Trump Cards and Divine Artifacts

The reason Sherlock had been so shaken was simple. Before he had transmigrated, he had been nothing more than an ordinary person. Even after gaining supernatural powers, all he had wanted was to live his own little life well.

But Ancient One's meaning had been obvious: whatever happened in the future seemed inseparable from Sherlock.

How was that possible? In the full five years since his transmigration, even after acquiring supernatural power, Sherlock had never once wanted to play the hero and dispense justice like those superheroes.

Sherlock had almost instinctively wanted to refuse Ancient One's final cryptic remark, but the Time Stone in her hand left him unable to make up his mind.

As far as Sherlock remembered, the only connection he could barely claim to the Avengers—aside from Ancient One, Marvel's most famous bald egg—was that his long-dead parents had once been senior employees at Stark Industries.

But his parents had worked there during the period when old Stark had died and Tony had only just taken the helm of that massive corporation. Sherlock simply did not believe his parents had had any connection with Tony.

He believed even less that the playboy who obsessed over cover girls every day on television would pay attention to the child of a former employee who had died in a plane crash while on a business trip—even if that child had been the beloved late-born treasure of the couple.

Sherlock pointed at the spot where Ancient One had vanished and cursed for quite a while, but the portal's light never reappeared. Finding it rather pointless, he pursed his lips, sighed helplessly, and turned his attention back to the Holy Lance of Longinus.

After all, Ancient One had said it plainly: if he could repair this divine artifact, it would be his!

Honestly, compared to becoming a superhero and saving the world, Sherlock much preferred his current old-money lifestyle—hiding at home, quietly drinking coffee while studying Alchemy and various divine artifacts.

As for the profession called "superhero," otherwise known as "the guy who takes the blame" or "a prestigious corporate mule," Sherlock was genuinely uninterested.

And that snap that would affect the entire universe in the near future?

Sherlock felt that when the sky fell, the tall people would hold it up. What did it have to do with a minor alchemist like him? Besides, he did not believe the so-called Infinity Stones could really turn him into dust.

As he thought of this, Sherlock subconsciously touched his left eye. Only he knew that beneath that prosthetic eye lay a blood-red stone, the thing he relied on to survive in this dangerous Marvel Universe.

The highest achievement of Alchemy—the Philosopher's Stone, capable of ignoring all rules and granting any wish!

Moreover, his Philosopher's Stone was the kind that suffered no depletion whatsoever. It had appeared before him together with that alchemical grimoire when he had transmigrated.

If fate truly existed, Sherlock believed that with the Philosopher's Stone he had hidden away and his Alchemy, he could tear that so-called fate apart by force.

No one could disturb his peaceful life! No one!

After venting, Sherlock cheerfully began using Alchemy to carefully inspect the divine artifact before him.

But the more he examined it, the more he felt that Kamar-Taj's foundations ran deep. This so-called Holy Lance of Longinus was less a "weapon" than, in essence, a "staff"!

Yes, a mage's staff—much like the staff in Gandalf's hand in the movies, the one lit up with an illumination spell.

However, compared with Gandalf's staff, which could only be used as a blunt weapon, the staff before him undoubtedly far surpassed it in both its abilities and its offensive power.

According to Sherlock's understanding, the staff's most basic function was something called "amplification," or perhaps "sublimation."

For a simple example, take Sherlock's Alchemy. As everyone knew, Alchemy required a Transmutation Circle to activate, while alchemists who had seen Truth could simplify the Transmutation Circle into a circle.

It was the same as the protagonist in Fullmetal Alchemist clasping his hands together. That was already the simplest form of a "Transmutation Circle" in Alchemy.

Yet the Holy Lance of Longinus before him could simplify Sherlock's Alchemy even further, turning "a circle" into "a point."

Put simply, as long as he touched something with the Spear of Longinus, he could directly activate Alchemy, eliminating the process of "drawing a circle."

And that was not all. At Sherlock's current level, the Holy Lance of Longinus's capabilities clearly went far beyond that. Judging by the inscriptions remaining on its shaft, this divine artifact might even be capable of activating Alchemy at a distance under optimal conditions!

That ability alone was enough to justify its status as a divine artifact.

As for its other functions—following, levitation, flight, owner recognition, recall, and the like—they were nothing remarkable compared to that primary ability.

Of course, Sherlock had inferred those functions in its intact state from the remaining runes on the shaft. The damaged Holy Lance of Longinus now retained only one function: levitation.

So this thing is basically an upgraded staff version of Benedict's flying cloak?

Sherlock stared at the Holy Lance of Longinus on the table with delight. He even wondered whether keeping it from Ancient One would be somewhat unethical.

But he immediately tossed that thought aside. After all, for an alchemist, the attraction of the divine artifact before him was undeniably enormous.

Fine, I'll call it the rental fee for letting Ancient One borrow Doro for a rubdown!

Having convinced himself with that utterly unconvincing excuse, Sherlock lightly brushed his right hand over his left arm. In the blink of an eye, the left arm that had looked completely normal split apart into countless pieces.

What had appeared to be an ordinary arm of flesh instantly transformed into a mechanical arm extending countless tools and weapons, bearing something of Rick's style.

But while Rick's arm was probably all about scientific machinery, Sherlock's arm was a genuine alchemical product. Every component within it was something used in Alchemy.

Like a lecher who had spotted a beauty, Sherlock strode toward the Holy Lance of Longinus on the table with an exceptionally wicked grin. He was determined to repair this divine artifact that would be of such tremendous help to him!