Ch: 177-184
177. Facing the Avengers?
Madam Cort had a serious expression on her face.
This time, although the Holy Trinity contestants were suspected of betting on the sidelines since they didn't even bother putting on a show and simply forfeited by being absent.
This did not mean that Brooklyn's victory was entirely based on luck.
To be able to make it all the way from the preliminaries to the present solely on luck would be an insult to the federal elite education system.
Luck?
That's something only those who believe in 'happy education' have faith in.
Originally, Locke and the others had been researching Holy Trinity. After all, Holy Trinity's advantage was so obvious that Midtown High School hadn't prepared any data on the five contestants from Brooklyn.
And so.
The moment Holy Trinity imploded, the files for the five Brooklyn contestants were immediately brought over.
Several people crowded behind Locke.
Locke opened the files of the five Brooklyn selections.
What met his eyes...
Helen Zhao, eighteen years old, Korean-American, Brooklyn, New York.
Susan Storm, eighteen years old, Long Island, New York.
Ben Grimm, eighteen years old, Queens, New York.
Jane Foster, eighteen years old, Brooklyn, New York.
Peter Parker, seventeen years old, Queens, New York... Peter?
Parker?
Little Spider?
Wait.
Locke raised an eyebrow, noticing the four names above, and then inwardly took a sharp breath.
Goodfellas.
Truly, what a bunch of Goodfellas.
The Avengers?
Helen Zhao, the genius scientist in the future Avengers; Susan Storm—isn't this the Invisible Woman? Then there's Ben Grimm—isn't this guy The Thing? Jane Foster, Thor's girlfriend on Earth; and as for Peter Parker, it goes without saying.
If this can't be called the Avengers, then what can?
Is he going head-to-head with the Avengers already?
Locke looked up at the ceiling.
Fortunately.
He was a player with cheats. If he were an ordinary free-to-play player, he might consider surrendering; even a pay-to-win player would probably bring a proposal to the table to surrender and lose only half.
"Don't underestimate Brooklyn this time."
Seeing the expressions of the others looking at her, Madam Cort said very seriously, "Whether it's Helen Zhao, Susan Storm, or Jane Foster, Midtown High School actually had intentions of poaching these three last year."
Cindy asked curiously, "Then why didn't they come over?"
Madam Cort spread her hands. "Why else? Brooklyn is Captain America's alma mater. Last year, Ms. Peggy Carter, who has retired to London, even visited Brooklyn. So, the Board of Trustees thought they would try this year to see if they could poach them next year."
Even though Midtown High School was an elite high school and Brooklyn was a public high school, they had the World-class Hero Captain America.
Captain America alone was enough to make Brooklyn's walls, if not impregnable, then certainly like a bronze wall and an iron bastion.
To poach these three students last year, Midtown High School had even offered the same 3S scholarship as Gwen.
But... after the news spread that Ms. Peggy Carter was coming to visit Brooklyn, even the temptation of the 3S scholarship failed to succeed.
Cindy laughed. "Madam Cort, we have Locke and Gwen. We're definitely winning this round."
Locke turned to look at Cindy.
Over the past month, Locke had felt like his back was covered in death flags. If he lost this round, none of them present would be innocent.
Madam Cort nodded. "The school also believes in Locke and Gwen, so good luck."
After saying that.
Madam Cort turned and left the self-study room that the school had specifically cleared out for the five of them for this Comprehensive Knowledge Competition, giving the space back to them.
After Madam Cort left, Matt spoke up, "I've dealt with this Helen Zhao before."
Kahn looked at Matt. "How's her strength?"
"Not to be underestimated."
Matt's assessment was the same as Madam Cort's. "In last year's New York State Physics Competition, this Helen Zhao entered halfway through. In the end, she still came out on top in points and won the championship."
"And you?"
"Second."
Cindy said from the side, "Having talent doesn't mean you'll definitely win. After all, resources are what matter. Although Brooklyn is a public high school, its educational resources are stronger than some private high schools in New Jersey. You just had bad luck. This time, we'll crush them clean and simple."
Kahn also nodded in agreement with his girlfriend's words, saying, "We made a bold claim at the start of the competition to take home twelve trophies and complete a Grand Slam. Besides, this time, we can also get revenge for our old rival. It's a win-win."
Not to mention.
Midtown High School's Board of Trustees had also secretly said...
If they could achieve a Grand Slam by winning twelve trophies this time, the five of them would be rewarded with a hundred thousand dollars—twenty thousand dollars in cash each, after taxes.
This fully illustrated the truth that being good at studying can indeed earn money.
Cindy reached out her hand and placed it in the middle of the five. "Crush Brooklyn, complete the Grand Slam!"
The other three also reached out their hands and then looked at Locke.
Locke smiled and placed his hand on top as well.
Then.
The five of them shouted in unison, "Crush Brooklyn, complete the Grand Slam!"
The chuunibyou energy was practically overflowing.
Soon.
Three days later.
April 6th, the sky was clear and cloudless.
A small bus, plus two school buses, came from the direction of Brooklyn, crossed the Manhattan Bridge, and arrived at the picturesque Midtown High School parking lot at eight o'clock in the morning.
The vehicles came to a steady stop.
Helen Zhao, with her smooth black hair down and an excellent appearance and figure, was the first to step out of the vehicle. Following behind her were the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Susan Storm and Jane Foster.
Ben Grimm, who had a strong build but a relatively honest face, stood up and patted Peter Parker, who seemed not to have snapped out of it yet. "Peter, we're here."
Peter Parker came to his senses and hummed in response.
"So, this is Midtown High School?"
"It doesn't look much different from our school."
"At most, there are just more luxury cars in the parking lot."
The future Thing and the future Spider-Man had just gotten off when they heard the discussion between Helen Zhao, Susan, and Jane over there.
Ben, The Thing, leaned in. "Holy Trinity High School's luxury is what you'd call 'a lot.' There, the parking lot is full of all kinds of the latest sports cars."
Jane, the future girlfriend of the God of Thunder, curled her lip. "A private high school for the children of Manhattan's elite is bound to be extraordinary, of course. However, they still lost to us."
Helen Zhao shook her head and smiled. "Don't be careless, Jane. This Midtown High School competition team is not weaker than Holy Trinity's, and they won't all suddenly get diarrhea."
If they even lost to Midtown High School this time, then the joke would be on them.
After all, in the past, it didn't matter who lost; the winner was always an elite high school anyway. That was also why elite high schools were so successful at poaching from public high schools.
But this time was different.
If Midtown High School lost, it would mean that elite education had lost.
Just then.
Vroom!
A silver flash lit up from not far away, and then a silver audi with a personalized license plate 'LKNB' slowly slowed down, making a sound similar to the low rumble of a sports car, and slowly parked in the parking space opposite the five Brooklyn students.
The engine cut out.
Locke said to Gwen, who was about to unbuckle her seatbelt in the passenger seat, "What do you think about me buying an SUV?"
Gwen asked suspiciously, "An SUV?"
Locke nodded. "The Q7, just released last month."
"Just released? It wouldn't be that fast."
"I have money, Gwen."
"..."
Gwen was convinced by this reason, but she still looked at Locke with some confusion. "Isn't this one good now?"
Locke said, "I feel like for hunting, driving this there isn't very good."
It was a coupe; hunting required driving a car to chase after prey.
It just so happened that if he ordered the car now, by the time it arrived, it would be around summer vacation, and he could go hunting with George.
Gwen rolled her eyes. "Then you should buy a Pickup Truck."
Who specifically buys an SUV just for hunting?
Are you going to throw the prey directly into the back seat?
Could that car... still be used?
People go hunting in pickup trucks; the prey is thrown directly into the back, and then you just spray it down with a hose, and it's a brand new car again.
"Is that so?"
Locke thought of how Texas was indeed full of Pickup Trucks, but: "Does audi have Pickup Trucks?"
Gwen gave a brilliant smile. "Mr. Broughton has money; he can just give them money. Why not just commission a custom Pickup Truck directly from audi?"
Locke's eyes lit up. "Is that possible?"
Gwen opened her mouth, unbuckled her seatbelt, and pushed open the car door; she didn't want to talk anymore.
It was the same old story.
Locke was an orphan, but in Gwen's eyes, Locke could not be a spokesperson for orphans at all. Where in the World was there such a wealthy and overbearing orphan?
Locke looked at Gwen as she got out of the car, and also temporarily put aside the idea of asking audilater, pushed open the car door, and walked out.
And then.
Locke and Gwen saw the large crowd of non-students getting off the buses on the opposite side.
Gwen and Locke glanced at each other and then directly left the parking lot.
This was the opponent aggressively coming to visit, intending to step on Locke's team and even on Midtown High School's elite reputation; they clearly came with ill intent.
