The food arrived quickly; Su Ming didn't have much else here, but there was plenty of instant noodles and instant hotpot.
Hel didn't need food, so she noticed that Deathstroke seemed distracted while eating.
Although he continued to talk and engage with everyone, his mind was clearly elsewhere.
"What are you thinking about?" She leaned on the couch with crossed arms, uninterested in the fact that Gin was glaring at her as if she were a criminal.
Su Ming slurped up the noodles, feeling the wound on his chest being gnawed and crawled over as if by countless ants, while he chewed his food.
"Nothing much, next I'm off to find Atlan. Who's leaving, and who's coming with me?"
The orange light of the office's lamp made everything appear warm, with the furniture softly aglow.
Palham was the first to respond, saying he could transform as long as it was before dawn, but if it was already daytime in Atlan, there would be nothing he could do.
Hel didn't even need to think, she already had a plan: "I'm going with you; it's just a city, and destroying it would be just as easy."
All eyes turned to Satanah, who was nibbling on a mushroom from the hotpot: "Do what you promised me first, and we can talk after."
"Hamill, contact Secret Guest." Su Ming, not one to procrastinate, immediately gave the order.
Soon, a mass of purple tentacles appeared with a glow in a corner of the office, and Secret Guest, with golden hair draped over heavy armor, walked out as if emerging from a dense forest.
She saw the others and raised an eyebrow: "Is today a Hell-themed gathering? If I'd known, I'd have brought a real hotpot."
"Are you Secret Guest? You're so pretty, come sit here." Satanah scooted over, patting the empty spot beside her.
But Secret Guest ignored her and grabbed utensils, seating herself beside Su Ming.
"Secret Guest, she's Satanah, a Lord of Hell." Su Ming slurped his noodles, and Gin handed him a freshly made cup of noodles: "Satanah, this is Secret Guest, Lord of the Hell Border, Second-Dimensional Supreme Mage, my student."
The title of Deathstroke's student made Satanah's teeth ache.
However, she didn't show it. Instead, she warmly leaned in, smiling broadly: "You're really strong. Those male Lords of Hell are always so combative; we women need to stick together. Visit me anytime."
Secret Guest just smiled silently, nodding slightly.
She knew that all Lords of Hell, regardless of gender, were the same—interested only in profit.
Regarding lies and deceptions, her teacher had already taught her well; she didn't believe a word Satanah said.
"Secret Guest, later you'll help Satanah with her Hell's tentacle problem. That's part of my deal with her, but don't do anything extra. Understood?"
"Understood, teacher."
"Good, you can all leave now. For this task, Hel and I suffice." Su Ming gave the order to leave.
Hamill opened the teleportation gate to help Palham retrieve his mount, turning to Su Ming for confirmation: "Should I go?"
"No need, Atlan has everything except warlocks."
Hamill nodded, then left.
Without needing magical confrontation, a warlock can sometimes be a burden.
Satanah was somewhat reluctant, as she wanted to continue assisting in exchange for Main World's residence rights, but Deathstroke clearly had no such intention, so she had to leave and look for another opportunity later.
In the meantime, she'd need to find a proxy for her brothel—a fool she could tempt into taking the job....
The office quickly fell silent, leaving only Su Ming, Hel, and Gin. The smell of hotpot and instant noodles filled the room, as Gin moved to the window to ventilate the air.
The cold night breeze swept away the warmth, and Su Ming tossed his empty bowl onto the coffee table.
"Gin, later on, we're heading to the New York Temple, then you're off to the London Temple to contact the Master of Mischief to keep an eye on mutant activities for me."
"Master of Mischief?" Gin's expression was a bit odd.
"Yup, I don't know his name either, but he's quite mischievous, so be careful." Su Ming patted his chest; his bones and organs were fine now: "Let's go."
............
After parting ways with Gin, Su Ming and Hel's first stop was Kama Taiji. Among the snow-covered mountains, Hel stood in the courtyard, patting her shoulders.
"What are you trying to tell me?" she asked.
"What you want to know from me—this is the answer." Su Ming pushed open the meditation room door, gesturing for her to enter.
"You know what I want?" She gracefully entered the room, observing the decor.
"You've made it clear with Satanah. You're testing my stance, right? Besides you two, I bet all the other Lords of Hell will do the same, testing my attitude, my strength, or something else."
Su Ming patted the sleeping Monac on the floor; the guy had eaten too much.
"Do you intend to show through your actions that you bear me no ill will?" Hel moved to the side of the tea table. No matter how she positioned her legs, it felt uncomfortable, so she finally knelt down.
