Marvel: The Alchemist Just Wants a Peaceful Life

As Sherlock stood before her, the short-haired woman gave him her signature smile.

Hello, how can I help you?

Despite the polite inquiry from the receptionist, Sherlock remained expressionless, his hands resting on the bar counter, his eyes filled with coldness, as he spoke to the short-haired woman.

"My name is Sherlock Flamel! I want to see the manager here!"

Sherlock's tone was cold and harsh, almost as if the words "I'm here with ill intentions" were written all over his face.

This situation caused the woman behind the bar to freeze for a moment, but she quickly regained her professional composure and addressed Sherlock with a standard smile.

"First of all, Mr. Flamel, I need to remind you that the use of any force is prohibited inside the Continental Hotel; that is the hotel's rule."

Secondly, sir, if you need anything, please let me know first. If it's serious, I will notify the manager to handle it..."

Before the receptionist could finish speaking, scarlet lightning began to crackle from Sherlock's hand, which was resting on the bar counter. The next second, the bar counter that had been blocking the two of them turned to ashes and vanished without a trace.

Before the receptionist could react, the tip of a long spear gleaming with metallic light was already pressed against her throat. Sherlock, now like a tiger ready to devour its prey, stared intently at the receptionist with bloodshot eyes, his voice sounding as if it came from hell.

"I said, call your manager out here!"

Sherlock's voice wasn't quiet; almost everyone in the lobby could hear it clearly. But despite hearing it, no one dared to stand up and attack Sherlock, who had come to cause trouble, in exchange for the Continental Hotel's reward, as they usually did.

The reason is simple: Sherlock's method of making the entire bar disappear is clearly not something an ordinary person could do.

Although these assassins were skilled, they were still just ordinary people at heart. When faced with a superhuman like Sherlock, they would naturally try to stay as far away as possible.

Chapter 40 The Manager of the Continental Hotel

The man at the front desk, with Sherlock's Spear of Longinus pressed against his throat, felt his legs go weak as he experienced the cold touch of the spear against his neck and the chilling killing intent emanating from the man before him.

She even had a feeling that if her next words didn't align with the thoughts of the troublemaker in front of her, the spear would likely pierce her neck without hesitation.

The so-called rules and regulations of mainland hotels could no longer serve as her shield at this moment.

The Mainland Hotel does indeed prohibit the use of any force within the hotel, but this rule only applies to members. For superhumans like Sherlock, even if they were to actually use force, the Mainland Hotel would only issue a symbolic kill order and that would be the end of it.

It's important to understand that assassins aren't stupid; no one wants to actually confront those superhumans, so the so-called 'kill order' targeting those superhumans is completely ignored.

Just as the receptionist was sweating profusely, pondering how to appease the person in front of her, a woman's voice interrupted their conversation.

"Mr. Piercing Sherlock, please calm down. The use of force is prohibited inside the Continental Hotel."

Upon hearing the sound, Sherlock looked in the direction from which it came and saw an elderly woman, clearly dressed as a noblewoman, standing elegantly at the elevator entrance. The elevator doors behind her had just closed, indicating that she had rushed over to the rescue.

But what the hell is this so-called "piercing master"?

Sherlock's head was full of question marks. He felt contempt for the group's ability to come up with nicknames, but he turned a blind eye to his own extensive cosplay of the Piercing Prince in the Middle East.

Seeing Sherlock's gaze turn towards her, the old woman finally smiled and continued speaking to Sherlock.

“I am Laura Austin, the manager of the Continental Hotel in Los Angeles.”

As the other party introduced himself, Sherlock's previously angry face finally showed a hint of a smile. He then withdrew the spear that was pinned to the receptionist's neck and casually twirled it.

As Sherlock moved, the moment the tip of his spear swept across what should have been the bar counter, the bar counter, which had turned to ashes and vanished into nothingness, miraculously returned to its original state in the blink of an eye.

Not only the bar building itself, but even the keys stored inside and the computer on the bar were restored to their original state in an instant.

If the data on the computer hadn't already disappeared, almost everyone would have thought that Sherlock making the bar disappear was just a collective hallucination.

This scene successfully made everyone who witnessed the whole thing gasp inwardly, silently adding Sherlock's name to their list of people they couldn't mess with.