Susan Storm watched the departing Locke and Gwen, and then her gaze fell on Locke's silver car. "That should be Midtown High School's Captain this time, Locke Broughton, and Gwen Stacy."
Locke and the others had researched Brooklyn.
Naturally.
Brooklyn had also researched Midtown High School.
Especially Locke Broughton.
Helen Zhao nodded. "Locke Broughton, he seems to be from Texas, right?"
"Right."
Jane Foster tucked her blonde hair behind her ear, watching the now-disappeared Locke, recalling the contents of the files. "This Locke Broughton is quite legendary."
178. Malik's Allegiance
"Locke Broughton."
"A Texan, he won the championship in the Texas Young Cowboys Competition and is known as the leader of the younger generation of Cowboys."
"He was later scouted by Midtown High School."
"He enrolled on the morning of the first day, and by the time school was out that afternoon, he was already ranked as Midtown High's number one heartthrob."
"Last year, he led Midtown High to Maine and won the Chemistry Knowledge Competition trophy with overwhelming dominance."
"But his legendary status isn't because of his deeds inside the school, but because of those outside it."
"He was once kidnapped by the Peerless Assassin."
"He was subjected to violent interrogations by the Department of Homeland Security and the Federal Bureau of Investigation."
"Subsequently, he took the Department of Homeland Security and the Federal Bureau of Investigationto court, forcing the Federal Bureau of Investigation into an out-of-court settlement, while the jury ordered the Department of Homeland Security to pay over ten million dollars in damages."
"And his legend continues."
"The poseidon."
"Rumor has it that the reason the eleven survivors from the poseidon made it out alive was because of Locke."
"And it's said that while waiting for rescue, Locke even slaughtered a deep-sea great white shark."
"..."
Jane Foster repeated Locke's profile, exchanged a glance with Zhao Helen, and then said, "This year, Broughton intends to run for the position of student council president at Midtown High. At the start of the competition, he even boldly declared that he would take all twelve trophies of the Comprehensive Competition. He's aggressive and clearly means business!"
Everyone couldn't help but nod.
Peter Parker remained silent for a moment, then opened his mouth: "Um, Foster, we're the ones who 'mean business' here. This is Midtown High, not Brooklyn."
Jane, Zhao Helen, and the others turned to look at Peter Parker.
The latter: "..."
In the hallway.
"Locke, keep it up!"
"Okay."
"Locke, crush them."
"Okay."
"Locke, everyone from the Dance Club will be at the auditorium to cheer for you."
"Thanks."
"Locke, slaughter Brooklyn, and you'll be our next president!"
"...Okay."
Locke looked at the classmate who was clamoring for him to "slaughter Brooklyn," and his mouth twitched subtly.
If he really "slaughtered Brooklyn," he didn't know if he'd be president, but he was certain he'd be on the Federal Bureau of Investigation's most-wanted list under the name Locke Broughton.
"Broughton."
"Malik."
Locke closed his locker door. Not far away, Sam Malik, the quarterback of the school's Football Teamwho also wanted to run for student council president, glanced at Gwen and then said to Locke, "Got a moment?"
Gwen said from the side, "We need to go get ready."
Locke gave an affirmative grunt, said "I'll be right there," and then looked at the scarred Sam Malik in front of him. "Sure, where should we talk?"
"The stadium."
"Okay."
It only took five or six minutes to get from the stadium to the auditorium, so it wouldn't take too long.
Locke responded, glanced at Gwen, and then made a "lead the way" gesture to Sam Malik.
Gwen stood there and frowned.
The next second.
Gwen seemed to think of something, shook her head, closed her locker, and prepared to meet up with Cindy, Kahn, and the others first.
In the study room.
Cindy, Kahn, and Matt, who had already arrived, blinked as they watched Gwen walk in through the door.
Cindy looked behind Gwen: "Where's Locke?"
Kahn was slightly taken aback: "Oh god, he doesn't have diarrhea, does he?"
Matt frowned: "That's impossible."
These past three days, they had been very self-disciplined. Even the water they drank was bottled and packaged by the school's nutrition cafeteria after strict testing to ensure they wouldn't end up like the Holy Trinity—exiting the stage in disgrace as a joke due to physical issues.
Gwen listened to Cindy and the others' chatter and said, "Locke went to the stadium. He'll meet us at the auditorium later. Let's head over first."
At the stadium.
In the stands.
Locke and Sam Malik found an empty corner and sat down, one in front of the other.
"What's up?"
Locke looked at Sam Malik, whose surname was quite significant.
Malik is a relatively famous surname in the Marvel Universe, especially within a certain organization where it's a name that rings a bell. In that organization, if your last name is Malik, you're practically royalty.
Locke hadn't checked if Sam Malik's "Malik" was that specific surname.
He believed that after last year's confrontation, HYDRA would be wary. Until they figured out who the Peerless Assassin really was, they wouldn't continue to provoke him.
Nick Fury might be lacking in emotional intelligence.
But HYDRA's emotional intelligence was maxed out. Otherwise, HYDRA couldn't have remained parasitic within S.H.I.E.L.D. for so many years without anyone noticing.
If Nick Fury were HYDRA...
Heh.
It wouldn't take three years; in three months, HYDRA would likely be completely exposed to the Worldunder that Black Egghead's unique style of play.
Sam took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and handed one to Locke.
Locke glanced at it.
Took it.
Lit it.
Sometimes, the way men open up to each other is simple and blunt.
Sam nodded and said directly, "If you plan to run for student council president, agree to one request of mine, and I'll withdraw."
Locke glanced at Sam.
Although the phrase "the advantage is with me" always seemed like a death flag...
But... the advantage really was on his side.
According to the school newspaper survey from two days ago, Locke's current approval rating was ahead of Sam Malik and that Nina Bell.
While it wasn't a landslide victory yet...
Locke still had a trump card he hadn't played: the Comprehensive Competition. It was predicted that once Locke won the twelve grand slam trophies as he had said before the competition, his approval rating would rise significantly.
With him already leading the approval ratings before the first campaign speech scheduled for April 15th, Sam Malik saying he would voluntarily withdraw at this time wasn't exactly "help in a time of need," nor could it even be called "the icing on the cake."
However... Locke pondered for a moment and looked at Sam: "Tell me your conditions."
If Sam Malik withdrew, the students supporting him would transfer their votes to Locke. This way, the advantage would expand once again.
Locke really wanted to hear what Sam Malik's request was.
If it was just a small favor, it wouldn't matter.
If it was a bit difficult, he'd just refuse; it was no big deal.
Sam nodded: "I will withdraw from the election and campaign for you. If you succeed, I hope the Student Council can look a bit... cleaner."
Cleaner?
That's a rather tactful way of putting it.
Honestly, if it were anyone else, they probably wouldn't even know what that adjective was intended to convey.
Locke could help translate it.
Wasn't it just like: the wall was originally white, but now, there are many black stains on it?
But since Sam didn't say it outright, Locke naturally wouldn't either.
Locke raised an eyebrow and looked at Sam.
"Is the Student Council not very 'clean' right now?"
"Do you know why I'm running?"
"No idea."
Sam Malik smiled: "Because that Nina Bell plans to assimilate the Student Council. That's why I chose to run this year. Once she wins the election, my Football Team will be tainted as well."
"Oh?"
"The student council president has the right to interfere in various clubs and activities of the school."
"Understood."
"I knew you'd understand."
Sam Malik looked at Locke: "This year is my only chance to lead Midtown High to the high school league's Super Bowl. If I miss this year, I won't have another opportunity. If you are elected, I hope you can support me regarding the Football Team members, because I know you and I are the same kind of person."
Locke smiled: "What makes you say that?"
Sam said, "You live in the Starlight Tower."
Locke raised his eyebrows.
Honestly, it was only after he moved into the Starlight Tower that he accidentally learned it had a very famous nickname.
It was Gwen who told Locke not to mention where he lived at school.
After all, the Starlight Tower was a major target for resentment among certain groups.
When Locke heard this, he felt something too; he had to say, this nickname suited his temperament perfectly.
One sentence.
"I'm from Texas, where the folk customs are simple."
Discrimination?
That's basic procedure.
If you didn't discriminate, you couldn't be called a proper Texan.
Texans have always taken pride in discrimination and felt shame in not doing so. In the home of the rednecks, the Lone Star State, if you go there and say, "Texas isn't just the rednecks' Texas, it's our Texas too..."
Believe it or not, the moment those words come out, you won't even know how you died.
The corners of Locke's mouth curled up. He glanced at Sam Malik and then nodded: "Sure."
Even if Sam Malik hadn't said anything, he would have done this after joining the Student Council.
For no other reason.
