Reborn as the God-Emperor in Marvel

"Master, what's going on?" Solomon asked as he sat in front of the Sorcerer Supreme, staring at a simple ring on the table in front of him, etched with a hexagram. "Also, Master, please stop taking my orange soda. Just tell me why Belial brought that contract to me. I can't shake the feeling that the demon is up to something."

"This is a lawsuit that could last until the universe is destroyed, Solomon," said the Sorcerer Supreme casually. Several empty soda bottles lay beside her, a sign of their little game—Solomon would hide his snacks using magic, and the Sorcerer Supreme would break the enchantment to get them. Solomon had never won this game. The Sorcerer Supreme continued, "Did Belial tell you he was just reaffirming the contract?"

"Yes," Solomon replied. "But I never signed it."

"That's because the nature of a soul doesn't change. To Belial, your current name is just an alias, so he wouldn't bother asking you to sign again." The Sorcerer Supreme reached through a portal and pulled out two more sodas, tapping the table to signal Solomon to chill them. "Belial was happily toying with King Solomon's soul until one day, poof, the soul disappeared! That was a big deal. At first, he suspected God of being behind it, but he couldn't break into Heaven. Even after stealing the title of 'Satan' from Mephisto, it made no difference. Now, here you are."

"So, Belial thinks I'm King Solomon?" Solomon cast a cooling spell on the sodas. "And what about this ring?"

"That ring is, of course, the token by which King Solomon commanded the 72 demon pillars," the Sorcerer Supreme explained. "Belial insists that your soul belongs to him under the contract and that he's just continuing to claim it. As for the little tricks you tried to pull on the contract, they won't work—Belial's cunning far exceeds your imagination. As I mentioned before, the essence of a soul doesn't change. He's convinced that your soul belongs to him after your death."

"But I'm not King Solomon!" Solomon exclaimed. "I don't believe my soul is his either."

"Maybe so." The Sorcerer Supreme gave Solomon a knowing look. "But Belial doesn't see it that way."

"What I want to know is whether that contract legally binds me," the young arcanist said, spreading his hands. "I don't want my soul dragged into the hands of a demon because of some contract I never signed. Is this some kind of debt inheritance? All I have is the stigmata."

"It has some binding force, Solomon, because you and King Solomon share the same power. Though it's due to the stigmata, in a certain sense, you are the same person," the Sorcerer Supreme said. "At least, you now have the strength to resist Belial. And it's likely not just Belial you'll have to deal with."

"What do you mean?" Solomon was confused. Could there be more than one signee to the contract?

"You summoned the demon during a full moon," the Sorcerer Supreme explained. "The moon might also represent Lilith. Who knows?"

"Ugh..." Solomon sighed. "Master, just tell me how much more debt I owe. I'm not planning to pay back anything I owe to demons, but I'd at least like to know who my creditors are."

"On the day you were born, there was an upheaval in the Abyss," the Sorcerer Supreme said serenely. "While none of the demon lords issued orders, nearly every demon across the Abyss was involved in the chaos. You can estimate for yourself."

"Master, is it too late for me to run? Am I going to get sued by some demon court? If they even have the brains to set up courts, that is."

"What do you think?" The Sorcerer Supreme slid a soda toward Solomon. "This is a good thing—most people don't have the ability to stir up this kind of trouble."

"Alright." Solomon sighed again as he slid the ring onto the pinky of his left hand. If he had a choice, he certainly wouldn't have wanted this kind of headache. "Looks like I'm destined to fight demons."

"Possibly more than just one fight," the Sorcerer Supreme said with a glance at the ring, satisfied. "It looks good on you. Just remember, you'll have to pay for the summoning magic yourself. Don't worry—once this is all over, we can go visit Dormammu again. I'm sure he misses you."

---

Bayonetta watched Solomon sitting on a bench in the plaza, sighing heavily. "Is everything sorted out?"

"Well… sort of. Just give me a minute. I've had too much soda." Solomon raised his left hand, letting the witch see the ring on his pinky finger. "I was saving my ring finger for a wedding ring! Wait, what's with that outfit? I leave for a day or two, and you've gone over to the angels' side?"

Bayonetta was dressed head to toe in a form-fitting white mermaid gown, her long hair and elegant face wrapped in a white headscarf. Even her signature butterfly glasses had been replaced with plain round frames.

If it hadn't been for her beauty mark and unmistakable voice, Solomon might not have recognized her at all.

"A nun~" Bayonetta said with a playful tone. "It's a common hunting tactic, boy. While it doesn't usually work, this time it will. The Lagrna followers keep committing suicide, and those angels are bound to show up for their souls. Look at me, the kind-hearted big sister here to give these idiots a funeral."

It was late at night, and Bayonetta and Solomon were in Naples, inside one of the Lagrna cathedrals.

With the day of their creator god Jubileus' arrival approaching, many Lagrna followers were holding resurrection ceremonies. Some fanatics had even committed suicide to hasten the god's descent, and the cathedral was now filled with their corpses.

Enzo had taken on the job of performing the funeral for the Lagrna believers, and naturally, Bayonetta was helping out. The witch planned to lure out some high-ranking angels, as the scattered weak ones wouldn't be enough to offset the magic she had to spend to summon demons.

"Boy, don't steal my prey this time. Gomorrah is starving." The witch winked, striding confidently toward the church.

Solomon sighed again, standing up from the stone bench. He dusted off his red cassock and reluctantly followed her. According to the Sorcerer Supreme, he was now responsible for monitoring the witch clan. As for why it wasn't someone else, that had already been explained, so there was no need to go over it again.

As Solomon entered the church, he found a quiet spot in the upper gallery where no one would notice him.

"For the grief beyond our cities, for the eternal sorrow beyond us, for the destruction beyond our people." Bayonetta stood before the candlelit altar, hands clasped to her chest, her raspy voice echoing through the empty cathedral. "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here..."

The prayer had a distinct religious tone. Only those who had abandoned everything would find themselves unable to leave after embracing faith. Solomon nodded to himself; the person who designed this prayer was definitely a fanatic. The doctrine of the Lagrna cult was akin to a pyramid scheme.

Ahead, Bayonetta continued murmuring the prayer. As for when the angels would descend, that was anyone's guess. Bayonetta was convinced they wouldn't abandon the souls of the Lagrna followers—if no angels appeared, she would just beat up Enzo.

It looked like this might take a while.

"Hey, buddy." Solomon tapped the shoulder of the person beside him. "Now's not the time for photos. Come back tomorrow."

Time for a break.

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