"Hey, my friend!" T'Challa found Salomon in front of the Black Panther Temple and gave him an enthusiastic hug. Yet the warm response he had expected never came. Salomon hurriedly rummaged through the pocket of his robe, then held a tiny coal-black kitten in his palm. T'Challa asked apologetically, "I didn't know you'd brought a little friend along! Is it all right?"
"Don't worry, it's vaccinated." After confirming that the kitten was still sleeping soundly rather than unconscious, Salomon tucked it back into his pocket. "It's been asleep for seven hours, and it hasn't peed in my pocket. That's lucky enough already," he said. "I didn't come here for a cat, T'Challa. You should know why I'm here."
"I've already reviewed the files on the Fimbulwinter Campaign." T'Challa smiled. "You did well. You saved the world. I think the cooperation between Wakanda and the City of Immortals should achieve precisely that." The information T'Challa had seen came from Shuri, the Wakandans' only channel for accessing the City of Immortals' classified documents. Stephanie had repeatedly rejected Wakandan requests to enter the Internal Affairs Department and military departments, firmly confining them to research and development.
That outcome had been inevitable. Even the City of Immortals had political struggles. The Wakandans wanted to transform its system into a parliamentary one and place the weapons and technologies it produced under supervision, using fears of weapon misuse as an excuse. Especially after the Fimbulwinter Campaign, when the City of Immortals destroyed an entire mountain, some people grew even more uneasy and incited Wakandan researchers to protest. But Stephanie had Salomon's support, so the Wakandans had always remained outside the decision-making circle.
T'Challa was no fool. He had long learned of the City of Immortals' internal struggles through Shuri. What he had not expected was that