Ch: 301-308
301, American Horror Story Season 3
New Orleans.
A city where mystery outweighs modern technology.
Located in the southern part of the Federation, New Orleans—the name itself suggests a strong connection to France.
In fact,
New Orleans is one of the few cities that not only has ties to witches, but also to werewolves, vampires, and even sorcerers, and still retains voodoo practices.
Once upon a time, in an era of ambition, enslaved people from the African continent continuously arrived at the port of New Orleans, before being transported to various parts of the Federation.
At that time, Africa was known for its voodoo arts.
Naturally,
To successfully capture those who tried to resist with voodoo, vampires, werewolves, and witches, busy making money in the human world, followed the enslaved people to New Orleans.
Basically, any supernatural ability that set foot in the Federation started in New Orleans and then spread out from there.
It's even said that to this day, vampires and werewolves still exist in New Orleans, and the widely accepted secret is that New Orleans attracts tourists with its unique charm, becoming a food source for vampires.
Just like the rules for vampires in New York.
However, Locke hasn't encountered any New York vampires yet; it seems they always avoid him when he's around.
That's quite mysterious.
And here in New Orleans?
Vroom!
A silver-white Audi had already left New Orleans and was speeding towards its destination, Lake Maurepas, like a silver-white lightning bolt.
Inside the car,
Locke called Gwen to let her know he was safe, then hung up and looked at Carrie, who was sitting in the passenger seat: "I thought there would be a lot of vampires and werewolves in New Orleans."
Carrie looked at Locke: "There aren't?"
Locke shook his head: "Not that there aren't, but very few, and the scent is a bit different."
Carrie opened her mouth.
"Scent?"
"Mhm."
"..."
Locke noticed Carrie's increasingly strange expression, realized, and explained: "I'm talking about the smell, not the taste. I haven't eaten vampires or werewolves."
Carrie's eyelids twitched: "Still..."
What, are you really planning to taste vampires or werewolves if you get the chance?
If Carrie hadn't known Locke for so long, she probably would have thought he was a psychopath.
Wait.
Is Locke one?
Carrie felt a moment of bewilderment, then confusion.
After speaking, Locke's gaze returned to the road ahead.
He records those scents and characteristics based on what he sees, hears, and feels.
But... Locke had only seen one vampire, and it felt like a mutated one. He hadn't seen any genuine, proper vampires that were afraid of garlic and mercury.
Mavis?
Mavis isn't a proper vampire; she's the daughter of a vampire and a witch. To put it this way, Mavis's bat form isn't from vampire abilities, but from her inherited witch power.
From a certain perspective, Mavis isn't even afraid of sunlight, but she doesn't seem to know it at all.
In short... if they were Diamond Vampires, Locke would be very familiar with their scent, but here in New Orleans, the scent was similar to the vampire-like scent he'd encountered in New York City.
The reason it's called'similar' is because Locke hasn't actually seen any New York City vampires. Again, the New York City vampires, even if they see Locke himself, always go out of their way to avoid him.
"Never mind."
Locke smiled and looked at Carrie beside him: "It shouldn't involve those bats."
His main focus for earning points is still in the ordinary world. If he can avoid supernatural tasks, there's no need to go there. After all, one is an overwhelming victory, and the other is a smooth ride; choosing between them isn't a problem.
After a while,
Locke slowly pulled the car over to the side of the road.
Opening the door,
Locke took off his glasses, which weren't from the system, and curiously watched the crowds of people bustling like a market, heading towards Lake Maurepas.
"What's this... for?"
"A witch trial."
"What?"
Carrie, standing by the passenger door, heard this and couldn't help but look in the direction of the voice, then saw a woman standing next to Locke.
The woman wasn't the point; the witch was the point.
Is this person a witch?
Locke glanced at the woman who spoke, smiled slightly, and extended his hand: "Locke Broughton. This is my sister, Carrie."
Cordelia Foxx shook Locke's hand: "Foxx, Cordelia Foxx."
"So..."
Cordelia looked at Locke curiously: "Mr. Broughton, are you and your sister not here for the witch trial gathering?"
Locke shook his head: "No."
To be honest,
Cordelia smiled: "If you're not here for the witch trial gathering, then few outsiders come here, especially New Yorkers."
Locke raised an eyebrow: "I'm not a New Yorker."
"Oh."
"I'm from Texas, madam."
Locke made a gesture of tipping his cowboy hat.
You're from New York, your whole family is.
New Yorker?
These days, besides New Yorkers proudly calling themselves New Yorkers, who else cares to be called that?
I'm from the great state of Texas, the Lone Star State.
Texas Lone Star Cowboy!
The birthplace of great cowboys, a place where demons and contracts traverse, a mysterious land blessed by the Lone Star.
Of course,
Saying this actually had a tiny bit of other intention.
If the legends of New Orleans were about witches, vampires, and werewolves, then the legends of Texas were about demons, evil spirits, and hell.
What does New York have?
Probably not even a single hair.
Cordelia Foxx looked at Locke, who had just tipped his cowboy hat, and was slightly taken aback: "Really, you're from Texas?"
"Yes."
"Alright, my mistake."
Cordelia said so, she suspected Locke's words had an underlying meaning, but she had no proof.
However... it's good that they aren't here for the witch trial.
Cordelia thought to herself, smiled at Locke and Carrie, said, "I hope you have a good time," and then left on her own.
After a while,
Locke drove into the small town, found a coffee shop that had been open for some years, and took a seat by the window.
Through the window, he could clearly see the continuous stream of people heading towards Lake Maurepas, seemingly going to attend some witch gathering.
Just then,
The coffee shop owner came over to ask Locke what he wanted to order.
After ordering two coffees and a box of pastries, Locke looked at the owner and curiously asked some questions.
The owner looked at Locke and Carrie.
Then... "Out-of-towners?"
"Yes."
"Just arrived, right?"
"...That's right."
"No wonder. From New York, I suppose."
"..."
Locke and Carrie looked at each other, confirming that no one had put any labels on their faces. Cordelia Foxx earlier also seemed to have instantly known their origin.
