After multiple rounds of auditing and verification from every angle he could think of, Morin confirmed that the contract template was solid.
Painfully solid.
Every precaution he had considered-and many he hadn't-was written into it. But that made sense. This template existed specifically to deal with crafty beings like hell-devils. When the other party specialized in loopholes, no level of rigor was excessive.
Of course, if he could've slipped a trap into the contract and flipped the table on the other side, that would've been ideal.
But clearly, that kind of thing almost never happened.
Morin guessed Duke's success in scamming Mephisto back in that Ghost Rider world came down to two factors. First, Duke was just a mortal, so Mephisto never bothered being cautious. Second, that Mephisto was probably young and inexperienced.
"Young," of course, was relative-only when compared to other Mephistos in the Marvel Multiverse. In absolute terms, the age was definitely horrifying.
Pulling his thoughts back, Morin reviewed the stack of contracts one final time.
Then he signed.
His True Name formed on the page, imprinted with a trace of primordial power.
Golden light flashed.
The "labor contract"-officially binding Morin as an employee-took effect.
Job description: Sorcerer Supreme daily duties.
Working hours: 007.
Compensation: Countless spells.
Duration: Ten years.
Calculated like this...
Was there any worker more miserable than him?
No days off all year. No social security. No pension.
Ten years straight.
"...Then the contract is established," the Ancient One said with a smile. "I'll inform the others. Tomorrow, we'll hold a simple transfer ceremony."
"Of course," Morin nodded. Then he paused. "About the sorcerer we encountered earlier..."
"Kaecilius," the Ancient One replied. "An outstanding apprentice. The future is not fixed."
"I understand," Morin said. "But he's already showing certain... personality traits."
In the comics, Kaecilius served Baron Mordo. In this timeline, he was the Ancient One's prized student. Later, when he wasn't chosen as successor, he turned to dark magic and struck a deal with the ruler of the Dark Dimension-Dormammu. His plan was to destroy Earth's sanctums and allow Dormammu to descend and devour the planet.
Naturally, it didn't end well.
"Perhaps," the Ancient One said lightly, offering no commitment.
"Then I'll take my leave," Morin said, standing. "I'll return tomorrow."
He turned and walked out, already thinking about his future plans.
Becoming Sorcerer Supreme meant his leisurely life was officially over.
And the storm he'd stirred earlier felt... large.
Too large.
Should he intervene and clean it up?
Or trust in the protagonist's plot armor?
As he thought, Morin suddenly remembered something.
He stopped, turned back a few steps, and spoke.
"Oh, right. Ancient One-"
"Woooo-hoooo! Off work! Off work!"
A primal cheer erupted from the Ancient One's direction.
Morin froze.
Her back was to him.
Her movements were... also primal.
If there were high-energy music and a DJ booth, this would've looked exactly like a disco dance floor.
Morin: "..."
The shock hit him full force.
His jaw nearly met the floor.
Where was the calm, steady Ancient One from earlier?
Where was the transcendent Sorcerer Supreme whose every movement embodied the Dao?
Who was this person making primal noises?
Where did you hide the Ancient One?!
At the same time, the sound Morin made reached her ears.
Time seemed to stop.
The Ancient One froze mid-motion.
"I didn't see anything," Morin said instantly, turning around and walking away with maximum self-awareness.
"Stop," the Ancient One said. "Come back."
"...Is that really necessary?" Morin turned back with a strained smile. "We just finalized such a great partnership..."
"Master Morin, please sit and have some tea."
When he turned fully around, she was already seated properly at the tea table, posture immaculate, smile serene.
The Ancient One was back.
But Morin swore-on years of experience-that she was currently on the verge of exploding.
Her aura was so dense it was almost tangible.
"Ahem..." Morin coughed twice and carefully sat down.
This was not the time to gamble on her moral character.
When it came to social death, there were only two solutions.
Kill the witness.
Or move to another planet.
Even though she hadn't experienced the worst kind-public embarrassment-given her identity and prior image, the damage was still catastrophic.
