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099 Continuous Pk Between Secret Agent And Wanda.
🕑 Added 2025-07-16 07:45:04 +0000 UTC“Ah?”
Wanda, who was only eighteen years old, looked shocked.
She didn’t understand why this Sorcerer Supreme was suddenly asking such a strange question. Was he asking her… to drive a truck?
Why a truck of all things?
Russell glanced at Wanda’s confused expression and shook his head.
“Forget it. I won’t ask S.H.I.E.L.D. for help.”
Although this timeline was already anchored, he wasn’t in a rush to head to the next world.
First, he’d acquired a lot of abilities in the past few days and needed time to familiarize himself with his new powers.
Second, Kamar-Taj’s magic books were genuinely worth studying.
Other than the legendary Cagliostro Library, Russell figured Kamar-Taj’s archives were probably the most complete in existence.
And it would be better to stabilize his soul, body, and mind before rushing into anything else.
After that, Russell followed the process like a proper sorcerer and began purifying Wanda’s mind.
Perhaps Chthon thought he had won and hadn’t bothered to leave a backup inside Wanda’s spiritual world.
But after a few days, Russell began noticing something strange.
Wanda’s eyes… were looking at him in a way that felt increasingly familiar.
He recognized that look!
It was similar to how the little wolf girl had looked at him in the beginning.
He wasn’t sure if Wanda was grateful to him for saving her life, admiring him, or simply attracted to his looks.
Regardless, Russell maintained his usual principle: don’t initiate, but never refuse.
So he decided to wait and let her come to him.
What he didn’t expect was that just when he thought Wanda might break and approach him... Magik appeared and slept with him instead, right after he’d helped cleanse her mind on the final day.
It was… sudden.
And honestly, she turned out to be the strongest opponent Russell had encountered so far.
Magik not only had powerful magical energy but could even transform into a demonic form.
Although Russell felt she looked more like a succubus after transformation.
Still, he had to admit—her physique post-transformation was insanely overpowered.
Although they weren’t exactly evenly matched… she could at least fight him for half the night.
Then, the next morning, she left as casually as a scumbag, vanishing back to the border of Hell.
Though, not to her old territory.
That woman had her own ambitions. She wanted to become a Lord of the Hell Border.
One day, she planned to overthrow Mephisto himself.
Russell had no intention of stopping her.
He wasn’t the type to force someone to stay just because she’d become his woman.
After all, wanting to grow stronger wasn’t a bad thing.
Especially in a universe like Marvel’s.
And it wasn’t like they wouldn’t meet again.
Magik’s unique X-gene ability was pretty special: she could teleport using her spiritual prison—essentially using the Hell Border as a transit hub. She could come back anytime she wanted.
Besides, this time, Russell had left a backup mark in her spiritual world.
He wasn’t worried about her trying mental parasitism.
And anyway, Hell wasn’t even Mephisto’s personal domain.
He was just one of many Lords of Hell.
According to Kamar-Taj’s records, there were more than a dozen dimension lords like Lucifer, Hades, and Torgue.
They all hated each other, each wanting to become Satan.
But none had succeeded.
On top of that, Hell itself wasn’t a singular realm; many hells overlapped in the dimensional web.
As for the Hell Border, it was a remote region, and with Russell’s spiritual backup in place, Magik wouldn’t be in much danger there.
Then, at midnight the next day...
Russell was still reading in the library when he saw the space warp open—forming a portal.
Magik came back again.
And spent another night with him.
The next morning, she left behind a pile of hell-forged magic obsidian and some rare, otherworldly metals.
Russell scratched his head.
He suddenly felt like he was… being kept.
But those materials were seriously good. With his God of Fire powers, he could forge a set of enchanted rune armor.
On the third night, Magik didn’t return.
Russell muttered to himself that the little succubus was pretty heartless… though he wasn’t surprised.
Judging from the magical materials she’d left behind yesterday, he knew she wouldn’t be back for a while.
But then… the unexpected happened.
When Russell teleported back to his room, he found Wanda lying on his bed with the blanket pulled over her head.
Hearing him return, Wanda spoke sullenly from under the quilt:
“You fulfilled Sister Mystique’s wish before she left... So now, before I go look for my brother in a few days…”
“I don’t want to leave with regrets.”
Russell wasn’t sure if it was because of his divine power purifying her mind, or just the combination of circumstances triggering her emotions.
But regardless… since one sheep had already wandered into the pen, why not let the second in as well?
It would be stupid to refuse.
Besides, he had to admit—when he’d been cleansing Wanda’s mind, he’d felt something between them.
He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t moved.
So tonight…
Was destined to be another sleepless night.
Half a month later.
Wanda left Kamar-Taj to find her brother.
Russell, meanwhile, went to S.H.I.E.L.D.
Nick Fury stood in his office, looking out the window in his usual brooding posture, maintaining his mysterious and commanding aura.
Then, through the window’s reflection, he saw a golden portal open behind him.
Instantly, that lofty, enigmatic vibe vanished.
Nick Fury turned around with a simple, honest smile, his posture slightly bent—not submissive, but respectful enough to avoid seeming rude.
“Sorcerer Supreme, you’re here.”
He didn’t ask why. He simply welcomed him calmly.
After all... that’s why he was the director.
Russell chuckled, sat down casually in a chair, and said, “You sit too. No need to be so tense.”
Nick Fury nodded and sat down, now looking like he was the guest instead of the host.
But there wasn’t much he could do.
Ever since Steve—that bastard—came back more than half a month ago and reported that Russell might actually be some sort of ‘God,’ Fury had been completely numb to surprises.
