Ch: 231-238
231. Am I going to become 500,000?
George didn't chase Mr. Nobody away.
After all, he was a guest.
And Langley, truthfully, only had a bad reputation; its attributes were genuinely righteous. Moreover, this was New York, and George was the local authority. If he were to chase Mr. Nobody away, wouldn't that imply he was afraid, suggesting that the NYPD was afraid of Langley?
That wouldn't do.
Most importantly, the man hadn't come empty-handed; he had brought intelligence.
So, even though Mr. Nobody had come uninvited, and George was displeased, he still politely invited the uninvited guest inside to sit down.
From the moment Mr. Nobody spoke, his words were sweet. He shook hands with Helen, introduced himself, and showered her with compliments, which delighted Helen.
However, to be frank...
Anyone who came to their house would be better at coaxing Helen than George.
George was a genuine straight man, the kind who would even bust his father-in-law for a traffic violation without showing any mercy.
Helen smiled as she shook hands with Mr. Nobody, whispering, "To be honest, I don't think you're like someone from the CIA at all."
Mr. Nobody smiled and said, "Because I'm not. I'm just a small fry."
As he spoke...
"Mr. Broughton!"
Mr. Nobody's gaze fell on Locke, and he extended a hand of friendship: "My goodness, I didn't expect Mr. Broughton to be here too. This is quite a surprise. We meet again."
Locke thought to himself, "If you put away that exaggerated expression and recall the agents who have been trailing me from a distance these past few days, then I'll believe you." He also politely shook hands with Mr. Nobody, speaking courteously: "I've heard that after meeting three times, one can know the other's name, Mr. Nobody."
Mr. Nobody smiled and said, "How many times is this for us?"
"Twice!"
"Oh."
Mr. Nobody made an understanding expression and smiled, saying, "Then, how about the third time, Mr. Broughton?"
Locke smiled slightly.
"It's a deal."
"It's a deal."
"Is this guy trying to recruit me?"
Locke thought to himself as he watched Mr. Nobody walk upstairs to the study with George.
After all, CIA agents aren't clones that can be mass-produced by machines. In fact, there's a profession within the CIA similar to Hollywood talent scouts.
These CIA scouts are spread across the federation, mostly retired CIA agents. If they spot a promising young person, they observe them, and if suitable, they seize the opportunity to invite them to join Langley, to shine and contribute to the protection of the country.
Langley agents, in a sense, are also actors on another world stage, not to mention that Langley itself has intricate ties with Hollywood.
It's said that Marilyn Monroe was once rumored to be a female agent for Langley.
And the reason why the stand-ins used in Hollywood today are so lifelike is reportedly due to the human skin mask technology from Langley.
Locke wasn't entirely against joining Langley.
At the very least, it wasn't like S.H.I.E.L.D.
In fact...
Locke was actually a little expectant of the CIA trying to poach him. After all, after joining Langley, his avenues for earning points would increase.
Moreover, the CIA's operational scope would be equivalent to his own point-earning scope.
Where is the CIA's operational scope?
Worldwide.
At that time, he might even be able to collaborate with the Peerless Assassin, and also expand the Peerless Assassin's point-earning range.
A win-win!
And it could also boost his value to five hundred thousand!
But... that was for later.
Right now?
Locke was only seventeen. At this age, his main point-earning experiences were in school. After coming to New York, he hadn't even completed many tasks for the Peerless Assassin because he felt that his current main point-earning tasks made it worthwhile to temporarily set aside assassination missions.
Just as one cannot blindly rush to level 150 without any equipment, Locke never aimed too high. It was better to be down-to-earth, taking one step at a time, which was more stable.
In the study.
"Sit!"
"Thank you."
Mr. Nobody sat down in the chair, and then his gaze fell on the huge whiteboard on the wall.
The whiteboard was covered with information.
It was all intelligence related to the Peerless Assassin, and it was even divided by timeline, from the first mission to the locations where the Peerless Assassin had been sighted, all clearly marked.
Every photo, every piece of intelligence, had a source.
Anyone who saw this scene would immediately realize how determined George was to catch the Peerless Assassin.
Mr. Nobody looked at George and sincerely praised him: "I've always heard that Mr. Stacy is diligent in his work and is recognized by the NYPD as one of the most steadfast law enforcement officers. Seeing this today, I realize the reputation is well-deserved."
Don't underestimate this "steadfast law enforcement."
The number of law enforcement officers in federal agencies who achieve this level, while not comparable to raccoons, is at least on par with the number of national treasures in the East.
From this perspective, George could indeed be considered an endangered species.
George sat in his chair, flipping through the documents Mr. Nobody had handed him.
These documents had actually been declassified, and even S.H.I.E.L.D. had requested a copy.
George was perusing these files—which S.H.I.E.L.D. had once requested, intending to find the true identity of the Peerless Assassin, but which pertained to agents long declared dead—and, without looking up, said, "Are you here for Locke?"
Mr. Nobody adjusted his sitting posture, crossing his legs, and looked at George sitting behind the desk. He chuckled: "Oh, is it that obvious?"
George chuckled.
That wasn't a question.
Anyone with eyes could see that Mr. Nobody wasn't specifically there to deliver documents to him, but rather to use the opportunity to make contact with Locke.
The reason?
At this thought, George shook his head, closed the documents he had briefly scanned, and looked at Mr. Nobody: "Mr. Nobody, since when has the CIA's recruitment become so open and above board?"
Shouldn't the CIA recruit agents covertly, even requiring them to conceal their identities from their girlfriends, unless they were wives?
Mr. Nobody seemed to have no intention of hiding anything and chuckled: "For anyone else, it naturally wouldn't be known, but Locke Broughton is different."
"Oh."
"He and Gwen are dating."
"…"
Mr. Nobody watched George's expression turn directly odd and shook his head: "Actually, I originally planned to recruit Locke Broughton after he graduated, or after he broke up with your daughter, because then I wouldn't have to worry about you doing anything… less than beautiful."
"For example…"
"You've been looking for flaws in Locke Broughton, haven't you?"
"…"
George wanted to kick him out: "What are you trying to say?"
Mr. Nobody shrugged and said with a smile, "Nothing. CIA agents need to have their identities exposed. If you, out of spite for Locke, directly expose him as a CIA agent, then there's no point in me recruiting him."
Agents whose identities are exposed have only two paths.
Either they live at Langley and work in internal affairs.
Or they assume a false identity and retire on the spot.
More seriously, if an agent who has completed multiple missions has their true identity exposed, a cleanup protocol will be initiated to prevent undesirable events from occurring.
"And most importantly…"
Mr. Nobody spread his hands and said, "Also, there's a proposal in the federation now for information transparency. I personally support this proposal, and I also believe that the public needs to understand who are the heroes who protect our country's peace, stability, freedom, and democracy!"
George looked at Mr. Nobody without speaking.
These words were just for show.
Or rather, the words needed to be heard in reverse.
If all of Langley's agents' information were made public, then Langley might as well disband and wait for countless spies and assassins to run into the federation to cause havoc.
George shook his head and spread his hands: "I have no prejudice against Langley's work."
As long as they don't cause trouble on my turf.
Mr. Nobody smiled and said, "I know. And I also know that Mr. Stacy was once sought for recruitment by Langley."
George chuckled: "That's in the past."
Mr. Nobody asked curiously, "Although I've seen some of the files, they're not complete. Could you tell me why? You're very patriotic, I can tell, Mr. Stacy."
George shrugged: "Apparently, I wasn't as passionate as I thought. I met a girl."
Back then, he met Helen, and coincidentally, he also encountered a CIA scout.
George deliberated for three days and chose love!
"I made the right choice."
George recalled his moments with Helen and smiled.
But... George suddenly came back to his senses. He could give up an exciting spy life for love.
What about Locke?
Knowing whether Mr. Nobody wanted to recruit him was one thing, but knowing whether Mr. Nobody succeeded in recruiting him was another.
However, whether Locke had been recruited, he felt he should be able to sense it.
Could a young man be as difficult to deal with as the Peerless Assassin?
George thought to himself.
Mr. Nobody patted his thigh and stood up: "Alright, my information has been delivered. I won't disturb your breakfast time any longer. I apologize for the interruption, Mr. Stacy."
George came to his senses and stood up: "Mr. Nobody, thank you for the information."
Mr. Nobody smiled, said nothing, shook hands with George, and then walked out of the study together: "You're welcome. The outside world always misunderstands us too much. In fact, we are also one of the federal law enforcement agencies."