When he saw a white wall covered in dense black stains, he couldn't help but want to use a scraper to scrape those black stains off.
However... just as the Starlight Tower had never publicly admitted to discrimination—the reason there were no black-skinned people was entirely because they didn't have the money or didn't bid high enough.
Locke wouldn't say it publicly either.
Because he didn't need to.
He was from the Lone Star State, the leader of the younger generation of Cowboys, and he lived in the Starlight Tower. These two points were enough to establish his persona before he even opened his mouth.
Seeing this, Sam Malik reached out his right hand to Locke: "Pleasure doing business with you, Locke."
Locke glanced at it, smiled, and shook Sam Malik's hand: "Pleasure doing business with you, Sam!"
179. This Society Is Already Sick
Business is business.
Even if Sam's Malik family is the same as Gideon's Malik family, it wouldn't hinder this cooperation.
It's like I said before.
Compared to S.H.I.E.L.D., Locke felt that HYDRA was much more to his taste.
After all... HYDRA advocates for the strong ruling the weak.
Mhm.
It very much fits the core spirit of the Federation.
Furthermore, compared to so-called personal grudges, there is a kind of grudge that stands far above everything else: the current situation where someone wants to spray their pristine white walls black.
This definitely cannot be allowed.
Locke liked any other color, but he made an exception for black—specifically black suits; he didn't like them.
Inside the auditorium.
Kahn and Matt let out a visible sigh of relief when Locke finally appeared; after all, it was better to be safe than sorry.
They knew Sam Malik had called Locke out. What if Sam Malik had used some underhanded tactic and simply knocked Locke out with a blunt object to make him miss the competition?
Although such a scenario was unlikely.
Considering the bizarre incident where the entire Holy Trinity team collapsed from exhaustion and was hospitalized the night before the competition, this scenario wasn't actually more fantastical than what had happened to Holy Trinity. Since that had occurred, maybe something like this could happen too.
It's good that he's back.
Kahn and Matt looked at the safely returned Locke with expressions of relief.
Locke gave the two of them a suspicious look, then walked over to Gwen and asked curiously, "What's wrong with those two? They haven't become so nervous that their brains are malfunctioning, have they?"
Although he was fully prepared to carry the team four-on-one and achieve a 'god-like' performance...
Still... it was better to hold back a little. Being overly flamboyant didn't suit his personality of wanting to grind out missions peacefully.
Keep a low profile as a person, but maintain a high profile in actions.
This was Locke's consistent principle. As long as the result was good, the process wasn't actually that important.
Gwen told him to ignore them, then whispered to Locke, "Did Malik say he's withdrawing from the election and switching his support to you?"
Locke looked at Gwen. "As expected of my campaign manager."
Gwen smiled, but then her expression turned somewhat serious. "You agreed?"
Locke looked at Gwen curiously. "Why wouldn't I?"
He didn't like losing. Using something he intended to do anyway to trade for someone's withdrawal was, for him, a win-win—or at least a perfect outcome for both parties.
Gwen pressed her hand to her forehead, then whispered, "What were you thinking?"
"What's wrong?"
"With Sam Malik out, it's just you and that Nina Bell left."
"And?"
Locke thought about it seriously, then looked at Gwen with some suspicion. "With one less opponent, aren't my chances of winning quite high?"
Gwen looked at Locke earnestly and shook her head. "No, your win rate has decreased."
"What the hell?"
"You don't believe me?"
"A little."
Before, it was one against two; now it was one plus one against one. No matter how he looked at it, his advantage should have expanded, not his win rate decreased.
Gwen rubbed her forehead.
Cindy poked her head over from the side. "What's going on? What are you talking about? The competition is about to start."
Gwen looked at Cindy. "Locke just made a campaign deal with Malik."
"What?"
Cindy's voice rose slightly, then she looked at Locke and whispered, "God, you didn't really do that, did you?"
Locke blinked.
Gwen lowered her voice and said, "Do you know why Malik wanted to withdraw, other than the fact that you were leading in the polls?"
Locke frowned. Had he thought of something?
"Yesterday on the campus forum, there was an article accusing Sam Malik of racial discrimination."
"..."
Cindy pulled out her phone, quickly scrolled through yesterday's browsing history, and after clicking on something, her eyes lit up as she handed it to Locke. "Look."
Locke took it and looked.
The article was long, and the emotional rendering and provocation were very well-placed. Although it didn't say it explicitly, it approached things from the perspective of the Football Team, seemingly explaining one thing.
And that was: since Sam Malik became the Football Team Captain, they had only made it to the High School Super Bowl finals in the first year. Last year, they hadn't even broken into the top sixteen.
What was the reason?
Below was a list of members and photos from the first year, alongside photos of the current Football Team members.
Although the author of the article didn't say it outright, their viewpoint was very clear.
Furthermore...
There was a comment below with real-name verification.
It was from Nina Bell.
She stated in her reply that if she were elected Student Council President, she would immediately set about pushing for reforms in the high school Football Team.
Midtown High School was a temple of education; certain 'inharmonious' elements should not exist.
Locke looked up.
Gwen said, "Now that Sam Malik has withdrawn, you're the only one left. Do you think Nina Bell, knowing you met with Sam Malik, won't use the same method to attack you?"
No need to think about it.
This article definitely didn't appear for no reason.
Although the election hadn't officially started, the struggle had already begun. It was just that all of this was being masked by the hype surrounding the High School Knowledge Competition.
An election.
This tactic was very common—wasn't it just about digging up dirt on each other and then attacking?
Locke had long anticipated this.
Moreover... Locke handed the phone back to Cindy and looked at Gwen, saying, "Gwen, if I hadn't made a deal with Sam Malik, would our strategy have been to watch Sam Malik and Nina Bell go to war?"
Gwen said, "Our support rate is leading. They're the ones who should be anxious, not us."
Locke nodded. "Yes, but Gwen, you seem to have overlooked a most crucial issue."
"What?"
"I live in Starlight Tower."
"..."
Locke looked at Gwen, whose eyes had widened, and smiled. "Even if I didn't make a deal with Sam Malik, according to your deduction, Sam Malik would still fail. And when that time comes, obviously, if Nina Bell can use this point to attack Sam, why wouldn't she attack me?"
Compared to the excuse for attacking Sam Malik—those so-called photos which weren't even indirect evidence—one could simply say there just weren't any good football players among the black students.
But Starlight Tower?
Even though Starlight Tower had no record of failure over the years, almost everyone tacitly accepted the implications of its special name. There was even an old photo of a sign at the entrance of Starlight Tower saying 'XX and Dogs Not Allowed'.
Locke spoke thus and then smiled. "Don't worry, Gwen. You said it yourself: the advantage is ours."
Gwen gave a dry laugh. "Once she brings up the race issue, it's hard to say."
Race was a sensitive topic.
Especially with the current trend of 'bleeding hearts' sweeping the country.
Forget being against it; even treating people with an equal eye was considered discrimination. There was a strong trend where only'sucking up' was not considered discrimination.
Locke shook his head. "Don't worry, we'll win."
In my dictionary, there is only victory.
If she dared to use underhanded tactics, did she think Locke wouldn't dare to do the same?
Locke also believed in one saying.
If a person is killed, they die!
He might not be able to solve the problem, but Locke could guarantee he was one hundred percent sure of solving the person who raised the problem.
Furthermore...
Locke looked at Gwen with a smile. "She'd better not use that. Otherwise, my legal team isn't just for show."
Gwen was slightly taken aback.
Locke smiled and spread his hands. "If she wants to use 'magic', well, so can I."
Let her try to accuse him.
As long as she dared to say it, Locke believed Lawyer Laun would be very happy to take on this business.
Freedom of speech?
Heh.
When Locke led this competition team, there were already voices on the campus forum asking, for example, why there were no students of their color in this team.
This society was already sick, and it would only get sicker.
Locke thought this to himself, then seeing the trace of worry still on Gwen's face, he gave her a direct hug. "Don't worry. I've always believed that in the face of strength great enough to crush everything, any scheme will be like a mantis trying to stop a chariot—it will be crushed to dust."
Just then.
Madam Cort pushed the door open and walked in. "Guys, the audience has started entering outside, we should also..."
As she spoke.
Madam Cort saw Locke and Gwen there, looking into each other's eyes and hugging.
A moment of silence.
Madam Cort laughed. "Locke, Gwen, I'd prefer if you embraced and kissed on stage after winning, rather than just a simple hug here."
Locke and Gwen let go. Locke looked at Madam Cort with a smile and a serious face. "Madam Cort, I promise you, there will be such a scene."
Gwen coughed from the side.
A moment later.
Five hands were stacked together.
"Crush Brooklyn and complete the Grand Slam!"