"Our cooperation earlier was very pleasant," the Ancient One said, smiling as she poured tea.
The aroma was refreshing.
Morin did not dare touch it.
"Yes."
"So I won't hide this from you," she continued calmly. "The Eye of Agamotto cannot affect you. Otherwise, I would've used it just now."
"We only need to reach a consensus."
"Nothing happened just now."
"Yes," Morin nodded immediately. "Nothing happened."
That didn't stop him from laughing hysterically in his head.
At the same time, a trace of concern surfaced.
Just how heavy and tedious was the Sorcerer Supreme's workload, to make the Ancient One release... that side of herself?
He hadn't expected this either.
Out of respect, he hadn't used telepathy. And Kamar-Taj's rooms were layered with protective magic against sound and perception.
This incident was purely...
Coincidental.
Morin didn't explain.
Explaining now would be like performing a public autopsy on the Ancient One's social death.
That would be suicidal arrogance.
So he changed the subject.
"Why can't the Eye of Agamotto affect me?"
"It conflicts with the item you possess," the Ancient One replied directly. "And it is inferior in power. At most, I can glimpse certain future actions. Time manipulation against you is impossible."
Morin relaxed slightly.
Not because of the information-but because she chose to tell him.
That meant the irritation was still under control.
No duel between current and future Sorcerer Supreme.
After some painfully awkward small talk, Morin fled.
Before leaving, he still asked the question he'd originally intended to ask.
After all, if the consequences had already occurred, it'd be a waste not to get the information.
Even if those "consequences" were mostly hers.
After Morin left, the Ancient One remained seated in silence.
Her hand gripping the bone china cup had gone white.
"This is nothing," she muttered. "I'm just excited. After working for so long, being liberated... it's natural to react a little."
"Even if I was seen..."
"Even if I was seen, it's just social death. Just..."
Crack.
The cup shattered.
Not from physical force-but leaking magic.
She set it down.
Fine cracks spread across its surface, multiplying until they covered the entire cup.
Then it collapsed into powder, dissolving into the tea and forming a puddle on the table.
The Ancient One's expression was solemn.
...Fighting would've been better.
Moments later, green light appeared.
The puddle reversed itself.
Tea separated from powder. Cracks sealed. Time flowed backward.
"I'm not angry," she breathed slowly. "I'm not angry. I'm not angry..."
Not angry my foot.
With a louder crash, the teacup and wooden table shattered together.
Morin didn't stop.
He didn't care if anyone saw him.
After a few steps, teleportation light descended, and he vanished-reappearing in his temporary residence in New York.
His face was pale.
It wasn't fear of being silenced.
He trusted his strength.
Even the Ancient One couldn't guarantee crushing him-especially when the Eye of Agamotto didn't work.
And oddly enough, that information was trustworthy.
For example, if she trapped him in a time loop like the one used on Dormammu, Morin could simply exit using the system.
Opportunity to Create a World.
Place himself beyond the sea of stars.
Could a time loop trap him then?
Impossible.
The reason was simple.
The Time Stone only functioned within the Marvel Multiverse.
The system worked everywhere.
That alone proved the difference.
One was a key for a single lock.
The other was a skeleton key.
If both opened the same lock...
Which was more valuable?
Obviously the skeleton key.
Especially since it came with a complimentary 007 no-rest package including food, housing, and incarceration.
The real reason Morin was shaken was something else.
It involved one of his profession skills in this world-[Photographer].
Specifically, [A Photographer Always Has a Camera].
Also known as [The Man with a Camera on His Face].
It had been useless ever since he got it.
To avoid accusations of padding word count, he wouldn't repeat the description.
The point was-
The camera was on his face.
Everything he saw was recorded.
Everything.
Including...
That segment of the Ancient One's Large-Scale Human Primal Phenomenon.
Morin quietly scanned his surroundings twice.
Then, without drawing attention, he began setting up barriers.
He had to be careful.
What he was about to take out...
Was more dangerous than nuclear launch codes.