"It's up to you, Master of Mischief. I need to know everything in his mind."
Su Ming opened the cloak bundle and handed the Wind Demon to Merlin. As to why he was still called the Master of Mischief, it was because, for now, pretending to know nothing seemed best.
At least in the absence of the Ancient One, actively involving himself in All-Powerful Cosmic Level magical affairs wouldn't be beneficial.
However, the matter of finding the Ancient One's whereabouts had to be put back on the agenda. Su Ming believed the Ancient One knew about Merlin's situation but said nothing, leaving this explosive matter for Deathstroke; this situation was somewhat peculiar.
Merlin didn't notice what Su Ming was thinking. He stroked his beard, scanning the Wind Demon up and down like he was examining ingredients, his eyes shining brightly.
The Wind Demon tried to become elementalized and escape, but was instantly wrapped up like a dumpling by dozens of Setorak Red Belts. The Elder Master's casting speed was so fast, it seemed as if any magic was at his fingertips.
"Don't try to run. From now on, your lifelong experiment number is 10086. Just obediently come with me, hehe..."
Merlin chuckled eerily as he dragged the Wind Demon away, not forgetting to say that the intelligence would be delivered soon before he left.
Charles shivered, thankful that the Elder Mage had no intention of experimenting on mutants; otherwise, he always felt slightly in danger.
He didn't actually know, but Merlin had already conducted experiments on mutants quite extensively with subject number 9527. Horror's superpowers were exceptionally comprehensive; naturally, the directions of the experiments were also very broad.
"I suppose my travels should start from here in London, Mr. Wilson. I'm leaving now." Charles pointed in the direction of the door, asking tentatively.
Su Ming nodded, took out a stack of US Dollars from his waist pack, and handed them to the Little Bald Head: "Be careful when you're out. Call when you run out of money. Also, that's not the direction to the door; that's the restroom. Master of Mischief's prank, the door is the other way."
After saying this, he pointed in the opposite direction from Charles, where there was another door.
"Uh, thank you." Charles took the money, sighed helplessly, and walked away with his head down.
The mage's territory was like a maze. The New York Temple was manageable; Charles had passed by there upon arrival. The Black Great Mage named Master White kept everything in the temple orderly. Despite there being many doors leading to unknown places like Fur Bear nesting dolls, they were still within understandable limits.
But the London Temple? It seemed like inside a Magic Cube, beneath the grand appearance, the rooms, stairs, and even doors were constantly shifting, as if they were entirely different every moment.
Sometimes you remember the door leads to the living room, but upon opening, it's the kitchen or dungeon behind it. Sometimes you're on the stairs, and they suddenly start moving, leading you somewhere you don't intend to go. Sometimes even the rooms are inverted, with furnishings and people inside sticking to the ceiling like anti-gravity.
Charles felt he might not be compatible with magic. His thinking was too rational to grasp those mysterious things.
Watching Charles walk away in defeat, Ciri sat on the sofa with arms crossed, "What shall we do next?"
"Now that the matter with the Magnetic King is resolved, I exchanged avenging him for him taking the fall for Monac and Steve. Charles didn't want anything, so I gave him money; it's all fair trade. Next, it's my own business: find the Root of Hatred, kill her, and seize her assets as compensation for interrupting my vacation."
Su Ming also sat on a sofa, shaking the teapot on the nearby table. It was empty, without the sound of water, yet a child's laughter echoed, like being tickled.
"Hee hee hee hee..."
He expressionlessly put the teapot back in place, took out a bottle of beer from his small bag, and handed one to Palham and Ciri each.
Ciri rolled her eyes, thinking only Deathstroke could stay so calm facing such an eerie prank.
"So where is he?" she asked.
"Anyway, the Iceland base was abandoned by her. I made a deal with Zemo, and regarding her current location, we have two leads. One is with Howard, searching for the production site based on the robot's remains. The other is with the Wind Demon. If his master Black Heart and Lady Nine-Heads have some trade, then they must have some trading channels."
After drinking half of his beer, Palham used his single arm to feed the remaining half to his horse, watching the black horse gulp down the rest. He smiled and caressed its neck with his arm:
"Since Black Heart and Demons are involved, then it's also my responsibility. Those half-demon sorcerers you're talking about, leave them to me."
"That's good. However, I think when we last fought Lady Nine-Heads, she chose to self-destruct, an act resembling Japanese style. Also, she previously brought out a massive ocean monster, and Steve and Peggy were imprisoned underwater, indicating the U Demon is still cooperating with her. These are additional two leads, but there's no need to follow them; we only need to keep an eye on her."
