Marvel Magic Case Files.

Chapter 59 The Sage and the Fat Man

Salomon was surprised that Luca would call just a few hours later, but he didn't doubt the tip the reporter had provided, because this guy would do anything to find out the truth these days.

After hanging up the phone, he looked up at Rodan. Luca's voice was so loud that even Rodan, standing behind the bar, could hear it. The bar owner, wearing sunglasses, gave Salomon a chocolate sundae and then reached for the remote control behind the bar—the area behind the bar was the bar owner's territory, and customers couldn't just reach there; that was the rule at Hell's Gate Bar.

"I am now standing before the Izawel Tower in Vigrid, the holy site of the Ragnarok. It is said that this year marks the once-every-five-hundred-years-old arrival of Jubileeus, the chief god of the Ragnarok. Believers around the world are celebrating Easter and rejoicing." The small LCD TV on the wall of the bar switched to the WNN World News Channel. The host's voice was narrating, and the screen was full of Ragnarok believers wearing white robes with gold trim, their hands clasped in front of their chests, facing the same direction. Then the screen changed to be full of Ragnarok priests. Their clothing was also white, but without hoods. Instead, on the front of their tall, wide white hats was a golden sun symbol.

"Fake news!" Salomon scoffed.

The Ragnarok's history is probably less than two five-hundred-year periods old, and this Easter announcement was likely a last-minute one, yet the Ragnarok followers remain steadfast in their beliefs. The fact that a young religion can wield such influence is likely why the Sorcerer Supreme decided to conceal the existence of gods and demons; otherwise, the fragile human heart would be unable to resist the allure of faith. Some young people, while not particularly religious, still share superstitious content on social media, a manifestation of an attempt to fill a void in their faith.

Faith is like poison! This was Salomon's thought, and therefore he would not offer faith to anything; he could not bear the feeling of having his mind controlled.

"However, on the other hand, there has been a continuous stream of suicides in praise of the coming of God. Yesterday, the Ragnarok High Priest and more than 20 followers committed mass suicide, and the church where their bodies were placed was vandalized by unknown assailants. Various countries consider this an unusual situation and have urged Ragnarok followers to remain calm."

The footage showed the church that Bayonetta and Salomon had visited the previous night, but perhaps because the church was in such a terrible state now, the television was showing pictures of the church when it was still intact.

"This has nothing to do with me, it was that big guy who caused it," Bayonetta said, resting her chin on her hands. "That little wildcat made us watch TV just for this?"

Salomon shook his head. "Maybe it hasn't aired yet. You know, even live streams have delays; maybe the signal in this demiplane is bad. Mr. Rodin, I'm absolutely not saying anything bad about you, please don't take my ice cream away."

"The president of the Izawell Group, which effectively controls this religious city, made his first public appearance."

Rodin, at the opportune moment, offered Bayonetta an apple martini, remarking, "There's quite a stir in the human world."

"It's utterly foolish." Enzo waved his chubby, jewel-encrusted hand, brandishing a whiskey. His cigar had been forcibly extinguished by Rodin when Salomon entered. He said, "To offer one's life for the return of the gods? But it's precisely because of fools like these that my business has thrived."

"Huh? You're paid to hold funerals? You're no better than me." Rodin clearly expressed his disdain for Enzo. But Enzo wasn't bothered by Rodin's attitude. Salomon, on the other hand, was quite satisfied with Enzo. Although the guy was fat, greedy, and liked to flaunt his wealth, his spirit was free and hadn't been bound by religion.

So, quite touched, he ordered another sundae and put it on Enzo's tab—a gesture Rodin readily accepted, as Enzo always liked to owe him money for drinks, and the sundae could be considered interest. Anyway, Enzo couldn't quite remember how much he owed Rodin, so a little more didn't matter.

"I've always been a good citizen, as long as there's money to be made," the intelligence dealer said, turning his head. The large ruby ​​ring on his little finger still gleamed in the dim light. "Anyone with a conscience wouldn't bother with these brain-dead cultists. Tell me, isn't what I'm doing charity? Hahaha!"

"Then you should donate money to the church," Bayonetta said, holding her wine glass. Rodin's wines always suited her taste. "Pay me as soon as possible, Enzo."

Although Enzo desperately wanted to resist, even attempting to use the excuse that Bayonetta hunted angels for entertainment, he never succeeded, and this time was no exception. He said, "If you hadn't made such a mess of the cathedral, my payment would have been much more than that! Think of me for once, Bayonetta!"

