Because all the Immortal City's weaponry was built following Solomon's philosophy of overcoming the fear of insufficient explosive yield, some of the armaments were simply impossible to evaluate properly until test-detonated. As a result, the real effects of using them couldn't be predicted beforehand. Solomon was already planning to move the missile and bomb testing grounds to Mars after this, in order to avoid tactical miscalculations stemming from misunderstandings of their destructive capacity. The moment the bunker-buster detonated, he realized something was wrong—the blast radius was simply too large.
To atone for his mistake, Solomon had no choice but to take out the Silver Key and, in an extremely short span of time, cast several spells capable of shielding the industrial and residential areas that were never supposed to be affected. These could be thought of as massively expanded versions of "Protection from Fire" and "Protection from Sonic Damage" spells. That was also why Scott Lang had been able to see that silent shockwave.
"I think I broke every window within miles. Not even the most mischievous little brat has smashed that much glass in their lifetime," Solomon joked, though it wasn't funny. He had kept his eyes on the explosion site the entire time, and the smoke rising endlessly from what used to be Pym Technologies had drastically lowered visibility across the city. Hope van Dyne was certain that not even Dr. Pym's personally designed "Cold Storage" facility could have withstood that kind of attack. But the explosion's effects extended far beyond that. Gangs in the city used the chaos as an opportunity to loot; emergency hotlines were instantly overwhelmed; people wandered the streets in panic; social media exploded with speculation about a terrorist attack. Hyena-like media outlets were already preparing their news helicopters, eager to snag an exclusive.
The chaos spread across the entire city like an echo of the blast's shockwave. As the man who caused it, Solomon couldn't help but sigh.
"I'll allocate you a fund to handle the compensation for the surrounding areas. I think that'll be good for Pym Technologies, don't you think?"
"I'll take care of it," Hope said, her voice trembling.
"The National Guard is needed to maintain order now, but I can't say for sure when they'll arrive. After all, when New York was invaded by aliens, the National Guard was stuck outside the city. The police firepower might not even be as strong as the gangs'. I remember those guys had rocket launchers," the arcanist said dryly. The situation now was similar to the Battle of New York—highways were certainly jammed, with people trying to get out of the city and others trying to get in. "Maybe, Scott, you could put on your suit and go out to help the police maintain order. Do what superheroes are supposed to do."
"What about you?" Scott shot back.
"I'll help too, but not in the way you're thinking." Solomon sighed again. The explosion hadn't caused casualties, but the aftermath was violent enough to trigger a massacre. People were already dying in the streets—some simply because they panicked during a robbery and failed to hand over their wallets fast enough. He was thoroughly disillusioned with America's local law enforcement. Despite all his efforts to prevent the bunker-buster from leveling the entire city, people still died—he could hear their souls wailing. No matter what, that blood was on his hands. "I'll head to the worst slums, where the gangs and illegal firearms are concentrated. I'll put everyone to sleep, lock down the area, and put an end to the violence. As long as no one wakes them up, they'll enjoy a nice, peaceful nap."
"Those are mostly Black and Middle Eastern immigrants. You know someone's going to accuse you of racial discrimination, right?"
Solomon leapt onto the railing and drew two silver longswords engraved with intricate vine patterns, startling everyone nearby. His expression was solemn, his gaze fixed on the chaos below.
"So what? Do you think I do persuasion with my mouth? Do you think these swords care about Black people, gay people, transgender people, or Middle Eastern immigrants? These swords aren't elected officials. They don't discriminate. Call me later." Without hesitation, he jumped straight off the rooftop. Scott Lang rushed over to look, only to see a flash of light blink through the air—and then Solomon was gone.
"Cool! What kind of superpower is that? I want to learn that trick!"
Hope felt her scalp tingle. She could already foresee the mountain of problems awaiting her.
Pym Technologies would definitely have to shoulder the blame, because the explosion occurred on their grounds. Everyone would think it was an experimental accident. Unless she could provide hard proof of an airstrike—which was nearly impossible, since she had evacuated all the employees—it would look like Pym Technologies had staged the whole thing themselves. All she could hope for now was that Solomon's fund would be large enough to establish a foundation, enough to appease all the various stakeholders. A wave of frustration overwhelmed her. Hope stomped her foot in anger, then gasped in pain. Leaning against the balcony railing, she shouted to Scott Lang, "Idiot! Come over here and help me! I think I twisted my ankle!"
Solomon walked through the decaying streets.
This was the slums of a major city. Though it didn't have the makeshift shanties of South American barrios, the peeling walls of abandoned buildings, trash-littered lawns, and constant threat of gun violence had long since driven away the wealthy. Violent crimes happened here in broad daylight. Normally, Solomon wouldn't care about such things, but as the explosion from Pym Technologies spread chaos, the gangs had returned to their old ways. To make up for his mistake, Solomon walked into communities that even police wouldn't enter, wielding his longsword and shortsword, ready to stop any potential acts of violence.
He didn't issue warnings. Anyone who dared draw a gun in front of him was attacked on the spot.
"Ola, that's the place." He gave instructions to the heavy weapons squad commander from the Sisterhood assigned to protect him. She was to handle the gang vehicles. Against plasma clusters as hot as solar flares and tungsten-cored self-propelled munitions, even light armored vehicles were no match—let alone regular cars and wooden buildings. After he and Ola cleared one neighborhood and ensured there was no chance of violent conflict breaking out, he cast a spell that put everyone in the area into a deep sleep.
Only then did he move on to the next neighborhood. The process took him all afternoon. He originally thought he would have to repeat the same steps over and over. But after dealing with two neighborhoods in succession, the armed gang members in the third dropped their weapons and lay on the ground without hesitation upon seeing him.
A rumor had already spread: "A remorseless, heavily armed vigilante is in the area." If it were the police, gang members might still resist, knowing the complications that come with police killing Black suspects. But this time, they faced a butcher. Butchers don't argue. They kill. No one dared resist. The carnage and blood Solomon left behind was proof enough. Even the major gangs stayed quiet—they were already terrified by Ola's heavy weapons team. Only the most drug-addled fools dared to resist, and they became the arcanist's warning to the rest of the neighborhood.
No one called the police. Everyone here knew it was useless—no cops would come to maintain order. Even if the National Guard made it through the jammed highways and into the city, they wouldn't come here to help.
The arcanist stepped on the barrel of an assault rifle, crushing it flat, and walked on without acknowledging the trembling thug lying on the ground, drenched in cold sweat. In just half an afternoon, he had resolved a problem that had plagued this city for over a decade. The most chaotic areas had suddenly become the most orderly. Every household had thrown out their guns and bullets, as Solomon demanded.
"If the Avengers saw what I just did, they might come and fight me," Solomon murmured, shaking his head as he removed the steel ring floating above his head, glittering with a magical glow. This was the magical item known as the Ring of Intimidation. It radiated an aura that influenced the mind. Solomon had used it to make those with weak willpower submit, so he wouldn't have to stain his hands with any more unnecessary blood.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Enjoying the story? Support the author and get early access to chapters by joining my Patre@n!Find me at: patre@n*com/Mutter
You can read each novel for $5 or get them all for just $15.
I Am Zeus, KING OF GODS (Chapter 79)
Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 391)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 471)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 677)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 1059)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1418)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1422)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1452)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1504)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld!(Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 703)
[+50 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter][+5 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter]