Ch: 208-215
Chapter 208: My Name is Cain
In the evening.
The group visited the sheriff who was hospitalized in the town's hospital.
The sheriff's wife was also there. Upon learning that Irene had provided emergency bandaging and held him over until the paramedics arrived, she pulled her five-year-old son and three-year-old daughter to thank Irene profusely.
Her excitement and relief were undisguised.
Gwen watched this scene and said to Locke with a smile, "This is why Mom and I support Dad being a Police Officer."
Locke smiled.
After everyone finished dinner and returned to the hunting lodge, the Department of Homeland Security personnel had already moved some equipment into the lobby.
Rebecca and her husband had also temporarily moved into a lodge Room. They would leave together tomorrow, but her husband would stay behind to prevent the Department of Homeland Security from stripping the place bare when they left.
Late at night.
Locke opened his eyes, glanced at Gwen who was sleeping soundly beside him, and carefully got out of bed.
His Clone pushed open the bathroom door and went inside.
Locke, relying on his Concealment Technique, didn't make a sound. He didn't even alert the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents who were busy patrolling and working in the middle of the night as he made his way into the deserted forest.
After all, even if it was a Clone, it was fine for it to sit on the sofa with Gwen, but Locke still felt a bit uncomfortable with the Clone sleeping in the same bed as her.
He looked up.
A bright moon seemed to hang on the treetops, as if he could reach out and grasp it.
Locke reached out his right hand... wait.
I'm a damn Kindred, not a werewolf; I don't need to worship the moon.
Locke came to his senses and couldn't help but laugh.
"Switch!"
Buzz!
Instantly.
Locke's eyes narrowed slightly. In his sea of consciousness, a steady stream of energy surged wildly, transforming into the purest dark power that spread throughout his body.
His skin gradually turned pale, but it only made him look more handsome.
His pupils seemed to bleed from azure into a deep, crimson red.
Even.
His physique gradually shifted toward a leaner build, yet his physical strength didn't diminish at all; if anything, it seemed to have grown much stronger.
Locke opened his status panel.
Identity: Kindred
Level: Emperor (You have created a brand new identity, undoubtedly an Emperor)
Introduction: "Kindred are not Vampires. Kindred do not need blood and are even unafraid of sunlight. Now, you can convert Kindred who belong only to you and are loyal to you."
"..."
Locke raised an eyebrow.
That's it?
Such a short introduction?
Locke extended his hands, and sharp claws like talons gradually extended. He felt that these claws could easily slice through steel like cutting tofu.
With a flick of his right hand.
A mirror appeared in Locke's hand.
He looked closer.
Locke looked at his reflection in the mirror—feminine features, pale face, red eyes, and even a pair of sharp fangs when he grinned. He raised an eyebrow.
With this appearance, if Locke didn't know better, he suspected that even if his Clone stood next to him, people would think they were completely unrelated.
"Huh?"
Locke's eyes lit up. He rubbed the two fangs he had bared under the moonlight with his finger. "I suddenly have a bold idea."
What's the first rule of the underworld?
Lü Zi once said that when roaming the World, alt accounts are very important.
So.
Locke had used the system-produced sunglasses to construct an 'Assassin Peerless' that didn't actually exist and only appeared when he wore the glasses.
And now?
"Let me think."
Locke stared at the Vampire version of himself in the mirror, stroking his chin as he brainstormed. "The first alt is Wushuang; after all, it's more exciting for an assassin to play the Wushuang style. The second alt is a Vampire, so I need to pick a very fitting codename. I can't be sloppy."
It's just like playing the field.
If you make up a fake name on a whim and wake up the next day saying a different one, wouldn't you be exposed?
Of course.
Locke's Memory Palace wouldn't make such a mistake, but if it could be avoided, it should be.
"Got it!"
Locke's eyes lit up as he thought of the topic he had discussed with Gwen that afternoon. "Cain. Kindred, Cain—it's very fitting!"
What?
Gwen said the Bible has no evidence of Cain being a Vampire.
That's true.
Cain isn't a Vampire, but he is a Kindred.
Perfect.
Another alt account.
And most importantly, Locke now didn't need to switch to his Witch identity to use the Kindred power converted from endless energy.
Boom!
Instantly.
Locke vanished from the spot and appeared 300 meters away in an instant. An afterimage at his original position was slowly fading and disappearing.
This was still Locke holding back. After all, if he ran at full speed, he would probably break the sound barrier. Although S.H.I.E.L.D. was nothing special, they hadn't provoked him yet, and Locke didn't want to go looking for trouble.
Then there were the six senses!
Locke closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly. Instantly, all the surrounding sounds, even the hidden noises within the mountain, were captured by him.
As for the hunting lodge, even though it was a full 1.5 kilometers away, he could hear everything clearly.
For example, the report from Natasha Romanoff and Barbara Morse as they contacted S.H.I.E.L.D.
"Did you find him?"
"James."
Natasha's voice was crystal clear to Locke. "A stray Vampire, captured six months ago. For some reason, he didn't resist, but after being sentenced, he entered prison. Two months ago, the warden found that he had bitten several inmates to death and kept him in solitary confinement ever since. The warden was afraid it would affect the prison's business and didn't report it, which is why we didn't discover it immediately."
Many prisons in the U.S. are privately contracted and operated. If an inmate dies for no reason, although there won't be much punishment, business will drop significantly.
It's a business, and the goal is to make money.
Since they were inmates anyway, it was more cost-effective to spend a little money to settle with the families and fake a medical history of sudden illness than to ask politicians for help as lobbyists after the incident came out.
"Did you find him?"
"We're looking."
"We've checked the surveillance around the Lake Kali mountains and haven't found any trace of James. He's still in the mountains. We've already cordoned them off."
S.H.I.E.L.D. might have less experience dealing with other things, but they had quite a bit of experience with Vampires. Under their efforts, although Vampires occasionally appeared in the ordinary World, they were controlled quite well.
This was also one of Nick Fury's favorite things to boast about.
If it weren't for the Vampire situation, Nick Fury would never have been able to ascend to the position of Director, even with the support of the former Director and current Councilor Alexander Pierce.
Locke listened to the conversation of the S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel.
James?
He went through his Memory Palace, found the photo posted in the county police station's meeting Room, and matched the photo with the name.
Then... just as Locke was about to deactivate his Kindred identity, he raised an eyebrow as he scanned a Room.
That was Irene's Room.
In the Room.
Irene seemed to be groaning—not a groan of pleasure, but a suppressed, painful, and extremely uncomfortable sound.
It was obvious.
Her addiction was acting up again.
Locke shook his head and deactivated his Kindred identity.
After a while.
Locke returned to the hunting lodge, holding a bottle of purple potion in his hand.
Antidote: Can cure all poisons!
This was something Locke had bought to stock up on when the Treasure Shop was having a sale. After all, it's better to be safe than sorry; Locke preferred to plan ahead.
Addiction was also a poison.
Nothing to be done.
Who told me to be so kind-hearted?
Locke was thinking this as he prepared to sneak back and pour it into Irene after she finally struggled into sleep. Just then, a car engine started, and a black Ford pickup was let through by the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents on night patrol, heading toward the nearby county seat.
What's the situation?
Locke watched Irene from afar as she sat in the Ford, catching a glimpse of her as she passed, and was slightly stunned.
No way.
Did she fail at the last moment and couldn't hold on?
Locke raised an eyebrow, thinking this as he looked toward the hunting lodge and then at Irene, who was speeding away as if in a hurry to buy something. His eyes flickered slightly.
No.
Locke gazed in the direction Irene was heading and blinked.
That wasn't the direction to the county seat, but... toward the reservoir at the foot of the mountain?
Good grief.
Is she going to throw herself into the river?
Surely not.
Locke was slightly stunned.
He was dumbfounded.
It would have been fine if I hadn't seen it.
But I saw it, and I was even planning to cure you. I've already shown my kindness, and you go and run off to drown yourself? What do you mean by that? Are you looking down on me?
Most importantly.
We're going back tomorrow. If you're going to jump into a river, can't you wait until you get back? If we wake up tomorrow and find you gone, won't that delay us here for several days?
Locke thought with some exasperation. If that really happened, should he stay to help look for her or not?
Ultimately, I'm just too kind-hearted.
Locke inwardly condemned his angelic heart. Then, transforming into a Kindred, he quickly chased after Irene without breaking the sound barrier or affecting anyone else. He locked onto her scent with his powerful six senses, as her taillights were already almost out of sight.
Just as Locke disappeared.
A cute-looking Little Bat, not ugly at all and even a bit adorable, was flying in the sky. It watched the black shadow below, its round, human-like eyes filled with fixed attention.