George smiled: "We are not!"
The NYPD belonged to New York City, not the federal government.
If New York State were to declare independence, the NYPD would be a legitimate red banner.
Down the stairs.
Locke watched Mr. Nobody walk down, one behind the other, and smiled: "Are you leaving so soon, Mr. Nobody?"
"Good heavens."
"He really has his eye on me?"
Two Hundred Thirty-Two: Repaying Evil with Good, Locke
Locke thought to himself.
George and Mr. Nameless probably didn't realize that Locke had heard their conversation in the study loud and clear.
It couldn't be helped.
Locke didn't usually have a habit of eavesdropping, but when something involved him, he felt that as the person concerned, it was necessary to understand matters related to himself.
That wasn't too much to ask, was it?
Locke wasn't the least bit surprised by this outcome, as he had already prepared for it.
Moreover, he was just a bit more low-key in how he carried himself, but when it came to actions, he still adhered to the principle of being high-profile.
Playing the fool to catch the tiger wasn't his style.
So... a star as dazzling as him wouldn't be forgotten by the crowd even with the lights on, especially since he was so handsome.
Therefore, Locke wasn't surprised; instead, he was thinking about how this Mr. Nameless planned to recruit him, or in what form the recruitment would take.
Not joining for now was certain, but being recognized still made Locke quite happy.
What surprised him was something else.
George had actually been recruited by the CIA back in the day, and it seemed he had turned it down because of Helen?
Because of love?
Locke glanced at George, who looked calm and showed no regret about his choice, while shaking hands with Mr. Nameless, who had reached out to say goodbye.
Mr. Nameless smiled and said, 'I look forward to our next meeting.'
Locke replied, 'Next time will be the third time. Will you have a name by then?'
Mr. Nameless laughed heartily, then put on his sunglasses, a slight curve appearing at the corner of his mouth. 'You'll find out next time. Goodbye, Mr. Broughton.'
Locke looked at Mr. Nameless, who was trying to act cool, and nodded calmly. 'Goodbye, Mr. Nameless.'
Playing mysterious?
Once today's business is done, I'll dig up your information. I want to see what your name is.
Locke thought to himself, watching as Mr. Nameless shook hands with Gwen, then smilingly saw him off along with George.
Gwen watched Mr. Nameless enter the elevator. After returning home, she looked curiously at George. 'Dad, that CIA person wasn't here to recruit you as an Agent, was he?'
George was slightly taken aback.
Seeing this, Gwen said, 'Did I hit the mark?'
Half right.
Your dad's name has already been removed from their list. Now, they're eyeing your boyfriend.
Who knows what that wild boar will choose when the time comes.
George gave a meaningful glance at Locke, who was already helping Helen clean up the dishes, then laughed heartily and said to his daughter, 'If the CIA ever invites me, it means they've run out of Agents to use.'
Gwen nodded, looking over at Locke, who was chatting and laughing with Helen.
She was smart.
She had noticed the look George gave Locke earlier.
After a while.
After helping Helen clean up, Locke, Gwen, and George went out together.
George was heading to the NYPD for work.
Gwen was going to Osborn Biologics to continue as Dr. Connor's assistant.
Locke?
Locke was driving Gwen to work.
Then... he would play the role of a saint who repays evil with good.
Don't believe it?
Locke was going to eliminate that noisy African-American District Attorney Nick Reis, who might even affect the auction of his voodoo compendium. Wasn't that equivalent to avenging the Nina Bell family?
Look.
Nina Bell wanted Locke to suffer complete social death, but what was Locke planning to do now? He planned to help avenge the Nina Bell family.
What do you call that?
Repaying evil with good!
Undoubtedly repaying evil with good.
They wanted him dead, but not only did he not let them die, he was even going to eliminate the murderer who wiped out their entire family.
Even if Confucius himself were here, this would still be called repaying evil with good!
In every sense of the word.
I'm truly a kind-hearted person, damn it.
Most importantly.
Locke saw how hard George was chasing the Peerless Assassin, always falling short, and worried that George might get too worked up if this continued.
After all, since the New York TV broadcast, George had been looking for him for over half a year, and Helen was now pregnant. So, to prevent George from getting worked up and doing something unfaithful to Helen with his ex-girlfriend, that gold-medal producer from New York TV, Patty Finn...
Since that broadcast, Patty Finn had created another show called 'Exploring Mysteries.' The first episode rode the wave of popularity, inviting a few fake witches to talk about the history of witches on the show.
Coincidentally, George got promoted, and Patty Finn's career also reached new heights. What if the two of them suddenly lost their minds and did something? What would happen to Helen?
So, even if not for George's sake, for Helen's, the Peerless Assassin should make an appearance.
Recalling the conversation between George and Mr. Nameless in the study earlier, Locke shook his head.
By the way... how did George come to think that he was a former CIA Agent?
Just because his mystery was on par with that of a CIA Agent?
But with the mystery of a CIA Agent, an experienced person could easily tell if the identity documents were forged by just looking at the information.
This skill was also taught by Chester. Most old-school killers and the like should know it.
In his previous life, Locke had never touched a gun. His marksmanship couldn't just be called terrible; he couldn't even hit a stationary target ten meters away.
But he had a good teacher.
Klint Chester!
Chester taught him all the skills he knew without holding back. Regardless of Chester's motives at the time, at the very least, Locke was grateful for it.
Locke originally wanted to become a sharpshooter through his own practice, but while he had the motivation to complete missions, he didn't have the drive to practice shooting until his arms ached all day. So, he cheated.
But he only cheated when it came to marksmanship. For the theories Chester taught, like how to identify surveillance, set up safe houses, and various codes, he relied on his exceptionally smart brain to memorize them.
As for the method of aiming for the head and following up with a shot, it had become instinctual. Moreover, Locke felt that headshots were actually the best.
A person without a head cannot live!
What if you aim for the heart and run into a Vegetable Farmer who says, 'A person without a heart can still live'? What then?
Besides, what if you don't kill with one shot? If you aim for the heart and something blocks it, or if their heart is off-center, what then? That would give the other party a chance to counterattack.
Can't give them that opportunity.
But... since George thought the Peerless Assassin was a former CIA Agent, Locke didn't mind adding a little more to that illusion. After all, facing a Father-in-law who kept making bold declarations like 'Peerless Assassin, I will catch you!', 'Peerless Assassin, you won't get away this time!', 'Peerless Assassin, I will arrest you!'... killing him was definitely out of the question, so the only option was to lead George down the wrong path as much as possible.
How annoying.
Even after finding a way to get George promoted to Chief Inspector, why is he still so obsessed with catching people?
Locke sighed helplessly.
Then... Locke turned his head to look at Gwen, who always asked with concern whenever he sighed. Seeing her resting her chin in her hand and gazing out the window, he blinked. 'Gwen?'
Gwen, who had been lost in thought, snapped back to reality and looked at Locke.
'What's wrong?'
'Nothing.'
Gwen shook her head, then looked curiously at Locke. 'Locke, if Mr. Nameless recruits you, will you go?'
Locke raised an eyebrow.
'What?'
'I mean, if Mr. Nameless recruits you for the CIA, will you go?'
'Uh...'
Locke looked curious. 'Why ask that all of a sudden?'
Gwen smiled slightly. 'Answer me first.'
Locke, seeing the light turn green, stepped on the gas again, then turned to Gwen with a smile and said without hesitation, 'If he really comes to recruit me, I'll definitely tell you.'
Gwen blinked. 'Tell me?'
Locke nodded. 'I'll listen to your opinion first.'
'What if I disagree?'
'Then I won't go.'
'Really?'
'Of course!'
Locke smiled. 'I have no secrets from you, Gwen!'
Gwen smiled, pursing her lips. 'Thank you, Locke. But I'm glad you said that.'
Locke said, 'Don't worry. Right now, I just want school to start so I can go to and from school with you, instead of driving you to work every day and then going home alone. It doesn't feel good.'
His High School Academic Super Bowl Competition was just waiting for the fall semester to start, get finalized, and launch its First Season.
That was a guaranteed annual income of at least two hundred thousand points.
This was a Juicy Piece of Meat that had to be secured.
Gwen laughed, turned her head to look at the Osborn Biotech Building outside the window, unbuckled her seatbelt, and kissed Locke.'See you this afternoon.'
Locke smiled as he watched Gwen get out of the car.'See you this afternoon.'