With those words.
Locke took the lead, bringing the other four and Madam Cort out of the lounge.
Inside the auditorium.
"Wow!"
Helen and George found a place to sit. Helen used the small booklet in her hand to fan herself. Looking at the venue, which was almost full, she said to George sitting next to her, "Why didn't we come here last year?"
George thought about it seriously. "Maybe because Gwen had just started school?"
After all, for the Student Council, ninth graders only had the right to vote, not to be elected. And George had heard Gwen mention that this competition was specifically designed to build momentum for the Student Council President.
On the stage.
A large scoreboard had been set up.
The competition tables for Midtown High and Brooklyn were also in place.
The big screen was ready as well.
Soon.
Locke, representing Midtown High, shook hands with Zhao Helen, who represented Brooklyn.
"Locke Broughton!"
"Zhao Helen."
One Hundred and Eighty, an Easy Match
As Locke shook hands with Helen Cho, a question suddenly popped into his mind.
It was said that Helen Cho's IQ was no less than Tony Stark's. If that were the case, then if he won against Helen Cho today, could it be interpreted this way?
Locke won against Helen Cho, and Helen Cho was greater than or equal to Tony Stark, which meant Locke won against Tony Stark?
That's how it could be understood, right?
And... Locke looked at the four people beside Helen Cho. Although only Spider-Man among them was a genuine Avenger, the other four, rounded up, could also be considered members of the Avengers.
Nice.
Locke thought to himself. After the ten people stood together, facing the audience, and took a group photo, he shook hands with Helen Cho once more: "Good luck."
Helen Cho looked at Locke, who was smiling and exuding gentlemanly demeanor, and also smiled, saying, "You too. We'll give it our all."
Locke smiled.
He returned to his seat.
With the sound of the bell, the competition officially began.
Midtown High School versus Brooklyn High School, fifty questions for each side. If the scores were tied, then they would proceed to a ten-question sudden death round.
The finals lasted four days, with a total of twelve matches, three per day, which could be considered a high-intensity competition.
However, for Locke, he didn't care about the process; as long as the final result was what he wanted to see, that was enough.
Of course.
For the audience, the process was exceptionally exciting.
Basically, in all twelve consecutive matches, the ultimate winners were decided in the ten clearly over-syllabus sudden death questions.
However.
By 4 PM on the fourth day, it was clear that the number of students from Brooklyn High School who had come to watch had significantly decreased.
The reason?
Without a doubt.
When Locke clearly articulated the perfect answer to the final tenth question, the outcome of this last match was already decided.
Midtown High School won the final match with a one-point lead.
The next second.
The bell rang!
In an instant.
"Oh yeah!"
"Well done!"
"Broughton, Broughton..."
"Nice!"
In the auditorium, the Midtown High School students, who had the home advantage and made up two-thirds of the audience, almost instantly rose from their seats the moment the bell rang, then applauded enthusiastically and let out huge cheers.
Mrs. Kord, who was sitting below, accompanying them, also stood up with her material and applauded warmly.
"Grand Slam!"
"It really is a Grand Slam."
"The Academic Decathlon seems to be in its nineteenth year this year, and there hasn't been a Grand Slam, has there?"
"There was one."
"You mean the one from Washington D.C.? That doesn't count; it was reported afterwards that a committee member of the High School Alliance was a parent of one of the students."
"So, we're the first?"
"Yes!"
"I think we should increase the stakes."
"I agree."
"The captain gets fifty thousand, the other four get thirty thousand. We have this much money."
"Seconded!"
"No objection."
The school board members were ecstatic, exchanging glances and speaking one after another, directly raising the original prize money of twenty thousand dollars per person after victory to thirty thousand, and Locke, as the captain, was further rewarded with fifty thousand.
Only one hundred seventy thousand dollars.
This small amount of money, compared to the fame brought by this Grand Slam, could not be called a bargain, but it could be said to be a huge profit.
After all, with this Grand Slam, even Hotchkiss, ranked first in the National High School Alliance, would probably not dare to speak loudly to Midtown High School from now on.
As for their old rival in New York City, Trinity?
Heh.
They almost lost face for the entire elite high school group. If it weren't for Midtown High School turning the tide, Trinity would probably have been directly ridiculed into self-isolation by the elite high schools in the National High School Alliance.
Let a happy high school ride roughshod over an elite high school?
Trinity and the elite high schools would have issued a kill order; this was already considered restraint.
Now?
Still dare to speak loudly?
From now on, let alone speaking loudly, after today, starting tomorrow, Trinity would have to take a detour when encountering Midtown High School, and this period would be at least one year.
Listening to the undisguised laughter of the Midtown High School officials, several staff members from Trinity High School, who had been invited to watch the competition, exchanged bewildered glances.
Then.
They immediately recorded the names of Locke and the others, stood up, and left.
Laugh my ass off.
When we poach your championship team to our Trinity, I'll see if you can still laugh.
Isn't it just about being financially strong?
In that regard, Trinity has never been afraid of anyone.
Below the stage.
George and Helen, sitting with Kahn, Cindy, and Matt's parents, also stood up, applauding enthusiastically for their respective children on stage.
"George."
"Hmm."
"Tomorrow's phone calls are probably going to be non-stop, aren't they?"
"Didn't you promise your alma mater that Gwen would go there?"
"It's good to listen to the terms."
Helen's alma mater was New York University. In fact, last year, NYU had already noticed Gwen and then, through old alumni connections, found Helen, an alumna, to inquire if it was possible for Gwen to attend NYU.
It was the same old saying.
Starting from ninth grade, after entering high school, the matter of university was already on the agenda.
This time, with the Grand Slam honor from the High School Alliance Academic Decathlon in hand, Helen was certain that by noon tomorrow at the latest, emails and phone calls from universities across the federation would begin to bombard them.
Just like Midtown High School actively scouted excellent students.
Universities across the federation would make all sorts of promises for outstanding students, just to get them to attend their university.
This situation had happened when Gwen was in fifth grade.
At that time, Trinity and Midtown High School did exactly that, making various visits, with the goal of recruiting Gwen.
Gwen chose Midtown High School at the time.
Although Trinity was more famous than Midtown High School, the student hierarchy at Trinity was too obvious, with most being upper-class New York students. Therefore, Gwen rejected Trinity's invitation of a one hundred thousand scholarship per year and chose Midtown High School, which offered her a 3S scholarship.
So... although Helen also wanted Gwen to attend her alma mater, and it was close to home, NYU hadn't made any promises. In this situation, how could NYU expect to get Gwen for free?
Even if it was her alma mater, it wouldn't work.
On stage.
"Ding!"
"Mission completed: 'Grand Slam Node!'"
"Bonus coefficient: Currently twelve times!"
Locke's lips curved slightly upwards.
What if it was the Avengers?
He won.
As always.
One hundred twenty thousand points secured.
Including the 45,000 points awarded during the month of preparation, so far, the guaranteed points from this wave were already nearly one hundred seventy thousand.
Once this mission was over, it would undoubtedly be nearly two hundred fifty thousand points.
Indeed.
New York truly was his land of rising fortune!
Amidst the cheers and applause in the auditorium, Locke, prompted by Gwen, stood up and walked towards Helen Cho, who had also risen, her mood not very pleasant, but still managing a faint smile.
They shook hands before the competition.
Now that the competition was over, they naturally had to shake hands again.
Locke shook hands with Helen Cho and glanced at the four Avengers from Brooklyn: "It seems my luck is a little better."
During the final sudden death question.
Locke and Helen Cho had pressed their buzzers almost simultaneously, but it was normal for Locke, being male, to have faster reflexes than a female.
Helen Cho forced a smile: "Luck is also a kind of strength."
Twelve trophies, and not a single one taken back.
Helen Cho tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at Locke: "I look forward to competing against you again next year."
She had originally planned to graduate this year.
But... she changed her mind. She would stay for another year, and after defeating Locke next year, she would go to university.
Locke smiled, then, remembering what Mrs. Kord had told him at noon today, he said to Helen Cho: "Actually, there's a way you don't have to wait until next year."
"What?"
"Come to our school."
"Wh—"
Locke smiled and said: "Midtown High School would be delighted to offer all five of you 2S-level scholarships, provided you are willing to come."
Helen Cho was slightly stunned, then looked up at Locke with a strange expression: "Are you trying to poach us, Brou—"
Locke shrugged: "Please, call me Locke. Can I call you Helen?"
This Helen was not Helen Stacy, but Helen Cho.
Locke didn't want to either.
But who could blame him when Mrs. Kord had asked him?
Mrs. Kord had been unable to contain herself a few days ago. If it weren't for the worry that Brooklyn might turn around and report her for disturbing their players' morale by taking advantage of the home ground, Mrs. Kord would have rushed up on the first day of the competition.
