Cosmic Demon Totem Common Prosperity Project (Part 2)

Although autumn had arrived, New York afternoons were still somewhat hot. A can tab clicked, followed by a hiss. Peter looked up, took a gulp of cold cola, and let out a satisfied, "Ah…"

"Finished? Then finish polishing this part."

"Oh, coming."

Peter set the cola on the table in the prep room, put his lab coat back on, and returned to the workbench. He looked around, then quietly asked Dr. Connors, "Will this really work? I don’t think we can hide it from Mr. Stark. This is Stark Tower’s laboratory."

Schiller, who was sitting in the prep room, said to Peter, "It seems you didn’t take in a single word of those psychology theories I taught you."

Peter scratched his head and asked, "I just didn’t remember much… But what does that have to do with us running an experiment behind Mr. Stark’s back?"

"I’m certain Stark won’t use surveillance equipment to monitor this laboratory. He’s a very proud man, so when he knows Dr. Connors holds several patented biotech technologies, he won’t resort to anything resembling peeking."

"His pride means he won’t do anything even remotely connected to ‘stealing knowledge.’ Even if there’s only the slightest risk, he’ll avoid it whenever possible."

"Stark is like a proud bird. His intelligence is the beautiful plumage he takes the most pride in. He’ll avoid anything that might dirty those feathers, even if it could bring him more food."

Connors added, "That’s why he’s more of a scientist than a businessman."

Peter nodded to show that he understood. He glanced at the clock on the wall and said, "Sorry, Doctor, but I have to leave in an hour. Some friends are waiting for me."

Connors looked up at Schiller and asked, "When is Strange coming?"

Just as Schiller pulled out his phone to call Strange, a red slit suddenly appeared in the center of the laboratory. It expanded into a red circle, and Strange stepped out carrying a Crystal Ball.

"Whew…" He let out a long breath and said, "You have no idea what I just went through. God! I never imagined sorcerers had to do this kind of work!"

"Tell us about your miraculous adventure." Schiller glanced out the window. It was still early.

Peter stared at Strange with a curious expression. Strange carefully set the Crystal Ball down on the table, took another deep breath, and began his tale.

It still had to begin at Kamar-Taj.

After becoming an apprentice sorcerer at Kamar-Taj, Strange began his long journey of studying magic.

Strange had decent talent and learned quickly. Before long, he had found his footing and could use some minor spells quite well.

At the same time, through his frequent trips around Kamar-Taj, he gained a deeper understanding of the relationships there. Aside from the Sorcerer Supreme, The Ancient One, and Kamar-Taj’s chief steward, Wong, he had also met someone else: The Ancient One’s eldest disciple, Baron Mordo.

Strange felt that the person at Kamar-Taj he got along with least was this senior brother of his. Everything Mordo did reminded him that he was an outsider, a self-taught novice who had joined halfway through.

Because Baron Mordo was simply too much like a sorcerer—more so than even The Ancient One.

He was silent, solemn, mysterious. Every word he spoke carried an obscure meaning that ordinary people could hardly understand. Not only was his magical ability powerful, but even the way he cast spells was exactly what one imagined from a traditional sorcerer.

Whenever Mordo used magic, he floated in midair, his robes drifting faintly as mysterious motes of light swirled around him. He recited a string of cryptic incantations, then moved as he pleased with effortless grace.

By comparison, Strange’s spellcasting was far less elegant. Being wrapped into a dumpling by disobedient Crimson Bands of Cyttorak, having a portal vanish halfway through opening, losing control of the Seven Rings of the Vishanti and sending them flying all over the sky—such things were commonplace.

More importantly, Strange did not know much about mysticism or philosophy. He simply could not speak as eloquently as Mordo, opening his mouth to discuss the true meaning of life, the pursuit of tranquility, the source of power, and things like that.

Whenever he heard The Ancient One and Baron Mordo conversing, Strange felt that she must have been very impatient whenever she spoke with him. Strange lacked both extensive Magic Theory knowledge and any understanding of obscure, niche mystical tales.

The keywords in Baron Mordo and The Ancient One’s conversations were things like the universe, truth, and origins. Meanwhile, the topics Strange discussed with The Ancient One were usually loans, interest rates, and spreads.

The former sounded like a lecture in a Holy Hall of magic, while the latter sounded like a bank sales call.

If Strange and Baron Mordo merely had nothing to talk about, that would have been one thing. But because of the financial fraud scheme Strange had introduced to The Ancient One, the two of them often traveled between Asgard and several other dimensions to prepare for the entire plan.

During this period, The Ancient One took Strange around the world while leaving her eldest disciple, Mordo, behind at Kamar-Taj.

As the Sorcerer Supreme’s only disciple for many years, Mordo had long considered himself the heir to both the Sorcerer Supreme and Kamar-Taj. Now, seeing this junior brother who was completely incompatible with magic gain such favor from The Ancient One, he naturally had thoughts about it.

What shocked Mordo most was that The Ancient One actually asked him to contact Dormammu.

At Kamar-Taj, most magic used was white magic, derived from Hoggs or Demon Gods from other Order realms. Black magic was absolutely forbidden.

But because the definition of magic was rather vague, most sorcerers did not use only white magic. Take Cyttorak’s Crimson Bands, for example. The power from the Crimson Dimension was not violent, and many novice sorcerers used his magic as well, but Cyttorak was clearly not a Demon God of Order.

Therefore, some sorcerers who considered themselves powerful did use the strength of Dark Gods. Both The Ancient One and Baron Mordo knew this.