"Is he the fiancé Mom mentioned in her diary?"
209. No One Can Stop Me from Doing Good Deeds
Boom!
After confirming he had left the Hunter's Lodge, Locke exerted his power directly. Instantly, like a sudden roll of muffled thunder, with a whoosh, Locke vanished from the spot.
The little bat flying in the sky gave a strange cry, flapping its wings hard to ensure it wasn't sucked into the vortex created in that instant.
"What?"
Erin, who was struggling against the endless discomfort and longing, suddenly narrowed her eyes. Seeing a figure appearing directly in her path, she slammed on the brakes: "Screech!"
The Ford pickup truck braked urgently.
Then... just as it was about to hit Locke, it came to a steady halt.
Erin broke into a cold sweat. Even the deep-seated discomfort and longing temporarily vanished under the rush of adrenaline in that moment.
But... as Erin looked at Locke under the headlights—pale-faced, eyes blood-red, dressed in a suit, and even revealing two sexy fangs when he smiled—her heart chilled. No matter how she looked at him, he seemed exactly like a Vampire.
A Vampire even higher-ranking than the ones she had seen at Lake Kali?
Here for revenge?
Erin's right hand grabbed the handgun sitting on the passenger seat.
Locke watched Erin's movements, unconcerned.
"Get out of the car."
"..."
Locke spoke, changing his voice once again. It was colder than Locke's voice and cooler than Wushuang's. The voice was eerie and cold; to anyone else, it sounded exactly like the voice of a truly cold-blooded person.
Inside the car, Erin raised an eyebrow.
The next second.
Erin floored the gas pedal.
Get out?
At a time like this, only someone with no IQ would get out and seek death after seeing Locke's appearance.
But!
Clang!
"What?"
Vroom!
Erin had the gas pedal floored, and the Ford pickup's engine was roaring to its limit. However, the four wheels were stuck in place, unable to turn at all, simply because Locke had one hand pressed against the hood.
"What..."
Bang!
Erin's eyes widened. A muffled bang erupted from the hood of the Ford pickup, and then, billowing white smoke surged out from around the edges of the hood.
The white smoke billowed, instantly forming a thick fog.
Soon.
Once the white smoke cleared, Erin, still in the car, widened her eyes again. Looking at the scene where someone who should have been in front of the car was now gone—a scene straight out of a horror movie—she frowned deeply.
"He's playing with me!"
"No, I'm not!"
"Wha—"
Shing!
Locke suddenly appeared in the passenger seat, giving Erin a start. However, just as Erin raised the gun in her hand, sharp claws were already at her eyeball: "Don't move."
Erin froze instantly.
Locke didn't blame Erin at all. On the contrary, her attempt to start the car just now showed that her IQ was functioning. In that situation, getting out of the car would definitely lead to no good.
Clang!
Locke turned his other hand into a claw and swiped across the handgun in Erin's hand. Instantly, the barrel was sliced in two, one piece falling to the floor with a crisp clang.
The next second.
Locke tossed the Antidote to Erin, his tone the same as before: "Open it and drink it."
"In your dreams."
"..."
Locke looked at Erin, who was glaring at him.
The latter said coldly, "Kill me if you have the— mmmph!"
Before she could finish.
Locke didn't feel like wasting words. Seizing the moment Erin opened her mouth, he moved like lightning, uncapped the Antidote, and poured it all directly into her mouth.
Wanting to jump into a river to commit suicide and not give me the chance to do a good deed?
Heh.
Nice try.
No one can stop what he wants to do.
Erin coughed repeatedly. After Locke let go, she even opened the car door and ran outside, dry-heaving, trying to spit out the liquid that had dissolved instantly upon entry.
But... it was a futile effort.
Tears welled up in Erin's eyes. She had just wanted to come to the reservoir here and jump in, using the water to cool down so that, at the very least, it wouldn't be so painful when the drug addiction kicked in.
"Damn it."
Erin turned around angrily, looking at Locke as he unhurriedly stepped out from the passenger side, and yelled, "What did you give me?"
"Something good."
Locke gazed toward the reservoir, in the direction the wind was blowing, and said without looking back, "Now, go. Leave this place if you don't want to die."
As he spoke.
Locke accepted the task that had been hanging there, which he hadn't chosen to take yet.
[Ding!]
[Task accepted successfully: Interview with the Vampire!]
He hadn't originally wanted to take this task. After all, he was leaving tomorrow. If he took the task and couldn't complete it, having it hang in the task bar forever would be an eyesore no matter how he looked at it.
As a professional player, Locke always liked to complete a task as soon as he took it. Otherwise, he would feel uncomfortable and awkward all over.
And now?
The news brought by the wind.
Three Vampires, along with the scent of blood, were rapidly approaching. Locke could even hear the sound of those three traveling in a messy, fast-paced manner.
In that case, Locke couldn't be blamed.
It was the same old saying.
Locke gave everyone a way out every time, but unfortunately, so far, not a single person had taken it.
To reject a gift from heaven is to invite disaster!
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
Along with sounds like ghostly wails, there followed a stench that was foul to the extreme. Behind the stench were the three rogue Vampires who seemed to appear abruptly in front of them.
The one in the middle was none other than that escaped prisoner, James.
Erin, standing a few paces behind Locke, looked at the scene with some shock.
"No need to be shocked. It was traded for with a soul."
Locke said without looking back, then: "Now, go. If you don't want to die, don't look back."
It was the same old saying.
The law of this Universe is exchange.
Vampires belong to the supernatural, and naturally, they cannot escape this law. Vampires trade away their souls in exchange for a certain kind of power.
Unlike a deal with a devil where the soul goes to the devil.
When a Vampire dies, they are just dead.
No soul.
Because the moment they became a Vampire, their soul, as payment, was already taken away. Therefore, they need to drink blood to maintain a certain... living characteristic?
Behind him, Erin seemed to have frozen.
"Not leaving yet?"
"..."
Erin snapped out of it, looked at the three Vampires who were revealing hideous smiles with residual blood on their lips, and then turned around, preparing to leave quickly.
Just then.
"Thinking of running?"
Boom!
A rogue Vampire licked the corner of his mouth, and then, with a boom, vanished from the spot. When he reappeared, he had already bypassed Locke.
The next second.
Crack!
Ahhh!!!!
Locke tilted his head, looking at the rogue Vampire he had caught with his left hand as it was about to chase Erin. His handsome face was filled with great confusion: "I'm standing right here... can't you see me?"
This could be considered starting from scratch.
Locke suddenly remembered that back when he first walked under the name of Wushuang, everyone also treated him as if he were transparent. Later on, those who received his notices tried everything they could to play hide-and-seek with him, never daring to ignore him again. Even if he didn't speak, no one dared to slight him.
And now?
In his two years in Texas, although he had only taken over thirty jobs, he had built a formidable reputation with the blood of nearly two hundred people. After all, those drug dealers couldn't be without subordinates; one drug dealer came standard with ten subordinates. By the time he had killed over twenty targets, his formidable reputation was already established.
So, he didn't know if there were even two hundred Vampires in this World.
Otherwise... the name of this alt account, Cain, probably wouldn't become famous.
What's the use of an alt account that isn't famous?
It would be meaningless.
As soon as the thought occurred, a task popped up.
[Ding!]
[Task generating!]
[Task: "In My Name, Cain!"]
[Base Task Rewards: "1,000 achievement points", "1,000 potential points", "Discount Treasure Refresh Card (15% price, depending on completion)"]
[Task Multiplier Rule: "Influence Mode!"]
[Accept/Decline!]
Locke raised an eyebrow.
The Vampire being held up by the neck in Locke's left hand showed a ferocious light. Its entire face turned into a bat face, hissing at Locke, fangs exposed along with saliva.
But... Splat!
Locke's left claws appeared instantly, and in a flash, the head was separated from the body.
"Disgusting."
Locke flicked his right hand and took out a handkerchief. Like an elegant gentleman, he wiped the filth from his left hand—though there actually was none; he just felt grossed out.
"Roar!"
The rogue Vampire on the right had already roared and lunged forward the moment it saw its companion being caught.
By the time it saw its companion's neck being sliced and wanted to turn back, it was too late.
With a bang.
Once again, it crashed straight into Locke's left hand.
Comfortable.
Locke looked down at the head rolling on the dirt ground and wiped his left hand, thinking to himself.
Although his name wasn't famous and some people ignored him.
But this actually had a benefit: when his name wasn't famous, there would always be some fools who would blindly crash into his hands. Just like when he was starting his business, he didn't need to put in much effort—just send out a notice and then go to their door to kill them.
Actually, the hide-and-seek mode was more time-consuming.