Soon.
Under Locke's watchful eye, Gwen swiped her card and entered the Osborn Biotech Building, which had decent security.
But with just one glance, Locke spotted five vulnerabilities for infiltrating the Osborn Biotech Building.
However, no one would be bold enough to rob the Osborn Biotech Building, right?
Locke chuckled, started the car, turned it around, and headed back toward Starlight Tower.
After a while.
Locke drove the car into a side road, planning to take a shortcut through an alley without surveillance to get back to Starlight Tower. He changed speed, then smoothly shifted to the passenger seat and released his clone.
By the time the clone Locke drove the car back, Locke, wearing sunglasses, had already emerged from a hidden corner where he had just gotten out.
He entered a garage rented with Fake Documents.
Inside, a nearly new audi with Fake License Plates sat quietly.
This was something Locke bought on the Black Market.
After all, he couldn't borrow someone else's car for every mission. What if they needed it urgently?
Locke's greatest strength was his ability to put himself in others' shoes.
Most importantly.
Almost all audis in New York were under NYPD surveillance. This year, every Car Thief who stole one had been caught, without exception.
Without exception!
233. Syndra with a Schedule
So!
Now, in New York City, without a doubt, the safest vehicle is an audi. Almost no car thief dares to target an audi in New York City anymore.
Even if your audi keys are still in the car, with the engine running, and it's parked right in front of a car thief, that thief would act as if they were blind and hadn't seen it.
This also directly led to audi's sales in New York City increasing once again.
Locke felt that he should go ask the audi company for his endorsement fee.
He didn't get a penny in endorsement fees, and he even had to pay out of his own pocket to buy an audi, which was now practically priceless and unavailable on the black market. It was quite surreal.
An hour passed.
Sitting in the car, quietly listening to 'God Is A Girl' on the car CD, Locke, wearing sunglasses, slowly opened his eyes.
The garage slowly opened.
The silver audi slowly drove out of the garage and headed towards the Upper East Side, towards an apartment he had visited before, near the Upper East Side Federal Court.
After all, Locke had been to that African-American Lawyer's apartment once, so he was quite familiar with the way.
"By the way."
On the way there, Locke thought of something and said to himself, "Hey, it's not easy for me to return good for evil for the first time; isn't there going to be a mission?"
As soon as he spoke!
Ding!
Mission generating!
Mission Name: 'Five-Star Good Citizen of New York City!'
Mission Base Rewards: '500 achievement points', '500 potential points'
Mission Bonus Mode: 'Influence!'
Bonus Multiplier: 'Up to 100x!'
Mission Description: 'Think what others think, worry about what others need, the public-spirited and righteous Hero Locke. Now, in New York City, a servant of a demon is stirring. The kind and ignorant masses are about to become food for the demon and its servant. As a Five-Star Good Citizen of New York City, how can you sit idly by while any demon ravages your city?'
Mission Note: 'Dear, remember, in this World, only I understand you. Remember that!!!'
Locke, as usual, looked at the three exclamation marks in the note, and his mouth twitched.
This system hasn't been infected with a virus, has it?
Locke thought so, and then noticed the reward mode for this mission.
Another bonus?
Influence.
He just intended to return good for evil while earning some small points; how did an unexpected surprise pop up?
But... a base of five hundred, with a hundred times influence, that's fifty thousand?
Not bad.
Locke rubbed his chin, and after arriving at his destination, he didn't get out of the car immediately. Instead, he thought about how to do this.
The next second.
Patty Finn.
The name of the star producer of the New York television station and George's ex-girlfriend instantly appeared in Locke's mind.
"Just what I needed."
Locke's eyes lit up: "I heard that the 'exploring the mysterious' program produced by Patty Finn has very high ratings."
Locke hadn't watched this show much.
Because he was already a member of the mystical side. He had only come across it while scrolling through videos, but Gwen had told him about it. After all, it couldn't be talked about at home.
Helen would be jealous.
Locke thought so, took out his satellite phone, scrolled to Patty Finn's number, and dialed it.
After a while.
The call connected.
"Hello?"
"Ms. Finn."
On the other end, Patty Finn, in her office at the New York television station, stood up from her seat upon hearing this strange yet familiar voice.
Her expression was as if she had seen a ghost.
Fortunately, there was no one else in her office, and Patty liked privacy, so she usually kept the office curtains drawn.
But.
Patty walked over to the window at this time, pulled back the curtains to let the sunlight shine on her, and then lowered her voice: "Mr. Peerless?"
Locke chuckled: "It's been a long time, Ms. Finn."
Patty didn't speak.
Locke didn't tease Patty either and asked directly, "Congratulations, Ms. Finn. I heard you've restarted an 'exploring the mysterious' program. If I may be so bold, can I ask how the ratings are?"
Patty gave a bitter laugh: "Mr. Peerless, are you calling to tease me?"
Locke was slightly stunned: "I heard from my friends that they quite like watching it. Why, are the ratings not good?"
Patty shook her head: "The first season was planned for twelve episodes, and this sixth episode is the mid-season finale. I had actually contacted a medium with real mystical powers, but something happened to that medium recently."
This forced her to rush the sixth episode of the previous season into production.
Without a doubt.
It was blasted by everyone.
For federal television stations, ratings are everything. Shows with low ratings are inevitably canceled, even variety shows are no exception.
Locke rubbed his chin, seemingly thinking of something: "Ms. Finn, you wouldn't be talking about that legendary medium from California, Patrick Jane, would you?"
Patty was a bit surprised: "Mr. Peerless knows him too?"
Locke laughed: "You could say that."
He had just seen last month that California's Red John had struck again.
This Red John is very petty.
At the very least, Locke wouldn't go and slaughter someone's whole family overnight just because they said a few things about him on TV before they even finished the show.
This Patrick Jane was on a California TV show last month, said a few things, and was seen by Red John, which led to the tragedy of his family being murdered.
It was very pitiful.
When Locke saw the report at the time, he felt some injustice for Patrick Jane, but he wasn't from California and wasn't familiar with Red John, so he could only do what everyone else did: go online and post a comment of condemnation.
Only... Locke laughed: "Patty, Patrick Jane is not a medium."
Patty on the other end was slightly stunned: "What, he's not? You mean..."
Patty stopped talking.
Whether Patrick Jane was really a medium who could communicate with spirits, she wasn't sure, but she was very sure that Locke had a Witch friend.
Locke laughed and then got to the point: "So, this show is going to be canceled? That's a pity. I was originally thinking of giving you a news story."
Patty's eyes lit up: "Is Mr. Peerless planning to be a guest on our show again?"
"No."
"Ah."
"It's not that I don't want to go, but if you're not afraid of New York Channel One Television Stationfalling into hell, Patty, then I don't object."
"...Hell?"
"Yes."
Locke got out of the car and walked towards the apartment across the street, saying with a smile: "After all, what I have to deal with this time is a mortal servant who has signed a contract with a demon from hell."
Patty's mouth hung open on the other end of the line.
After a long while.
Patty seemed to finally come to her senses.
"Is there really a hell?"
"Of course."
Locke walked up the stairs silently, answering Patty's question with a smile: "If there were no hell, then where would mediums come from? It's just that real mediums are very rare now. You should actually go look for the Mr. and Mrs. Warren."
Patty walked over to the table and wrote down the name of the Mr. and Mrs. Warren directly on a newly printed daily work report she hadn't had time to look at: "Do these Mr. and Mrs. Warren have specific names?"
"Lorraine Warren. She has the Yin-Yang Eye and can see the ghosts and vengeful spirits lingering in the mortal World!"
"Ed Warren. The only Vatican-certified exorcist."
Locke reached the fourth floor and answered Patty's question without minding at all, then said curiously: "They're a couple. I remember they're quite famous. You didn't know?"
Patty said "I'm sorry" on the other end: "I really didn't know."
Locke said: "It's fine, it's normal. These days, those with real talent aren't as famous as the swindlers. Look at me; if it weren't for that damn guy impersonating me, probably at most a third of New York City would know me. Now, I'm afraid more than half the people in the entire federation know my name."
Patty laughed along: "So, Mr. Peerless..."
Locke looked at the Room right in front of him and said, "The New Jersey Water Plant then. However, I don't need too many people there, at least not when we start broadcasting. If something goes wrong and the demon escapes, people will really die. You have an afternoon to set up the scene and release a trailer. I have only one requirement: ratings. Call me when you're ready."
"Wait."
"Hmm?"
"Mr. Peerless, may I ask, will the Witch Lulu appear this time?"
"Huh?"
"Since Mr. Peerless mentioned her once, that Witch Lulu's popularity has been very high."
"...Is that so?"
Locke's mouth twitched. Lulu's home is in Bandle City; how would he know how to invite her?
"Furthermore."
"Even if he could summon Lulu, Locke wouldn't do it."
"In a word."
"He didn't know if he could beat Lulu."
"A level one Lulu would be fine, but what if it's a max-level Lulu? Besides, who knows if he could resist Lulu's Whimsy?"
"What if Lulu thinks he's a bad guy and, once summoned, turns him into something else?"
"Who would Locke cry to then?"
"But..." Locke's eyes flickered.
"Lulu can't come."
"But... it didn't say he didn't have other witches."
"He has a coven, although there's only one Witch in it for now, but Locke believes his coven will expand sooner or later."
"No rush for now."
"He's only seventeen, the future is promising!"
Locke said: "Lulu won't be coming, but another Witch will!"
"Can you give me a name?"
"Of course."
Locke said with a smile: "Syndra, the Dark Sovereign Syndra!"
Patty: "..."
234. The Notice Reappears
For some reason, Patty on the other end of the phone shivered involuntarily when she heard the words Dark Sovereign!
"Lulu is the Fae Sorceress!"
"Syndra is the Dark Sovereign!"
"When it comes to dealing with demons from hell, Syndra is more professional."
Locke listened to Patty, who was breathing slightly heavily on the other end of the phone, and said, then chuckled, "You can go prepare, Patty. I've found that servant. I'll call you again."
After speaking.
Locke hung up the phone directly, not waiting for Patty to say anything.
Yes.
Dark Sovereign!
Locke couldn't bring Lulu over, but Syndra seemed to be able to come out.
It was Carrie.
After all... Locke's bottom line was flexible, but if he were to change his profession to his current strongest identity, Witch, he would never consider it unless it was a life-or-death situation.
But Carrie was different; Carrie was born a Witch.
And it was about time for Carrie to get to know this real World.
Locke thought so, looking at the apartment door in front of him.
"Creak!"
Locke turned the doorknob, slowly pushed the door open, and his gaze shifted downwards, noticing a transparent tripwire behind the door. He chuckled, "You've gotten smarter."
But what was the use?
Locke easily dealt with the tripwire connected to the alarm and entered the apartment.
The air inside was as turbid as ever, even carrying a putrid smell. If one were to simply smell the air in the entire apartment, everyone would probably suspect they had been brought into a coffin that had been there for some time.
However... a demon's servant, if the smell in their home was like the smell of heaven, that would be truly strange, not to mention that the demon Nick Reis sacrificed to was not an ordinary demon.
But a top-tier second-generation demon in the demon circle.
Nightmare!
Locke's recently closed eyes slowly opened. After completing the matching of residual information elements in the apartment, he lowered his head and couldn't help but chuckle, "We meet again, Nightmare."
It wasn't his first time dealing with Nightmare.
The first time he dealt with Nightmare was in Augusta. At that time, Nightmare was trying to trick Carrie into becoming his Witch Carrie, but Locke arrived in time, saved Carrie, and, by the way, made Nightmare roll back to hell to be his eternal Crown Prince.
Unexpectedly, after more than half a year, Nightmare had also come to New York.
Interesting!
Just now, Locke had originally planned to get out of the car when the african-american person Nick Reisreturned, but when he looked at the apartment, his six senses were slightly stirred.
Locke, on a whim, went upstairs to take a look.
Unexpectedly, it was another unexpected surprise.
Coincidence?
Locke didn't believe it was a coincidence. How could an ordinary person summon Nightmare on their first try? Not to mention, Nina Bell only summoned an ordinary evil spirit that couldn't even be considered a bottom-feeder in hell. Nina Bell was from a Voodoo family, and even she was like that. How could an ordinary person have the audacity to directly summon Nightmare?
Unless Nightmare sought him out himself.
That ruled out coincidence. Since it wasn't a coincidence, it was intentional.
What did this guy want to do?
Was he planning to come for revenge?
Locke thought so, but before he could rack his brains or use his cheat, the answer just jumped out and landed right before his eyes.
In the study of the african-american person Nick Reis.
This study couldn't be described as messy, but it was certainly impossible to walk through. Various law books were scattered all over the floor, and even the footprints on them were unusually clear.
Instead, on the desk were a string of occult books emitting a strange odor.
It was the strange smell of something picked out of a trash can or sewer, not the smell that occult items should have.
This was quite surreal.
You, a law student, now have your law books lying on the floor, while the occult, which is completely different from law, is brazenly placed on the desk.
Are you worthy of your ten years of arduous study?
"shit."
Locke, feeling the rather unbearable air in the study, closed off his sense of smell, then walked over to the desk. His eyes fell upon a bundle of cloth, openly rolled up, as if afraid others wouldn't know there was a secret.
He opened it.
Spread on the desk was an equally bizarre oil painting.
The oil painting was covered with strange runes of unknown origin, and the content of the painting was a passage connecting Earth and hell. In that passage, countless demons were rising with bared fangs and brandished claws, seemingly planning a massive invasion of hell.
"Hiss!"
Locke symbolically gasped, then understood, "How barbaric, thinking of turning Earth into a living hell?"
Considering what Nightmare would do in the future, this answer seemed very reasonable.
As long as Mephisto was alive, Nightmare would always be the Crown Prince, but honestly, in Mephisto's eyes, the Crown Prince of hell was no different from any other demon.
Naturally, Nightmare would certainly not be content.
All along, Nightmare had a grand ambition: to establish his own hell.
Usurpation?
Nightmare had thought about it, but ten Nightmares probably wouldn't be enough for one of Mephisto's hands. Moreover, talking about family affection with a demon was as ridiculous as talking about love with a rapist.
So.
Nightmare naturally considered starting his own faction.
But.
How outrageous!
This is our human Earth!
This is intolerable.
Locke's eyebrows furrowed, looking like a righteous Super Hero who, after discovering the great villain's conspiracy to destroy the World, clenched his fists, filled with fighting spirit and indignation.
"This is our human World, demon, you won't..."
Locke said in a low voice, then, halfway through, his mouth twitched, and he waved his hand, "Forget it, that's not my line!"
He wasn't a Super Hero.
At the very least, a Super Hero should have the spirit of facing death as if returning home.
Sorry.
If sacrificing Locke could bring peace to Earth, and if not, Earth would explode, then Locke would only do one thing: the day before Earth exploded, he would rather go into debt to take a spaceship and escape, then watch from afar as Earth was torn in half before him.
However.
This time was different.
He had discovered it, and he had a mission.
Most importantly, if he stood by and did nothing, allowing Nightmare to succeed, what kind of barren land would he be playing on? If Earth became a ghost realm, where would he go to complete quests?
No one valued peace more than Locke.
Peace meant that in the coming years, his guaranteed annual points income could be nearly 500,000 points.
If so many points were lost, even dismembering Nightmare probably wouldn't be enough to compensate him.
"Huh?"
"Wait."
Locke suddenly blinked, staring at the blueprint openly displayed on the desk, not at all worried about others discovering its plan. He shook his head, "So, this time I'm not only repaying kindness with resentment, but I can even say I'm eliminating harm for the people?"
Goodfellas.
This was an accidental discovery.
Locke raised an eyebrow.
The next second.
Locke rolled up the canvas on the desk with his right hand, put it into his inventory, then turned to walk towards the study door. His gaze swept over a wardrobe, ignoring a female corpse tightly sealed in plastic wrap inside. He took out his phone and called Carrie.
This Nick Reis had a girlfriend of the same kind.
But she had been missing for several days.
Clearly.
The corpse wrapped in the interlayer of the wardrobe was Nick Reis's girlfriend.
Under normal circumstances, as a five-star citizen of New York City, Locke would make a call if he found a corpse. But since that guy wouldn't be keeping it overnight anyway, calling George would only complicate matters.
However... Locke drove the car into an underground parking lot of a tall building, stroked his chin, and his eyes flickered slightly.
After a while.
The passenger door opened.
A flash of purple light, and Carrie, who had changed clothes the moment she got in the car, looked at Locke, who was sitting in the driver's seat wearing sunglasses, "Is it really that demon again?"
Locke grunted.
"Where?"
"Now."
Locke started the car and chuckled, "NYPD!"
Carrie: "..."
At the NYPD.
George leaned back in his chair, watching the Assistant District Attorney Nick Reis, who had followed him into the office and immediately started making a fuss.
Nick Reis's reason for coming was simple.
He didn't think last night's case was self-defense, and the NYPD should arrest the Sheldons and recommend a charge of negligent homicide to the District Attorneys Office.
But... George was unmoved. Although he didn't know what was going on with this Nick Reis, he could sense that something was wrong—an old Police Officer's intuition: "Whether or not to hand over the case to the District Attorneys Office is our business."
Nick Reis said, "Then you should do it."
George looked expressionless, raising his head to look at Nick Reis, who was standing in his office and making the air quality in his office somewhat poor, "Are you telling me how to do my job?"
Nick Reis said in a deep voice, "I am the Assistant District Attorney."
George chuckled, "I am the chief inspector of the NYPD. Even your District Attorney wouldn't have the right to speak to me like that, let alone you..."
Before he finished speaking.
Kate Beckett walked in from outside, "George, the Notice has been found!"
George looked up!
235. An accomplice of the Peerless Assassin?
A notification?
At the mention, George instantly felt wide awake, his eyes brightening as he jumped to his feet.
Where?
Here.
Kate Beckett handed George an evidence bag. "Found on a car outside the gate."
...
I'll catch you sooner or later, Peerless Assassin. Keep strutting—one day you'll slip.
George reassured himself, took the bag, and looked at the note inside.
From: Nick Reis!
Crime: Sold his soul!
Sentence: Death!
Executioner: Dark Sovereign!
...
George stared at the name, blinked, and turned to Kate Beckett. "What the hell is this Dark Sovereign?"
Beckett shook her head.
Achoo!
Bless you.
Locke, sitting in the car, instinctively blessed Carrie when she sneezed, then lowered the fan speed. "Coming down with something?"
Carrie shook her head. "Someone said my name."
Locke chuckled. "Probably George just saw the note.
George's resentment could power a city.
Pity.
His energy is limitless, yet he's got no way to harvest that resentment; otherwise George would be my top supplier.
Tsk.
A total weakling, but because he's Gwen's dad I keep letting him off. Honestly, without my mercy someone that clueless wouldn't last five chapters.
Carrie, in the passenger seat, blinked.
Locke smiled. "This time you're the executioner."
Carrie's eyes widened. "I don't get it."
Locke said lightly, "Killing a bad guy now and then is good stress relief."
He paused.
Locke looked at her. "Last week you taught two drug dealers a lesson?"
Carrie nodded. "I didn't expose myself."
Locke replied, "I'm not blaming you. In fact it's great—as long as it's not innocents. If beating them helps your mood, that's the only contribution they'll ever make.
Besides, I still get points.
Expected; if recruiting someone brought zero benefit, why bother?
The reward was only halved.
The penalty quest was supposed to be 200 achievement points and 200 potential points, but since Carrie handled it I only got half. Still, every little bit counts.
Carrie studied Locke, blinking. "Really? I thought you were afraid I'd lose control..."
"Expose myself?"
"Mm?"
"Carrie."
Locke watched George and the officers exit NYPD headquarters. "Know who fears exposure?"
Carrie shook her head.
"The incompetent."
"Uh..."
"Fear of exposure is just fear of the chaos that follows. You don't think I use Peerless because I'm scared, do you?"
"...Aren't you?"
"Haha."
Locke laughed. "I'm just playing a game. Fear means you doubt you can handle what comes after. I don't."
"Likewise,"
Locke told her, "neither do you. Do what feels right to you—enough."
Carrie's eyes flickered; she gave a half-understanding nod.
As long as Locke didn't think her a nuisance, all was well.
That was her thought.
Next second
Carrie asked eagerly, "So what do I do—walk up and chop him?"
She had no love for demons.
Her mother had called her a demon-spawn, a sinner, all her life, and Carrie had believed it, blaming herself and hating demons for it.
Worse, one demon had urged her to sacrifice her own mother for power.
How could she feel anything but hatred?
Locke saw her energy flaring and soothed her. "Not yet. Wait till he shows himself."
Nick Reis had crafted two vengeful spirit dolls, still unfound.
While killing time in the garage Locke had learned the dolls, formed from Mr. and Mrs. Bell's grudges, were gone, yet he'd found no clues in the apartment.
Ms. Patty Finn needed time to set things up at the New Jersey water plant anyway; Locke figured slipping a note might bait the bar-failed, dim-witted Nick Reis into the open.
Besides, it gave George something to do.
Let Peerless Assassin come out and spar with George, lest George pine away from longing for Peerless Assassin.
"Aren't you afraid Nick Reis will get your notice and go into hiding?"
"Not afraid."
Locke shook his head, answering Carrie's question: "There's no breed on this World that, once in power, becomes as cocky and downright crazy as they do."
Before, these people lived miserable lives; now it's like one big orgy, the final bacchanal before extinction.
The last ones who dared be this arrogant were the Jews.
The Jews are still arrogant now, but they almost got wiped out. These days they still strut, only they've learned to do it behind closed doors.
A guy who just tasted power dares lay out a plan for turning Earth into hell right on his desk. If Locke imagines some feint, he'd be overestimating the man's IQ and insulting his own.
Sure enough.
Outside NYPD headquarters.
After Officer George Stacy quickly verified the notice was genuine, he realized one thing.
Peerless Assassin was no longer operating solo.
He was recruiting, and one accomplice had already surfaced.
Dark Sovereign!
George looked around the NYPD building, then—realizing Peerless Assassin could just as easily drop a notice here as kill here—turned to Nick Reis beside him: "You've been marked by Peerless Assassin. From this moment, you go nowhere."
Once the notice is delivered, Peerless Assassin will claim the target within twenty-four hours.
This was a perfect chance.
George thought he could set a trap and let Peerless Assassin walk right into it.
But Nick Reis refused to cooperate; he even laughed at George's words: "Accept your protection? You still don't even know the assassin's name."
A Detective frowned: "What do you mean by that?"
George disliked the man, but he needed him: "Mr. Reis, you're in grave danger. Without us, Peerless Assassin could appear before you at any moment."
"Not necessary."
"What?"
Nick Reis snorted: "You were protecting Barry Wise too—how'd that end? I won't be the next guy your incompetence gets paraded on camera by that white assassin."
"You—"
"Watch your damn mouth!"
"shit, who do you think you are?"
The words ignited several hot-tempered Detectives at once.
Barry Wise.
That junkie.
Special case.
Put simply, no Officer wanted cop-killer Barry Wise left alive—at least not as a human being.
George barked the Detectives down and faced Nick Reis.
However—
Just as George started to speak, Nick Reis walked off, eyeing the Officers blocking him: "Planning to detain an Assistant District Attorney?"
Jason Blout stared at the dark face: "You know, that face of yours is begging to be punched."
"Are you threatening me, Detective Blout? Threatening an ADA?"
"Everyone knows how you got that job."
"..."
Nick Reis looked at the notorious Jason Blout: "I'll remember you, Officer Blout."
Once I deal with that assassin, I'll be sure to pay you a visit.
Just some punk assassin.
He is a servant of Nightmare, crown prince of hell—come if you dare. I lost a toy; an assassin's soul will surely delight my Master.
With that thought, Nick Reis stepped past Jason Blout.
Then—
He got into the car.
And sped away.
Looks like—
He was heading toward Queens.
From afar, Locke watched, then asked Carrie in the passenger seat: "Can you keep up?"
Carrie nodded: "Can I kill him?"
Locke shook his head: "He's probably going to find those two vengeful dolls. Just tail him; he's still useful."
Carrie nodded, opened the door, and stepped out.
Vroom!
The audi braked instantly.
"George..."
"Follow him."
"George, tailing like this—"
George, expressionless, told the ever-fiery Jason: "We're law enforcement. As long as he's a taxpayer, he's who we protect!"
Right then—
A sports car roared.
An audi pulled up at the curb beside NYPD, the passenger window rolling down.
George looked over sharply.
Their eyes met!
236. A Game Before the Great War
Four eyes met!
Flames erupted.
Inside the audi, Locke leaned back in his seat, smiling at George, who was standing by the roadside and happened to be looking over, seemingly frozen for a moment.
George's expression shifted perfectly.
From confusion to shock, then to pleasant surprise, and finally, to tension!
Locke greeted him with a smile, "Hi?"
