Multiverse: Deathstroke
Chapter 230: Ch.229 Finding the Target

Chapter 230: Ch.229 Finding the Target

After Su Ming described the situation involving Namor, the Magic Prince, Monarch, fell into a brief period of contemplation. The room was filled only with the ticking sound of an old pendulum clock and the rustling noises of rabbits eating in the other rooms.

Outside, London was drowned in a curtain of rain.

"So, you're saying the King of Atlantis is missing, and it could cause significant disruptions in the timeline? Did the Sorcerer Supreme tell you this?"

His first thought went to the Eye of Agamotto, the gem capable of observing endless timelines and possibilities, identifying risks and preparing countermeasures.

Su Ming couldn't reveal that he'd figured out things were deviating from the comic book storyline. That was a secret he had to take to the grave. "Yes, that's right," he replied.

"Alright then, I'll give it a try. Do you have anything that belongs to him? Hair, fingernails, or something personal?" Monarch asked, pulling out a pitch-black stone that looked like a lump of coal.

"No... I only know his name. Does that help?"

Monarch's smile didn't waver, but he shook his head slightly and sighed. "Magic isn't omnipotent. Without something related to him, the ritual won't proceed smoothly. I could conduct some operations to locate all the people with that name, but that would result in tens of thousands of matches."

Su Ming leaned forward on the sofa, his mind racing. "But among all those Namors, only one would have a strong connection to the ocean, right?"

Monarch paused, his eyes shifting thoughtfully. "You're right. Among the Atlanteans, there might only be one Namor. Give me a moment."

He took off his top hat and pulled out a rabbit from inside, speaking to it in a strange, incomprehensible language.

"Fwoop, fwoop fwoop."

"Fwoop!"

The rabbit darted off, disappearing into a small door in the wall. Moments later, it returned, carrying a cup of seawater.

Monarch patted the rabbit on the head, and its soft white fur slipped between his fingers as it gazed at him with sparkling eyes, seemingly happy.

Then, with a sudden motion, he snapped the rabbit's neck.

Tears flowed from his tightly shut eyes, and his shoulders shook as he wept.

"Apologies... It's the cost of magic. I just teleported it to Bermuda and brought it back. That was a locator spell. I still need to perform a divination spell next, but... let's not dwell on that."

Su Ming didn't know what to say, so he just nodded, allowing Monarch to proceed. He could understand the pain of having to kill something you've raised as your own child, though in reality, it was just a rabbit.

Killing didn't faze Su Ming—let alone the death of a rabbit. Expecting him to feel bad about it was out of the question.

But Monarch had deeply hypnotized himself, seeing something entirely different from what Su Ming saw. To Monarch, he had just killed someone—a child, even. Though his rational mind knew it was just a rabbit, his emotions were deeply affected.

So, Su Ming gave him a few minutes to collect himself.

After a brief moment, Monarch resumed the magic. He dipped his fingers into the cup of seawater and sprinkled a few drops onto the black stone, arranging various animal remains around it, such as frog legs and bat wings.

Then he began chanting a series of spells in that same strange language, his hands moving in intricate patterns.

A purple-black image of the Earth slowly emerged from the stone, a holographic projection formed by light, but it carried a sinister aura, like a magical version of a spectral hologram.

The temperature in the room dropped by a few degrees. The power of black magic always left a chilling impression.

But the spell was working. The dark globe began lighting up with numerous small, glowing points, like fireflies in the night.

"The good news is, I've found the person you're looking for," Monarch said, sweat dripping from his forehead as he struggled to maintain the spell. "The bad news is... he's everywhere."

"You mean he's been dismembered?" Su Ming raised an eyebrow. If Namor was dead and the Ancient One wasn't dealing with worldly matters, there would be no one to stop U-Man.

"No, not exactly," Monarch responded, eyes on the floating lights. "Some of these may be false leads. It could be other Atlanteans with the same name, other mages interfering with my magic, or it could be that the person you're looking for has had their soul and body separated by magic." He dismissed the spell, wiping sweat from his brow and taking a sip of whiskey. "But they're all alive. This spell only locates the living."

Su Ming mentally cataloged all the places where Namor might be, realizing this would be an international hunt. He needed to think carefully.

"Magic can separate someone's body and keep them alive?" Holloway asked, his worldview clearly being shaken.

As a surgeon, he knew that without certain body parts, people could die from blood loss. Hearing about piecing someone back together like a puzzle was a tough concept to swallow.

"Yes, magic can do that. There are many spells capable of such things," Monarch replied calmly. Sorcerers had done it more than once.

Holloway stroked his mustache thoughtfully, recalling something from his childhood. "I once saw a talking head at a circus when I was a kid. It was in a glass jar. I thought it was fake, some kind of trick with someone hiding under the counter."

Monarch raised his glass and clinked it with theirs. He was feeling a bit down and needed some alcohol for comfort. "Some of those are fake, but many of the heads in Gypsy circuses are real. Their practitioners, often called witches, sometimes lose track of their own collections—especially heads."

"Haha, sounds like a Celtic tradition," Holloway said, sipping his drink and shrugging. He realized the magical world had retained a lot of barbaric customs.

The ancient Celts had a habit of collecting their enemies' heads. They would go into battle wearing nothing but a necklace for armor, their naked bodies painted with woad, and charge at their foes with wild cries.

But when they returned home, they would bring back the severed heads of their enemies, preserved in lime, and present them to their wives as gifts. The more heads one brought back, the more revered they became.

The wives would even compare whose husband had the most heads, much like people today compared luxury bags and high heels.

According to their legends, if you were a true warrior and decapitated your enemy quickly enough with a flame-shaped sword, the severed head would remain alive and become a talking head.

These talking heads were said to serve many purposes. Back then, they were primarily used to forecast the weather. They could supposedly predict storms or how long a drought would last.

If, in those days, you owned a talking head and brought it home to your wife, you would become a local celebrity, as esteemed as a dragon-slaying hero.

You could become the village chief, absorb neighboring villages, and command hundreds of people, rising to the pinnacle of success.

Monarch shrugged. What Holloway saw as legends and stories were not uncommon in the magical world. Celtic tales were real, but instead of forecasting the weather, those talking heads were more likely to curse it.

"So, all the possibilities we discussed are on the table," Monarch said.

While Holloway and Monarch chatted, Su Ming quickly sketched out a map in his mind, a world map with potential Namor locations marked accurately.

"Alright, let's replace this guy. If he's a wrong-name sea dweller, we'll toss him back into the ocean. If enemies are interfering, we'll kill the enemies. If Namor's in pieces, we'll put him back together and make sure he stays far from land."

Monarch didn't object. He'd been ready since receiving the message from the Ancient One. "I thought you were looking for a friend."

Su Ming shook his head and stood up, donning his helmet. The symbiote spread across his face, making his voice even deeper and more menacing.

"Trust me, no normal human would want to be friends with Namor. He hates humans. After all this, he'll probably hate them even more."

In truth, Su Ming was already considering whether it might be easier to replace Namor's pieces and destroy them, but he knew that could lead to uncontrollable consequences in the future, so he dismissed the idea.

The best plan was to return Namor to the ocean and ensure he kept his people in line, avoiding trouble for now.

As long as U-Man lived, Namor couldn't die either. His bloodline and rule still had value.

Namor had a weakness—Atlantis came above everything else in his heart. One day, when Su Ming had the power to threaten all the Atlanteans, Namor would no longer be able to flaunt his authority.

For now, though, Su Ming would play the role of the good guy.