Marvel: The Sorcerer in America

Nancy pointed towards the old, dilapidated factory and asked, "So... what should we do with this factory?"

"Just relax." Lance shrugged, then tilted his head to look at Nancy. "As long as you don't involve me, everything will be fine. After all, you are the elite in the police department. You surely know that public acceptance of events like this is very limited. The mysterious side is clearly not suitable for public announcement."

Sidney cleared her throat, looking hesitant before asking, "But, what will happen if, uh... we accidentally leak information about you?"

Lance smiled faintly at the question. Calmly, he rubbed his waist, and suddenly a small stick appeared in the palm of his hand. "This is an amnesia stick," Lance said casually.

"A masterpiece from a witch I really like. This stick is engraved with the Forgetfulness Curse. Just by tapping someone on the head, their memory can be partially erased. The level of amnesia will depend on the strength of the tap."

Lance paused for a moment before continuing, "If you leak information about me and it causes official problems, I will have to spend more time ensuring that everyone who knows forgets."

In reality, the amnesia stick was just a joke. There are indeed spells in magic that can erase memories, but only high-level witches can do it with a certain degree of accuracy.

What Lance was holding was actually just a cheer stick from a concert. Yes, it was a relic from a fanatic fan who had once come to Lance's shop to ask for good luck for their idol through a horoscope.

However, the two female police detectives had no idea that Lance was talking nonsense. Their eyes watched the cheer stick warily, as if it were a deadly magical artifact.

In their hearts, they were truly amazed. They thought Lance was a real wizard—unaware that Lance was just playing around with a bit of mischief.

Lance casually waved his amnesia stick, his lips curling into a half-joking smile. "If you feel you can't accept the existence of people like me, or feel insecure about keeping secrets, I can help you forget everything that happened tonight. Don't worry, it won't hurt—just a light touch is enough. At worst, you'll just have a small bruise on your head for two days."

"NO!!"

In unison, both women raised their hands, outright rejecting the offer.

They were not ordinary people who had never seen the outside world. As elite police officers accustomed to facing the dark side of life, they had been through many things that surpassed ordinary human limits. Both women had steel nerves, a result of a tough and challenging childhood.

Lance chuckled softly at their reaction, shrugging. "Alright then. If you need anything, just come to me. I'm sure you know how to contact me." Lance waved casually, then turned towards his vehicle.

However, before Lance could get into the vehicle, Nancy's eyes suddenly lit up. She pointed excitedly at the motorcycle. "What a cool motorcycle!" Nancy exclaimed in admiration.

In front of them stood a bright red motorcycle, like a mechanical giant from the future. Its design closely resembled the concept of a *Dodge Tomahawk*, with two wheels in front and two in the back, giving it a bold impression. The large engine protruding from the side of the motorcycle was coated in shiny brown, emphasizing the thick and charming *cyberpunk* style.

Lance proudly patted the motorcycle's saddle. "Yes, this is Brynhildr."

"Brynhildr?" Nancy stepped closer, her eyes glued to the motorcycle. As a motorcycle enthusiast, Nancy couldn't hide her admiration. She gently caressed the sleek body of the bike, almost as if treating it like a sacred object. "Oh, what a fitting name! The Valkyrie from Norse mythology... of course, a motorcycle as magnificent as this deserves such a name!"

"No, that's not it." Lance calmly shook his head, correcting Nancy's statement. "Brynhildr is a woman. Brynhildr wouldn't be pleased if you called her 'it.'"

Sidney scoffed, waving his hand in an exaggerated manner. "Oh, I really didn't expect a great Wizard like you to consider, uh, 'this woman' as your girlfriend?"

Sidney's tone emphasized the word "woman" with clear mockery.

Lance tilted his head slightly, looking at Sidney with a relaxed yet sharp smile. "Brynhildr is not my girlfriend. Brynhildr is my friend. And who knows, maybe one day you will need Brynhildr's help."

Sidney shrugged, looking skeptical. "Alright, it's up to you."

Lance was unfazed by the response. He casually waved to them, then started Brynhildr's engine. "See you later."

The deep, rumbling roar of the engine immediately filled the air, breaking the silence of the night. The red motorcycle's wheels gripped the asphalt perfectly, creating a small storm of dust and dry leaves around it. The strong wind generated by the vehicle sliced through the wild grass at the roadside, making it look like a scythe passing with perfect precision.

"Wow, that's so cool!" Nancy's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, almost like a child who had just seen their dream toy. However, Sidney rolled his eyes in annoyance, unsure whether Nancy was praising the motorcycle, Lance, or both.

"Hey," Sidney said sharply, "isn't the Dodge Tomahawk banned from public roads?"

Without a hint of doubt, Nancy replied with a small smile, "Lance is a Wizard. He must have a solution."

Brynhildr, a motorcycle resembling the Dodge Tomahawk, was a mechanical masterpiece. The motorcycle was theoretically capable of reaching speeds of 676 kilometers per hour, with an incredible acceleration that could reach 96 kilometers per hour in just 2.5 seconds. The sensation of riding it felt like piercing through a storm, lifting the rider's body as if carried by the flow of air.

However, behind that extraordinary speed lay a weakness. The Dodge Tomahawk was not equipped with protections like wind deflectors or a windshield. Once a certain speed was reached, the strong airflow could become the main enemy.

Without such protection, the rider's body would begin to lift like a bird's wings, creating a significant risk of losing control. That was why this motorcycle was banned on public roads, deemed too extreme even for wild racing enthusiasts.

However, their understanding was completely wrong.

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