Originally, even before the finals, these five people were already on Mrs. Kord's list.
But these past few days?
Wait until next year to poach them?
Mrs. Kord wished she could poach these five people today and have them enroll next year.
Brooklyn High School doesn't deserve you.
Midtown High School is a paradise for academic geniuses and top students.
A dragon does not dwell with snakes!
Mrs. Kord, sitting below the stage, looked eagerly at Helen Cho, who was talking to Locke on stage. As long as Locke brought up the matter, she would visit Helen Cho's home tonight.
Locke, who always adhered to the principle of being high-profile in actions and low-key in person, put away his sharp edge after the competition, displaying his excellent upbringing and demeanor: "I look forward to seeing you at Midtown High School, Helen. You can seriously consider this proposal."
Helen Cho: "..."
181. Confession to You Only
Locke's invitation was partly based on Mrs. Cord's request for him to do so.
But the other half was Locke's own idea.
No other reason.
Locke would be back next year.
He was only in tenth grade now, and as long as he successfully ran for and became president of the student council this time, he would be able to serve for two consecutive years until twelfth grade.
In other words...
For the next two years, next year and the year after, he would have a guaranteed income of at least 145,000 points annually.
Locke wouldn't even let go of mosquito meat, let alone such a juicy piece of fat.
But... he didn't plan to upgrade his learning skills any further before graduation.
Locke had no intention of pursuing a career in scientific research; he wasn't interested in it, so he didn't plan to improve those skills before college.
However, if Helen Zhao and the others went back this time, learned from their mistakes, and fought hard for a year, then when they returned next year, it would truly be the Avengers.
And if Locke didn't want to lose, he might have to level up those learning skills again.
Why bother with such internal competition?
When there was a simpler way, why choose the path of internal competition?
Why not just recruit Helen Zhao and the others, and then have them represent Midtown High School next year?
It wasn't some deep-seated, blood-feud type of hatred.
Helen Zhao smiled politely, neither refusing nor agreeing, merely saying, "I'll consider it, Locke. Congratulations again."
"Thank you."
Winning twelve trophies, that was Locke's promise.
Locke never broke a promise.
Soon.
Helen Zhao, Peter Parker, and the future Invisible Woman, Thor's girlfriend, turned and left. The stage was now for the victors, not for them.
Mrs. Cord, sitting in the audience, watched Helen Zhao and the others, who had already left the stage and were heading for the school gate, and quickly stood up, intending to strike while the iron was hot and bring it up again. Then, in a few days, she would bring a teacher and visit their home to poach them. That way, it wouldn't seem so abrupt.
On stage.
The competition equipment was being cleared away, and the twelve trophies were gradually being brought onto the stage.
Kahn and Cindy were embracing, looking forward to their champion's stage.
Matt, at this moment, went down to talk to his cousin, Andrew, who was somewhat introverted and a bit eccentric.
Gwen was chatting with Betty and Carrie.
In the past month.
Carrie hadn't become best friends with Gwen, but rather with Betty.
This was quite surprising.
But Locke thought about it and realized it was actually quite normal.
After all, Betty's personality was quite similar to Gwen's; both were kind and gentle.
At first, Betty felt that Carrie's demeanor and speaking style were well-suited for their media department. After a few invitations from Betty, Carrie gave it a try, and the student response was very positive.
Gradually, Betty and Carrie became closer.
With Betty's support and student feedback, Carrie was now hosting the campus news reports for the campus TV station.
Initially, Carrie was a bit unaccustomed to it, but with Betty's help, there were already signs that she and Betty would soon be known as the two goddesses of Midtown High's media.
Locke was pleased with this.
Because he understood Carrie, and he also understood Betty.
Betty, after all, wasn't like Cindy. Even with familiar people, Cindy would occasionally play pranks, but those who knew Cindy well would realize she wasn't a truly assertive student.
Cindy just liked to have fun.
However, due to Carrie's past, she harbored resentment towards such assertive students. While she was fine when with Locke and the others, Carrie rarely sought out Cindy privately.
Locke didn't intervene too much.
He had only given Carrie a new life; that didn't mean he liked to control her life.
Furthermore.
Personality is something that doesn't change overnight. Carrie was only seventeen now, and her future was promising.
Locke walked over, smiling, "What are you all talking about?"
Betty saw Locke approaching: "I was reiterating my demands to your campaign manager. Don't think about crossing the river and demolishing the bridge, or killing the donkey after the millstone is ground. I bet on you right from the start."
Locke laughed, "Don't worry, I won't."
Betty, as a member of the school's media department, chose to side with Locke and support his bid for president, not just out of camaraderie.
Uh... eighty percent was out of camaraderie, but the remaining twenty percent was due to her own demands.
Just like Sam Malik a few days ago.
Sam Malik stated that their football team would fully support Locke's bid for president, and in return, Locke would need to support Sam Malik's position in football after successfully being elected.
And Betty's alignment with Locke also had the expectation of a return.
That is, Betty hoped that after Locke was successfully elected and officially took office in June this year, he would support her reform efforts for the school's media department.
After all, although this was a campus election, it was a legitimate election.
Just like Ms. Casey of New York City, who came to power in last year's upheaval, after taking office, Ms. Casey's task was to fulfill the promises she made to her supporters.
Locke naturally wouldn't refuse Betty.
He was completely without ambition.
Still the same old saying.
If he could participate in this knowledge competition without having to run for election, he would absolutely not get involved in the presidential election.
After hearing Locke's renewed assurance, Betty smiled and said, "You two go ahead and be busy. Carrie and I are heading back to the office. Remember to keep your lunch break and afternoon free tomorrow for an interview and a simple video recording. Come on, Carrie, let's work overtime tonight to get the copy done."
After Carrie congratulated Locke, she and the urging Betty turned and left.
Although it would be another week before the formal campaign speeches and canvassing began.
But... this was taking advantage of the award-winning opportunity to promote themselves by reporting on the awards.
This was an open strategy.
If you could also bring such an honor to Midtown High School, you too could disregard the rules and build momentum for your own canvassing and election campaign in advance.
Gwen watched Betty and Carrie leave, then turned and smiled at Locke, "Why did you chat with the opposing team captain for so long?"
Locke smiled, "Are you jealous?"
If not out of jealousy, then why would she ask that?
Gwen also smiled, "No one is better than me, Locke. I have confidence in myself."
The word "jealous" wasn't in a top student's dictionary.
And... Gwen looked at Locke with her beautiful big eyes, "Whether I'm jealous or not depends on whether you're tempted, not on me. So, Locke, tell me, were you tempted?"
Locke's eyes were clear. He glanced at the campus reporter with a camera, moving back and forth below the stage, and smiled slightly at Gwen.
The next second.
Locke leaned in, put his arm around Gwen, and kissed her.
The reporter below the stage.
Click, a perfect shot was captured.
The students below the stage, seeing this scene, cheered even louder.
Helen, watching Locke and Gwen kiss, also opened her mouth in surprise.
Beside her, George's face instantly darkened.
On stage.
Locke's kiss was just a light peck. After they separated, he looked at Gwen, who was pressing against his chest, and smiled as he gazed at her exquisite features, filled with confidence in her future: "Before I met you, my heart was still, but after I met you, my heart moved, and it has always maintained a frequency of only beating for you."
He didn't actually have that much desire for women.
If he did, with the money he had now, he could follow in the footsteps of Colin Chester and become a diamond VIP at various clubs in New York.
Gwen didn't pull away. She looked up at Locke, who was looking down at her, "So, is this your confession?"
Locke had never confessed; it seemed they had just naturally gotten together.
Gwen wasn't the type who absolutely needed a confession, but there was still a slight regret.
Now?
Locke's eyes were clear: "Yes, a confession only for you."
Gwen's gaze shifted upwards, as if she was thinking about something, then she looked at Locke, her tone somewhat happy, and she moved out of Locke's embrace: "I hope your marriage proposal is also only for me."
Locke laughed, "It will be. If George agrees today, I'll propose to you tomorrow."
Clearly, this was impossible.
So far, George had only tacitly accepted the situation, not approved of it.
There was a fundamental difference.
Getting George to agree to Locke's proposal would likely be very difficult.
But it was fine.
If George didn't agree, Locke could always create an accident, send George to the hospital for a while, and Helen would definitely agree. Then, after Locke and Gwen's wedding was done, George could be discharged.
By then, the deed would be done, and everything would be perfect.
Gwen, hearing Locke's words, rolled her eyes: "That's your business. I'll be waiting for that day."
Locke nodded, "I promise."
Gwen smiled.
