Reborn as the God-Emperor in Marvel

It was entirely impossible for the Grandmaster to have Solomon integrate into ordinary life. This wasn't because Solomon was unwilling, but because the world of magic was simply too different from the mundane. Strange and bizarre things filled the lives of mystics, and even a glimpse into the magical world could push an ordinary person to the brink of madness.

The human body is like a petri dish. Whether people are aware of it or not, their bodies are hosts to thousands of bacteria, and similarly, their souls attract parasitic entities. Once a mystic opens their true eyes, they can see the extra-dimensional parasites attached to the soul. Of course, not all of these little creatures are harmful—some are even beneficial—but certain extra-dimensional bacteria can be a mental burden. Still, when a beautiful girl greets you with her soul covered in rainbow-colored parasites, it's hard for anyone to feel attraction—no matter how hormonally charged a teenage boy might be.

"That's why I don't date my female classmates," Solomon said, placing his glass on the table after gulping down half of his beer. "I didn't even get a good look at their faces today."

"Bullshit!" one of the patrons in the bar shook his head and cursed.

"Merlin's underpants!" muttered a British wizard nearby.

The bar where Solomon sat was one Kaecilius had brought him to. Much like the Leaky Cauldron in Harry Potter, the No Door Pub, hidden deep within New York City, was only accessible to the magical world. Sorcerers from all over the world, including mystics from Kamar-Taj, frequented the pub when they had nothing better to do. It was also the only place where Solomon could drink beer without getting arrested.

"See, Solomon? That's no excuse," Kaecilius said, sitting across from him, laughing. "Ordinary people and mystics can absolutely get along. The guardian of the Hong Kong Sanctum is a prime example. Those parasites are no reason to avoid them—you can get rid of them anytime you want."

"I think I did those guys a favor when I got rid of the extra-dimensional parasites on their heads during the fight," Solomon said. "But I still don't see the point in the Grandmaster forcing me to adapt to human society. We're just too strange for them."

"Exactly!" A large man, as burly as a bear, squeezed onto the sofa, shoving Solomon to the other end. His overpowering body odor nearly knocked Solomon unconscious, but the big man seemed oblivious, draping a thick, furry arm around Solomon's shoulders and burying him in his bear-skin scarf.

"When I, Count Koetz, used my spit to clear out those Croatian demon boars, all I got was exile," the giant man bellowed. "Ungrateful lot—they wouldn't even buy me a drink."

This was Count Koetz, who had killed and eaten a magic bear at the age of nine. Ever since, magical energy and trichinosis had coexisted in his intestines. Locals called him the Siberian Prophet, though he didn't actually possess any prophetic abilities. He was, however, one of the most masculine sorcerers in the land. Koetz's breakfast consisted of enchanted tree bark, and he had to drink poison after every meal. His spit was toxic, so the No Door Pub only allowed him entry on the condition that he refrained from spitting.

"Koetz, this is the Grandmaster's disciple, so don't fill his head with strange ideas," Kaecilius said. "Besides, do you really think anyone would thank you after you spit on them?"

"You're full of it! How did I end up here?" Count Koetz snapped out of his stupor, releasing Solomon from his bear-skin scarf. "What was I saying? Never mind, I still have some beer to finish."

"Ah, fresh air at last," Solomon said, taking a deep breath. "Kaecilius, why didn't you help me out?"

"I figured you could handle it," Kaecilius said. "Besides, you should be familiar with Koetz. The Grandmaster had his magic compiled and stored in the New York Sanctum. Haven't you seen that book?"

"You mean the one on Shelf 640? The one covered in black hair?" Solomon asked. "No sane person would go near that book. The alcohol fumes around it are so strong, it reeks of vodka."

"If you had read it, you'd know Koetz's face is printed on the cover. Even if you hadn't read the contents, that alone should've told you to steer clear of him," Kaecilius said. "Careful now, the Magic Prince is back. He's making his rounds, collecting tabs again."

"You haven't paid your tab yet, Kaecilius," a voice chimed in.

Monarch, the most unpopular person in the bar, approached. His white hair was wild, and one eye was covered with a patch. Dressed like an old Western gunslinger, Monarch was a strange man. The Grandmaster had used him as an example when explaining the price of using magic to Solomon. Though a black magic practitioner, Monarch was a genuinely good person.

When his parents were killed by a black magic-wielding tribe in India while they were missionaries, Monarch was adopted by the tribal chief. After learning black magic, Monarch returned to Britain, only to witness the tribe's annihilation at the hands of British colonists. In an effort to atone for the tribe's wrongs, Monarch traveled the world, helping others in his own way.

