Reborn as the God-Emperor in Marvel

"Really, it's no problem. I'm serious. I've already talked to Nick Fury. I know the insurance company won't pay up; they always have some excuse to avoid it. So, Nick Fury agreed to cover the car expenses. After all, it's his mess." Solomon sat in the back seat of a Quinjet, talking on the phone with Kaecilius. "Is the Ancient One angry? No? Okay... No response at all? None?"

"I told you, don't bother the Ancient One with trivial matters like this. I'm sure I said that."

"Who did I mean? Nick Fury, of course."

"As for school, of course, I'll keep going. That was one of the conditions I negotiated. Even if Eaton disagrees, it doesn't matter. And the cabinet? Even less so. Everyone knows who has the final say in the UK. There's still blood on my royal cape! Even the royal family only takes helicopters to school, while I get to ride in a Quinjet. Let's see who dares mess with me now."

The agent in the pilot seat wore a strange expression. He wasn't sure whether to report this conversation to his superiors. After all, this was someone badmouthing the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. But he decided against it, not only because he and his colleagues also privately criticized Fury, but because there was an even higher-ranking agent on board.

After a while, Solomon hung up the phone and glanced at the woman sitting opposite him, whose face was shadowed with an ominous expression—or rather, a feigned one.

"Who are you really?" Natasha Romanoff asked. Earlier, during the operation, she had been in Washington. She had taken leave under the guise of helping Pepper Potts negotiate real estate matters for Stark Industries to lead the mission. She had thought everything was going perfectly, but strange occurrences kept piling up. Now, they had retrieved the bodies and gravely injured agents from the London police. While Solomon had been talking to Fury, she had reviewed the autopsy and scene investigation reports. She could hardly believe that any sword could pierce the roof of a bulletproof car.

"I think... you're not in a position to know that. You can only know my name. Agent Natasha Romanoff, your curiosity is leading you to probe things you shouldn't." Solomon discreetly gripped the sword (still disguised as a cane) on his lap. He had already come to an agreement with Nick Fury, and the Vishanti contract had been signed with additional terms. But now it seemed Fury hadn't given up and was still sending his agents to test the waters, hoping to extract more information.

Solomon had agreed to let Fury provide intelligence on dark magical creatures, and S.H.I.E.L.D. promised not to interfere in magical affairs. But Fury had still insisted that Solomon notify S.H.I.E.L.D. in the event of large-scale disasters. While S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't intervene in combat, they could help with evacuations, which was a big help to Kamar-Taj. Solomon had no reason to refuse.

At the same time, Solomon made his own boundaries clear. If S.H.I.E.L.D. leaked the secret of Kamar-Taj's existence, or if anyone attacked its sorcerers (or apprentices), Fury would have to answer to Solomon. If not, Solomon would target the U.S. government—Congress and the White House could replace officials as often as they wanted, but Solomon would keep killing them until someone gave him an explanation. No one could stop him, not even the Ancient One, because attacking Kamar-Taj was equivalent to rebellion. As for America's rhetoric about human rights, democracy, and freedom? Sorry, that doesn't apply to Kamar-Taj.

As for Fury's request to visit the Abyss, Solomon had indefinitely postponed that. He wasn't about to let anyone mess with his head, not even in a dream. Solomon respected Fury's wishes, intending to take him there personally—after Fury was dead.

"But you killed them!" Natasha Romanoff glared at Solomon. "You knew exactly what you were doing, didn't you?"

"Poor woman." Solomon didn't answer her question but instead looked directly into her eyes without hesitation. "Your mind has been broken and rebuilt so many times. Do you even know who you are anymore? Or is that the key to becoming a top agent?"

The Black Widow simply stared at Solomon, trying to figure him out. He seemed just as arrogant as Tony Stark, if not more so.

"I know the kind of dirt you've had to wade through in your line of work. For a top agent to reach your level, you've sacrificed much. Your fractured mind allows you to lie effortlessly, fully immerse yourself in missions, and even switch gears at a moment's notice when necessary. Maybe you see yourself as a monster," Solomon said calmly. "But believe me, if anyone calls you that, it's because they've never gone through what you've endured. You've done the best you could, and the fact that you're still alive and sitting here is proof. Those who label you a spy will never understand your achievements or abilities."