But Cordelia is a witch, so it's understandable.
But this owner?
Is she cheating?
The owner looked at Locke's expression, smiled, and pointed to the Audi parked outside the window: "That's your car, right?"
Locke looked at the owner with a somewhat bewildered expression and nodded.
What does the car have to do with New York? Audis are sold all over the Federation, not just in New York City.
The next second,
The owner smiled: "Peerless Assassin!"
For some reason, Locke felt like he understood.
The owner then said that since January of this year, the number of New Yorkers driving Audis, or renting Audis for self-driving tours to New Orleans, seemed to have increased.
And as residents of a third-tier tourist town, knowing which visitors are from big cities and can be 'fleeced' is a mandatory skill.
Naturally, Audi, influenced by New York, made it onto the list.
As for why this happened,
Perhaps those New Yorkers in New York City thought that an Audi, whether locked or not, wouldn't be stolen there, and it should be similar outside of New York City.
But the harsh reality taught them to reassess.
Carrie pursed her lips, smiling as she looked at the joking owner: "Boss, you're not going to 'fleece' us, are you?"
I advise you to be kind, boss lady.
The owner smiled: "My coffee shop has been open for almost thirty years. Besides regulars, who else comes here? However, if you're going to Lake Maurepas, it's best to hire a local guide."
"Why?"
"Without a local to lead the way, you'll get lost in the forest."
The owner seemed to rarely have out-of-town tourists here, so she opened up: "Don't even talk about you; even for us locals, if a few people accidentally go in, they won't come out. Legend has it that Lake Maurepas swallows people."
Carrie was slightly stunned: "No way."
Locke also looked at the owner curiously: "I did some research when I came, and I didn't find anything peculiar."
The owner looked at Locke: "You researched the modern Lake Maurepas. Do you know the origin of Lake Maurepas?"
Locke shook his head.
"Legend has it..."
The owner paused here, looked at Locke, and smiled: "We also have a new cake in our shop that's quite good. Would you like to try it while I tell you the story?"
Locke was a bit speechless, but still nodded: "Of course."
Smart!
The owner thought to herself, then looked at Locke and Carrie and said: "This matter, to tell you the truth, is related to the witch trial gathering you saw when you first came in."
With that,
at Locke's expense, the owner began to explain the origin of this so-called witch trial gathering.
"Have you heard of the Salem Witch Trials?"
Chapter 302: Witch Hunter Group
The Salem Witch Trials!
It happened in 1692 in the town of Salem, Massachusetts, in the Federation. Over twenty witches were discovered there, and just like in Europe, they were tried and burned alive.
The story is very bloody.
The scenes are very cruel.
In fact, during that era when "Witch hunting" was prevalent, whether or not you were actually a Witchdidn't matter. What mattered was whether the Witch Hunter believed you were one.
And here in New Orleans... The proprietress pointed to several men in their fifties carrying a flagpole, preparing to enter the forest. "Look, do you see that man holding a sharp sword?"
Locke and Carrie followed the proprietress's finger and nodded.
"Jim."
The proprietress said, "Jim Rhode, a Witch Hunter from Lake Lyre. Next to him is Fox, the security guard of Lake Lyre."
Locke raised an eyebrow.
"Fox?"
Why did this surname sound a bit familiar?
Locke thought of Cordelia, whom he had seen on the road earlier and who also seemed to have the surname Fox.
"Cordelia Fox?"
"You saw Cordelia?"
"Yeah."
"Cordelia is considered Rhodes Fox's daughter-in-law."
"..."
A Witch whose father-in-law is a Witch Hunter?
Does that make sense?
No.
He should probably be considered a cemetery caretaker for buried witches?
According to the proprietress, when the Salem Witch Trials were happening, there were also many stories of Witch trials here at Lake Lyre. Back then, the bodies of the witches who were tried were all thrown into Lake Lyre.
Every now and then, some bones and such still surface.
However, the locals have long since grown used to it, let alone reporting it to the police.
But this made it even more suspicious.
Locke looked at Carrie sitting opposite him. Clearly, Carrie blinked upon hearing this answer.
The proprietress smiled and said, "Ever since Cordelia found out Fox was the caretaker of Lake Lyre, she has tried to persuade him to change professions more than once, but it never worked. However, I heard that Cordelia and Fox's son, Hank Fox, have already separated."
Don't think only middle-aged women in China like to gossip.
Those in the U.S. are no exception.
In fact...
Within a short ten minutes, Locke had already clearly understood who the so-called Witch Huntersmentioned by the proprietress were.
Soon.
The proprietress contentedly took Locke's hundred U.S. dollars and left with the tray.
Carrie watched the proprietress's movements and looked at Locke. "She doesn't plan on giving you change?"
Locke smiled. "Apparently not."
Carrie turned her head to look at the proprietress, who claimed not to overcharge customers but ended up being more ruthless than anyone. She was somewhat speechless.
She's going to die, isn't she?
Carrie felt a moment of silent mourning for the proprietress in her heart.
But... Locke caught Carrie's look and chuckled. "I'm not that irritable."
He wouldn't judge someone as guilty and then kill them just for a hundred U.S. dollars.
At the very least, it would have to start at two hundred U.S. dollars.
Locke thought to himself.
He stood up.
Locke said goodbye to the proprietress, saying he and Carrie were going for a stroll by Lake Lyre, and hoped she would let him park the car at the entrance for a while.
The proprietress naturally agreed to this request. After all, she had made a hundred U.S. dollars off less than thirty U.S. dollars' worth of snacks; frankly, she felt a bit embarrassed.
They went out the door.
Locke and Carrie happened to see a group of travelers who, seeing people heading towards Lake Lyretogether, directly followed along.
Carrie asked in a low voice, "What should we do?"
Locke thought for a moment. "Let's see. We'll try the normal way first."
They were in an unfamiliar place.
Going the hard way was an option, but as soon as he and Carrie arrived, the Witch Hunters here would face a terminal crisis. No matter how you looked at it, it seemed like asking for trouble.
Besides.
If he really wanted to use force, Locke wouldn't have asked George for his connections in New Orleans.
Killing someone is a crime.
And crimes need to be punished by the law.
So... Locke planned to let the law punish the bad guys this time.
Locke said to Carrie, "If the civil way doesn't work, then we'll let Syndra come."
I'm trying to talk law with you, but if you don't want it, then don't blame me for not being nice.
Carrie was silent for a moment and then nodded.
Lake Lyre wasn't far from the small town where Locke and Carrie were staying, but the forest paths were a bit difficult to walk. It took about an hour to reach the outskirts of Lake Lyre.
But even if they wanted to go inside, they couldn't.
"Why?"
"Lake Lyre is the property of our Leka Town. Out-of-towners can only enter when we open it in June and July. Sorry, you can't go in."
"..."
Several couples, like Locke, who intended to follow the crowd in to take a look, were turned away.
But this didn't dampen the crowd's mood for watching the show.
If they couldn't enter Lake Lyre, they could go to the surrounding cliffs; standing high allowed them to see far.
Locke and Carrie found a spot and watched the groups gathered at Lake Lyre.
Some of them were splashing some kind of liquid on themselves.
Is this some kind of ritual?
Carrie frowned, watching the groups who seemed almost possessed, and asked a soul-searching question: "Aren't they cold?"
Even without channeling her magic, she felt a chill.
These people were bare-chested; they weren't Russians, so why were they acting like big bears?
Locke smiled. "Maybe this is what people with faith are like."
"What faith?"
Carrie looked at Locke curiously, then thought of something and said, "Is hunting witches their faith?"
Locke shrugged. "Some believe in God, some believe in Satan, and they believe in hunting witches—it's their 'freedom' of belief."
"Witch trials are persecution!"
As a Witch herself, Carrie naturally didn't want to hear such things and defended them: "Witch trials were nothing more than a giant lie fabricated by Christianity to maintain the Pope's power."
She paused.
Carrie seemed a bit lacking in confidence. "That's what the history textbooks say."
It couldn't be helped.
If Carrie had dared to say this before following Agatha Harkness, then after systematically learning about Witch history from her, saying it now clearly lacked conviction.
But... Carrie whispered in a voice only Locke and she could hear, "Those were black witches who sacrificed their souls to hell. There are bad people among humans too."
Locke said, "Humans fear but crave power they cannot control. For them, destruction is far easier than creation. Therefore, human history is a history of war."
If I can't have it, I'll destroy it!
This was a law written deep within the human soul.
Carrie opened her mouth to speak.
Just then.
Carrie saw a woman she had encountered before walking up from behind Locke.
Cordelia.
Locke looked at the approaching Cordelia, a flash of surprise crossing his face, and then greeted her like a gentleman: "We meet again, Ms. Fox."
Cordelia glanced at Locke and Carrie, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes as well. After a greeting, she looked at Locke with a smile. "Didn't Mr. Broughton say he wasn't interested in this Witch trial gathering?"
Locke smiled. "I'm still not interested."
Cordelia's expression remained unchanged, but her face screamed: 'Mr. Broughton, your ability to lie through your teeth is truly eye-opening.'
Locke smiled. "I came here to find someone."
Cordelia nodded.
And then... there was no then.
She didn't have much interest in knowing why this Locke, who said he was from Texas, was here. They were just passing acquaintances who didn't know each other; why be so enthusiastic?
Locke didn't continue the conversation with Cordelia either; he was also considering a problem.
Obviously.
Carrie was looking at him, seemingly asking the same question.
Since out-of-towners aren't allowed into Lake Lyre, how can they get in to find Anila Katz's body and then have the police naturally start an investigation?
In the Federation, there's a saying.
No body, no case!
This wasn't a joke. If you want to charge someone with murder, you must have a body. Otherwise, even if he killed someone right in front of you, without a body—let alone the presumption of innocence—it's impossible to even get to the court stage.
Just then.
Over by Lake Lyre, the ritualistic activity began.
Several Crosses were lined up. Actors playing witches were invited onto the Crosses. Then, following the declaration of the so-called Witch Hunter Group and a burst of passionate roaring, there was more singing and dancing. While laughing, they planned to light the fires to burn those witches.
Locke raised an eyebrow, feeling the magic power running wild nearby.
Cordelia.
This magic?
Wait.
Locke raised his eyebrows. Unclaimed?
Goodfellas.
Is her foundation that powerful?
Locke thought to himself.
Let's put it this way.
If the maximum value for potential is ten, then when Carrie awakened, her potential was at most five. Even after signing a contract with Locke and having a continuous supply of magic, Carrie's level was stalled and fixed at level five; there was no possibility of rising to level six.
Unless Locke helped Carrie change her destiny, even if Locke became the Lord of the Universe in the future, Carrie's level would still only be level five.
In simple terms.
Carrie's level, from her... no.
From the moment Carrie was born, it was already locked.
For her whole life, she can only reach level five at most.
This sounds harsh.
But it's the truth.
Unlike Locke.
Locke's level can be improved without constraints.
And the reason for this is the Universe itself.
Let's put it this way.
This Universe has already decayed and solidified!
Three hundred and three, the Stubborn Doran Church
The awakening of any supernatural power cannot be without cause.
At least in a Western context, that's how it is; it's impossible for a pure-blooded mortal to skip levels and slay a god.
A mortal is just a mortal.
One who can slay gods is, at the very least, a demigod.
Or... someone with an incredible cheat.
In any Western context, there's no Room for the 'my fate is mine to control' mentality; the hierarchy is solidified. A mortal is a mortal, and if you can transcend that, it's not due to your efforts, but because you were destined to be supernatural.
For example, Doctor Strange.
He might seem like a mortal, but in reality, he's the successor to the Sorcerer Supreme handpicked by the Vishanti. To put it bluntly, Doctor Strange didn't become Doctor Strange because he worked hard enough, but because he was destined to be.
To put it simply.
Here, that 0.1% of talent is more important than 99.9% effort.
And this Cordelia before him?
If Carrie's Witch talent potential is a five, then this Cordelia's talent potential is an eight, only two levels away from the maximum of ten.
As for Locke?
He belongs to those who have an incredible cheat.
Infinite energy.
Plus... unranked!
Cordelia over there seemed to sense her loss of composure as well. She regained her senses and pursed her lips. 'Peace, we can do it.'
Locke raised an eyebrow.
Goodfellas.
Is this a female version of Professor X?
Peace?
Not far away, the Witch Hunters turned the burning of witches into a reality show. You're a Witch; you're angry, yet you say, 'We want peace'?
Are you fucking kidding me?
Didn't you see that Carrie was about to reveal her form as the Dark Sovereign?
Locke thought to himself as he looked at Carrie. 'Let's go.'
Carrie snapped back to her senses. The surging energy, which had been boiling at the thought of her friend being burned alive by the Witch Hunters below, instantly returned to a state as calm as water.
But, this was an illusion.
They left Lake Lyre.
They got back in the car.
He started the engine.
'What now?'
'Report it to the police.'
'...'
Carrie was slightly stunned as she looked at Locke. 'But we haven't found any evidence to report yet.'
Locke smiled. 'Carrie, I let you adapt to being ordinary, but I didn't tell you to get used to it. Remember, we are supernatural!'
Carrie: '...'
Evidence?
He already knew the body was in Lake Lyre; what did it matter if there was no evidence?
Just manufacture some evidence.
Is it that hard?
New Orleans Police Department.
Locke took Carrie directly to find the friend George had mentioned, who served as a Detective in the major crimes unit of the New Orleans Police Department.
'Kaup Thornton!'
'Locke Broughton!'
Locke shook hands with the man before him, who sported a handlebar mustache and wore a well-worn suit. He introduced the girl next to him. 'This is Carrie, Carrie Chester.'
Kaup Thornton nodded to Carrie and invited them to sit. He then warmly served them coffee and said with a smile, 'George called me yesterday and mentioned you, saying you'd be arriving in New Orleanstoday.'
Locke took the coffee and smiled. 'We arrived around noon as well.'
Kaup Thornton adjusted his somewhat old tie and sat down, looking at Locke.'So, I heard you're here to find someone. Did you find them?'
Locke and Carrie exchanged a look.
Seeing this, Kaup Thornton asked, 'Is there a problem?'
Locke looked at Kaup. 'I suspect she's already dead.'
Kaup quickly moved the coffee he was about to drink away from his mouth.
Goodfellas.
'Suspect she's dead?'
'Yes.'
Locke nodded to Carrie.
Carrie took a signal tracker out of her pocket.
Kaup's eyes lit up as he took the signal tracker and examined it. 'Military grade, more advanced than what we use at the Police Department.'
Locke smiled.
He then proceeded to slowly tell Kaup a story.
Carrie's friend, Anila Katz, was supposed to visit New Orleans with her mother. It just so happened that Carrie was with Anila at the time, and Anila coincidentally brought the tracker with her to New Orleans.
But... Katz's Mother has returned to New York, while Anila Katz still hasn't come back.
Carrie became worried. Katz's Mother said Anila was staying at a relative's house in New Orleans, but Carrie wasn't satisfied with that explanation because she couldn't get in touch with Anila.
And because of the range of the signal tracker, Carrie asked Locke to come with her.
Then... Locke looked at Kaup. 'As soon as Carrie and I got off the plane, we went to the location shown by the signal.'
Kaup listened intently, then looked at Locke and spread his hands as if asking what happened next.
Locke shook his head. 'The signal is located inside Lake Lyre, but Carrie and I couldn't get in. So, after discussing it, we decided to come to you.'
Kaup was slightly taken aback.
'Where?'
'Lake Lyre.'
'...'
Kaup frowned. 'Are you talking about the Lake Lyre on the east side of the city?'
Locke hummed in affirmation. 'The people there said that Lake Lyre is private property.'
Private property in the U.S. is no joke.
If someone has bought that land and posted 'Private Property, No Trespassing' signs, you'd be dying for nothing if they shot you for entering.
Even the Federal Bureau of Investigation can't enter a place like that without a search warrant, even if it's just an open field.
'Right.'
Kaup wiped his face. 'It's the land of the Doran Church.'
Doran?
Locke raised an eyebrow and looked at Kaup. 'The Doran Church?'
Kaup nodded. 'The Doran Church is...'
Locke smiled. 'I know, their headquarters is in New York, right?'
He was familiar with them.
He had even planned to pay them a visit at some point. After all, that Doran Church had described Carrie as the most terrifying darkness.
Locke had even planned a 'Night Visit to the Vampires' scenario to show them what true, pure darkness looked like.
However, Locke hadn't expected to hear the name of the Doran Church even here in New Orleans.
But on second thought, it made sense.
New Orleans is known as a hub for witches, Vampires, and Voodoo. It wasn't surprising that the Doran Church was here. In that case, the group of Witch Hunters at Lake Lyre were likely a squad of Witch Hunters under the Doran Church's banner.
Kaup looked at the signal tracker in his hand and spread his hands. 'Every year at the end of December, the Doran Church prohibits any outsiders from going to Lake Lyre. Are you sure you haven't made a mistake?'
Locke shook his head. 'No.'
If the tracker said Anila Katz was at Lake Lyre, then she was definitely in the lake.
Kaup frowned. 'This is troublesome, but I'll see what I can do.'
With that said,
Kaup temporarily returned the tracker to Locke, noted down Anila Katz's name, and then got up and walked outside.
Compared to dealing with conglomerates, various churches were the biggest headaches for the Police Department. Conglomerates just had money, but churches were filled with a bunch of fanatical lunatics.
Various churches bloomed across the land of the U.S. like clusters of vibrant flowers.
Carrie watched Kaup leave and then looked at Locke. 'The Doran Church... what is that?'