"Peerless Assas—"
As soon as George spoke, Kate Beckett, who thought someone was trying to assassinate George, had already drawn her gun. A bullet was fired directly toward Locke.
"Bang!"
"Bang!"
"Thud!"
Two bullets collided in mid-air, crushed against each other, and fell!
Locke's lips curled up as he slammed on the gas, roaring off in the direction Nick Reis had just left.
George and the others snapped back to their senses.
"fuck!"
"Get in the car, get in the car!"
"Quick, quick!"
"Notify the traffic police."
"Go, go, go!"
"Wooooh!!!!"
Instantly.
Five police cars and five private cars immediately turned on their sirens. With the sirens wailing, they sped off after Locke, who was already disappearing from their sight.
"All units, attention: the Peerless Assassin is fleeing from west to south, moving from 3rd Avenuetoward 18th Street."
"Fleeing?"
Locke, who was driving, blinked as he heard the voice coming from the walkie-talkie he had swiped from a Police Officer some time ago for emergencies, which was finally coming in handy today.
Where did this "fleeing" come from?
I'm just... taking them for a stroll.
Wasn't I worried that George would get lovesick from chasing me? So, I came out to do some exercise with George, didn't I?
How did this become "fleeing"?
Thinking this, Locke grabbed the walkie-talkie.
"Captain Stacy, I heard you got a promotion, so I came to say hello. Why am I suddenly 'fleeing'?"
"...Officer, the Peerless Assassin is on our—"
"Shut up, I know!"
George's voice came through the walkie-talkie, sounding exasperated: "Damn Peerless Assassin, I'll definitely catch you this time. All Officers, switch to Channel 112."
After saying that.
The walkie-talkie went silent.
But... Locke blinked at George's words.
Channel 112 wasn't a channel number; it was a code, an internal NYPD code.
But Locke was born with a photographic memory, a man with a memory palace. Moreover, Locke felt that he had slept at George's house more times than at Starlight Tower recently. Naturally, how could he not know what Channel 112 was?
So.
Just as George switched channels and breathed a sigh of relief, the Peerless Assassin's voice came through the walkie-talkie again.
"Captain Stacy, your NYPD codes are like the nuclear codes in D.C.—they haven't been changed in ages. I suggest you get a new codebook."
"...Peerless Assassin, you can't run. Scramble the helicopters. I want to see how you slip away from under my nose this time."
"No need."
Locke chuckled, steering with one hand. He performed a magnificent drift through the gap between two police cars ahead. "Want to chase me? I can even tell you my destination: 18th Street. Hurry up, don't let me lose you!"
With that.
Locke tossed the walkie-talkie onto the passenger seat.
"18th Street?"
"George, isn't that the street where Nick Reis's apartment is located?"
"Where is Nick Reis?"
Kate Beckett, in another car, contacted George by phone: "Nick Reis has been spotted at the entrance of Central Park."
George said in a low voice, "Kate, take some people to Central Park and protect Nick Reis."
The executor written on this Notice wasn't the Peerless Assassin.
But the Dark Sovereign?
Without a doubt, George suspected that the Peerless Assassin hadn't appeared out of boredom, but was prepared, acting as a diversion to lure them away.
Kate acknowledged George's orders. At the intersection, several police cars immediately split off. George's police car followed the audi, which seemed intent on drifting from one end of the street to the other, his gaze burning.
Thud-thud-thud!
An NYPD helicopter had already caught up and appeared directly overhead.
This time... Peerless Assassin, I will personally put the handcuffs on you!
George gripped the steering wheel with both hands as the engine roared.
18th Street!
Vroom!
The audi performed a magnificent drift right in front of Nick Reis's apartment building. Locke stepped out of the car, and by the time he was up the steps, the audi, trailing white smoke, sped off with a whoosh.
Locke buttoned his suit jacket, waved at the police cars just pulling up to the curb, and then violently kicked open the apartment door as if he were entering his own home.
He was doing this for the sake of George and the others.
After all, if Locke broke it, the NYPD wouldn't have to pay compensation. But if the NYPD forced entry, they would have to pay for the door's repair.
This proved another point.
The people others love to bully most are often those who like to follow the rules.
Barely thirty seconds after Locke entered the apartment, police cars from both ends of 18th Streetcrowded the entrance like they were pulling into a parking lot.
"Thud!"
"George..."
As soon as the car stopped, George got out and, holding his sidearm with both hands, prepared to charge into the apartment. Fortunately, Jason was quick to pull him back: "The SWAT Team will be here in five minutes."
Was he kidding?
It was one thing for the NYPD to be unable to catch the Peerless Assassin, but it was quite another for a chief inspector to die miserably at his hands under these circumstances.
George, feeling like the Peerless Assassin was mocking him to his face, regained some of his senses after being pulled back by Jason.
But... George didn't quite understand.
If the Peerless Assassin was doing this as a diversion, why choose this apartment? Wasn't he just asking to be caught like a rat in a trap?
"Wait."
George stood with his hands on his hips, watching the residents being evacuated from the apartment building in an orderly and practiced manner under the direction of the police. He wiped his face and looked at Jason: "Where's Nick Reis's Notice?"
Jason took the Notice out of an evidence bag and handed it to George.
George took it and looked.
Crime: Selling one's soul!
"What kind of hellish crime is this?"
"Ring, ring!"
George frowned at the crime listed on the Notice, then took out his phone. Seeing the caller ID, he answered, his expression softening slightly: "Gwen, what's wrong?"
Gwen, still at the Osborn Biotech Building, said, "Dad, did you see the news on New York Channel One?"
"What?"
"Aunt Patty Finn's 'exploring the mysterious' has released a trailer. I felt it might be related to the Peerless Assassin again, so I'm letting you know."
"I see."
George frowned, hung up, and directly dialed Patty Finn's private number.
Although he had told Helen last time that he didn't have Patty Finn's number saved.
But... he was telling the truth; he had memorized Patty Finn's number, so there was no need to save it in his phone.
However?
George frowned as the phone kept ringing without anyone answering.
At the New York television station.
Ms. Patty Finn looked at the vibrating phone in her hand. After a moment's thought, she opened a drawer and tossed the phone inside.
Sorry, George. Although I'd love to answer your call, this is work. You said it yourself: work is work, and life is life. I'm sure you won't blame me.
Ms. Patty Finn thought to herself. Besides, this seemed like another opportunity. After tonight, she could use an apology as an excuse to ask George out for a meal as a peace offering.
Yes, not a date, but a peace offering.
Ms. Patty Finn's lips curled up. Years ago, she had been careless and someone had stolen her man, but she was confident she could win him back.
The vibrating phone only lasted for two minutes.
Because the SWAT Team had arrived.
As the NYPD SWAT Team arrived, George was already putting on a bulletproof vest.
The SWAT Captain saw this and opened his mouth: "Officer..."
George looked up directly: "The Peerless Assassin is mine."
The SWAT Captain saw the fire in George's eyes, swallowed hard, and waved his hand, signaling the heavily armed SWAT members behind him to begin the assault.
Soon.
George and the SWAT Captain each placed a hand on the shoulder of a SWAT member holding a riot shield and gave the order.
"Go, go, go!"
"Go, go!"
"Go!"
Instantly.
Two SWAT members with riot shields led the way into the apartment building, then quickly advanced up the stairs toward the floor where Nick Reis's apartment was located.
Locke yawned at the door of Nick Reis's home. He was getting bored from waiting when he finally saw George and the others moving as slowly as turtles. "Too slow, Captain Stacy."
With that.
Locke slipped inside Nick Reis's home.
Three seconds later.
George's voice came from outside the door: "Peerless Assassin, surrender."
Locke tossed a written note onto the coffee table and looked up at the words. "Then come in. I thought there would be hostages here. What a pity."
George exchanged a look with the SWAT Captain.
The next second.
Boom!
The apartment door was blasted open by a battering ram.
The battering ram was dropped with a heavy clang after use.
But just then.
Thud.
A round, black object was tossed out from the room.
George and the others watched the object roll on the floor.
Their eyes widened in shock!
237. Locke, Misunderstood Once Again
It wasn't a grenade!
Even if Locke wanted to send George to Hell to spend his golden years, he wouldn't be so insane as to use a grenade to do it.
That would be unkind.
He guaranteed George would go silently, without any pain or itching.
This was just a two-in-one smoke and flashbang disguised as a grenade.
"Bang!"
"Ah!"