Locke then changed the subject, "During lunch break, Mrs. Cord found me and hoped I could talk to Helen Zhao and her team."
Gwen, hearing Locke's explanation after he changed the subject, smiled, "Mrs. Cord always can't resist students with good grades."
When she was younger, Mrs. Cord herself came to her home and offered a generous scholarship. Although it was less than the Trinity scholarship, the composition of Midtown High's students, along with other promises, ultimately convinced Gwen to come to Midtown.
Fortunately.
This choice was very correct.
Gwen glanced at Locke, thinking to herself...
One Hundred Eighty-Two: My Little Cabbage is Gone
"I'm going to kill him."
"No, you won't."
Below the stage, looking up at the wild boar who stole his prized cabbage, smiling brightly, standing in front of twelve trophies, standing together, hand in hand, posing for a group photo.
George's teeth were itching. Hearing his wife's words, he couldn't help but look at Helen: "I have a hundred ways to make him disappear!"
How many years had he been a Detective? How many bizarre murder cases had he handled during those years?
Countless!
If he abandoned his principles, it would be no exaggeration to say that if he wanted to make someone disappear without a trace, he had a hundred ways to do it.
George sneered, "I can make this wild boar roll far, far away from our World tonight."
Helen, leaning back in her chair, watched her proud daughter on stage with a smile, and... her almost certain son-in-law. Listening to her husband George's statement, she glanced at George: "Because you love your daughter."
George was stunned.
Helen said, "Do you think, after all this, if Locke disappeared, would Gwen be sad? Would she be heartbroken? Can you bear to see your daughter heartbroken?"
One hit kill!
For any father who dotes on his daughter, Helen's words were undoubtedly fatal.
Helen looked at George's expression and let out a laugh.
She had always thought Locke was very good.
Especially after the poseidon incident, Helen felt that if Locke and Gwen could walk together in the future, Gwen would be very happy.
Every mother hopes her daughter can be happy.
Helen especially hoped that this daughter, who had made her proud since childhood, could find happiness. Therefore, Helen did not object to Gwen having a relationship at her best age.
As for George?
Just an old father's awkwardness.
On stage.
After the group photo, the few people entered the small passage through the back door of the stage.
Kahn directly shouted, "Finally, freedom!"
After a month of high-intensity revision, there were a few times when Kahn felt like he couldn't hold on, but each time, he miraculously came back to life as if injected with adrenaline.
But how to put it?
Painful yet happy.
Now?
The dust had settled, and he had won the Grand Slam. It couldn't be said that the mission was 100% completed; it could only be said that the mission was 1000% overfulfilled.
Kahn roared to vent, then suggested to Locke and Matt, "Shall we go to an Under-21 Bar tonight to celebrate?"
Under-21 Bars first originated in Hollywood.
After all, there were more and more celebrities under twenty-one, so to earn money from those celebrities, Under-21 Bars emerged.
These Under-21 Bars were exactly the same as normal bars, except they didn't serve alcohol.
Cindy's eyes lit up, and she looked at Gwen: "Yeah, Gwen, we finally won, let's go have some fun."
She and Kahn went every weekend. After all, in the Federation, being a law-abiding twenty-one-year-old meant there weren't many things to do.
Especially for those who are naturally playful but also law-abiding, it's even more difficult.
This is also why they are keen on various parties and dances, because, apart from these, there are very few other things to do.
Locke and Gwen had been there, not to say they hadn't, but they had gone once or twice with Kahn and Cindy.
However... ever since Locke learned that the Under-21 Bar was a very law-abiding and proper bar, Locke had lost interest.
Who the hell has the time to go to a proper, legitimate bar these days?
"No."
Locke shook his head without thinking: "Find me an improper Under-21 Bar, and I'll go."
Kahn was about to speak.
Not far away.
A voice came.
"I also want to know where there are improper Under-21 Bars on Manhattan Island. Count me in, I want to see them too."
...
Kahn was slightly startled. Pulled by Cindy next to him, he forced a smile, greeted George who was walking over, then gave Locke a look that said 'good luck,' and then, with Cindy and a somewhat silly Matt who seemed to be planning to watch the show, they quickly made their escape.
"Dad?"
Gwen rolled her eyes at Locke, somewhat speechless. Meeting Helen's smiling gaze, she explained to George, whose mood was unreadable, on Locke's behalf: "Dad, you know Locke didn't mean it that way. He was just complaining that since an Under-21 Bar is called a bar, why doesn't it have alcohol?"
Locke naturally greeted Helen.
George's eyebrow twitched.
Where's my gun?
Goodfellas.
This wild boar seems very arrogant because he won the championship today. Is he treating me as air, or does this wild boar think he has already claimed my prized cabbage?
Is he treating me as air?
George felt a moment of déjà vu.
Wait.
Familiar!
That Peerless Assassin also seemed to treat him as air.
Helen spoke up, looking at Locke with a beaming smile: "The competition was wonderful, and the results are great. The High School Alliance Knowledge Competition has been held for nineteen years. Congratulations, Locke, you are the first to win twelve trophies."
Locke was very polite: "Thank you."
Saying that.
Locke glanced at George out of the corner of his eye.
Why didn't he greet George?
It's simple.
George was clearly coming with ill intentions. If he had greeted George just now, he would undoubtedly have been put on the defensive.
However... compared to home games, Locke was actually best at away games, and he could turn unfavorable away games into his home advantage.
After all, of so many assassination missions, it couldn't be said that most of them, but rather all of them, were away games.
Therefore, Locke's experience in away games was far richer than his experience in home games.
Moreover.
His relationship with Gwen, while not exactly acknowledged, could be said to be tacitly approved.
George's displeasure wasn't because of anything else; it was simply because he didn't want his precious daughter to be taken away.
Simply put, George hadn't gotten used to it yet.
It's fine.
After a few more times under George's nose, George would slowly get used to it and change his mindset. Gwen was no longer just his.
Locke was very grateful to George for raising Gwen so well. In the future, when he married Gwen, he would give George a big red envelope.
Speaking of which.
He had already given the betrothal gift.
Thinking about it carefully, the reason George could become a Police Superintendent was precisely because of that Textile Factory ledger, and who gave him that ledger? It was Locke.
So... Locke smiled and looked at George: "Mr. Stacy, today is a day worth celebrating. I plan to invite Gwen to Chester Restaurant for dinner. Would you like to join us to celebrate with Gwen and me?"
George's eyebrow twitched.
Chester Restaurant?
Why didn't you say the full name of the restaurant?
Chesters Lovers Restaurant!
This wild boar is directly attacking him, riding on his face.
This is unbearable.
George coughed, glanced at Locke, then ignored him and looked directly at his precious daughter: "Gwen, your mother bought your favorite Texas steak today, and the hot cocoa is ready. Since you won the championship today, Mom said she wants to celebrate with you properly."
After speaking.
George seemed to give Locke a provocative glance out of the corner of his eye.
Locke maintained a smile.
Gwen heard George's words, asked, "Really?" then hugged Locke's arm: "Then let's tell Mr. Chester that we'll go tomorrow and celebrate at home instead."
Locke nodded: "Okay."
It was no longer just a matter of George's eyebrow twitching.
Gwen said to George, "Dad, you don't know, the nutritional meals we've been eating for the past three days... the taste was just something else."
It's not that it wasn't tasty.
But... nutritional meals focus on nutrition, not taste.
If the nutritional meals prepared in China still had some flavor, then the Federation's nutritional meals, apart from being nutritious, had no other value whatsoever.
Locke smiled beside her: "It's finally over. Fortunately, I initially thought it would last twelve days."
Gwen smiled: "Over? It's just getting started."
Locke looked at Gwen curiously.
Gwen said, "Don't forget, the real battle has just begun. You participated in the competition to run for student body president. Don't put the cart before the horse. Tomorrow, Betty has arranged for us to work on the promotional plan together."
Locke opened his mouth.
Who exactly put the cart before the horse?
I remember I chose to run for election in order to participate in the competition, right?
Participating in the competition was the main goal, and the election was secondary.
Locke paused slightly, then smiled, looked at Gwen, and said confidently, "I like the feeling of winning, and I will keep winning."
Gwen met Locke's gaze, smiling brightly: "Do you know what I like most about you?"
George next to them was almost going crazy.
Goodfellas.
Hey, hey, I'm still standing here!
Helen looked at George, who seemed to have symptoms of ADHD, and tugged at him: "Don't talk."
After speaking.
Helen looked at her future son-in-law and her daughter with the eyes of a mother-in-law, as if they had forgotten everyone else and only had each other in their eyes.
This emotional state, while not perfect, could be described as self-forgetful.
Locke's lips curved upwards, his eyes clear, gazing at the soft lips close by, exhaling like orchids, and he affirmed in a clear tone: "My confidence?"