The Doran Church hadn't been mentioned in the Witch knowledge Agatha had taught her either.
Locke shrugged. 'A stubborn cult that advocates killing and burning all witches, believing that the World will be at peace without them.'
'What?'
'Yeah, a stubborn church that thinks it's invincible just because it killed one black Witch.'
Carrie was slightly stunned. 'They're in New York?'
And they want to burn me?
Carrie had something to say, but she held it back due to her personality.
Locke let out a chuckle. 'I was already thinking about when to pay them a visit. I didn't expect to run into them here. I'll find an opportunity to visit them after we get back.'
Just based on that old man's claim that Carrie was the greatest darkness, a visit was destined.
To have little strength yet not fear the powerful...
...is to court destruction!
What's more, this time it also involves his mission.
Just then,
*Ring ring!*
'It's Gwen.'
Locke took out his phone and looked at the caller ID. He gave Carrie a smile, stood up, walked to the window of the conference Room, and answered the call. 'Good afternoon, Gwen.'
'Good afternoon.'
Gwen walked out of George's study and glanced behind her at George, who was on the phone. 'Did you and Carrie go to the New Orleans Police Department?'
'Yes.'
'Did something happen?'
'Carrie's friend is missing.'
Locke told the truth.
Unsurprisingly, Kaup must have called George after stepping out. After all, Locke only met Kaupbecause of George's favor. Now that they had met, Kaup certainly needed to inform George that the person had arrived and that he was in the process of returning the favor.
It was very normal.
If he hadn't said anything, what would happen if Kaup needed George's help later and George claimed to know nothing about this?
Of course, the chances of that were slim.
However... this was considered an unspoken rule when it came to using favors.
Gwen walked to her Room and sat in her computer chair. She turned on the computer and looked at the Delta Air Lines official website. Listening to Locke's report of his whereabouts, she smiled. 'Then you and Carrie take care. Remember to call me after you get back to the hotel tonight.'
Locke hummed in response. 'I will.'
He hung up the phone.
Just then, Kaup walked back in as well.
Locke put away his phone and looked at Kaup.
Kaup made a 'thumbs up' gesture. 'The Doran Church said they didn't find anything unusual, and they've agreed to send over the surveillance footage of Lake Lyre from the past two weeks.'
Locke smiled...
304. Ways to Empty a Man's Wallet
Interesting.
Locke listened to the news brought by Detective Kaup Thornton, and he was slightly stunned as well.
After all... these days, there was actually surveillance that worked perfectly fine at the time of an incident.
This was simply a miracle.
That time Locke didn't have Peerless Assassin disable the surveillance was intentional; he had purposely let Peerless Assassin appear on screen with him.
This time?
Had the other party mastered some high-tech technology that could seamlessly modify surveillance video without fear of being detected?
Locke raised an eyebrow.
Playing such tricks in front of an expert like him, who had maxed out his hacking skills, wasn't that just showing off in front of a master?
The next second.
Kaup said, "But they definitely won't be coming over today. Have you two booked a place?"
It's almost five in the afternoon now.
It's time to get off work.
Locke said, "It's booked, at the nearby Hilton Hotel."
Kaup was slightly stunned and looked at Locke. "It seems George was right; you really are a wealthy man."
Locke smiled. "Just won a few lawsuits, that's all."
These days, could money earned from working come as fast as money from winning lawsuits?
And winning lawsuits was perfectly legitimate.
It was just a bit frustrating.
But there was no way around it; to make money, if you don't get poked at by others, how can you take them to court?
Staged accidents?
That was too low-class.
Locke wanted to make money, and he wanted to make it fairly and squarely.
Kaup looked at his watch and invited Locke, "Shall we have a meal together?"
Locke smiled. "Of course."
Of course.
Locke was paying for this meal.
Although Locke and George had always been at odds, being out and about under the title of George's future son-in-law, no matter how much he clashed with George, he had to consider George's reputation.
Simply put, his dealings with George's friends were, in essence, representing George.
However... at the hotel entrance.
After Carrie and Locke got out of the car, they watched as Kaup drove away in a dilapidated car. Carrielooked at Locke with some curiosity. "Is the salary of a Detective in the New Orleans Police Departmentreally that low?"
Locke chuckled, turned, and walked toward the hotel behind them with Carrie. "The annual salary for a Detective chief here is about seventy thousand dollars."
Carrie was a bit surprised. "That's not exactly low."
Locke smiled.
Don't mind Locke talking about tens of millions in savings all the time; that was earned at the risk of his life.
If it were someone else being targeted by Black Egghead, they'd probably be gone long ago.
Or if they were targeted by Killer 46, they probably wouldn't even know how they died.
And... George is already a chief inspector of the NYPD now, and his annual salary is only about one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and that's in New York.
This is New Orleans, a city where a fully renovated 500-square-meter Villa only costs a bit over two hundred thousand dollars.
"Good evening, sir."
"Broughton, Locke Broughton!"
Locke took out his credit card.
Soon, the young and beautiful hotel receptionist handed Locke the keys to a luxury suite costing two thousand dollars a night. "Mr. Broughton, I wish you a pleasant stay."
"I will."
Locke said a word, smiled at the beautiful receptionist, and then walked toward the elevator with Carrie. Behind them, two attendants in white clothes carried his and Carrie's luggage.
After Carrie stepped into the elevator, she found it somewhat unbelievable. "His suit jacket is an old style from five years ago, his wallet is as old as it gets, and then there's his car..."
No matter how you look at it, this doesn't seem like the setup for a successful Detective.
Frankly speaking, if she had gone alone, she would seriously doubt whether this Kaup was being impersonated by a Homeless man.
Having lived in New York for nearly a year and being good friends with Betty, who was at the forefront of fashion, Carrie, who had been receiving Betty's fashion influence over the year and was no longer introverted, could see Locke's current worth at a glance.
The suit Locke was wearing was custom-made by hand in Italy, costing at least fifty thousand dollars.
But that wasn't even the most expensive thing on Locke.
The most expensive thing on Locke was the pair of square-shaped, magnificent cufflinks on his white shirt inside the suit; the square center looked like a small patch of brilliant starry sky, shining with specks of light.
Carrie recognized these cufflinks because she and Betty had seen them in a magazine last year, priced at six hundred and eighty thousand dollars.
Not to mention Locke's tie and leather shoes.
So... after a year's baptism, Carrie had completely grown from a country girl into a city girl with a New York perspective.
But it was also because of this that Carrie felt a bit incredulous.
Is it necessary for a Detective with a seventy-thousand-dollar annual salary to make himself look so miserable?
Is he saving money?
Carrie thought to herself.
After waiting for the two attendants to bring in the luggage, Locke took out two hundred dollars as a tip and handed it to them. After the attendants closed the door, he walked toward the hotel wine cabinet. "Do you know any ways to make a man's money disappear quickly?"
Carrie was slightly stunned.
Locke stood in front of the wine cabinet, selecting drinks, and said without looking back, "There are many ways to make a woman spend money: cosmetics, clothes, bags..."
He paused.
Locke's eyes lit up. He opened the wine cabinet, took out a bottle of bourbon, and walked toward the Room's bar. "But there are only three ways to make a man's wallet shrivel up quickly."
As he spoke.
Locke held up three fingers.
"First, women. Without a doubt, a man will spend every penny for the woman he loves, and he's even willing to overdraw his future money."
"...Doesn't seem like it."
"Oh?"
"Since we saw Kaup, he hasn't had any private calls, even during dinner. However, there was a female Detective in the Police Department whose gaze toward him was a bit different."
"Then the second kind: uncontrolled substance abuse!"
"That doesn't seem like it either. You hate those kinds of drugs the most; otherwise, you wouldn't have promoted the drug clearance work in school. Besides, George also hates that, so if Kaup were like that, he probably wouldn't be George's friend."
Locke smiled.
He had implemented the drug clearance at Midtown High School because he had no choice. Previously, when he wasn't in that position, it didn't matter, but since he became the president—in his territory, he'd rather have a casino than a drug den!
In fact, there were a few junkies who planned to distribute drugs at Midtown High School; the one missing the longest has been gone for almost four months.
Locke nodded, looked at Carrie as she walked over, took out two glasses, and looked at her.
Carrie waved her hand. "I'll have juice."
As she spoke.
Carrie reached out her right hand to the side, and the refrigerator not far away opened automatically. Then, a bottle of juice flew straight into Carrie's hand with a 'whoosh'.
Telekinesis.
Locke could do it too.
But Locke didn't use it.
Locke smiled, poured himself a glass of bourbon, took a sip, and looked at Carrie. "Then there's only one left: gambling!"
Carrie was slightly stunned.
"Gambling?"
"Yes, the harms of gambling and drugs are identical. From a certain perspective, neither gamblers nor junkies deserve forgiveness or sympathy."
"...Don't you gamble too? And your friend Dylan, doesn't he gamble as well?"
"Dylan and I go to make money, not to gamble."
Locke drained his glass and educated Carrie on the difference between making money and gambling.
"Besides, Dylan and I aren't addicted. Even if we don't touch a gambling table for a year, our hands won't itch."
Locke refilled his glass. Speaking of Dylan, his firefighting business had been booming this past year, and it probably wouldn't be long before Locke would be attending his and Maggie's wedding.
Carrie nodded. "Then it's gambling. How did you tell?"
Locke said, "Look at the corners of his eyes and his fingers. Gamblers who stay up all night at the tables are mostly the same."
Carrie nodded thoughtfully.
Locke had noticed from the moment he shook hands with Kaup that Kaup was a gambler addicted to gambling.
But... that had nothing to do with Locke.
And Kaup seemed to be able to control himself; after all, a gambler who is hopelessly addicted wouldn't care about his job, thinking only about the odds and the points.
Carrie frowned, having a bit of an unpleasant feeling. "I have a bad feeling."
She felt that things wouldn't go so smoothly tomorrow.
Locke smiled and sipped his wine. "Adapt to the ordinary, but don't get used to it. We are extraordinary; it's just that I've always preferred courtesy before force!"
I came all this way to play by the rules with you, and you don't follow them.
What else is there to say?
Since you aren't following the rules, don't blame me for calling out Assassin Peerless, or Rocco the Witch, or Cain of the Blood Clan, or at the very least, having Dimension Zero back me up while I flip the table on you.
Late at night!
Inside a somewhat noisy and foul-aired underground casino.
With a smack.
His suit unbuttoned and his image completely gone, Kaup, with a cigarette in his mouth, slammed his cards onto the table again and said to the dealer, "Continue."
The dealer remained unmoved.
Kaup's eyes were slightly bloodshot as he looked up at the dealer.
A black man in charge of watching the floor walked up to Kaup. "Detective Thornton, our boss would like to see you."
Kaup glanced at the unmoved dealer, then at the black man who said "invite" but didn't sound like it, chuckled, and stood up.
Inside an office that was equally smoke-filled and murky with foul air.
A white man with a mustache looked at the entering Kaup with a pleasant surprise on his face. He stood up, waved his hands to signal his subordinates to leave, and said, "Detective Thornton, long time no see. How's your luck today?"
Kaup's face immediately darkened.
How's my luck? You run the casino; don't you know who's borrowing money?
The mustachioed white man laughed and slapped his own mouth. "Detective Thornton, sorry, I misspoke. However, bad luck aside, that two-hundred-thousand-dollar debt..."
Kaup said in a low voice, "I'll find a wa—"
Before he could finish.
The mustachioed white man already said, "Actually, I can waive that two-hundred-thousand-dollar debt."
Kaup frowned. "..."
305. Harming Others Without Harming Yourself
The next day.
The weather was cloudy!
Locke stood on the hotel balcony, sipping his first bourbon of the morning, looking down at the city of witches and vampires, and smacked his lips.
Compared to the hidden New York, New Orleans was completely unmasked.
Last night, Locke felt a vampire pass by the hotel entrance. However, since he was just passing through and Locke wasn't interested in tasting bat meat, he didn't do anything.
After a while.
The door to another room in the suite opened, and Carrie walked out, greeting Locke on the balcony.
Locke grunted and looked at Carrie: "Kopp just called and said the surveillance footage has been delivered."
Carrie's eyes lit up, and she rushed towards the bathroom: "I'll be ready in a minute."
An hour later.
New Orleans Police Department.
"Play it."
Kopp, in the technical reconnaissance office, turned his head to look at Locke and Carrie, who were being led in by an officer after the door opened. He nodded to the officer and then invited Locke and Carrie in.
The TV screen was rapidly playing the surveillance footage of Lake Lery.
Eight times speed.
Because Lake Lery is closed in December, eight times speed wouldn't miss anything.
The twentieth, nothing.
The twenty-first, nothing.
The twenty-second... "There!"
Carrie's eyes lit up, and she quickly called for a stop, looking at a familiar figure appearing in the surveillance: "That's Anila Katz."
However, Anila Katz didn't appear alone.
Also... she didn't appear at night, but in broad daylight, and with five or six other people. Besides Anila Katz, there was Katz's mother, Jim Rhodes, who was the leader of the witch hunting group mentioned by the cafe lady, and another person named Fox, who was said to be the caretaker of Lake Lery, and two others who were likely just bystanders.
The surveillance continued to play.
Soon.
After staying at Lake Lery for about an hour, Anila Katz left with the others. After that, Anila Katz never appeared again.
Kopp looked at Locke: "Katz's mother is a follower of the Dolan Church. That day, Katz's mother took her daughter to visit Lake Lery."
Locke glanced at Kopp, not speaking.
"And, I just spoke to Katz's mother on the phone. Katz's mother said that Anila Katz's uncle here took Anila camping, and there's no such thing as her being missing."
"It's just that because they're camping, there's no cell phone signal."
"Katz's mother said they'll be back in fifteen days."
As he spoke.
Kopp's expression was a bit helpless. After all, there was no body, no case, and most importantly, the missing person's mother said she wasn't missing. Relying solely on a so-called tracking device was, at most, circumstantial evidence, and it would be very difficult to get permission from the court to enter someone's private property based on that circumstantial evidence.
So... Kopp sighed: "I'm sorr—"
Locke looked at the surveillance, frowning: "Detective Thornton, this surveillance footage seems to have been tampered with."
Kopp was slightly stunned.
Locke pointed to the computer over there, looking at Kopp, seemingly asking, Can I take over?
The technician over there took off his headphones: "Of course, but I didn't see that this surveillance was tampered with."
"That's because the other party's level is too high."
"..."
Locke said so, sat in the technician's chair, opened the professional video software, and instantly, pop-up windows shot out one after another on the computer screen.
All kinds of pop-ups, dazzling.
"Here, the timestamp!"
"Here, look at the shadows!"
"Here, look at that wild duck, did it also appear on the lake on the nineteenth?"
"Same position!"
"The trash here, and the position on the eighteenth..."
"Here..."
The person who modified this surveillance was a master, but, obviously, the gap between advanced hackers and advanced hackers is like the gap between people.
This guy isn't good enough.
Ten minutes later.
The real surveillance was restored, missing the part from 4 PM on the twenty-second to 5 AM on the twenty-third, and the surveillance content that had just filled this period was cobbled together from various time points.
He was a master.
But... his brain was clearly not working. Didn't this guy know how to cut and paste from surveillance footage from a month ago? Why play such a trick with content from the same month?
And, to play such a trick in front of Locke, who has a photographic memory and quantum reading abilities?
Locke looked at the surveillance with missing time, then at Kopp: "Detective Thornton, the last time Anila Katz spoke to Carrie was at 2 PM on the twenty-second, and at 10 AM on the twenty-third, only Katz's mother returned to New York. What a coincidence, the surveillance footage from that period is missing?"
For George's sake, he decided to give Kopp a chance.
After all, George introduced Kopp to him not for him to kill for fun. If that got out, George's reputation would probably plummet.
Kopp frowned and looked at the technician.
The technician was utterly amazed at this moment, looking at the small software created in a short time to quickly detect whether video frames overlapped: "Mr. Broughton, can I..."
Locke smiled: "You can keep it."
The technician repeatedly thanked him.
Kopp, seeing this, looked at Locke and Carrie.
The next second.
Kopp took out his phone and made a call.
Soon.
The call connected.
"I need Judge Aris's signature on a search warrant."
"..."
Locke showed a slight smile, while Kopp, while transferring the call to Judge Aris and explaining the reason for signing the search warrant, waved to Locke and Carrie with one hand and walked out of the office.
"Yo!"
Kopp walked out of the office, waved, and looked at the plainclothes policewoman with brown long hair, who had been transferred to his department from elsewhere six months ago: "Keno!"
Keno, who was chatting with another policewoman at the lounge door, came back to her senses and her eyes lit up.
Carrie whispered: "This is the female detective who seems to have a crush on Kopp."
Locke grunted.
Good.
She could continue to have a crush.
After all, just now, Kopp had been teetering on the edge of life and death.
"Kopp."
Detective Keno walked over, and nodded friendly to Locke and Carrie. The news that Locke was the son-in-law of NYPD Senior Superintendent George Stacy had spread yesterday when he set foot in the police station. Besides Kopp, the detective from the Organized Crime Investigation Division also came over to greet Locke.
Kopp took the newly printed search warrant from a clerk, folded it: "To Lake Lery."
Keno was slightly stunned, then nodded.
However, before going to Lake Lery, Kopp and Nora first went to the courthouse. A printed search warrant had no effect; only a search warrant signed by a judge could be effective.
In the Audi outside the courthouse.
Carrie thought about Kopp's initial attitude in the police station: "I just feel like..."
Locke's face was expressionless: "Gambling not only harms oneself but also others. Fortunately, it's only the first half, there's still hope."
If it harmed both oneself and others, then it would be completely beyond saving.