"In my day, after I saved some poor blonde girl by knocking down a group of dark sorcerers with a spell, I'd go home and drown a rabbit that night..." Monarch droned on, repeating a story he had told countless times. The patrons of the pub had long grown weary of hearing it.

"I believe I've already paid my tab," Kaecilius said, his smile vanishing. "I paid it long ago, Monarch—before I even entered Kamar-Taj, though the price was unbearable."

"The bill isn't so easily settled. You still owe much more," Monarch said, his one remaining eye locking onto Solomon with a piercing gaze, as sharp as a loaded revolver. His eyes seemed ready to fire bullets at any moment. "Kid, you hear that? Even as the Grandmaster's disciple, you must pay your tab. No one is exempt."

"I've already paid mine during my first mission," Solomon said. "After all, some things can't be paid for with rabbits, can they?"

"Well, at least you've got some guts," Monarch said, walking away from the table. "Remember, the tab always has to be paid..."

After Monarch left, Kaecilius fell silent. It was only after a long pause that he spoke again. "He's pretty annoying, isn't he?"

"I actually think he's alright," Solomon said, finishing off the rest of his beer with a belch. "It's good to have someone remind us of the price we must pay. The Grandmaster can't always be there to do it. Some things can't be replaced by spell ingredients."

"You're a rule-abiding kid, that's for sure. The Grandmaster must be proud of you. The hardest part of Kamar-Taj isn't learning magic—it's learning the rules," Kaecilius said, taking a deep breath as he downed the last of his whiskey. "You've done well, really well."

---

"Smells like booze," Athena said as she sniffed the air around Solomon, a vague smile on her lips. "And I detect a hint of woman, and a bit of demon too. Did you finally open your eyes and decide to drink with some women? Or have human women become too boring for you, so you've summoned succubi from the Abyss?"

"I just had a beer," Solomon replied. "If you're referring to the scent of perfume... I merely had dinner with a colleague. Nothing happened beyond that."

"Are you talking about when the Grandmaster wrapped Earth in a Mirror Dimension recently?" Athena asked. "I smelled a strong stench of demons then. Were you involved? Is that why you took such a long leave?"

"I was part of it," Solomon admitted. "But I'm here to catch up on my studies. My sculpture lessons aren't finished yet, and I still have school tomorrow."

"The kids at the orphanage haven't seen you in a long time, Solomon," Athena said, pulling him along. "They're still enchanted by your tricks, and you know how hard it is to get them to sleep when you're not around."

"I know it's not my place to ask about non-magical matters, but I still don't understand why you took in these gifted children," Solomon said as Athena led him downstairs toward the orphanage's back door. "I've never seen you train them to use their abilities."

"Because they shouldn't exist in this world," Athena turned and looked into Solomon's eyes. "Their abilities have no origin. Even I don't know who tampered with their genes. Those abnormal genes give them power, but their parents are ordinary people. Even the Grandmaster can't figure out who's responsible. That's why I gather these abandoned children and teach them to suppress their nature—to keep them from causing trouble. You know how humans treat those who are different. Even among their own kind, they create divisions. If these children were exposed, I can easily imagine their fate—either a prison or a lab, and neither is a good option. The one silver lining is that their abilities are unstable. Sometimes, they'll completely lose them and become normal humans."

"That might be due to interference

 from parallel worlds," Solomon said, opening the door. "This interference will eventually fade, and they'll become ordinary people. That abnormal gene might even be repaired."

"What do you mean?" Athena asked.

"It's my ultimate research project," Solomon explained. "Parallel world interference. It's one of my main goals."

"Sounds difficult. Is it something the Grandmaster assigned you?" Athena asked. "And remember, in front of the children, call me Minerva."

"Of course not. It's something that came to me after the last incident," Solomon didn't elaborate further, changing the subject. "Don't you dislike Romans? Why stick with that name?"

"It's better than telling people my name is Athena," the goddess of wisdom said. "It's easier to have 'Minerva' on a driver's license than 'Athena.' Now, you need to perform some tricks for the kids—they've missed you."

"I can tell," Solomon said, picking up a little girl who had wrapped herself around his legs. She hugged his face and kissed him. "Good evening, Lorna. What would you like to see tonight?"

"Tom and Jerry!" the little girl shouted.

"Well, we'll have to see what everyone else wants," Solomon whispered. "But if you don't tell anyone, I'll show you Tom and Jerry."

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