If it weren't for the beauty mark on her lip and her highly recognizable voice, Salomon would hardly have recognized the witch in front of him.

"Sister~" Bayonetta seemed to have a mischievous idea. She said, "This is a common hunting method, boya. Although it doesn't usually work, it'll definitely work this time. Because the Ragnarokists have committed suicide again, and the angels will surely come to collect their souls. Look at me, this kind big sister is holding a funeral for those fools."

It was late at night, and Beyoncé and Salomon were inside the Ragnar Cathedral in Naples.

As the coming of Jubilee, the creator god worshipped by Ragnarokists, approaches, many Ragnarokists around the world are holding resurrection ceremonies, and some fanatics are committing suicide to praise God's coming, with the bodies of suicide believers lying in churches.

Enzo took on the task of organizing the funerals for the Ragnarok followers, a task that naturally required Bayonetta's assistance. The witch planned to lure out some of the more powerful angels, as the scattered, weaker ones were simply insufficient to offset the magical cost of summoning demons.

"Boya, don't try to steal my prey this time, Gomorrah is starving." The witch blinked and strode off toward the church.

Salomon sighed again, stood up from the stone bench, patted his red holy robes, and followed dejectedly. As the Venerable One had said, from now on, the surveillance of the witch clan would be his responsibility. As for why it wasn't entrusted to someone else, that had been explained before, so I won't repeat it here.

When Salomon entered the church, he found a quiet spot in the second-floor gallery and sat down where no one would notice.

"For the sorrow far exceeding our city, for the eternal grief far exceeding ours, for the annihilation of people far exceeding ours." Bayonetta stood before the candle-strewn altar, her hands clasped tightly to her chest. Her slightly hoarse voice echoed in the empty church, "Those who enter this door must relinquish all hope..."

"Yes, this prayer is very religious. Only those who have renounced everything can become so attached to a religion that they cannot leave it." Salomon nodded. It seemed that the person who designed these prayers was a charlatan; the Ragnarok's doctrines were comparable to a pyramid scheme.

Before Salomon, Bayonetta was bowing her head and reciting a prayer. As for when the angels would descend, that was entirely a matter of luck, but Bayonetta insisted that the angels wouldn't abandon the souls of the Ragnarokists—if the angels didn't descend, she'd go and beat up Enzo.

Looks like we'll have to wait a while.

"Hey bro," Salomon patted one of the men next to him on the shoulder, "now's not the time for photos. Come back tomorrow."

Let's eat.

(End of this chapter)