The noisy routine at Hell's Gate bar didn't last long before it was interrupted again by the sound from the television. Even though the volume wasn't high, the clamorous cheers still drew the attention of everyone in the bar.

"It's him! Badr, the president of the Izawell Group, has finally shown up! It's no exaggeration to say that the Izawell Group has brought immense wealth, and its supporters, like Vigrid, have contributed significantly to the economic development. Perhaps Badr, with his connections to the religious followers, can resolve these suicides..."

The camera shifts to a building of unknown location. Based on the decorative style—the golden, sunburst-like patterns—anyone can tell it's a Ragnarok building. The camera then cuts to a white platform, resembling the legs of a disassembled chair, its white surface adorned with numerous golden lines. At the highest point of the platform are two nested golden rings and a semi-circular ring, arranged from smallest to largest. Numerous golden spears extend from the center of these rings; the longest are those along the X and Y axes, followed by two rays extending at a 45-degree angle. In addition, there are several golden spikes of varying lengths.

A person dressed in a magnificent white robe is standing on the platform.

"That's the guy! He's the one who paid the ransom!" Enzo shouted, pointing at the television. The man on screen was dressed even more religiously than Salomon, in a white high-necked robe with red trim, and even a purple crown adorning his shoulders with a white peacock—the peacock's head on his left shoulder, its tail on his right—and a sun-shaped watch on his right chest. Enzo said, "This man is the leader of the Ragnarokists, and he's never shown his face to the public before. But he appeared this Easter, which only comes once every 500 years. Some people say they don't know if he's still alive after the last Easter."

Salomon narrowed his eyes—Baldr was certainly still alive 500 years ago, for he was the Lumen Sage, possessing the power of angels; such power made it easy for someone to live for 500 years. The man on television with his white hair combed back and a golden mask covering the left side of his face was the Baldr the Sorcerer Supreme had mentioned.

"The Izawell Corporation possesses cutting-edge technology unseen in this ancient religious city. The believers regard these as miracles," Enzo continued his explanation. However, what he said next was all information Bayonetta already knew, such as that Baldr was the last member of the Sage Clan.

The duplicate information was worthless! This caused Enzo's plan to delay payment to fail once again.

"He paid Bayonetta's reward? If that's the case, yesterday's church was probably a trap, and that Exusiai might have been sent by him too," Salomon asked. "But Bayonetta is unharmed! If he wanted to capture Bayonetta, shouldn't he have sent someone much more powerful?"

"We have no idea what Bader is thinking," Rodin said. "For now, we can only wait and see."

Salomon nodded, then sighed. "That's all we can do. I'll return to Kamar-Taj and report this to the Sorcerer Supreme. Until we reach a definitive solution... Bayonetta, you'd better hunt fewer angels. Who knows if it's Baldr's trap? Bayonetta?"

The witch seemed to drift off for a moment, and then, with her keen hearing, Salomon could even hear a "pop" as she pulled a tube of lipstick from the deep cleavage of her chest. Bayonetta unscrewed the lipstick, and a blast of cold air escaped.

"Is this what you brought with you when you woke up?" Rodin asked.

"right."

"Does this thing not remind you of anything?"

"yes."

"You can show it to a sorcerer," Rodan said, pointing to Salomon beside him. "I don't recognize the spell on it, but perhaps there are clues in the library of Kamar-Taj. If you know what this thing does, maybe you can recall something."

Bayonetta was becoming increasingly interested in Baldr. Just moments before, Baldr had suddenly looked at the distant news camera, as if he were looking at a witch in front of a television. He had also said something that no one but Bayonetta heard. That sentence triggered a flood of memories in Bayonetta's mind—she felt as if she were in a tower and forest engulfed in flames, the heat surrounding her; she saw a white-clad man floating in the air, with countless peacock feathers extending from his back, and feathers falling to earth like snowflakes.

"I'm waiting for you, my dear daughter..."

The witch was on high alert. But everything seemed normal; it appeared the man named Baldr hadn't turned around to say those words, and it was all Bayonetta's hallucination. Aside from her, the others watching television noticed nothing amiss.

Daughter? Why would Baldr call her that? Salomon said that only one person remained of both the Sage and the Witch clans, but due to the scarcity of information, no one knew whether Baldr and Bayonetta were related.

"I'm going home now, my sons said they're going to celebrate my birthday!" Enzo finished his drink and stood up from his seat.

"You're not planning to pay today either?"

"Consider it a birthday present from you! Thank you, Rodin." Enzo swaggered out. "I'll contact you if I need any work!"

"That wretched fat pig!"

"Ciao~!"

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)