Chapter 381: The Madwoman

"Master, do I still need to take the apprentices to the ethereal plane?" Solomon arrived at Kamar-Taj while having breakfast. He had made an effort to wake up early because he had run out of his alchemical potions the night before. Without access to the chemistry lab at Eton College, he had to rely on the labs at Kamar-Taj and Bayonetta's apartment. But using the one in the apartment today was out of the question; otherwise, Bayonetta might drag him back to the bedroom, leaving him unable to work for the rest of the day.

Treading carefully, he stepped over the gray short-haired cat and the German shepherd snoozing on the carpet. Grabbing the phoenix perched atop a cabinet, he tucked the creature under his arm, and slid the Pegasus statuette into his pocket. Without disturbing anyone, he opened a portal and slipped away.

This explained why he arrived in the Himalayan mountains wearing only his pajamas, holding his gear in his hands.

"Why aren't you busy making babies with that witch? What brings you here?" The Ancient One gave Solomon a sidelong glance before sipping her tea. "Since you're here, you can do me a favor. Go pick up some roast goose. And don't let Mordo see you; he already thinks I have high blood pressure. Oh, and grab the beer from Kaecilius's fridge while you're at it."

"Master—"

"Why the rush?" The Ancient One frowned. "The evaluations are over, and the apprentices are ready for one-on-one instruction. I'm assigning them mentors right now. Mordo and Kaecilius are already occupied—do you want to take one on yourself?"

"I'm busy enough as it is," Solomon replied. "I just want to confirm that I have no tasks here today. Right?"

Having ruled out potential duties, Solomon made his way to Athena's residence. Morning was her training time, and she was dressed in a white linen battle dress. Solomon barely avoided getting a spear thrust to his nose as he stepped through the portal.

"A man shouldn't refuse a lady's request," Athena said as her spear whooshed past Solomon's neck. She seemed to know exactly what had happened to him earlier, especially when she noticed his pale face.

She tossed him a spear and demanded he spar with her. "Like the warriors of the Amazon," she said, her sweat glistening in the morning sunlight. "Training might cause injuries. If you're not up for it, you may as well crawl back into bed."

"You're far stricter than most mothers," Solomon muttered. He was well-acquainted with these sparring sessions. Once, he had hesitated to strike, worried about hurting Athena, only for her to pummel him with her spear's shaft, calling his restraint an insult.

That had been when Solomon was thirteen, and Athena hadn't held back in the slightest.

Even now, she wasn't going easy on him. Their clash of spears was too fast for ordinary people to follow, the sharp clang of metal filling the air. Over the years, Solomon had improved enough to keep pace with Athena, no longer losing within ten seconds or being disarmed by her with the shaft alone.

After their morning training, Solomon bid her farewell, receiving a sticky kiss on his sweaty cheek and a lukewarm pastry for the road. Athena dismissed him impatiently, annoyed that he'd forgotten to bring a gift and citing her own pressing commitments—an art salon and orphanage sponsorships, if only to keep the tax authorities at bay.

"I must've been out of my mind to agree to this deal," Solomon muttered as he dragged a long-haired woman in a hospital gown through the asylum's corridors. "If it hadn't told me you were flooding the air vents with halothane, I might've fallen for it."

"Doesn't that excite you?" The woman, who called herself Root, walked alongside him nonchalantly, earbuds in her ears. "She told me she can't understand you. You're the only person she can't figure out. She doesn't even know where to start."

Root's voice was detached, almost dreamlike, as if she were lost in a cocaine-induced haze. She clutched a pistol she had swiped from a guard's holster. Most people would've considered it unwise to let someone so unstable handle a gun, but Solomon seemed unbothered.

"Next time, tell your machine to be more discreet when badmouthing someone behind their back," Solomon said, guiding Root past unconscious staff and patients. "I don't know if it's told you this, but you're not just being watched by Homeland Security. There's another organization—one deeply entrenched in the U.S. government—that knows about the machine. You're their target. If it weren't for this, the machine would've had you escape on your own."

"Hydra," Root said with a smirk. "I thought they were wiped out. Hearing their name again feels like a history lesson. Kind of like when S.H.I.E.L.D. dug up Captain America. What did you do? She said those guys are already at the parking lot."

"My advice? Don't engage them. Honestly, I have a personal reason for that—their boss has been wanting to have a chat with me," Solomon said, pulling Root aside. "Avoidance may be cowardly, but it works. I prefer not to deal with mundane authorities. I had them circle the stairwell a few times. Oh, hi there."

He waved at a terrified psychiatrist, whom Root had exposed for academic fraud and patient abuse. The man fled immediately.

Turning back to Root, Solomon said, "My deal with the machine is to ensure your safety, by any means necessary. Killing those people isn't part of it, nor do I have any major grudge against them."

"You're so kind," Root laughed. "They're practically babies—armed babies. How do you know they won't shoot?"

"Dumbness Curse always works."

Gunfire echoed through the empty corridor. Solomon shrugged. "You think I went to Hogwarts? I'm not overly compassionate. Besides, you can't expect too much from people who still wet their pants. Now, hold on to me."

"Are we Apparating?"

"Close enough. But I promise this method is far safer."

"You never told me you had a dungeon," Root said as she gazed at the underground city illuminated by dim lights. High above were jagged stalactites, and in the midst of a dark wasteland stood clusters of glowing buildings.

"Welcome to the Immortal City," Solomon said. "At least, that's what it used to be called. Come, your god is waiting for you."

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