In the first year, Locke took twenty jobs, but in the second year, he only took ten.
This was the reason.
Most of the time in the second year was actually spent looking for people.
So, having a weak reputation has disadvantages but also advantages; having a strong reputation has advantages but also disadvantages.
However... if Locke had to choose.
He would still choose to have a strong reputation...
Chapter 210: Mavis is online
"Reason?"
Locke never liked playing the pig to eat the tiger. Creating a new account was a different matter. After all, you couldn't have your cake and eat it too, but Locke wanted to try.
He wanted it all.
Points from studying, and then points from other areas. Otherwise, when would he ever accumulate one hundred million points?
So... Locke wiped his left hand clean, looked up, and saw the last one.
The nomadic vampire, James.
"Alright."
Locke waved at James, his tone cool but clearly in a good mood: "Come here, it'll be quick, and it won't hurt at all, I promise."
Since the other party was so straightforward, he would certainly return the favor.
Unlike those groups in Texas in their second year, they were incredibly good at hiding. It infuriated him so much that after he found them, he played a few mini-games on the spot just to alleviate a tiny bit of his frustration.
James's mouth twitched.
His fangs were fully exposed.
Like a porcupine with its quills bristling!
All vampires possessed a unique special ability, and his was that he was a skilled tracker, able to sense his prey's most likely movements in advance.
But... James looked at Locke before him, completely unable to predict or sense what Locke's next move would be.
This was unscientific.
"Who... are you?"
"Cain!"
Locke raised an eyebrow, thinking, *Here it comes*, the classic death question-and-answer segment, and also the first shot to make his name known: "My name is Cain!"
James frowned. Although his appearance was rather perfunctory, and even his attire was casual, his intelligence was indeed normal, and he naturally knew what the name Cain represented.
"You're playing... what?"
James snapped back to reality the moment he realized it might be a fake name. But before he could finish speaking, a gust of wind swept by, and then, Locke, who had been two hundred meters away, was suddenly standing right in front of him.
The next second.
James's pupils constricted, and just as he was about to make a quick escape, he felt his neck tighten: "Ugh..."
He was already being held aloft by Locke, who had him by the neck with one hand.
Locke looked up at James, who was suspended in the air, and began to chant: "When you go to hell, remember to mention my name, Cain. Perhaps the Lord of Hell... Never mind, you won't be going to hell anyway."
James instantly felt a looming crisis: "No..."
Thud!
"Thump!"
Locke dropped the headless corpse from his hand, looked at the body that instantly stiffened, and clicked his tongue twice. Feeling no soul, not even a fragment of a soul emerging, he shook his head: "Sure enough, even vampires are no exception; they always like to make last-minute efforts. But why don't you know how to avoid risks, or at least mend the fold after the sheep are gone?"
Everyone he killed always liked to utter the classic "No..." at the end.
Over the years, he had never seen anyone who was tough when facing him and remained a tough guy even at the very end.
That's not right.
Cross was one.
Locke looked up, thinking to himself that Cross had not uttered a single word of surrender when he died.
"Sigh."
Locke thought of Cross and shook his head again: "If you hadn't stolen my prey, we actually could have been friends."
Recalling his past with Cross, Locke sighed and shook his head.
Then.
He turned around.
His gaze fell on Irene, who had fainted at some point, and on the young girl—no, the vampire girl—who was hiding behind that tree, holding a wooden stick, and dressed and styled very much like a certain Canadian punk princess, appearing to be about sixteen or seventeen years old.
Mavis held the wooden stick in her hand, looked at Locke, whose gaze had fallen on her from not far away, and stuck out her little tongue: "Sorry, I didn't mean to knock her out. She saw me transform, and Dad told me not to let humans see us."
No killing intent.
In fact... there wasn't even a hint of blood.
And!
Locke also detected a trace of a witch's aura on this vampire who called herself Mavis.
Vampire and witch?
Locke tilted his head, deep in thought. Just as he was about to speak, he raised an eyebrow, and with a whoosh, appeared in front of Mavis, then grabbed her directly and vanished from the spot.
A moment later.
Just as several Ford SUVs were approaching, a shadow quickly appeared where Locke had just been. Then, after picking up a head, it vanished like a ghost.
Ten seconds later.
The first Ford SUV arrived at the scene. The doors opened, and several SHIELD agents, disguised as Homeland Security agents, clicked and loaded their specially made silver bullets into their magazines.
Thud!
Thud!
Following closely behind were Black Widow Natasha Romanoff and Mockingbird Barbara Morse, who had arrived in two separate cars.
But... after getting out of their cars, Natasha Romanoff and Barbara Morse looked at the stalled Ford pickup not far away, then at the three headless bodies on the ground, and the heads, full of shock and disbelief, that had rolled to the side. They couldn't help but exchange glances.
Just ten minutes ago, according to regulations, the people responsible for guarding this place were supposed to respond with a password. To ensure no accidents, they were required to report back every ten minutes.
As a result, even with the ten-minute check, an accident still occurred.
However, it seemed that two consecutive accidents had occurred.
"Officer."
Several SHIELD agents, who had spread out and gone towards the unconscious Irene, quickly spoke after finding her: "We've found a survivor here."
At the same time.
Several SHIELD agents responsible for inspecting the Ford pickup opened the car door, looked at the hole in the roof, and then, seeing the pistol cut in half, immediately bagged it and handed it to Natasha Romanoff, who was walking over: "Officer, look."
Black Widow took it and saw that the cut was smooth and even, as if it had been laser-cut.
Mockingbird, who walked over, also looked at the two halves of the pistol in the evidence bag, a little surprised.
Half an hour later.
George and the others were woken up.
By the time Locke's clone and Gwen got dressed and arrived, Rebecca had already made a cup of coffee in the living room and handed it to Irene, who was sitting on the sofa, her brows deeply furrowed.
"Hiss!"
"Sorry."
"It's fine."
Irene waved her hand. A SHIELD medical technician stood behind Irene, helping her treat the raised bump on the back of her head.
"Mr. Stacy."
"Mr. Boyt."
"Mr. Broughton."
George and Boyt nervously rushed over to Irene. Locke's clone glanced at Black Widow and Mockingbird, did nothing, and followed Gwen over.
However, Black Widow and Mockingbird were already used to Locke's attitude.
Hank walked over, looking at Irene with a tense expression: "What happened?"
Irene shook her head: "I don't know either."
She truly didn't know who knocked her out. She had been running perfectly fine, but then she heard a scream from over there, instinctively turned her head, and then *thump*, she was ambushed. She even thought she might never wake up again.
"Officer."
A SHIELD agent walked up to Black Widow and Mockingbird: "The blood test results are in."
Mockingbird looked at him: "How are they?"
The SHIELD agent nodded.
Through blood comparison technology, the three headless bodies were confirmed to be vampires. Among them, the headless corpse's fingerprints matched those of James, whom they were looking for.
Black Widow walked over, looked at Irene, who was covering her head while medical staff treated the bowl-sized lump on the back of her head, and said, "Ms. Lindsay, do you remember what happened?"
Irene looked up. The pain in the back of her head made her forget the craving for drugs. She sighed weakly: "I told you, another vampire came."
Black Widow shook her head: "No, what we want to ask, Ms. Lindsay, is why you were in that place so late. Our night patrol agents said you told them you were going to a bar in town."
If Irene wanted to go out, the night patrol agents certainly wouldn't stop her, after all, Irene was also a Chicago police officer.
But.
Irene went there, and the target they were supposed to apprehend died, which raised questions.
Black Widow said: "So, can you tell us why?"
Mockingbird spoke up beside her: "Of course, if Ms. Lindsay doesn't want to say, she doesn't have to. We won't force you."
But we'll put you on a watch list, and if anything seems off, we'll bag you and throw you into a secret prison.
Irene opened her mouth.
Hank comforted Irene beside her, and as if he thought of something, he smiled: "It's okay, you can tell us."
Irene looked at the expression on Hank's face, then at the others, who all had encouraging and respectful expressions. After a moment of silence, she looked up at Black Widow and Mockingbird: "I developed a drug addiction during my last undercover mission and I'm in withdrawal. I was feeling terrible and originally wanted to go to the reservoir to soak in the water and cool down."
Who knew she'd be targeted by a vampire?
And... they even forced her to drink a bottle of some liquid that melted on her tongue, and then she was knocked out by who-knows-who. It was just too unlucky.
Locke's clone, hearing this, couldn't help but be slightly stunned.
But he wasn't noticed by Black Widow and Mockingbird.
Because they, too, were slightly stunned, then exchanged glances.
Irene looked at their expressions and frowned: "What's wrong? What I'm saying is true."