Sherlock himself didn't care what the assassins and information brokers were thinking. After casually restoring the bar, Sherlock glanced at the front desk and threw the spear in his hand. The spear automatically floated behind Sherlock and followed him toward Laura Austin.

If Sherlock's previous 'performance' of destroying and then restoring the bar could be explained by illusion, then the spear now steadily floating on Sherlock's back is a declaration to everyone that Sherlock is extraordinary.

As Sherlock approached, Laura Austin's mind instinctively conjured up the horrific scene of the Ten Rings' desert base. Despite a hint of fear in her heart, her years of training allowed her to maintain a composed smile as she addressed Sherlock.

“Mr. Sherlock, please come with me. Let’s go to the reception room to talk.”

Having said that, he turned and walked toward the elevator, where he stood and waited for Sherlock.

Sherlock didn't refuse and casually followed the manager named Laura into the elevator.

Soon, Laura led Sherlock to the top floor of the Continental Hotel in Los Angeles, to a suite that combined an office, a living room, and a bedroom. Laura elegantly invited Sherlock to sit down, while she herself took the head seat, which belonged to the manager.

"Would you like something to drink, Mr. Sherlock?"

Despite the old woman's politeness, Sherlock maintained his cold 'persona' and spoke to Laura.

"No need, you and I both know I didn't come here just to be polite."

Hearing Sherlock's words, Laura breathed a slight sigh of relief. This meant that Sherlock hadn't come here without a reason to cause trouble.

In other words, there's still a chance to negotiate this matter! As long as there's room for negotiation, Laura doesn't think it's a big deal.

"In that case, Mr. Sherlock, why don't you just tell me what brings you to my hotel?"

Hearing Laura's direct question, Sherlock had no intention of continuing to be dawdling. He casually pulled out the document Coulson had given him from his pocket and tossed it onto the coffee table in front of him.

Laura's pupils contracted sharply the instant she saw the huge eagle emblem on the cover of the document Sherlock had thrown out.

It's clear that Lara, as a member of the management of this Continental Hotel, knows exactly what S.H.I.E.L.D. represents.

At least for now, S.H.I.E.L.D. is undoubtedly the most militarily powerful organization in the world, bar none! After all, theoretically, S.H.I.E.L.D. is backed by the five most powerful nations in the world.

Sherlock didn't speak, but after throwing out the data, he stared intently at Laura in front of him.

Seeing Sherlock's expression, Laura reluctantly picked up the S.H.I.E.L.D. internal documents on the table.

The moment she opened it, Laura's expression changed drastically. The elegant and noble smile on her face vanished, replaced by surprise and shock.

The reason is very simple: the first page of this document is a list of tasks that mainland hotels used to receive and distribute before computers existed!

The names of the clients, which should have been blacked out on the list, were now prominently displayed in a way that sent chills down Lara's spine.

Obadiah Stanislav!

What chilled Laura even more was the name of the target on the order form.

Anne Flamel and Nick Flamel!

And these two names are clearly inextricably linked to Sherlock Flammel in front of us!

Chapter 41 Authorization Form

The Mainland Hotel has a long history; it existed long before computers were invented. Back then, assassins used paper-based commission forms to accept and complete missions.

Typically, such orders are made in duplicate. One copy, with key information blacked out and along with a photo of the target, is sent to the assassin. The assassin completes the mission according to the contents of the order, and then the hotel on the mainland will confirm the details.

Once confirmed, the hitman's order will be stamped and combined with the complete order originally stored at the Mainland Hotel before being sent to the High Table's dedicated archives.

What appears before Laura now is the very same request form that should have been kept on the high table!

Laura simply couldn't understand why the data stored on the High Table ended up in the hands of S.H.I.E.L.D., and even more perplexing was why S.H.I.E.L.D.'s data ended up in Sherlock's hands.

The implications behind this are increasingly chilling to contemplate, clearly exceeding the capabilities of a mainland hotel manager to handle.

Although she was terrified inside, Lara managed to maintain a calm demeanor, though her subconscious movements betrayed her inner panic.

After briefly glancing at the information Sherlock had provided, Laura closed the documents in her hand and placed them back on the coffee table.

Throughout the entire process, Laura didn't even notice that her hands were trembling slightly.