"Indeed, I don't. After all, you live in the Main Dimension, your duty resides in the Netherworld, unlike other Lords of Hell." Su Ming sat across from her, as Monac awoke, still rubbing his eyes, "So you don't need to be too close to Satanah."
"She poses no threat to me." Hel's eyes narrowed.
"Indeed she's not, her means are immature, her objectives obvious... But, the Basilisk within her could replace her main persona at any time. If you don't want to risk getting your head bitten off while sleeping next to her, it's best to keep your distance."
Su Ming placed the kettle on a small stove beside him, watching the flames lick the metal.
"Is this a transaction?"
"You could think of it that way."
"Are you worried about me?"
"No, I am merely worried about the future."
Hel said nothing more as her gaze fell on the kettle. Steam gradually rose from its spout, forming a stark contrast with the cold wind seeping in from outside the door.
She nodded, "Understood. After this time, we owe each other nothing."
"What? What are you talking about?" Monac listened in a daze from the side, feeling like he'd missed a lot, "Who is this...?"
"Hel, the Lord of the Hell Border of Helheim, Goddess of the Netherworld." Su Ming looked at the kettle.
"What? How could you think of bringing a Lord of Hell to Kama Taiji?" Monac was shocked, quickly becoming battle-ready.
Su Ming gestured for him to relax, "Don't mind it. Hel already lives in the Main Dimension, one of the Nine Realms, and the Three Great Temples, as well as Kama Taiji, are designed to defend against Outer Dimension invasions, not her."
"But she might trade the information here with other Lords of Hell." Monac still frowned, deeply uneasy about this.
"A barrier alone can't stop everyone forever. I am the key to defense." Su Ming said calmly, exuding confidence, "Lay down your weapon."
Even before, without the Defense Array or the Ancient One, this wall would have long been breached. It's the same now. Defensive fortifications are always passive; the crucial factor is the people relying on trench defense. People are the most important.
Su Ming's methods differ from the Ancient One's, which is why Monac feels uncomfortable; understandable.
After pondering Su Ming's words, Monac slowly lowered the short staff in his hand. He tidied his hair and beard, nodding politely to Hel.
"Apologies, madam, I wasn't addressing you personally, but the identity of a Lord of Hell is too sensitive."
In truth, a true lady should extend her hand, allowing the gentleman to kiss the back of it in forgiveness, after which they could chat about the weather or perhaps dance.
However, Hel's head turned slowly to the side like a puppet; she did not even deign to notice Monac. The doubts of an ant were entirely beneath her notice.
Feeling somewhat awkward, Monac rubbed his hands and sighed. To break the tension, he turned to Deathstroke.
"What did you come back for?"
"To contact Namor. You were once comrades; I need you to ask him something for me." The water was about to boil, and Su Ming could hear the bubbling even through the kettle.
Monac clicked his tongue and took out some beard wax, dabbed a bit with his thumb, and slowly smoothed his beard, "Namor... he's not very sociable, hardly close to any of us. Should Captain America intervene?"
"Steve should have returned to SSR by now. He, Peggy, and Fury are oblivious to this; the Magic Realm needs to keep it secret from them."
Su Ming declined the suggestion, as even Holloway knew very little about this. Let Steve continue his romance.
Without Su Ming's intelligence, SSR couldn't find anything. They only had blood samples, as the body was gone, which wasn't enough evidence.
Just like before, Vampires remain creatures of stories, and the Colonel's disappearance alone is enough to drive them to distraction.
With so many spies from other factions within SSR, achieving success? Heh.
Monac grudgingly tugged at his collar, "Alright, alright, I'll try contacting him. To be honest, talking with him gives me the creeps."
Su Ming knew as well that King Namor was much more challenging to deal with than King Arthur. The former had a contrary personality and was a megalomaniac with a strong revenge instinct. If someone polluted the seawater, it was as grave as if his mother had been killed.
Given the choice, Su Ming wouldn't want to deal with Namor either, but this was the only Atlantean he knew.
Monac's Black Magic possessed capabilities that standard magic did not. He dashed out of the room and quickly returned with a basin of water.
Then, under Hel's puzzled gaze, he began killing rabbits continuously.
One by one, the fluffy corpses were tossed to the ground. Their crimson eyes expressed restless unease, seemingly filled with questions and terror over why they had to die.
Yet Monac, heart brimming with sorrow, danced around the water basin wildly. He needed to communicate with the elements to converse with the sea, which was the Shaman Path.
Hel watched his dance with interest, considering using inner sorrow to replace the casting cost a genius idea, though it seemed inevitable that such a method would eventually lead to madness, no?
Painful memories aren't forgotten but etched into the depths of the soul, and these hidden emotions would one day kill this mage...