Black Widow glanced at a SHIELD agent not far away.
A moment later.
A file was handed to Black Widow.
Black Widow opened the file in her hand, then looked at Irene, frowning: "Ms. Lindsay..."
211. Is this called an arranged marriage?
Natasha looked up.
Across from her, Irene's face was a mix of frowns and confusion.
After a moment, Natasha handed over the documents: "Based on the blood tests and rapid physical analysis we conducted on our way back, you are clean, remarkably clean!"
Irene took the documents, looked at the symbols on them that resembled astronomical charts, and then looked up: "What does this mean?"
Helen, sitting nearby, took the documents from Irene's hand.
Before she met George, or rather, before Gwen was born, Helen had always worked at New Amsterdam Hospital. Most of the wives or girlfriends of NYPD officers were nurses or doctors at this hospital.
This also indirectly indicated the high-risk nature of NYPD officers' jobs.
Natasha looked at Irene, who appeared genuinely confused: "It means you've never touched non-prescription narcotics. There's no sign of it anywhere in your body. However, there might be some error because it was a rapid test."
For some reason, Irene breathed a sigh of relief.
"But…" Natasha offered a slight smile, "For the past five years, whether you have or haven't, it's very accurate. Unless you used drugs more than five years ago, there might be some discrepancy, but within these five years, you are 100% clean. Our technology has never been wrong on this point."
There was no other way.
Who made the head of S.H.I.E.L.D. one of the Five Overlords?
Coincidentally, one of the Five Overlords had a firm stance on drug addiction.
That Overlord only provided funding and did not allow S.H.I.E.L.D. to interfere with their affairs, but to assert his status as a financier, he demanded that all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents be free of drug addiction. He was very firm on this point, and the other Overlords agreed to make the name S.H.I.E.L.D. live up to its reputation.
Therefore… while S.H.I.E.L.D.'s technology might not be perfect for detecting other things, its accuracy in detecting drug addiction was 100%.
"What?"
"Within five years?"
"Clean?"
Irene and Hank were both stunned by this statement. Irene couldn't help but look at Helen.
After looking at the report in the documents, Helen, though puzzled, nodded: "They're right. At least, according to this document, you're clean, Irene."
Irene's mouth dropped open in shock: "How is this possible?"
If she wasn't addicted, would she have felt so miserable, so suicidal, even wanting to stay up all night, run to the reservoir to swim, and numb herself with cold water?
Wait.
The next second, Irene felt as if her brain had been electrocuted.
She remembered the vampire who had stopped her, directly blocked her, then forced open her mouth and poured that bottle of purple, melt-in-your-mouth liquid down her throat.
So… he wasn't trying to harm me, but to save me?
But why was he so forceful? He could have just said something. I would have promised to drink it myself, without even knowing what it tasted like.
Irene tried hard to recall the sensation of that purple liquid.
The result was… a complete blank.
Black Widow and Mockingbird exchanged glances, observing Irene's expression, then looked at her: "Ms. Lindsay, have you figured out why?"
Irene snapped back to reality, looked at Black Widow and Mockingbird, frowned, and then recounted how the vampire had stopped her car, gotten in, and immediately forced the potion down her throat.
Locke, the clone on the other side, temporarily shifted his main attention away from the clone upon seeing this.
Deep in the mountains.
In the ancient forest.
Birds chirped.
Under the moonlight, a handsome, effeminate man in a suit stood opposite a punk-style, smoky-eyed girl who looked sixteen or seventeen, but whose true age was unknown due to her vampiric nature. They stared at each other in silence.
An emotion was quietly brewing… Locke interrupted directly, speaking: "Your name."
Mavis looked up, her face curious, scrutinizing Locke: "Mavis, that's my name."
Mavis?
Locke searched his memory palace, found a blank, and asked curiously: "How old are you?"
"114 years old. In four more years, I'll be an adult."
"…"
One hundred… no.
Locke recalled a book he had read when he was five, which was considered his initial equipment. It stated that in vampire history, one hundred and eighteen years old was considered adulthood.
If adulthood was twenty-one years old for humans, then Mavis's current appearance matched her age; she was exactly seventeen.
Locke nodded, then, thinking about and observing Mavis's expectant and undiscouraged gaze, he was somewhat puzzled: "Do we… know each other?"
Mavis first nodded, then shook her head.
Locke was dumbfounded.
Mavis's eyes lit up, as if she had thought of something. She lowered her head, took out a small pouch, rummaged through it a few times, and then pulled out a diary that clearly didn't fit, and even looked quite old, from the tiny pouch.
Locke's brow twitched.
Storage space?
No.
Some kind of spatial magic for containment. This was the Federation, not the East; there was only fantasy, no xuanhuan.
After finding the diary, Mavis quickly flipped through it to the one hundred and seventieth page, then turned the diary to face Locke.
Locke fixed his gaze on it.
The diary was written in Old English.
Fortunately, that didn't stump Locke. After all, in the last college alliance knowledge competition, Locke had also acquired some Old English skills.
"Dear Mavis, hello. I'm so happy you've grown another year older. You're only four years away from adulthood."
"It's a pity Mother can't be by your side."
"But Mother has prepared a gift for you, my dear daughter."
"Regarding love, I know at this moment you must be fantasizing about what your future husband will be like."
"Mother once fantasized too."
"So…"
"Mother used our witch abilities to divine a little. I saw him, my dear daughter."
"He's right there."
"This diary I left for you, I've enchanted it, because I know your father will definitely peek and try to stop you. So, when you can see this line of text, release the paper dove I left for you when you were five. Follow her; she will lead you to the right person for your future."
"He will protect you, just as your father once protected me, willing to stand against the entire world."
"My dear daughter, I hope you will like this gift."
"However, he might not believe it. You can show him this diary. If he is the person I saw, then he can turn to the next page."
"Happy seventeenth birthday, my dear daughter."
"Your loving Mother."
"…"
Witch.
Vampire.
Locke seemed to realize something. He looked at Mavis, who was visibly excited and seemed to be expecting him to do something: "Your father wouldn't happen to be Count Dracula, would he?"
Mavis's eyes lit up, and she nodded: "Mother was right after all. You are my husband."
Locke's mouth fell open.
What the hell?
That's ridiculous.
What century was this? Surely no one still believed in prophecies.
Moreover… he was an anomaly.
Destiny was his own; his fate was in his own hands. No one could predict his future. Even the system wouldn't influence whether Locke accepted a mission, let alone this so-called prophecy.
The success of a prophecy was built upon a predetermined fate.
But someone like Locke? Even in terms of destiny, he was constantly jumping back and forth, swaying left and right, making him unpredictable.
Locke thought to himself, looking at the expectant Mavis: "I'm sorry, I think you might be mistaken, little… girl. I have a girlfriend, and we're very happy together."
Her name is Gwen Stacy.
Mavis said nothing, merely took a small paper dove from her embrace. The paper dove landed on the diary, seemingly coming to life, then flapped its wings and began to fly.
Locke watched the homing pigeon take flight. It flew into the air, circled twice, and then slowly descended, landing on his head.
It continued to circle there.
Locke was somewhat speechless.
Mavis watched this scene, a blush appearing on her slightly chubby, adorable face as she gazed at Locke: "Mother wouldn't deceive me, she wouldn't."
Believe me, she would.
Locke thought to himself, but considering the contents of the diary, it was clear that Count Dracula's witch wife had probably died shortly after Mavis was born.
Never mind.
The soft-hearted Locke shook his head and extended his right hand to Mavis: "Your mother said if I'm the right person, I can open the next page, right?"
Mavis lowered her head, placed her right hand on the next page, and tried hard to turn it, but it wouldn't budge. Then, she looked up at Locke, seemingly wanting to prove that it truly couldn't be opened.
Locke smiled, took the thick diary, which resembled an ancient alchemist's journal, and looked at Mavis, who was full of anticipation, seemingly certain he could turn the page. He placed his right hand on the next page.
Then… Mavis's eyes lit up.
Locke was also stunned.
But.
With a thud.
The next page seemed to open, then, with another thud, it immediately closed again.
Mavis paused slightly, looking at Locke.
Locke also looked down at the book in his hand, and was stunned once more.
He swore he hadn't deliberately tried not to open it.
Locke tried again.
With the same force, just the normal force for turning a page, the next page lifted, then, with a thud, as if some error had been detected, it closed again.
What was going on?
Locke felt he could open it, even with brute force.
But… that would be cheating, wouldn't it?
However, what did it mean to open halfway and then close?
212. Disciples of Ancient 1
If it opened, then he was Mavis's husband, as prophesied.
