Marvel Book of Magical Events

The Sovereign, as his master insists and repeats again and again, is a human being.

Such thinking did not spring from blind allegiance; his sovereign encouraged him to think for himself. Zero dared to say the same when he first met the Sovereign in the arena of the Immortal City and witnessed his hard-to-open-eyes nature. After the light faded, he struggled to open his eyes that were crying because of being burned, and saw sadness, impatience, humor, loss and other emotions that mortals should have on the noble and beautiful face of the monarch. These emotions all reminded Number Zero that his monarch was just a mortal with extraordinary strength and wisdom. Now it seems that his monarch is indulged in the nature of mortals, but the Praetorian Guard Zero cannot imagine how his monarch will use the soul of a mortal to support that future.

No. Zero didn't know it yet, but when he was thinking independently, his monarch fell into thinking about information theory.

Salomon's hostility towards Eternal God completely disappeared. Not through the persuasion of the Supreme Master, but through the research on information theory in his graduate courses-from the perspective of microphysics, an electron is a continuous iteration of an electron undergoing subtle changes, and each generation of electrons has a slight gap. There is no stable electron in this world. The degree to which the subsequent electron generation varies from the previous generation depends on its tiny selection. These tiny choices make up the complex minds that humans and other mammals share, from communication to the genetic basis, from macrophysics to microphysics, where information plays a role. From this point of view, Salomon himself is an electron that constitutes the will of the universe, and the universe does not need to care about any choices made by his electron. He is a tiny embodiment of the message conveyed by this cosmic will.

This is not a mess of theological concepts, but philosophical thinking from a scientific point of view.

After solving the problem in his mind, Salomon suddenly felt a lot more relaxed. He passionately kissed the witches (two) who were too tired to stay in bed, then put on his clothes and went out.

"Thank you." Salomon said softly, his voice was so soft that it was even drowned in the waves of the machine's sharp chirping. Holding a bouquet in his hands, his face was full of humanity, but only one person saw his expression. Vanessa just woke up, and bright colors immediately crashed into her blurred vision. "Don't worry, Wilson Fisk is here." The mystic didn't open his mouth, but his voice was clearly transmitted into Vanessa's brain. Vanessa recognized the owner of the voice, and her barely tensed back relaxed again, "Some water? Even if we wet my lips."

Vanessa breathed a sigh of relief and closed her eyes again. Until Salomon brought the glass of warm water to her mouth, and she barely swallowed a few mouthfuls. She said in a somewhat hoarse voice, "Thank me for what, Baroque boy?"

"You defied fate, Vanessa. You should have died here, but you survived, abstract artist. How many poisoned people have you seen survive?"

"Say something sweet." She closed her eyes, smiled and said in a hoarse voice, "I know that Minerva and you both have something special, and even the children in the orphanage are also special. I knew that it was not that simple for Minerva to ask me to drink."

"This is your first time facing death, Vanessa. But there will be a second, third time. As long as you stay by Wilson Fisk's side, the danger will not stop, like a greedy she-wolf chasing souls." The voice sounded in Vanessa's mind, as clear as it came from the throat of the mystic, "I can accurately predict when you will experience death. If you insist on your own way, no matter how many times you escape, I will always hold a funeral for you. I even know the circumstances of your funeral .”

"Is this your superpower, seeing death? Minerva taught you very well. I didn't know you were familiar with The Divine Comedy." Vanessa forced a chuckle, "You know I won't change my mind, boy. Would you give up those two girlfriends of yours?"

"I……"

"You will make the same choice as me, won't you?" If Vanessa opened her eyes, she would find an unforgettable hesitation on Salomon's face. Abstract painters seem to have forgotten that they have lost the strength to speak. The poison had not affected her so lightly, and she was tired. She thought she had spoken, but she didn't realize that she was just stating it in her head. But even so, Salomon still heard her question and answered it.

"If it's between duty and life... I can't make a choice, Vanessa." His voice sounded very sad, and Vanessa suddenly felt that this sadness was like a scorching blade cutting into her brain, which made her wake up all of a sudden. As an artist, Vanessa has extremely sensitive empathy and imagination. This ability is a wonderful talent for an artist, but it is the root of corruption for a wizard. She first saw a torrential rain falling in the dark city, wet streets and dead bodies all over the ground, and then endless bloody corpses burning in the fire, she almost smelled the smell of burning. Immediately afterwards, she forgot what she saw before, and she only felt a certain impression remained in her brain, like a hot brand.

Her talent didn't allow her to see too much, but even so, she still noticed something was wrong.

"I must choose the former, even if there are thousands of reasons to choose the latter, I must choose the former."

"Why, boy?" she asked the mystic in her usual tone, "Why not the latter?"

"Because the former can save hundreds of millions of people, so I have no choice." Frustration flashes away, followed by toughness and determination. "I envy ordinary people. They can lower their heads and enjoy their lives full of humanity, no matter how bad it is, instead of raising their heads to see the gloomy universe and the threats lurking under the veil."

"You're going to be a hero?"

"No, I will become the cruelest murderer, the most cunning king, and the most ruthless politician. You can put all the adjectives for bad humanity on me, because I will commit those crimes in the future, and I will eventually pay the price." Silence enveloped the ward. Salomon turned the direction of the bouquet to Vanessa, and it took a while before he spoke again. "If Wilson Fisk wants you to be sent abroad, you should do so immediately. I will let my men protect your safety, but that's all, I will not provide any help to Wilson Fisk."

"Why?"

"You asked too many questions today, Vanessa. I'll tell you, because I've given Wilson Fisk's criminal material to someone who needs it. Even if America didn't have the death penalty, your life would be terrible without Wilson Fisk. No matter how much you love him, he's always been a bad gangster. No one gets away with their sins, not even me. Sooner or later the flames of vengeance against him will reach you and burn you to ashes. Or worse, you're still alive. Salomon stood up and carefully wiped the dried blood on his knuckles with a wet tissue. After sorting everything out, he buttoned up his suit. "Wilson Fisk's bodyguards are coming to change shifts," he said. "They protected you so well that they asked me repeatedly about my identity. I had to kill them to get in. Don't show sympathy at this time. I have never seen you show sympathy for those victims!"

"Your mouth is too mean, Salomon." Vanessa stared at the back of the mystic.

"I can't help it. Taunting others is my rare entertainment." Salomon kissed Vanessa's forehead, "Sister Vanessa, you can't escape my poisonous tongue. Take care of your illness. I broke the head of another idiot who wanted to kill you on the way here."

"Could you reveal who wanted my life? I could tell you a hundred bad little stories about prophecy. Don't hold on to it any longer. The sooner you know something, the better."

"You still haven't given up on helping him, right?" The mystic shook his head helplessly. "It's not because of stubbornness, but because it's unnecessary. Wilson Fisk will know who's behind the scenes, but not now."

"Then how do I explain the bodyguard's death?"

"You don't have to explain anything. Don't worry, if Wilson Fisk finds me, I'll just break his leg as a reward for his intelligence-gathering abilities."

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