He’d specifically asked before: “Is there a God?”
And the answer had been “no.”
But now suddenly… God?
Sure, there must be some nuance, but considering even Captain America had stopped calling him a racial slur, you could imagine just how earth-shattering that revelation had been.
That icy old soldier never changed his ways lightly.
Fury had even asked six other agents, and they’d all acted like they’d witnessed a literal miracle.
So, he figured… showing a little humility was the smart move. Just in case Heaven turned out to be real.
Russell didn’t bother hiding his purpose.
Tapping his finger on the table, he conjured a phantom image of Wanda’s brother using illusion magic. It was S.H.I.E.L.D.’s archived data.
“Help me find him. Tenfold priority.”
Nick Fury immediately pledged he’d find him within three days—or he’d personally kick Captain America back to the Antarctic to herd penguins.
In fact, he felt grateful. The Sorcerer Supreme letting S.H.I.E.L.D. handle this was practically doing them a favor.
Russell wasn’t planning to make him work for nothing, though. Especially after how well S.H.I.E.L.D. had performed lately.
He raised his hand, and flames rose from his palm.
Right in front of Nick Fury’s widening eye, three golden coins materialized.
One side bore the World Tree; the other showed a flickering flame phantom.
Russell placed the coins on the table.
“When you encounter something you can’t handle—a crisis you can’t resist—just hold the gold coin and call my name.”
Without waiting for thanks, he teleported away.
Inside the office, Nick Fury’s breathing grew heavier as he stared at the three gold coins.
He had only one thought left:
S.H.I.E.L.D. is about to prosper.
This would be their ultimate trump card.
Forget Captain Marvel—that old woman hadn’t returned to Earth in years.
Look at the Sorcerer Supreme.
No comparison. None.
Smiling, Nick Fury carefully collected the gold coins, took the elevator down to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s deepest vault, and locked them away.
Meanwhile, Russell didn’t return to Kamar-Taj.
Compared to the quiet slopes of the Himalayas, he preferred somewhere livelier.
He decided to stay at the Sanctum Sanctorum in New York for now.
It was already afternoon.
On a bustling New York street, Russell stood in front of a hospital, dressed casually.
Presbyterian Hospital.
This was where Doctor Strange worked.
Russell walked inside and soon spotted him on the third floor.
That horse face was hard to miss.
At the moment, Strange was in the middle of surgery.
Russell stood inside the operating room—hidden from view—and watched quietly.
After a while, he nodded slightly in approval.
He had to admit: this guy was indeed a top-notch surgeon. Precise technique, steady hands, flawless micro-operations.
But just as Strange finished suturing the wound, Russell mischievously slipped a small, used hemostatic cloth inside the patient’s body.
Nothing fatal.
A little suffering for the patient, maybe a lawsuit for the hospital, but the guy might make millions in compensation.
Satisfied, Russell left.
Midnight arrived.
Floating before the world window, Russell emerged from meditation.
He felt like eating.
Not out of hunger—he could go without food for a thousand years—but out of sheer gluttony.
In his view, having power and living ascetically was just self-inflicted suffering.
There was a well-reviewed aged steakhouse in Brooklyn open until 1 AM. He figured he’d give it a try.
Instead of teleporting, he changed clothes and decided to walk.
After all, using magic for everything was just boring.
As he passed the glass display in the Sanctum’s hallway, his floating Cloak of Levitation gave him a respectful salute.
Twenty minutes later, Russell arrived at Brooklyn’s 13th Street.
Although it was New York, the streets were nearly deserted at this hour.
Brooklyn, after all, wasn’t exactly the safest place.
Suddenly, Russell stopped walking.
Above him, the sound of shattering glass echoed, and a man in a red combat suit and mask fell from a rooftop, landing just a meter in front of him in a shower of glass.
With a loud crash.
It sounded painful.
Groaning, the man pulled poisoned darts from his body, struggled to his feet, and tried to run.
But the sound of more glass breaking followed.
Face paling, he turned to shove the bystander in front of him aside.
Except…
Just as he reached out, he saw the bystander step back at an oddly precise angle.
The next second, with thuds and clangs, six black-clad ninjas landed around him in a circle.
Each wore a black scarf mask and held a sword.
Daredevil was now completely surrounded.
“You can’t run this time, Daredevil.”
“Surrender. Madame Gao says she’ll give you a chance.”
“You’ve got ten seconds to decide.”
“10... 9... 8...”
Daredevil felt dizzy. He was about to lose his grip on his billy club.
He hadn’t expected the gangsters he’d been tracking to be bait.
And now, poisoned and wounded, he was trapped.
The countdown felt like the whispers of devils in hell.
Just then…
“Hey, can you guys make way?”
“I’ve got a steakhouse to catch. Closes in an hour.”
A calm voice broke the tension.
Daredevil’s face twisted in disbelief.
Passerby...
Was he blind, or was I?
Did this idiot not see what was happening?
They’re ninjas, not film extras!
And instead of running, you're asking them to move aside?
Even the six Hand ninjas hesitated for a moment.
Then, the ninja who had been counting down barked coldly:
“Kill him.”
“Peel his skin. The Nine Spider Bride will love it.”
Six swords gleamed in the moonlight.
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Comments
Phoeni Xcel
I’m so sorry for my mistake. I overlooked it, and yes, she is Magik. I will correct the chapters I’ve already written and make sure not to repeat this mistake again. Thank you for pointing it out.
Kheiven Dhaiti
Is Mysterio supposed to be magik???? Very confusing
Kheiven Dhaiti
Again with the wrong names