If it didn't open, then he wasn't.
So, if it opened, but not completely, what would that mean?
Does it mean he is him, but also not him?
Locke looked at Mavis in front of him, a confused expression on his face.
Mavis was clearly not expecting this either, her big eyes also full of confusion: "Mom wouldn't lie to me, she definitely wouldn't lie to me."
Locke handed the diary back to Mavis.
Normally, when faced with a diary that he couldn't open and that piqued his curiosity, he would definitely open it to find out what was inside.
But this was a special case.
Mavis was very pretty and very cute, but as for love, how should Locke put it?
He preferred to be passive.
His energy was all focused on how to earn points. If Gwen hadn't pursued him, he probably would have kept his promise that women would only hinder his point-earning speed, and he would have watched the rising tides of Midtown High from the sidelines.
However, Gwen's pursuit had caused him to break his resolve.
But… one was enough. There was no need to add unnecessary trouble. Besides, how strong was he? How old was he? And he was already thinking about having a harem?
Therefore.
"Sorry."
Locke said to Mavis in front of him, "Perhaps something went wrong."
Mavis looked up: "Impossible, Mom wouldn't lie to me."
Locke opened his mouth.
After saying that, Mavis lowered her head and murmured, "Mom wouldn't lie to me, she definitely wouldn't lie to me. She said my future Mr. Right is named Locke. She definitely wouldn't lie to me."
As she spoke.
With a 'bang', a cloud of white mist erupted from Mavis, and then she transformed into an adorable, big-eyed bat, flapping its wings. It apologized to Locke and then prepared to fly away.
Locke, hearing Mavis's words, frowned: "Wait a minute?"
Mavis, who was about to turn around and go home to avoid worrying her father, turned her head and glanced at Locke in the moonlight. Then, her small mouth opened slightly.
In the moonlight, the effeminate and handsome Locke slowly changed.
If Vampire Locke represented a kind of dark beauty, then… Locke himself was the true charm of a man full of masculinity and overflowing with hormones, someone who could give an infinite sense of security with just one glance.
"You want Locke."
Locke looked at Mavis, who was flapping her tiny wings and hovering in the air, his hands in his pockets: "I am Locke."
Bang!
Mavis transformed back into her seventeen-year-old punk metal girl appearance, looking at the suddenly transformed Locke in disbelief: "How… How could you?"
As she spoke.
The paper dove in her arms flapped its wings and flew towards Locke again. This time, however, unlike before, it didn't circle but landed steadily on Locke's shoulder. Then, the paper dove cooed at Mavis, as if saying something.
Mavis's eyes lit up as she looked at Locke: "I knew it, Mom wouldn't lie to me! You are my husband!"
Locke: "…"
I'm not.
Locke really wanted to say that, but at this moment, his interest in Mavis's mother's diary had grown even stronger.
Mavis was one hundred and fourteen years old this year.
Her mother, how should he put it, must have started prophesying at least one hundred and fourteen years ago, and at that time, Locke hadn't even transmigrated yet.
He thought of a possibility.
Mavis's mother did prophesy, and she prophesied him, but to be precise, it wasn't him?
Locke extended his hand: "The diary."
Mavis paused for a moment, then snapped back to reality, said "Oh," and reopened her small purse, took out the large diary, and handed it to Locke. Then, she looked at Locke with an expectant expression.
Locke opened the diary, his finger pinching the next page.
The next second.
This time, the next page of the diary was easily turned. It seemed the verification was successful; there was no resistance, and it was easily flipped open.
Immediately after.
On the blank page of the diary, a magical glow shimmered. After the glow disappeared, one word after another appeared on it.
"Hello, Locke Broughton."
"…"
Locke raised an eyebrow, looking at the first sentence that appeared.
"I apologize for getting to know you in this way."
"But… please understand a mother who has long since passed away and her concern for her daughter."
"Or, please understand the concern of two mothers for their children!"
"This was observed with the most precious treasure, at my request to my teacher, when my life was nearing its end."
"You are very unique."
"I originally wanted to observe you, but there seemed to be something preventing the observation. I think if I hadn't been observing my daughter's timeline, I wouldn't have been able to see you at all."
"Unfortunately, I only observed that one wedding, with countless flowers and streams, from a distance. How I wish I could have been there on my daughter's wedding day."
"Thank you for protecting my daughter. At that wedding, my daughter spoke of your care and protection for her. To give Mavis a precious gift, please forgive my presumption."
"…"
Locke looked up.
What met his eyes.
Mavis was looking at Locke with an almost expectant expression.
Locke opened his mouth.
So… Mavis's mother didn't observe him directly, but rather, by observing her daughter, she indirectly observed him?
But.
This still wasn't scientific.
A witch who could casually observe time, would she not even be able to take care of her own daughter and just kick the bucket?
Wait.
Teacher?
Most precious treasure?
Supreme Ancient One? Eye of Agamotto?
Locke raised an eyebrow, looking at the part of the diary where that sentence was written. So, Mavis's mother wasn't a wild witch, but a proper sorceress, a sorceress who inherited from Kamar-Taj?
After all, someone who could observe time, not just on Earth, but even in the entire universe, could probably only do so with the Time Stone, which was now in the possession of the Supreme Sanctuary, the Eye of Agamotto.
But… Locke was a bit speechless.
Mavis's mother had also observed Mavis's wedding, but that was impossible! Could it be that in the future, I really became a scumbag, playing both sides?
That's not right.
I'm not that kind of person, I'm only seventeen, an invincible pure-hearted youth.
What?
Maybe I broke up with Gwen?
That's not possible.
Locke couldn't imagine why he would break up with Gwen.
So.
Discarding all impossibilities, the closest answer, no matter how unbelievable, could be the correct one: that I really became a scumbag?
Locke was shocked!
An hour later.
Locke looked at the brightly lit hotel lobby, then stealthily entered his room, replaced his clone in the bathroom, and got back into bed. As soon as he climbed into bed, Gwen, who seemed to have some kind of sensing ability, immediately snuggled up to him.
Then… Gwen opened her eyes suspiciously, somewhat drowsily rubbing against Locke's broad chest: "Why is your body so cold?"
Locke said: "The bathroom is quite cold."
Gwen hummed drowsily, then fell back into a deep sleep.
Locke leaned against the pillow, his eyes flickering.
Mavis had already gone back, saying that her dad was anxious and was about to bring all the reclusive uncles and aunts out to the human world to look for him.
Moreover, her mother had also told her not to come out before she came of age.
Although Mavis's mother had died shortly after she was born, Mavis could feel her mother's love through this diary and also trusted her mother.
So, after Mavis confirmed that Locke was her Mr. Right, she invited Locke to witness her coming-of-age ceremony when she left.
After speaking.
Before Locke could say anything, she transformed with a 'poof' into a very cute bat with big, beautiful eyes and flew away in a hurry. It seemed that she had come here just to meet her future husband, show her face, and get to know each other.
Locke could swear to God that before today, he had never seen, nor had he ever thought, that a bat could be so good-looking and beautiful, even its fur was pretty.
And… what happened tonight was too bizarre.
He had just become a vampire, and then it was as if he had been completely spoiled. Time told him that in the future, he would have a wife named Mavis, who was also a noble vampire, the daughter of Count Dracula.
Locke felt he needed to calm down.
Also needing to calm down should be Irene Lindsey, who was ambushed tonight, with a large swollen bump on the back of her head that even her hair couldn't cover.
But Irene wasn't calm.
In fact, as soon as dawn broke, she was already in the parking lot in front of the lobby, wearing a tank top and hot pants, sparring with Hank, both of them panting.
"Ha."
"Haha."
"Bang, bang, bang!"
In the parking lot, Irene's forehead was sweaty as she attacked the defensive Hank.
She had never felt so good.
Her body felt completely renewed, as if a weight had been lifted. Countless cells spoke of a jubilant feeling, as if of rebirth.
Locke leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, and yawned.
Don't misunderstand.
Locke wasn't tired; his spirit was incredibly vigorous. It was just that Gwen next to him seemed to have not slept well yesterday and yawned, and then, due to the contagious effect of yawning, Locke also yawned.
Gwen, holding Locke's arm, looked at Irene and Hank, who had started their morning exercise in the parking lot, and blinked: "Locke, do you know who taught me how to fight?"
Locke turned to look at Gwen.
Gwen smiled: "It was Irene, when she used to come to New York, she taught me."
Locke blinked…
213. CPH4?
Wait a minute?
Gwen knows how to fight?
Why didn't I notice?
Locke looked at Gwen with some suspicion; he knew Gwen's marksmanship was also very good, which, after all, fit Gwen's family background.