Gwen shook her head: "You could say that, but actually, what I like most is your blind confidence!"
Locke's lips curved upwards.
Then... Locke lowered his head and leaned towards the soft lips that had just spoken.
Everything seems to be either zero times or countless times. After the first public display of affection, the second time, when the passion is there, they will also get into the mood.
But.
Just as their lips touched.
"Cough, cough, cough!"
"Cough, cough, cough!"
George, whose eyebrow was twitching, coughed repeatedly.
His heart... was broken!!!
183. Helen's Education of Gwen
A white Chevrolet drove ahead.
A silver Audi followed behind.
George, driving the car, gripped the steering wheel tightly, his face devoid of any extra expression, staring intently at the road, his expression very grave.
It's all over, isn't it?
Helen, sitting in the passenger seat, glanced at George: "Darling, haven't we already tacitly agreed to this?"
George said with a stern face: "That's you, not me."
"Then why did you vouch for Lock? Otherwise, how could he have gotten his gun license?"
"I regret it."
"…"
Sh*t!
George had originally thought that since a wild boar had set its sights on his prized cabbage and had already arrived, and it seemed to have good fur and physique, he could try to see if he could turn the wild boar into a domestic pig.
But what was the result?
Not only was this wild boar unwilling to become a domestic pig, but it also ignored him, the gardener, and, right in front of him, brazenly uprooted the prized cabbage he had painstakingly raised for sixteen years.
Then, it squealed, pushed him aside, and was determined to break out with his little cabbage.
MMP!
Why did I apply for a gun license for him?
Asking for trouble!
Again, I'm a police inspector, so even if something happens, I'll investigate myself.
Thinking of the established fact that his daughter had already been abducted by this wild boar, George felt completely distraught. As a doting father, he had even abandoned his bottom line and his position.
Helen shook her head speechlessly at George's words.
However, for safety's sake, Helen still said, "Let's postpone Lock's hunting trip with your old comrade. We'll all go together when they're on summer vacation."
George glanced at Helen: "Are we taking little George and them too?"
Helen shook her head: "No, send them to my mom and let her watch them for a few days."
George: "…"
Good heavens.
It wasn't just that his prized cabbage had been taken away; the mistress of the house had also been won over by that wild boar.
Abandoning even his three sons for an outsider?
George felt a pang of sadness in his heart.
In the Audi behind.
Gwen, like Helen, was also somewhat speechless towards the driver.
Lock controlled the steering wheel with one hand, while with the other, he looked at the newly acquired gun license with his photo on it.
George had previously mentioned getting Lock a gun license.
Lock had originally thought George was just talking, but he didn't expect him to actually get it.
Nice!
Gwen asked curiously, "It's just a gun license. You and Dad have been to the shooting range so many times. Is it really that rare?"
Federal shooting ranges are not like those in some countries where there are strict rules on how to shoot. They are outdoor shooting ranges where you can choose the range's weapons or bring your own, from handguns to flamethrowers, everything is available.
Lock shook his head, then nodded again.
A gun license is indeed not rare.
After all, as long as you're old enough and don't have a criminal record, you can apply for one. It's usually not held up, and you can successfully apply and then purchase a weapon.
But… Lock was definitely not old enough, so, for Lock, it was very rare.
And!
For others, a gun license is merely proof of legal gun ownership, but for Lock, its meaning is far more profound.
Simply put.
For Lock, a gun license could be described as a license to kill.
Yes.
If Lock had a gun license when Megan Vassey invaded his apartment, then it definitely wouldn't have been the Peerless Assassin who killed Megan Vassey.
Because Lock would have dealt with it himself, without worrying about any repercussions.
The Castle Doctrine and Stand Your Ground laws covered and protected him.
But Lock didn't have a gun license at the time. If he had opened fire, then S.H.I.E.L.D. could have legitimately used the gun license issue to cause trouble for Lock if they wanted revenge.
To avoid leaving this exploitable loophole for S.H.I.E.L.D., the Peerless Assassin came out to handle it at the time.
Now?
With a gun license, he could do many things himself, and better separate the Peerless Assassin from himself once again.
As for why his marksmanship was so good?
He was a Texan, and George was also an excellent witness to his rapid improvement in marksmanship. As long as his bullets didn't blatantly curve, then there would be no problem.
"Oh, right."
"What?"
Lock looked at Gwen, his eyes lighting up: "Gwen, what do you think, should I buy a Beretta or a Glock?"
Gwen was slightly stunned, then gave Lock a big, beautiful eye-roll!
After a while.
In the apartment.
Dinner was lavish.
After dinner, Lock and George went to the living room sofa and watched the new episode of a hunting show on TV.
George took a sip of whiskey from his glass, then seemed to glance at Lock.
Lock, sitting next to him, watched the TV intently.
Never mind.
Considering the gun license, Lock decided to give George a pass this time.
Gwen was helping Helen clear the dishes.
Helen arranged the dishes Gwen handed her one by one and put them into the dishwasher, then said, "If you get a grand slam in this knowledge competition, the student council president election should be a sure thing."
Gwen had also mentioned to them Lock's desire to run for student council president.
This is a good thing.
Helen had originally thought that Lock, being so wealthy, might not have much ambition. In fact, Lock's previous performance was exactly like that; he seemed to just follow behind Gwen.
Helen had this misconception before, and while Helen thought it was good, at least it proved that Lock wanted to spend more time with Gwen.
But… they are only seventeen now, what about the future? Although Lock is wealthy and seems to have a family fund with annual dividends and such.
But Helen still felt that men, more or less, still need to have their own careers.
She hadn't said anything before because it wasn't her place to speak.
Now?
It's good to have ambition.
But… Helen looked at Gwen's expression, then glanced at the living room not far away, and pulled the kitchen glass door shut: "Didn't you say before that winning the championship would pretty much guarantee it?"
Gwen shook her head: "Sam Malik withdrew from the election, so now it's just Lock and Nina Bell."
Helen frowned: "Did Malik make a deal with Lock's competitor?"
Elections are also a business.
It's normal for me to withdraw and choose to support you.
Gwen laughed out loud: "If that were the case, it wouldn't change the outcome. Sam Malik supported Lock, and Lock accepted."
Helen was confused: "Malik was recruited by Lock, this is a good thing, right?"
Gwen smiled: "Lock said the same thing at the time."
Helen turned off the dishwasher, started it, and turned on the faucet to wash her hands: "Isn't it? I heard before that Sam Malik also had high approval ratings. If he chooses to support Lock's campaign, then this election has no suspense."
Gwen's mouth twitched: "Sam Malik was exposed as a racist."
Helen was slightly stunned, wiped her hands, and looked at Gwen.
Gwen shrugged: "And Nina Bell's skin color, you know. The worst part is that Lock's home is in the Star Tower!"
Helen was slightly surprised, then also frowned: "This is indeed a bit troublesome, but what did Lock say?"
Gwen spread her hands: "You know Lock, he's always very confident. Although I really want to say he's blindly confident, so far, I haven't found any precedents, so I can only say he has a mysterious confidence!"
The capsizing of the Poseidon was an opportunity to prove Lock's blind confidence.
But unfortunately.
Lock, by his own power, rescued all of them completely, proving that what Gwen had thought was blind confidence at the time was not blind, but a mysterious confidence!
This made Gwen quite helpless.
Upon hearing Gwen's words, Helen's brows relaxed, and she smiled: "Then what are you worried about?"
Gwen looked up: "Mom, this is a racial issue, isn't it?"
If it's not handled well, not only might the election fail, but it could also cause a lot of trouble.
Helen, however, didn't think that way.
"How about the FBI?"
"Uh…"
"How about Homeland Security?"
"This…"
"How about the Wrath of Poseidon?"
"…"
The Wrath of Poseidon refers to the nickname given by federal citizens to the Poseidon incident at the beginning of the year. Some superstitious people on the internet said that it was because the name of the Poseidon offended Poseidon, the god of the sea.
Helen smiled: "Even Homeland Security agents impersonating FBI couldn't get the better of Lock, and even paid Lock a large sum of money. Moreover, the Wrath of Poseidon didn't make Lock back down. For a mere election, since Lock is very confident, then you should also believe in Lock. After all, you are his girlfriend, and so far, Lock's confidence has been well-founded, hasn't it? Besides, what if he loses? Are you going to break up with him?"
Gwen came to her senses: "Mom!"
Helen smiled at the chiding Gwen and said, "Before your boyfriend loses, what you should do is believe in him and support him. If he loses, he loses, so what? What else can happen?"
Gwen looked at Helen and nodded thoughtfully.
While the mother and daughter were talking in the kitchen.
Similar conversations were actually taking place on the living room sofa.