"shit!"
"Flashbang."
"Block the door, don't let the Peerless Assassin escape."
"Understood."
"Cough, cough, cough!"
A moment of chaos ensued. Fortunately, the effect of this flashbang was dampened and wouldn't cause any harm to a person's retinas. If it had been a real one, the Police Officers facing it directly might have been permanently blinded.
But the smoke that followed was the real deal.
By the time George led six SWAT Team members through the tears and snot to storm the apartment and opened his eyes, he found that the Peerless Assassin had vanished without a trace.
"WTF?"
George squinted his slightly reddened eyes, staring at a note on the coffee table right in front of him that said 'Goodbye'. He adjusted his earpiece: "Jason."
Jason, who was downstairs at the apartment building, heard George's call: "Officer."
"Did anyone run out?"
"What?"
"The Peerless Assassin escaped. Did anyone run out?"
"...No!"
Jason saw the looks from several Officers stationed around the apartment and quickly said, "Our men have the perimeter secured. It's impossible for anyone to have escaped right under our noses."
George took a deep breath, glanced at the SWAT Team Captain calling him over to the study, and said directly, "Then he's still inside this apartment building. Search it, door to door."
In fact...
Ancestor Locke had walked right out the back door under the noses of the police. After all, with his Concealment Technique, even an empty house wouldn't be a problem, let alone the fact that an assassin's required courses included making a getaway.
But... George didn't know that.
Inside the study.
Two SWAT Team members had already pulled an object tightly wrapped in plastic wrap out of that cabinet.
There was no doubt.
It was a human-shaped object.
"Open it."
"Yes, sir."
The two SWAT members exchanged a glance and then began removing the thick layers of plastic wrap. They had expected a strong, pungent odor to burst out, but in reality, even after they had completely removed the wrap, there wasn't the slightest smell.
This corpse wasn't a mummy, but it looked very much like one.
The pupils were dilated, the expression was one of terror, and all the body's fat and blood seemed to have been drained by something.
If someone saw this at night, the visual impact would be quite intense.
"Hmm?"
A SWAT member seemed to see something sticking halfway out of the mummy's pocket. He pulled it out—it was a driver's license—and stood up to hand it to George: "Officer."
George took it.
In the photo, a Black woman was showing two rows of large teeth, smiling in a way that felt quite eerie.
"This is..."
"Nick Reis's fiancée."
George answered the SWAT Captain's question, looked up, and then walked out of the study. "A few days ago, Nick Reis reported her missing to the local precinct. Who would have thought she was in his home."
As he spoke.
George walked over to the coffee table in the apartment living room, reached out, and picked up the note Locke had left behind.
The front said 'Goodbye'.
On the back was a line of text.
'Without me, how long would it have taken you to find this poor soul?'
It seemed to be a question.
But in George's eyes, it was a blatant mockery.
"Kate?"
"Officer, did you catch him?"
"Where is Nick Reis?"
Kate Beckett, standing at the entrance to Central Park, stared from a distance at Nick Reis, who seemed to have chosen to picnic here like everyone else, with only his back visible from behind a large tree. She spoke into the phone to George: "Still in Central Park."
George said in a low voice, "Arrest him."
Kate was slightly stunned.
Although George really didn't want to say it, he said, "The Peerless Assassin led us to Nick Reis's home and we found this guy's fiancée. She's dead."
They had entered Nick Reis's home to capture the Peerless Assassin. The evidence found during that time, though obtained without a search or arrest warrant, could still be used as legal evidence.
However.
George suddenly became a bit worried.
The Peerless Assassin was a lover of vigilante justice. He couldn't be so kind as to throw evidence of a criminal in front of him, or even intend for him to arrest the criminal.
If that were the case, then there was no doubt that this Peerless Assassin definitely intended to give the NYPD another show of force, just like with that cop-killer Barry Wise before.
Just then.
An exclamation came from the other end of the phone.
George's heart skipped a beat. "Kate, what's wrong?"
In New York's Central Park.
Kate held a suit jacket propped up by a tree branch, looked around at her subordinates who were quickly dispersing to search the area, and said in a low voice, "Nick Reis isn't here."
George closed his eyes.
As expected.
A diversion?
George took a deep breath. "Have someone check the surveillance in Central Park."
"Yes, sir."
"Wait."
George thought for a moment and said again, "Issue an alert to all law enforcement agencies in New York City, especially the airports and ports. Fast!"
It had now been proven that Nick Reis's movements were suspicious.
What if Nick Reis, upon seeing that his notice had been issued, felt that his secret was out? Especially now with news helicopters filming here, Nick Reis would know exactly what was about to happen to him, so he might choose to flee on his own.
Suddenly, George seemed to understand why Nick Reis had refused their protection after seeing the notice.
And... why the Peerless Assassin had played this scene with him.
The Peerless Assassin had calculated that Nick Reis wouldn't request NYPD protection. He even knew that once the media exposure chased him to his apartment, the latter would choose to evade the NYPD's eyes on his own, only to walk right into a trap, like a silly deer wandering into the Peerless Assassin's snare.
"Bang!"
After George realized this and understood he had been used by the Peerless Assassin once again, he punched the wall: "fuck!"
Locke felt he was being treated unfairly.
God... no.
He even dared to swear in Gwen's name that from beginning to end, he had been considering things from George's perspective.
Locke hadn't intended to get involved in this matter.
But... regardless, this Black guy was an Assistant District Attorney. If an ADA were to be taken away by him so openly, even though George was now high-ranking and wouldn't be the one scapegoated if things went wrong...
Still, this was a case.
And it was a case involving an Assistant District Attorney. George would still get credit for it. Although Locke knew that expecting George to let Peerless go was a pipe dream, at the very least, keeping George from wandering around outside all the time was ultimately a good thing.
It was the same sentiment.
George could die, but he couldn't kick the bucket before Little Spider was even born.
If that happened... Locke felt his face would be swollen from the irony. Before he came, George had managed to live until Little Spider was born, but after he arrived, Goodfellas, George died ahead of schedule.
Who would that be insulting?
Most importantly, Locke's sixth sense told him that New York City seemed to be getting less and less peaceful lately.
A block away from the apartment, Locke dialed Carrie's number.
As for that audi?
His clone had already driven it away, lost the tail, and driven it back.
After all, he had paid real gold and silver for that car. If he could avoid giving it to the NYPD for nothing, it was better not to.
"Carrie."
Locke stood by the roadside, listening for the sound of an audi, and asked Carrie as she picked up: "Where is he?"
Carrie, also disguised to look like Syndra, sat in a taxi and watched a taxi ahead of her: "Over by the George Washington Bridge."
Locke gave an 'en' of acknowledgement.
Nick Reis had indeed left on his own.
When Locke led George and the others to burst into Nick Reis's apartment, Nick Reis—who had just dug up those two dolls from Central Park—received an alert from his apartment's security system.
Then, Nick Reis knew that the Peerless Assassin knew everything.
Although Nick Reis thought to himself that if the Peerless Assassin dared to come, he would use the power bestowed by his Master to kill him, that was supposed to be done quietly.
The task his Master had given him had only just begun.
But when he noticed through the surveillance that SWAT had entered his study, Nick Reis understood that this matter could not be resolved quietly.
He had to flee now.
Damn George Stacy.
Damn Peerless Assassin.
You just wait. Once I get that voodoo compendium, I will let you know who is the most loyal servant of the Master of this World.
Sitting in the taxi, holding a plastic bag and instructing the Taxi Driver to head towards New Jersey, Nick Reis thought to himself.
Just then.
On the taxi's radio, a station reporter from New York Daily seemed to have received the news.
"According to news just received, the NYPD has issued a warrant for Assistant District Attorney Nick Reis. Evidence shows that Nick Reis has a major criminal suspicion regarding the disappearance of his fiancée some time ago..."
"Hey, buddy, is he talking about you?"
"..."
The Black guy driving the car had his eyes light up. He laughed loudly and looked at Nick Reis in the passenger seat, and then, with a'shua' sound, he saw Nick Reis looking at him with an expressionless face and eyes that had turned pitch black.
Following behind, Carrie's expression changed slightly as she watched the taxi in front suddenly start swerving on the road as if the driver were drunk.
The power of Hell...
238. Carrie's Debut
The taxi swayed and swerved wildly.
The driver showed off his skills.
"What the fuck!"
The black driver, with one hand, struggled to control the steering wheel, while with the other, he tried to swat away the hands gripping his neck. "Damn n*gger, what are you doing?!"