George was a veteran Police Officer, and he was also an annual member of the Federal Rifle Association and a staunch supporter of gun freedom; in his words, firearms indeed posed a threat and danger to management.
But... the freedom to possess weapons was written into the Federal Constitution; if this was lost, then the Federation would no longer be that free Federation, and the people's freedom of choice would be stripped away.
So, although Gwen didn't like firearms, she knew how to shoot, and she also knew how to disassemble and maintain them; according to George, when maintenance day for the guns at home came around, Gwen would maintain them with him.
But combat?
Locke really hadn't seen that coming.
Gwen looked up, saw Locke's expression, smiled, and clenched her small fist: "I'm actually quite powerful, and I studied Krav Maga!"
Krav Maga, also known as Israeli Combat, is a specialized military fighting technique developed and established by Israel.
Although it's called Israeli Combat, it has been promoted very well; at the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Krav Maga is one of the compulsory courses, and it's also the first choice for women learning to fight.
"Correct."
Irene, who seemed to have finished practicing over there and was covered in sweat, walked over while wiping herself with a towel; she happened to hear Gwen's words and looked at Locke: "Gwen is a very fast learner. Two years ago, her fighting level was already no less than that of a Police Officer who had been on the job for two years."
Helen, standing nearby, shook her head and smiled: "Fortunately, she didn't turn into a girl with monstrous strength."
George stood to the side with his arms crossed, looking very much like a cool dad: "My daughter is very smart and learns everything quickly. Learning some self-defense techniques ensures she won't be bullied by others."
Locke smiled.
Without a doubt.
When George said this, although he didn't look at Locke because of a guilty conscience, it was definitely meant for his ears.
However.
Let him say what he wants.
Locke wasn't the kind of man who would hit a woman.
He wasn't some domestic abuser.
Helen rolled her eyes at the side and changed the subject, looking at Irene: "So, how do you feel?"
Irene's smile was very bright: "Great, I've never felt my body so light and pleasant."
Yes.
An unprecedented lightness.
Every cell was cheering.
After all... there was no way to treat drug addiction, especially for that kind of drug; even the richest person couldn't completely withdraw, but they had the money to use more advanced substances as substitutes.
But she couldn't.
Irene had originally thought this path would be very difficult for her, and that if she weren't careful, she would be pulled back into the abyss.
But now?
Irene took a deep breath: "I've never felt the air be so fragrant."
Locke raised an eyebrow and interjected: "That's because the perfume Gwen is wearing today is a fresh floral scent."
Irene's smile faltered.
Gwen was stunned for a moment and gave Locke a light punch with her small fist.
Everyone burst into laughter.
After a while.
Black Widow and Mockingbird also walked over from the main hall.
The group immediately looked over.
During the night, when they learned that Irene's situation might be related to a bottle of potion, they suggested giving Irene a more comprehensive examination.
Irene agreed.
By now, the test results should have already come out.
Irene looked at Black Widow: "How is it?"
Mockingbird Barbara Morse said from the side: "Your physical condition is very good, healthier and cleaner than ever before."
It was as clean as someone who had lived in a sterile environment since childhood until now.
But such a person couldn't possibly exist, because experiments had long since proven that if such a person did exist, they would suffer a bacterial infection in a short time after leaving the sterile environment and contacting the outside world.
After all, in modern society, various types of pollution are too severe; if a modern person were placed in the Middle Ages, they would be no different from a walking virus.
But Irene broke this perception.
The S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy of Science had already analyzed the blood samples overnight; it seemed that something existed in Irene's blood, forming a protective umbrella; any foreign bacteria that came into contact with this umbrella would be blocked and then destroyed.
In other words.
"At this moment, you are immune to all poisons."
"What?"
"Even if you accidentally ingest a lethal poison, your body will repel it; however, we don't know if this effect is permanent or temporary."
"..."
Irene was a bit confused: "But why?"
Locke rolled his eyes over there.
Damn it.
If he had known Irene was planning to go there for a swim instead of jumping into the river, he definitely wouldn't have gone looking for her.
Locke regretted it.
Thinking about it carefully, if it weren't for Irene, he wouldn't have gone there, wouldn't have met Mavis, and wouldn't have had his future spoiled by time.
Wait.
Locke rubbed his chin and then took a sharp breath.
No.
He should be glad Irene went.
Think about it, if Irene hadn't gone to the reservoir, Locke wouldn't have followed, and if he hadn't followed, Mavis would have still come; with Mavis's naive personality, having been protected so well by The Count, she might have appeared directly in front of everyone.
At that time... Locke felt he might have had to go on a killing spree.
Helen frowned and asked from the side: "Have they analyzed what Irene drank?"
Mockingbird looked at a scientist who had been brought along.
The scientist pushed up his glasses: "We detected the presence of CPH4 in Ms. Lindsey's blood."
"CPH4, what is that?"
"A substance."
And Gwen, who happened to be an expert in the field and a Top Student, looked at Helen: "Mom, CPH4 is a substance that allows sperm and eggs to form a human shape. Pregnant women secrete CPH4 in the sixth week; the amount secreted is very small, but for a baby, it's like an atomic bomb, providing the essential energy for the fetus to grow perfectly."
As she spoke.
Helen looked at the scientist with a frown: "But that's impossible, because CPH4 only exists in an ideal state."
Simply put.
It simply cannot be extracted or manufactured.
After all, Dr. Connors' first choice was to use this substance to stimulate the bodies of disabled people to regrow limbs under the stimulus of CPH4.
But... it failed.
Even in molecular physics, CPH4 is a product of an ideal state.
The scientist nodded: "Yes, but it is indeed remaining in Ms. Lindsey's body, and in quite a large amount; the remaining content is enough to form ten fetuses ten times over. So, we would like to conduct a detailed study on Ms. Lindsey."
Irene was slightly stunned.
Hank's face darkened immediately.
Mockingbird quickly said: "Of course, this depends on Ms. Lindsey's own wishes; we won't force anything. If Ms. Lindsey is willing, we have a complete laboratory in New York. If you all are willing, you can observe from the side."
"New York?"
"Yes."
Black Widow chimed in: "If Ms. Lindsey agrees, a private jet is ready to return to New York as quickly as possible. After all, Ms. Lindsey surely wants to know what she drank."
Irene frowned incessantly.
She didn't want to be studied.
But... she really did want to know exactly what she had swallowed.
Especially after listening to Black Widow, Mockingbird, and Gwen explain what CPH4 was to a Slackerlike her, although she didn't understand most of it.
But she heard the part about the "atomic bomb" very clearly.
According to what they said, this CPH4 cannot be manufactured or even extracted, and its effect on the human body is no less than that of an atomic bomb.
What if it exploded inside her?
After all... that Vampire didn't look like a member of the righteous side at all. If he wanted to save her, he could have just said so.
It's hard to get someone to be killed willingly, but to save someone, surely no one drowning in drug addiction would refuse salvation.
So.
What if what he gave wasn't an antidote, but a poison?
Even a poison more terrifying than those.
A more potent, more terrifying poison that gives you a little sweetness first and then, once it breaks out, captures you and turns you into a slave?
Those drugs all followed that pattern.
"Fine."
Irene calculated her vacation time, nodded, and looked at Mockingbird and Black Widow: "I'll go with you, but you only have ten days, and you cannot restrict my personal freedom."
Mockingbird said: "Of course, Ms. Lindsey. During the examination, if you sense anything wrong, you have the right to call it off at any time. Like you, we just hope to find out exactly what happened to you."
As she spoke.
Mockingbird looked at George and Hank: "If you two are worried, I will issue temporary credentials for you. During the examination, you can observe from the observation room."
Nick Fury might have had other intentions when he was around.
But now?
After Nick Fury died, to be honest, the atmosphere of the entire S.H.I.E.L.D. had been completely refreshed; even the air seemed to smell better.
George and Hank exchanged a glance. Originally, Hank and Irene had planned to return to Chicago, but if Irene went to New York...
Then... sea fishing?
I won't be fighting alone anymore.
I have a helper!
214. The Gwen Yacht
Locke wasn't concerned about Irene cooperating with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s inspection.
Not to mention S.H.I.E.L.D. had no way of figuring out the composition of the antidote in Irene's body; Locke's greatest strength was his ability to put himself in others' shoes.
If it were him, he would also try to figure out exactly what he had drunk.
Locke had actually done the same thing.
However, he specifically bought small blood vials and antidotes, and invited a professional chemistry expert. The result was a string of unknowns, except for CPH4.
Locke had samples in hand, and it was still like this. S.H.I.E.L.D., without even a sample, would be crazy to figure it out.
Unless they falsified it!
Uh... soon.