As a frontline officer in New York City, George, upon hearing Lock mention Nina Bell, frowned, and after hearing about her skin color, immediately understood: "So it's the Bell family."
Lock raised an eyebrow and looked at George: "You know them?"
That's not right.
George, like him, didn't have any black friends.
Did I misjudge George?
A white liberal right by my side??
184. Message from George
Yes.
Locke was quite pleased that George had no black friends.
However, even if he did, Locke wouldn't care. After all, what kind of friends George made was his business, not Locke's.
Locke was dating Gwen, not George.
George not having any black friends was, at most, a bonus.
Hmm.
A bonus that meant double the dowry.
But right now?
He must have been mistaken.
Locke watched George get up from the sofa, thinking to himself that if George were a white liberal, Locke would consider trying to avoid coming here in the future.
After all, white liberalism was a plague, the kind that was contagious.
A moment later.
George had a glass of whiskey in his hand: "Here."
Locke raised an eyebrow, watched George hand him the whiskey, stood up, took it, and then looked at George curiously: "Does this count as entrapment?"
"It does, but would you not drink it?"
"No, I wouldn't."
George heard Locke's sincere reply, was silent for a moment, then sat down and adjusted his tie: "The original intention of this law was to reduce car accidents caused by drinking, and besides, this place is probably more familiar to you than your own apartment, isn't it?"
At the very least, he didn't know the password to Locke's safe, but Locke knew his.
Shit, that wild boar's apartment, the kitchen's decor and furnishings are probably still brand new.
"Drink less."
"I will."
Locke smiled, raised his glass, clinked it with George's, and glanced at the bottle of whiskey on the table, which was still two-thirds full.
Good.
You're out.
George took a sip of his drink: "Are Nina Bell's parents named Manolo and Jones?"
Locke nodded: "Yes, do you really know them?"
George chuckled, taking another sip of his drink: "The Bells, old acquaintances. Do you know how the Bell family, who were refugees at the time, settled in New York City?"
"Is there a story?"
"Hmm."
George nodded, looking at Locke: "We paid for it!"
Locke: "..."
Well, I'll be.
Locke almost thought George was a white liberal.
To be precise, it was the NYPD that paid for it.
Back when George first became a police officer, the air in New York was sweet. Black people, when they saw them, had to obediently raise their hands. Forget baring their teeth, they didn't even dare to make a cheeky remark. The community was pure and clean, without any filth.
But... white liberalism was quietly rising at that time. It seemed to start when a Washington D.C. councilwoman discovered she could win votes by relying on black people.
In simple terms.
The Bell family, who were refugees and undocumented immigrants at the time, marched with a group of people, trying to fight for their civil rights. Then, Nina Bell's brother accidentally died in a riot.
Originally, the Bell family were refugees, and undocumented ones at that, so they had no status. If he died, he died. Countless people with status died in New York City every day; he wasn't special.
But... George shook his head: "A politician from Washington D.C., through some means, directly changed their status. Plus, the judge at the time was a Democrat, relatively kind. In short, the environment wasn't very good at the time. For this, the NYPD had no choice but to settle out of court and gave the Bell family a sum of money."
But it seems that ever since then, the Bell family has gotten a taste for it.
Let me put it this way.
In these past few years, whenever there's a hint of a "zero-dollar shopping" incident in New York City, the Bell family is almost certainly involved.
Locke raised an eyebrow: "And they're still around after that?"
Why keep such trash? Are they saving it for the New Year?
His consistent virtue was his ability to empathize.
If there was a black person so blatantly provoking him, let alone saving them for the New Year, if Locke let that person live past tonight, it would mean Locke was incompetent.
George shook his head: "It's not that simple."
The NYPD certainly wouldn't let them stick around. After that, they tried to cause trouble for the Bell family from all directions.
But with little success.
No matter what trouble you caused, the Bell family would immediately file a discrimination lawsuit in court. Parking violations? Discrimination. Not using a turn signal? Discrimination.
In short… George looked at Locke: "The Bell family is a piece of shit, you understand what I mean, right?"
Locke nodded.
Clearly.
George was subtly telling him to be careful of Nina Bell playing the discrimination card. After all, from a certain perspective, the Bell family had become the vanguard of civil rights fighters in the eyes of New York's black community.
Moreover.
Locke's apartment building was called Star Tower, a thorn in the side of New York's black community.
Locke smiled.
"George, do you know why you lost?"
"Hmm?"
"Because you're the NYPD, and I'm not."
Locke listened to George's warning, nodded, then looked at George and smiled: "I have a team of lawyers. If anyone slanders my reputation, my legal team will get me justice."
Nina Bell better not play the discrimination card.
Otherwise… Locke had a hundred and ninety-nine ways to ruin the Bell family.
A Washington D.C. councilwoman backing them?
Heh.
Locke had money. If he wanted to, he could buy himself five congressmen to speak for him.
George looked at the smile on Locke's face and said nothing. He had already said what he could. Finishing the drink in his glass: "Our guest room is practically your bedroom now."
Saying that.
George stood up, then looked at the empty whiskey bottle on the table, his brow twitching.
Locke smiled beside him: "Thanks, it was delicious. Do you have any more?"
George: "..."
The next day.
After Locke and Gwen finished breakfast at home, they first helped Helen drop off eleven-year-old Little George and six-year-old Mark at school, then turned and headed towards Midtown High School.
"At noon, we're going to the print shop to check the poster's effect."
"Okay."
"And the campaign badges. Let's stop by and take a look after school."
"Mhm."
"Oh, by the way, have you finished writing your speech?"
"..."
Gwen, sitting in the passenger seat, had transformed into a proper campaign manager, confirming matters related to the election starting in a few days. While talking, seeing that she hadn't received a response from Locke, she looked up at him.
Gwen looked at Locke's profile as he watched her, and was slightly startled: "What's wrong?"
Locke shook his head: "Nothing, I just feel like you're a little different."
"What?"
"Yesterday you told me to be on high alert, but today, you seem very relaxed."
"Because I have faith in you."
"..."
You weren't like this before last night.
Locke thought to himself.
Gwen flashed a brilliant smile and said: "I'm your girlfriend. All I need to do is believe in you. Didn't you say the same thing on stage yesterday?"
"...Alright."
Locke felt that this answer wasn't the correct one, but, no matter what, it was good that the outcome was positive.
Turn off the engine.
Get out of the car.
Gwen got out of the passenger seat, pulling her backpack: "You still haven't said anything about the speech. Do you need me to take a look?"
"No need."
Locke looked at Gwen: "Because I haven't written it yet."
He really hadn't written it.
Because, he didn't know what to write?
Besides.
The students at Midtown High didn't want to hear so much empty talk. He would just go up there and say that he wouldn't abandon the sports party just because he was part of the academic party; he would treat everyone equally.
Then, coupled with how handsome he was.
What did he need a speech for? Besides, Locke didn't have that much free time to tinker with that stuff.
Gwen was slightly startled. Just as she was about to be speechless, she seemed to remember something and showed a slight smile: "If you haven't written it, you haven't written it. I believe in you."
Locke was shocked!
You're not my Gwen; my Gwen isn't like this.
Any confidence does not come out of thin air.
Locke's confidence came from his player status and his cheats. So, whether facing Hydra or SHIELD, even when the Poseidon sank, Locke never showed a trace of panic or fear.
Gwen's confidence, on the other hand, came from her meticulous planning for every single thing, ensuring that all preparations were flawless, a confidence born from thorough preparation.
And a speech, not even written, undoubtedly did not conform to Gwen's rules of confidence.
So... what exactly happened?
Locke looked at Gwen thoughtfully, his memory palace, the memories of returning to Gwen's apartment yesterday, unfolded. Then, Locke looked at Gwen suspiciously: "Did Helen say something to you?"
Gwen shook her head: "No, I just figured it out myself."
"What?"
"So far, Locke, your confidence hasn't been proven to be blind confidence."
Gwen hugged her backpack, flicked her ponytail, and looked at Locke with a confident expression, saying: "So, until your mysterious confidence experiences failure, I will believe in you. Besides, it's just a campus election. If you lose, you lose. We can just try again next year."
Locke was surprised!
Then, Locke smiled: "I won't lose."
Losing would mean his undefeated golden aura was broken.
Locke would never let that happen. If necessary, he would take all unconventional measures to prevent it.
Gwen nodded: "I know. I have faith in you, future President Broughton."
Locke: "..."
This felt like another blatant jinx.
The knowledge competition that just ended yesterday was also full of jinxes. In fact, if Locke hadn't been cheating, haha, the winner should have been the Avengers from Brooklyn High School.
This time?
Locke felt that it seemed he would have to cheat again...