"Thank you for your understanding, really." Doubt flickered in Black Widow's eyes.

What Solomon said was true. Her shattered mind had indeed been instrumental in her rise to the top. The graduation ceremony in the Red Room had convinced her that she was a monster, and even in S.H.I.E.L.D., she sometimes felt like an outsider. But how did Solomon Damonet know this? Even if Fury trusted him enough to show him agent files, those details were not on any record.

"Don't worry. Nick Fury won't use you as a scapegoat. He still has a shred of humanity when it comes to his best agents," Solomon continued. "When you look into my eyes, you should be cautious. I can see into your soul."

"So that's your ability? Mind-reading? Have we gotten our intelligence wrong?" Natasha Romanoff averted her gaze, shifting her thoughts elsewhere. She didn't know how to deal with a telepath, but she thought maybe this would work. She didn't even realize that her tone toward Solomon had softened, and she wasn't even angry about him peering into her mind.

This wasn't a particularly difficult spell, not even as effective as "Charm Person." But "Friendship Magic" didn't come across as too intrusive, and when dealing with an agent, any sudden moves would arouse suspicion.

"You can think of it that way," Solomon said. "But no matter what, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s intelligence will always be flawed, even if you correct my file. That's assuming S.H.I.E.L.D. even has a file on me."

"Could it be magic?" Natasha Romanoff asked casually, but Solomon fell silent. Was this some sort of female intuition? She looked at Solomon—oh? Did I guess right?

"Think what you want, really. Until Nick Fury decides to tell you the truth," Solomon said as he cast a spell using his Sling Ring. In an instant, the Quinjet, which had been flying at supersonic speeds, crossed the Atlantic and arrived in London. The sudden shift caused the pilot to scramble, but skilled as they were, they quickly stabilized the aircraft, hovering above Eton College before slowly descending.

Solomon turned to Black Widow and said, "But until you need to know, you won't. You don't need to know to decide if you should know. All you need to know is that you don't need to know, until you need to know."

"What?"

"Eton's specialty: complex English sentences. A gentleman's trademark," Solomon said, tapping his sword (or cane). "Also, it's not surprising I understand these things. I'm not some chauvinist. The strongest people around me are women, so I understand you. You need a psychologist, but I'm not an expert in that area. I'm sure S.H.I.E.L.D. will find you one. Now, I should be getting off—I'm still a student."

"Wait." Agent Romanoff stood up and pulled a laptop out of a nearby bag. "A gift from Nick Fury. Every high school student at Eton needs a laptop for homework, right?"

"No problem." Solomon took the laptop and said, "I know S.H.I.E.L.D. installed a backdoor on this, so Nick Fury can rest easy. I won't be watching porn on it, much less doing anything else. If possible, have your IT guy remote into this thing and do my homework for me."

"If you already know, what's the point?" Black Widow said with a smile, not realizing that her attitude toward Solomon had softened even further. She had already forgotten about Coulson's audit.

"This at least gives me time to boss around some senior students, making them fetch me tea and water. And this is Britain. Eton's a full-time boarding school with some strange customs. While I'm not interested in any 'prison wallets,' I'll certainly enjoy bossing them around. You can't even imagine the disgusting things I'm thinking about." Solomon grinned. "I've never been, but I'm sure the bathrooms here must be quite interesting."

"Okay, goodbye, young gentleman." Natasha Romanoff opened the hatch and watched Solomon disembark. "I was wrong. You're nothing like Tony Stark. You're not as much of a jerk."

"You finally realized. I thought I'd have to put on more of a show." Solomon nodded to her. "Goodbye, Ms. Romanoff. Have a pleasant day."

As the Quinjet hatch closed and Solomon disappeared from Natasha Romanoff's view, the faint smile on her face vanished. She shook her head slightly. The effects of Solomon's spell had long worn off; every expression

 and conversation after that had been part of her own performance, designed to extract more information.

And it seemed her work had paid off.

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