Because they could take a Homeland Security special flight back, after finishing breakfast, they weren't in a hurry to rush to the airport. Instead, they canceled their rebooked plane tickets online.
Although rebooking and then canceling was not cost-effective.
But even a small mosquito is still meat, after all, everyone isn't very rich.
And returning the rented car.
Fortunately, the car rental company also had a part-timer locally, so they didn't need to drive to the airport to complete the return. It was done in about an hour. Then, near noon, the group took S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Ford car to a small private airfield.
A very beautiful Gulfstream jet was already waiting.
"Mr. Broughton."
Mockingbird looked at Locke as he got out of the car, smiling slightly. She pointed to the gun bag containing the remington 770 in Locke's right hand: "Sorry, non-law enforcement personnel are not allowed to bring firearms on the plane. You can temporarily hand it over to the crew and retrieve it after you disembark. This is the rule."
Locke nodded and handed the gun bag in his right hand to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent next to Mockingbird: "Thank you."
See.
He was actually a very agreeable person.
It was for flight safety, after all.
As long as he didn't wear his glasses, he was very willing to abide by the established rules and regulations.
After all, without his glasses, he was enjoying life!
The plane soared through the sky.
The speed was very fast.
At this speed, it would probably take less than two hours to successfully reach Kennedy Airport in New York.
Although it was a Homeland Security special plane, S.H.I.E.L.D. was operating it. Again, in Locke's eyes, S.H.I.E.L.D. was as fragile and vulnerable as a domino.
But when facing others, S.H.I.E.L.D. was actually a very powerful entity.
"What a shame."
Gwen watched the white clouds passing by outside the plane window, leaning on Locke's shoulder: "I originally thought we could stay for ten days, but we only stayed for two."
She had packed enough clothes for ten days, and had been preparing for this trip since May.
In the end, all that preparation was for nothing.
Locke didn't feel it was a pity at all and comforted her: "It's okay, we can go deep-sea fishing with Mr. Stacy then."
He began to seriously suspect whether he would be targeted even if he didn't wear the title 'Destiny is Mine'.
Otherwise, why would he encounter an accident every time he traveled?
The cruise on the poseidon during last year's winter vacation was unforgettable.
This year's summer vacation hunting trip could also be said to be deeply memorable.
It's better to stay in New York.
If something happened every time he went out, he would suspect if he had some kind of innate disaster constitution.
I'm not Conan.
Locke thought to himself.
Gwen shook her head at Locke's suggestion: "I don't know if I'll have the courage to go out to sea again."
Just as most people who have experienced an air disaster develop a fear of flying.
Cindy and Maggie now had a phobia of the ocean. Both Kahn and Dylan tried their best to avoid any words related to ocean travel.
Gwen and Jennifer were a bit better; they didn't resist the ocean, but the shadow of it still remained.
Locke nodded: "I know, so I bought a yacht."
Gwen straightened up abruptly from leaning on Locke's shoulder: "You bought what?"
Helen, who was talking to Rebecca not far away, also looked over here, but quickly resumed their previous conversation.
Irene, who was looking through introductions to CPH4, which was giving her a headache, also looked up.
George and Hank, needless to say, were even more surprised.
Locke looked at Gwen's shocked expression and smiled: "It wasn't much money. When I was ordering a car back then, I happened to meet someone who was in the yacht business. We chatted for a bit, and I felt it was pretty good. It cost less than five million U.S. dollars in total."
Gwen's mouth hung wide open.
Less than... five hundred dollars?
Rebecca, on the other hand, gave Helen a questioning look, 'This is the orphan you mentioned? You must be joking with me.'
George's eyelid started twitching again.
Still, the same old saying: if Locke were merely a prodigal son, he would have a hundred ways to kick him off the boat he had already jumped onto.
Black Widow and Mockingbird didn't show as much emotion, after all, more than thirty million had been transferred to Locke from the poseidon casino account alone.
A mere five million was just a drop in the bucket.
Gwen seemed to realize her voice was a bit loud and lowered it: "But what do you need a yacht for? Just to go fishing with my dad? Come on, he can just rent a small boat. Fishing on a yacht? What's his status to be fishing on a yacht? The fish he catches probably won't even cover the yacht's fuel costs."
Although her voice was very soft.
George still heard it.
His fists clenched.
What do you mean, 'what's my status'?
I'm his father-in-law, why can't I go fishing on his yacht?
This padded jacket isn't just leaky, it's completely made of solid, black-hearted cotton.
No.
Don't get angry.
George took a deep breath, hoping that his old friend next to him hadn't heard that sentence.
But... George slowly glanced at his old friend Hank, who was sitting opposite him, drinking with him.
Excellent.
Although Hank shook his head with a confused expression, the smile at the corner of his mouth had deeply betrayed him.
This time at sea, one of them must go down!
George clenched his fists again.
However.
Gwen stuck out her tongue, seemingly sensing her dad's murderous aura, and looked at Locke: "That's not what I meant, I mean, it's not cost-effective."
No matter how you look at it, it's not cost-effective.
For enjoyment?
Unless you go out to sea once a week, otherwise, it's not worth it.
And... "Do you have a license?"
"Yes."
"What?"
Locke's mouth curved upwards: "After I ordered the Gwen, I spent a tiny bit of time studying, and then, on a weekend, I got my yacht license."
To be precise, it took five seconds.
Studying, lighting up a skill once, upgrading to junior once, then upgrading to intermediate once, and then upgrading to advanced once.
A total of five seconds.
His yacht driving skill was directly upgraded to advanced. He felt that he could drive a yacht on the sea, doing high-speed maneuvers. If a warship came, he would dare to overtake it... a ship?
However.
Gwen's attention seemed to be on a different angle.
"Wait."
Gwen blinked, her expression very lovely: "The Gwen?"
Locke nodded and hummed: "It should be delivered in the next few days. I remember he sent me a concept drawing. I planned to give you a surprise."
Gwen looked at Locke, who was taking out his phone to search, her eyes sparkling like stars.
Actually, custom-made items usually aren't that fast, but it just so happened that when they chatted that day, he mentioned that due to the economic crisis, a yacht ordered by a rich man was put on hold due to payment issues. Locke took a look at the specifications and simply took it over.
Locke found the concept drawing that person sent and handed it to Gwen: "Look."
Gwen looked closely: on the sparkling blue sea, a yacht with a silver-white exterior, a swimming pool on board, and a small helicopter landing pad. The name 'Gwen' shone brightly on its hull.
"Wow!"
"Pretty, isn't it?"
"Mm."
Gwen gazed at the letters 'Gwen' with undisguised joy in her eyes. After all, no woman could refuse a surprise, and Gwen was no exception.
However... Gwen looked at the picture and couldn't help but look up at Locke: "Are you sure this was only five million?"
Locke nodded: "Yes, because of the economic crisis. The original price was seven million, and it also came with a Little Bird helicopter."
Moreover, the insurance for this yacht and the Little Bird helicopter has also been purchased.
It's still Silver City Insurance.
Silver City Insurance has always been very good; he knew that from when they compensated for the audi. The efficiency is still top-notch.
Locke looked at Gwen: "Do you like it?"
Gwen nodded.
Locke smiled: "Then, when the time comes, we'll go out to sea together. With our own yacht, we won't have to worry about any accidents."
Let's see if another wave dares to come.
If the boat capsized, Locke would change his surname.
However... even though the yacht only cost five million, the subsequent maintenance and upkeep costs haven't been factored in yet. Moreover, in the first half of this year, Locke has only had expenses, with virtually no income.
Watching his savings drop to around twenty million U.S. dollars, Locke still felt a bit of a crisis.
Fortunately.
The Jin Family has already found two interested buyers for that Voodoo manual. They originally called Locke to trade the day before yesterday, but Locke wasn't in New York and wasn't in a hurry.
Just right.
The itinerary changed, so Locke contacted the Earl Jin Family before boarding the plane. Tonight, the Continental Hotel will complete the handover of goods.
The starting price is five million U.S. dollars, and with two interested customers, it is conservatively estimated that it can be auctioned for over ten million. After deducting the commission for Earl Jin, over ten million can be earned.
When that's put into the family fund, the dividend at the end of the year will be very substantial...
215. Arthur the Mechanic
It was evening.
When Locke walked into the Continental Hotel again, he could clearly feel the surrounding glances directed at him, carrying a mix of awe and lingering fear.
After all, Locke had turned a person into a large gray rat during a live television broadcast.
Although the outside World had clarified that it was a magic trick, and Locke did not step forward to deny it, those in the know understood the truth; only foolish people would believe the official explanation.
These days, some things need to be understood by listening to the opposite of what is said.
Therefore.