After taking a deep breath, Laura put on a professional smile again and looked in Sherlock's direction, asking him a question.

"This is indeed a booking form from the Continental Hotel. I wonder what Mr. Sherlock's intentions are—revenge or..."

Laura was interrupted by Sherlock before she could finish speaking. After pointing to the documents on the table, Sherlock said to Laura with a playful smile.

"Don't worry, I'm always a reasonable person. The Mainland Hotel is the Mainland Hotel, the assassin is the assassin, and the person behind them is the person behind them."

I know very well that my enemy is Obadiah, but I also need the Continental Hotel to give me an explanation!

"Of course, not too much. I just need evidence and the truth. As long as the Mainland Hotel can tell me who accepted the mission and what they did, rest assured, I will absolutely not implicate the Mainland Hotel in this matter."

Hearing Sherlock's words, Laura's brows furrowed even deeper. The reason was simple: at this moment, Laura actually hoped that Sherlock would directly take action against the Continental Hotel.

Only in this way can the rules maintained by the Continental Hotel be upheld, and even the 'minimum' cost of the Continental Hotel in Los Angeles be used to release Sherlock's dissatisfaction.

Conversely, if, as Sherlock claims, they were given information about the assassin and the method of assassination, then the reputation that the Continental Hotel has maintained for many years would collapse in an instant, and the collapse of reputation would be the truly unacceptable thing for the Continental Hotel.

Sherlock naturally understood what Lara was thinking, and instead of immediately asking for an answer, he stood up and spoke to her after seeing her fall silent.

"I'll give you three days. During those three days, you are free to contact your so-called High Table or the elders hiding in the Middle East to see how they will handle the situation, or even launch a manhunt for me. I will accept whatever they say!"

I will be back in three days. If you are not prepared with the answer I want when I return, then don't blame me for getting angry and making the so-called rules of the entire Continental Hotel disappear from this world!

Believe me, when others say this, it might be a bluff or intimidation, but I'm making a real threat.

As Sherlock spoke, he opened his arms. As his words fell, a red light flashed in his eyes, and crimson lightning erupted from his hands. The gold coins from the Continental Hotel fell to the ground with a clattering sound.

Almost every sound seemed to strike Laura's heart, leaving her dumbfounded.

Seeing that he had achieved the desired effect, Sherlock didn't waste his Philosopher's Stone any longer. He gave a cold laugh to Laura, who was sitting there in a daze, and then turned around and left the manager's room on the top floor.

Until Sherlock left the Continental Hotel in New York, no one dared to stop him or speak to him; in fact, almost everyone avoided Sherlock's gaze.

Only when the sound of the Raptor engine gradually faded into the distance did the Continental Hotel return to its usual bustling state.

Only after Sherlock left did the receptionist dare to rush to the elevator and run towards the top floor.

But when the receptionist pushed open the door to the top-floor room, she was stunned by what she saw. The hotel manager was looking at the documents on the coffee table with a gloomy face, and at his feet, piles of Continental Hotel gold coins were scattered on the ground.

If you ignore the complex expression on Lara's face, the whole scene really gives you a feeling of extravagance and decadence.

"manager!"

The receptionist called out to Laura. Hearing the call, Laura snapped out of her daze, rubbed her temples wearily, and then spoke to the receptionist standing at the entrance.

"Christine, contact the High Table. This is beyond our control."

However, it was obvious that after listening to Laura's words, the receptionist named Christine seemed to have misunderstood something. Instead of taking immediate action, she frowned, thought for a while, and then spoke.

"Manager, I do not recommend that you contact the High Table. For cases involving superhumans like this, the High Table's rules have no binding force whatsoever."

Clearly, Christine misunderstood Laura's thoughts, believing that Laura contacted the High Table because of Sherlock's use of force in the hotel. However, after listening to Christine's words, Laura gave a wry smile and pointed to the documents in front of her before speaking to Christine.

“Compared to what’s laid out in front of me, I’d much rather that boy named Sherlock just demolish my hotel! Go contact the High Table, Christine, and tell them I need a judge!”

Upon hearing Laura's words, Christine couldn't hide her surprise. Following the direction Laura was pointing, her pupils contracted when she saw the large, round eagle emblem on the cover of the document on the coffee table.

After swallowing hard, Christine spoke to Laura.