Nick Reese remained silent, the blackness in his eyes growing denser, and dark energy seemed to emanate from his entire body.
The next second.
The black driver's mouth opened wide.
Nick Reese leaned forward, opening his own mouth, and instantly, countless black mists, like garbage being dumped, poured into the black driver's wide-open mouth.
The black driver became dazed.
But soon, he was no longer dazed; he had become a zombie.
"Drive."
Nick Reese returned to the passenger seat, calming the excitement from using his power. He looked at the black driver in the driver's seat, whose expression was dazed and eyes were completely white. "Out of the city."
The black driver said nothing, nodding like a zombie, and then stomped on the accelerator.
The taxi was back on the road.
Carrie, in the taxi behind, said to Locke on the phone, "Is that… Witches' Heart Demon's power?"
"Yes, I'll be right there."
"…Okay."
Locke hung up the phone, his right hand flashing. The Peerless Divine Weapon appeared instantly, whizzing through the air, and then he threw it towards the roadside nearby.
"Crack! Crack!"
As the Peerless Divine Weapon fell through the air, it began to shift and undulate like liquid. When it landed on the ground, it transformed into a golden, flashy Audi, much like a certain Lantern changing into a sports car, settling steadily on the ground. "Vroom!"
The powerful engine roared.
Locke unbuttoned his suit, opened the car door, and got in. Then, like a golden lightning bolt, he sped towards the George Washington Bridge.
A Golden Legend-tier Peerless Divine Weapon could transform into a sports car, or even a plane.
Boom!
The golden Audi drove at a normal speed through an intersection. The color of the Audi attracted the attention of three traffic police officers at the intersection.
"An Audi."
"Peerless?"
"That's golden."
An old traffic police officer yawned. "The Peerless Assassin likes silver Audis, both high-profile and low-key."
A young traffic police officer cautiously asked, "Then, should we report it to headquarters?"
"No need!" The old traffic police officer shook his head. "The Peerless Assassin is already trapped in the apartment. Even if he escapes, it has nothing to do with us. But if we report it, those guys will definitely be happy to let us take the blame, understand?"
When something happens, finding a way to fix it is not the federal tradition.
Passing the buck is.
After a while.
Carrie, who had just gotten out of the taxi and saw a golden Audi approaching from a distance, opened the passenger door, got in, and pointed to the road ahead. "He went that way."
Locke hummed in acknowledgment.
Even without the tracking card, he could now pinpoint Nick Reese, who had sold his soul to the Witches' Heart Demon, using his keen sixth sense.
Carrie frowned. "So, he sold himself to the Witches' Heart Demon?"
Carrie only knew that Nick Reese had sold himself to a demon from hell. Locke hadn't told her it was the Witches' Heart Demon, but Carrie had dealt with the Witches' Heart Demon herself, so after feeling the power of hell, she immediately connected it to the Witches' Heart Demon.
Locke nodded. "Yes."
"Who did he sacrifice?"
"Probably his whole family."
"…"
Locke glanced at Carrie, smiling. "Not everyone is as kind as you. For some people, whoever provides for them is their mother. But demons from hell don't care for such people; only the lowest-tier evil spirits would."
So, the Witches' Heart Demon single-handedly lowered the prestige of all hellish demons.
No wonder the Witches' Heart Demon was unpopular in hell.
Even the ladies in San Fernando Valley knew that if they acted with certain types, their appearance fees would plummet.
Soon.
Locke caught up with the taxi that had just crossed the George Washington Bridge.
Carrie looked at it with some curiosity. "Where is he going?"
"He's probably planning to drive all the way to Mexico," Locke said, looking at a familiar destination that the taxi ahead seemed to be heading towards. Then he stepped on the accelerator. "Alright, this is as far as you go."
Any further, and it would be the textile… no, the newly opened pharmaceutical factory.
Boom!
The golden Audi shot out like a sharp sword.
The next second.
"Thud!"
"Ah!"
"Fuck!"
The golden Audi, like an enraged bull, directly slammed into the yellow taxi in front. The sudden impact caused Nick Reese, who was in the passenger seat, to hit the dashboard, his forehead turning red.
Nick Reese turned his head to look behind the car.
The golden Audi was extremely dazzling.
"Hi!"
"Fuck!"
Nick Reese watched the person in the golden Audi wave at him, and then, suddenly, a black gun barrel extended out of the window. His temper flared up again.
"Bang!"
"Bang!"
One shot each, the taxi's left and right front wheels came off, and then the front of the car dropped to the ground with a thud. The taxi instantly became airborne, flipping twice in the air, and then, with a crash, it heavily landed on the only small path that originally led to the textile factory.
The golden Audi stopped steadily.
Locke and Carrie got out of the car, one on each side.
Not far away.
Several members of the Assassin Brotherhood also rushed out of what was formerly the textile factory, now a pharmaceutical factory. They looked at the overturned taxi, then their gaze fell upon Locke and Carrie.
The assassins' expressions changed.
Just then.
"Stand down!"
Rosa, who knew Locke and had followed his suggestion to buy the textile factory castle, walked over from behind. She said this to the assassins, then hugged Locke and introduced him to them: "Peerless, he's also one of our Brotherhood members."
The assassins exchanged glances.
Rosa said to Locke, "These are also assassins found within the last year using bloodline regression."
Locke nodded.
Callum Lynch and Rosa both had their ancestors' memories recovered through bloodline regression. It was normal for this technology to remain after dismantling the Templar organization.
Rosa then looked at Carrie next to him.
Locke also introduced, "This is…"
"Dark Sovereign!"
"…"
Carrie was curious internally, but her facial expression remained cold as she looked at Rosa.
Locke also looked at Rosa curiously. "How did you know?"
Rosa chuckled. "New York's Channel One released a preview; we all watched it. Oh, by the way, can I come watch it live?"
Locke chuckled. "Of course."
What's the big deal?
Rosa's Assassin Brotherhood was also part of his plan to incorporate them. It was just that the Brotherhood currently only had a few members, and their leader, Callum Lynch, who claimed he wasn't Magneto, was still overseas. Plus, Locke's main focus was school right now, so he hadn't acted yet.
Just then.
A commotion came from inside the overturned taxi.
Two coughs.
The passenger door was pushed open from the inside, and then Nick Reese, covered in dust, emanating black mist like a ghoul from hell, crawled out.
At the same time.
There was also the zombie, whose arm was broken and bloody, but who seemed to feel no pain. After crawling out of the driver's door, it roared and lunged at Locke and the others.
Locke didn't even look. "Syndra."
Carrie, beside him, directly extended her right hand towards the black driver, who was exposing his completely rotted large black teeth and white eyeballs, like a zombie.
"Buzz!"
A dark orb condensed directly in Carrie's right hand, and then slammed into the zombie. "Bang!"
The dark orb landed on the zombie, acting like a tiny black hole, and with a whoosh, it twisted and devoured the zombie without making a sound.
Ding!]
Daily Evil Eradication Mission: "Achievement Points * 200", "Potential Points * 200"]
Locke raised an eyebrow.
Carrie getting a hundred points for punishing a drug dealer, and twice that for this one?
Locke stroked his chin.
He had a bold idea.
The "shepherd" mission-farming method.
But… Locke's thought quickly dismissed it. This method seemed like it could farm a lot, but it was too time-consuming. Besides, Carrie wasn't a robot. If he had that much free time, he would have already made it up with school assignments.
"Don't move!"
Carrie looked at Nick Reese, who was exuding a hellish aura, and directly condensed three dark orbs, aiming them at him, her expression cold. "Don't even think about summoning your master."
Nick Reese, holding a Winnie the Pooh doll in each hand, gulped, staring at the dark orb right next to his face.
The next second.
"Thud!"
Nick Reese instantly tilted his head back, a dark orb smacking directly into his face, making his head ring before he fainted backward with a crash. "Boom!"
He landed on the ground like a dead dog, kicking up dust.
Locke put away the two Winnie the Pooh-shaped vengeful spirit dolls, then looked at Rosa, who was dressed as usual in a medieval assassin outfit. "You're leaving, is the factory side alright?"
Rosa smiled. "It's fine. Lynch is coming back in a few days anyway."
Locke nodded. "Then let's go."
With that.
Locke picked up Nick Reese, put him in the trunk, then told Rosa the location, and then called Patty Finn.
Everything was ready, the show could begin…