Although Locke had not taken a job for nearly half a year, his reputation in the assassin World was steadily rising. The most obvious sign was that people used to joke about his Wushuang notification slips.
Now?
Not a single counterfeit notification slip remained, and even the jokes about them had stopped.
Locke really wanted to tell them that playing his notification slip card game was fine; he had even played it when he met the Red Devil. The rules reminded Locke of a certain board game.
Charon, who seemed to stand at the front desk twenty-four hours a day, saw Locke arrive and smiled, "Long time no see, Mr. Wushuang. Are you checking in or just relaxing?"
Locke nodded, "I have an appointment with someone from the Jin Family."
Charon nodded, updated a Room key card, and handed it to Locke, "Room 1208, Mr. Wushuang."
Although the Continental Hotel serves assassins, it is a hub for the entire criminal World. Essentially, the Continental Hotel knows everyone of note.
However, the Continental Hotel maintains neutrality, a rule it has never broken throughout the years, thus establishing a brand effect in the minds of the criminal World.
Soon.
Locke stepped out of the elevator.
Two people approached from the hallway on the left.
Six eyes met.
The man leading the way, who looked remarkably similar to Jason Brent of the NYPD, paused when he saw Locke, then smiled, "Jesus Christ, am I seeing things? Wushuang?"
Locke chuckled, stepped out of the elevator, and shook hands with Arthur, one of his old acquaintances, who was known in the industry as the Mechanic. "Arthur, long time no see."
Arthur is Harry's disciple.
Locke is Chester's disciple.
Before Chester retired, he and Harry were good friends. Chester had even invited Harry over to Texasto teach some techniques and methods related to creating accidents.
But Locke had curiously asked at the time, "Isn't killing everyone who saw it also a perfect assassination?"
After that, there was no 'after.'
However, Locke and Arthur became acquainted.
Arthur wiped his nose, his voice low and magnetic, "I should be saying that. How long have you been in New York? I haven't seen you here once."
Locke smiled.
He never liked excessive small talk when outsiders were present.
Arthur seemed to remember something and pointed to the man beside him, who resembled Hannibalbut wore a beard and looked somewhat elderly, saying, "Vizla, Duncan Vizla..."
Locke reached out his hand, "Black Kaiser, senior, I've heard much about you."
As an assassin with a master-disciple lineage, while there weren't many rules, one still needed to show respect when meeting a senior.
What's more.
This appearance belonged to Uncle Ba, whom Locke had always admired.
Tell me, who in this World wouldn't want to taste the delicious cuisine personally cooked by Uncle Ba?
However.
This Duncan was rather cold; after shaking hands with Locke, he said nothing more.
Arthur invited, "Care for a drink?"
Locke nodded, "Sure, you go down first. I'll come find you after I finish my business."
Arthur looked at the Room key card in Locke's hand and nodded.
He didn't ask any further questions.
Mind your own business and don't interfere with others' contracts—that's industry standard.
Locke waited until Arthur and the Black Kaiser entered the elevator, then found Room 1208.
He swiped the key card.
He pushed the door open.
Following the sound of pistols being drawn, the two bodyguards protecting the employer quickly lowered their weapons when they saw Locke, who was wearing sunglasses, walk in.
A blonde man in a suit, looking exactly like a businessman, saw this scene and immediately knew that the person who arrived was definitely the one they were waiting for.
He stood up.
His face was full of smiles.
"Good evening, Mr. Wushuang."
"Good evening."
Locke shook hands with the man in front of him.
Tyler Jin was excited, "Thank you, Mr. Wushuang, for giving this contract to me."
Locke said, "Although your brother Francis is quite good, I don't like losing; I like winning. You are the reigning champion of this generation of the Jin Family, so naturally, I chose you. I trust you will sell my item for a very good price."
Tyler Jin said excitedly, "I guarantee it, Mr. Wushuang."
The Jin Family is a very cruel family.
Let's put it this way.
The Jin Family conducts auctions by kidnapping and stealing specific people and objects and finding specific buyers. The difference is that after each auction, the two sons must calculate their transaction amounts separately, and the one with the lower amount must play a round of "Russian Roulette."
The loser shoots themselves in the head.
There is a one-in-six chance of dying.
But there is a five-in-six chance of survival.
This method serves to motivate both sons to work harder in finding transaction targets and buyers, and also to better invigorate their family, ensuring its continued vitality.
To put it bluntly.
This family is insane.
But... that has nothing to do with Locke Wushuang.
Locke lifted the plastic bag in his hand.
Tyler Jin was slightly stunned looking at the common, cheap supermarket bag. He even looked up at Locke, unable to help himself, after seeing the three square characters 'Da Run Fa' on the cheap supermarket bag.
Locke handed the item to Tyler, "Sorry, I took a trip to China and realized I was running out of time."
Life is a stage everywhere.
Treat the unreal as real, and the real as unreal. What if this insignificant little detail proves useful? Anyway, it was an easy thing to do.
The rustling sound of the plastic bag.
Soon.
From the plastic bag, the thick voodoo compendium, written on human skin and resembling a British Legal Code, was taken out by Tyler Jin, who was wearing White gloves.
"Wow."
Tyler Jin used his gloved hands—the gloves were costly and ensured a tactile sensation similar to bare hands—to touch the voodoo compendium, letting out an exclamation of praise. He then looked at Locke, "May I..."
Locke nodded, "Of course."
It's an auction, after all.
It certainly needs to be authenticated. You can't just claim something is real and expect it to be true. People come to an auction because they trust the auction house's reputation.
If a fake were to appear, the reputation of the Earl Jin Family would likely be ruined.
However... although the Jin Family's education model is somewhat perverse, it has its merits. At the very least, both Tyler and his brother Francis became top-tier appraisers before the age of thirty, and their judgment is no less keen than any other top appraiser outside.
Moreover, they are versatile.
Unlike external appraisers, some of the top ones are severely specialized.
However... there was also a female appraiser next to Tyler Jin.
This was likely for cross-confirmation.
Locke didn't pay too much attention.
Tyler Jin sat in the chair, fully focused, meticulously examining the pages of the voodoo compendium, seemingly turning them one by one for detailed appraisal.
Thinking of Arthur, whom he had just met in the hallway, Locke spoke to the serious and determined Tyler Jin, "I'll be drinking downstairs. When you're done, come find me."
Tyler Jin respectfully watched Locke, who had finished speaking and was turning to walk out the door. "Understood, Mr. Wushuang."
It was still the same situation.
Following that television broadcast, Locke's Wushuang reputation had basically reached its peak in the assassin World.
After all... nobody was confident they could give Locke a quick death, and without that confidence, Locke would ensure they were miserable for the rest of their lives.
Imagine turning into a large gray rat?
The feeling, just thinking about it, was worse than death.
However, Locke knew that although the large gray rat in the NYPD Underground Room was also suffering terribly, it lacked the courage to commit suicide.
Of course, it wouldn't matter if that large gray rat wanted to kill itself.
Because that large gray rat was hog-tied and suspended in the air. Eating? It wasn't worthy of eating. Intravenous fluids? The Doctor in the Morgue would be responsible for its nutrition, ensuring it remained alive.
In the bar.
When Locke arrived, the Black Kaiser was already gone.
Arthur, sitting across from him, snapped his fingers and called a waiter, "The deal is done, he left. That guy is always a loner."
The Black Kaiser could be considered a contemporary of Chester and Harry.
However.
Chester wanted to retire, and he did.
Harry, wanting to continue contributing, became Arthur's partner and kept working with him.
The Black Kaiser also wanted to retire, but because he hadn't reached retirement age, he was still diligently working.
"bourbon, thunder bourbon!"
Locke told the waiter his order, then looked curiously at Arthur, "Still not retired?"
"Soon."
Arthur sipped the whiskey in front of him, thought for a moment, and said, "About two more years, I guess."
Locke nodded.
He was trained under a master-disciple relationship with Chester and was self-employed, while Arthurand Harry belonged to an established Assassin Company.
The Black Kaiser was originally a freelancer, but later an Assassin Company poached him, promising a generous pension and thereby binding him.
Locke couldn't help but shake his head, "That's why you shouldn't touch that stuff."
The Black Kaiser has a drug addiction.
Most assassins do, especially the younger generation nowadays.
But high pressure is never an excuse.
Locke never had any sympathy for intentional drug users.
Chester didn't either.
In fact, when Chester took Locke as a disciple, he told Locke not to touch that stuff, or he would clean up the mess himself (purge the lineage).
Locke had wanted to laugh at the time.
But truthfully, it was precisely because Chester's views were similar to his own in some ways.
That's why Locke became Chester's disciple...