Su Ming leaned on the sofa explaining the plan to the two. Palham indeed needed to accompany him; neither he nor Ciri had skills in elemental or soul attacks, but the Evil Spirit Knight could fill this gap.
Moreover, the last time Su Ming borrowed the Evil Spirit Knight from Mephisto, no duration was specified, was it?
Then as long as you don't return it, it's like you can keep borrowing indefinitely...
"So we just sit here and wait?" Ciri twirled the bottle in her hand, feeling fidgety.
No matter what she was investigating, she was always in a hurry, that's just her personality.
Su Ming shrugged, Merlin said he'd have news soon, so it should be quick. He pulled out a bunch of little cards from his pouch and slapped them onto the table beside him.
"How about it? A game of Gwent?"
Ciri pouted and turned her head towards the door, Gwent was no fun at all, who wanted to play cards?!
...............
The interrogation results were out. When Merlin returned to the meeting room, he found that Deathstroke and the others had dragged a coffee table over and were playing three-person Mahjong on the carpet.
"Oh come on, playing three missing one without calling me," he said, rolling up his sleeves as he intended to join for a few rounds, "I'll tell you, I've got a good feeling about my state today, puff! puff!"
As he spoke, he actually raised both hands, flexing his fingers, and blew into his palms.
Su Ming reached out to block him from joining the table, "If you weren't so slow, do you think we'd willingly play Mahjong? Besides, the four players are obviously complete."
Merlin looked over at the black horse beside the table. The horse's big eyes were also staring at him, creating a moment of silence in the air.
A moment later, he pointed with a trembling finger at Palham's horse, "You're actually playing Mahjong with a horse?! Are you crazy... don't you know, its eyes are on the sides of its head and its neck is longer than yours, it must be peeking at the tiles."
Ciri pushed her tiles into the pile in front of her, stood up, and stretched her waist, "As if you wouldn't use magic to cheat if we played with you. Last time I played with Hamill, he dared to win with a pure white set..."
"Huh? Isn't magic Mahjong all about who transforms the best?"
Merlin, on the other hand, looked utterly confused at Deathstroke, playing Mahjong or Poker, no matter what, conjuring tricks or card printing on the spot, wasn't it all common knowledge in the Magic Realm?
Once magic was used, the tiles automatically bloomed, and joy was complete.
Su Ming waved his hand in exasperation, he knew long ago that playing cards with Mages was a lost cause, "Alright, Master of Mischief, we were just passing time, now tell us your intel, we have serious matters to handle, maybe I'll have Monac and Mordo keep you company next time."
"Hmm, alright, playing with Monac at least means roasted rabbit," Merlin nodded, letting the matter drop. "But unfortunately, I probably can't give you good news. According to statement 10086, it was really Black Heart who formed the Warlock Assault Team, initially using magic to control some Hydra members, intending to showcase Demon Power, and entice more mortals under his control."
"Oh?"
"But that was just a side move, one to probe Kama Taiji's attitude, and two, to avoid Mephisto's attention while absorbing fallen souls. Yet after Germany's defeat, he abandoned this useless tool."
Su Ming rubbed his chin, pressing his fingers against his stubble, "Black Heart gave up since after World War II...so who's commanding the team now? They can't be acting on their own, right?"
Merlin adjusted his glasses, a cold light flashing across the lenses, "Indeed, a Black Mage took over, but his motive was purely out of hatred for Kama Taiji."
"Oh? Tell me more," Su Ming grinned.
Merlin didn't hold back, he walked over, picked up the strange-smiling teapot, and poured himself some tea, "The Ancient One has a few direct disciples, haven't you figured it out? Jibo, Drew, Mordo, now who's missing from Kama Taiji, that must be the bad guy."
"Jibo, huh, it's been ages since I knocked him off the Himalayas with a 'Thousand-Year Kill,' I thought he was dead. Turns out, he's been lying low for years, plotting something bad."
Su Ming sighed, he had almost forgotten about that short bald guy. The most memorable thing about him was Jibo's unique hairstyle, bald on top, with the sides of his hair spread like airplane wings, the classic Law God style.
"He long ago joined the Supreme Mage Kalu from the Alternate Dimension, that woman is The Ancient One's old nemesis, Jibo isn't easy to kill."
"Now that we know it's Jibo, the problem is simple, this time we'll eliminate Xiaohuzi and cleanse Kama Taiji's ranks while we're at it."
Su Ming patted his chest, the black and yellow armor instantly enveloping him. He led his people to the small balcony outside the window, pulling out the golden Godslayer, pointing his sword to the sky in a grand heroic pose:
"Heimdall!"