The Ancient One turned a blind eye to it. As long as the sorcerers could control that power, the Sorcerer Supreme would not pursue the matter.

But not pursuing it and openly putting contact with Dark Gods on the table were entirely different things.

Many sorcerers at Kamar-Taj were speculating about what The Ancient One intended to do. Of course, they did not think the Sorcerer Supreme would collude with outside enemies. They merely suspected that she had finally found a way to kill Dormammu and wanted to lure him in to slaughter him.

Mordo was even more uneasy, because his connection to Dormammu ran far deeper than The Ancient One knew.

Mordo’s research into black magic was extremely thorough, and he was confident that The Ancient One had not discovered any of it. Yet one day, she suddenly told him, "Go contact Dormammu, the Lord of the Dark Dimension—the darkest, most chaotic place around Earth, always plotting to invade it!"

How could Mordo not feel nervous?

Had my private contact with the Dark Dimension’s Demon Gods been discovered? Was The Ancient One warning me? Or had she really found a way to turn Dormammu into dumpling filling? What was I supposed to do?

As mentioned before, Mordo had one defining trait: he was a very traditional sorcerer. Put simply, he truly believed in magic.

At that moment, an idea gradually formed in Mordo’s heart. After he returned from the Dark Dimension, no one knew what he and Dormammu had discussed.

Not long afterward, Strange also met Dormammu. Not only Dormammu, but Cyttorak, Lord of the Crimson Dimension, the famous Mephisto, ruler of Hell, and a whole host of renowned Cosmic Demons whose names alone could frighten people senseless—he met them all.

They met at Asgard Palace in Asgard. The meeting was presided over by Odin, the All-Father, and initiated by The Ancient One, Earth’s Sorcerer Supreme. Standing beside The Ancient One was Strange, whose legs had nearly gone weak at the sight of all those big shots.

Under The Ancient One’s relentless phone harassment, that luxurious lineup had finally assembled. Strange had never dreamed that he would have to give a speech before people whose slightest stomp could make the universe tremble.

Strange regretted it. He regretted it deeply.

When he stood in the center of Asgard Palace, a mass of roiling black mist was on his right. Within it stood a vague human-shaped figure radiating endless darkness, suffocating to behold.

On his left was a massive red vortex. Beyond it, he could see a boundless world, and atop that world sat an even more colossal monster whose gaze alone could devour everything.

Before Strange burned the fires of Hell. A staircase covered in corpses led to a towering throne, where a blurry demon sat and watched the mortal world from Hell.

Beside those three great figures stood many other grotesque monsters, so terrifying that one glance could drive a person mad with fear.

Strange stood in the middle of that crowd of demons and monsters, feeling certain that he had boarded a pirate ship.

But things had reached this point. It was no longer up to Strange whether he wanted to speak or not. He could only grit his teeth, stomp his foot, and force himself to present that immoral, shameless plan.

Strange, recounting this experience in the laboratory, looked exhausted. He said, "…I was only halfway through when that demon stepped down from his throne. He appeared directly above my head. Can you believe that?"

"An entire sea of Hellfire appeared over my head. I could even hear the souls inside screaming…"

Looking utterly dead inside, Strange said, "Then the Demon God named Setar’ak stuck his head out of the vortex. Do you know how terrifying that was?! One of his whiskers was bigger than my entire body!"

"I can’t even describe what those things were." Strange pressed a hand to his forehead. "After that experience, I don’t think there’s anything left in this world that I could be afraid of."

"So, how did the negotiations go in the end?"

"After I finished speaking, I returned to my teacher’s side. Until they started discussing things back and forth, the atmosphere was still pretty terrifying."

"And then?" Connors asked curiously as well.

"Then…" Strange wore a strange expression. "They started arguing, and it got worse and worse. Odin had to start breaking it up."

"At first, they were still reasoning with each other. Later, it became a contest of who could shout louder. In the end, it became a contest of whose fists were bigger."

"You mean they got into a fight?"

"God King Odin had originally intended to mediate, but apparently one Demon God insulted him. He struck down with a bolt of lightning, and within seconds, the sky above Asgard had turned into complete chaos…"

"In the end, most of the Demon Gods either fled or died. Only the stronger ones remained and sat down to continue talking."

"They actually continued talking?"

"The Sorcerer Supreme told me that this was how Demon God negotiations worked. Whenever they gathered together, they always had to fight first. Only those who survived could stay and negotiate."

Strange sighed and continued, "After they sat down again, I realized they hadn’t understood even a tenth of what I had said."

"They came up with a huge pile of questions. I answered as many as I could, but there were still plenty I couldn’t answer—especially Mephisto!"

Strange’s tone became somewhat angry. "He threw a pile of nonsense questions at me. When I couldn’t answer some of them, he actually called me ignorant! I’m a neurosurgeon, not a finance professional! How was I supposed to know how benchmark interest rates are calculated?"

"And the final result?" Schiller asked.

"Everyone who remained agreed to participate and paid a deposit. This is it." Strange picked up the Crystal Ball from the table. "It contains pure magical energy they provided, without any personal attributes. It can be used directly, and it doesn’t need to be repaid."

"But on the condition that we send some professionals to answer their enormous pile of questions."

"That’s easy. Tomorrow, I’ll have Nick find some finance professionals with trustworthy moral standards in prison."

"But we can’t exactly send those people to meet the Cosmic Demons, can we? They’ll be scared to death."

Schiller asked Strange, "Do you know there’s something called a telephone?"