"Damn it, this is creepy. Where did you get so many ghosts?"
Monarch followed inside, but upon seeing the situation in the living room, he instinctively stepped back a few paces.
But Gin had already closed the door.
Dealing with malevolent spirits was sometimes a sorcerer's duty. Some were skilled at handling demons, others at handling the undead.
Sorcerers needed to eat and live too, and exorcisms were a decent source of income.
Of course, there were better-paying gigs, but to maintain secrecy, many sorcerers avoided mainstream society, sticking to gray-area businesses on the fringes.
Like gambling for a living, fortune-telling for a living, or scamming for a living.
A sorcerer group like Kamar-Taj was slightly better off, with territory and manpower, able to be self-sufficient.
But a few hundred years ago, even Ancient One had to farm her own fields.
Monarch wasn't bad at handling the undead, but his youth had shaped him to be better at dealing with humans.
Most undead creatures, driven by resentment toward the living, were highly aggressive and dangerous, especially ghosts that could phase through walls.
"Not ghosts, heroic spirits. Relax, my friend."
Su Ming patted Monarch's shoulder, signaling Heimdall to guard the door while he spoke with the other two in the living room.
Gin had lit the fireplace, but the room was covered in dust. Though Asgard had no spiders, the musty smell of decay was unmistakable.
It was unclear whether it came from rotting furniture or the spirits themselves.
Gin sat Su Ming and Monarch on a bench, then lifted a beast pelt in the corner of the room, opened a trapdoor, and began pulling things out.
It was her small wine cellar.
"I didn't know you knew so many people in Asgard."
Monarch used magical transmission, his hand hidden in his pocket forming subtle gestures, maintaining a curious expression while secretly communicating with Su Ming.
"She's Gin."
Su Ming had Stranglehold write on the sorcerer's back for silent communication.
"The Gin I know? The one from your company?" Monarch's eyes widened, glancing at Su Ming, then turning to look at the corner of the room.
Su Ming shrugged. Aside from a bit of initial discomfort with the knowledge, nothing had changed—Gin was still Gin.
"That's right."
"Impressive illusion. I never noticed before. Does she have Vanir blood?" The magical transmission continued into Su Ming's ears. Monarch's voodoo arts included many obscure spells.
"No idea, but it's a minor detail. I didn't mention earlier—we might have to deal with the Serpent. You up for it?"
"The Serpent? The mythical Jormungandr? The one from the North Sea?"
"Uh, no. Jormungandr's an animal. This Serpent is Odin's brother." Stranglehold kept writing, crumpling Monarch's white suit jacket in the process.
Each time it finished a message, it rubbed the fabric like erasing a chalkboard, leaving Monarch exasperated.
But hearing "Odin's brother," Monarch's mouth twitched. "You're having me deal with not just Hydra but a god?"
"Maybe. If we find Zemo before he becomes a god, we'll only have to deal with one god."
After Stranglehold gestured with its tendrils, Monarch gave Su Ming a look that screamed, "Are you kidding me?"
But seeing Deathstroke's dead-serious expression, Monarch turned to the spirits. They were indeed well-behaved.
Still, the aura of death made his hair stand on end.
"You have a plan?"
"Of course. If you know runes, we'll start by deciphering clues."
"You know I grew up in India. Though I've traveled the world, runes are only used by a handful of Norwegian sorcerers, right?"
"You don't know them either? No matter, let's try some voodoo divination."
Su Ming pulled Zemo's face from his pouch and tossed it to the sorcerer.
Even Monarch, a blood-soaked rabbit-killing maniac, felt a wave of nausea upon feeling the slimy texture and realizing what it was.
The face was pale and bloated from soaking, with bits of flesh and sinew clinging to the other side, like a thin pizza slathered with too much expired tomato sauce.
"Ugh, you should've warned me."
"Holloway doesn't care about blood and flesh. He only gags when he sees Wade's face."
"He's a surgeon. Good thing your cousin's not here—I feel much lighter."
Monarch grumbled but held the face in one hand while pulling a rabbit from his pocket with the other.
Gin returned a small trinket to Su Ming, who took out a matching one and put it in his bag.
These were talismans from Ancient One, meant to block Heimdall's sight.
Their current location was Vanaheim. Monarch's divination magic had pinpointed a planet in the universe, and thanks to Heimdall, they recognized it.
But now in Vanaheim, Heimdall had to stay at the observatory at the Bifrost's end to coordinate, so only three people and a horse continued the pursuit of Zemo.
Pegasus Little Eight was thrilled to act alongside Odin. Su Ming figured having a mode of transport could prevent some surprises, so he brought it along.
Before leaving Gin's house, Monarch drew a magical circle, trapping Gin's sisters inside to keep them from wandering.
Su Ming, feeling sorry for them, had Stranglehold help carve a set of mahjong tiles from some wood.
There weren't enough, but they could play with them. Even if they didn't know mahjong rules, they could stack them like blocks, right?
But the ghosts didn't touch the tiles, mostly staring blankly at the fireplace.
"The distance affected accuracy and drained too much of my power. I can't perform a second divination to pinpoint direction yet."
Monarch, tears streaming, strangled a rabbit and tossed it to the ground.
Su Ming surveyed the surroundings. It was, well, somewhat like a Hobbit village.
Of course, the houses were noticeably larger.
Lush trees, grassy fields, and vibrant life were everywhere—a pastoral idyll.
"It's already a big help to narrow it down to one world in the universe. We'll use old-fashioned methods for now and try again when you've recovered."
"This is practically a medieval village."
Monarch wiped his face with a handkerchief, pointing to the side. The roads were made of dirt, with excrement visible in shadowy corners.
Gin glanced over. It was almost unchanged from her visits decades ago. "I didn't think much of it before, but now it feels worse than Brooklyn. Even hobos there know to crap in empty pizza boxes."
"No choice, just bear with it. The sooner we finish, the sooner we go home. Gin, are you familiar with this place?"
"I've been here a few times, not too familiar. But it's far from the royal palace. If Zemo's really in Vanaheim, I doubt a small village would hold his target."
"I'm curious—Hydra doesn't have the Bifrost. How did they get from Asgard to here so fast?" Monarch interjected. In cosmic terms, Vanaheim and Asgard weren't close.
Su Ming nodded. It was indeed a question.
"Heimdall said those guys had floating runestones above their heads. I haven't figured out their abilities yet, but it seems they can travel the Nine Realms."
"You said Zemo cut the threads of fate and drank from the Wisdom Fountain. I might know what those runestones are."
Monarch looked thoughtful.