Actually... even if Kopp wasn't up to it, Locke could still go to the detective from the Organized Crime Investigation Division. That detective was also George's classmate, and he even planned to take his wife and daughter to New York in January to go fishing with George.
Another one with a broken brain.
Of course, this referred to fishing.
Carrie was slightly stunned: "Could it be..."
Locke glanced at the rearview mirror: "Behind us, the black Volkswagen has been following us all the way. It seems they started taking action after Kopp called yesterday."
Carrie looked at the black Volkswagen in the rearview mirror, and spread her right hand: "I'll handle it."
Locke shook his head: "Wait a moment, find an opportunity to make that car crash into a wall and explode."
He was never a bleeding heart.
Moreover, if you want to get something, you must pay for it. That's a law. Since they want to follow him, they should be mentally prepared.
Soon.
Kopp and Keno walked out of the courthouse, waved to Locke, who was sitting in the Audi, then took Keno, got into the police car, and sped towards Lake Lery.
Locke also started his car and followed.
Behind them.
The driver of the black Volkswagen also quickly moved forward, and the person in the passenger seat took out his phone.
"They've rushed over."
"F*ck."
"What do we do now?"
"Hold them up."
"How do we hold them up?"
"You're driving a car, figure it out yourselves."
"..."
The person in the passenger seat was stunned, and looked at the driver.
The driver nodded.
He pressed the accelerator.
Vroom!
Instantly, the engine roared, and the black Volkswagen, which was originally three car lengths behind Locke, seemed to accelerate to eighty miles per hour and began to overtake.
Carrie watched the now undisguised black Volkswagen in the rearview mirror, wiggling her magic-infused fingers, a little curious: "What do they want to do, commit suicide?"
Indeed.
Although her magic was endless, her level was what it was, and the further the distance, the more magic she needed to consume and the less effective her skills would be.
And now, these people were directly delivering themselves to her.
Locke glanced at them, snorting with a laugh: "This world is never short of fools rushing to their deaths. Alright, give them a ride."
Carrie nodded, watching the black Volkswagen in the rearview mirror that was just one car length away. Her right hand, infused with magic, even her fingernails stained black, suddenly opened.
Vroom!
The black magic instantly turned transparent outside the window, whistling out.
On the black Volkswagen.
A screech!
"What?"
The driver was suddenly stunned, staring in shock at the steering wheel he had turned all the way to the right: "What the f—"
Before he could finish his sentence.
Boom!
306. There are always people who think they can
Boom!
With a terrified scream from the driver, the black Volkswagen sped across the road at eighty miles per hour and crashed into the stone wall.
The massive impact directly shortened the car's length by a quarter.
Immediately after, there was a loud bang, and the car instantly turned into a fireball on the spot.
Everyone on the road was stunned.
The next second.
Screams and cries of "Oh my God" followed one after another.
However, at the moment the black Volkswagen crashed, Locke's Audi and Copp's car, which was ahead, had already turned the corner.
Although they heard some explosions, it didn't delay their journey.
"Alright."
Carrie looked at her right hand, which had turned white again, retracted it, and tucked it into her pocket: "Aren't they witch hunters? Don't they have any defensive skills?"
Locke's expression was indifferent: "No."
This is unscientific.
Carrie thought to herself, after all, they are witch hunters. If they can't even counter a witch's magic, then how do these witch hunters hunt witches?
"Witches also have strengths and weaknesses."
Locke glanced at Carrie and said, "Moreover, these people mostly hunt small witches, those who have awakened their potential but are still in a daze. Those are the ones they love to judge the most."
To put it bluntly.
They bully the weak and fear the strong.
Of course.
They have also killed real black witches, but that was basically by sacrificing lives. However, having killed them doesn't mean that all so-called witch hunters here have killed black witches.
To be direct, witch hunters have killed black witches, but that doesn't mean all witch hunters have killed black witches.
Carrie said in a deep voice, "Like Anila Katz."
Locke nodded: "Yes."
This was also the reason Locke didn't stop Carrie from delivering a fatal blow.
He didn't need proof; he already knew the outcome. The outcome was that Anila Katz's body was in Lake Riley, and that lake belonged to the Dolan Church's witch hunting group. The two guys who were following them were also from this group. From any perspective, those two people were not innocent bystanders.
Under an avalanche, every snowflake is bravely venturing out.
So... those who kill will be killed.
Accomplices can also be convicted of second-degree murder in court. To Locke, accessories are equivalent to the main culprit.
Half an hour later.
Lake Riley.
At this moment, Jim Rhodes, the local leader of the so-called witch hunting group, had already brought a group of people to greet them at the entrance to the mountain.
Although he didn't quite understand why his two subordinates couldn't stop them, it didn't matter.
Jim Rhodes smiled and stepped forward, shaking hands with Detective Copp Thornton, who had just gotten out of the car: "Detective Thornton."
Copp nodded: "Rhodes."
As the head of the New Orleans Homicide and Major Crimes Unit, it was common for Copp to know Jim Rhodes, just as George knew Kingpin, the boss of Hell's Kitchen.
But knowing someone and being familiar with them are two different things.
Copp took out the search warrant for Lake Riley, which had just been signed by the judge, from his pocket and handed it to Jim Rhodes: "Mr. Rhodes, would you like to call your friend to verify the authenticity of the search warrant?"
Jim Rhodes looked at the contents of the search warrant, smiled, and looked up at Copp: "That's not necessary. Cooperating with the police investigation is our duty. However, didn't this girl go camping out of town with her relatives?"
"Mr. Rhodes knows?"
"Of course!"
Jim Rhodes spread his hands: "Katz's mother is a believer in our church. Yesterday, after you questioned me, I called Katz's mother out of concern. On the phone, Katz's mother was very angry, saying that it was simply ridiculous. How could she not know if her daughter was missing? I heard that after she went back, she was even pestered by a girl."
As he spoke.
Jim Rhodes's gaze fell on Locke and Carrie.
The next second.
Jim Rhodes looked at Locke: "I know you. You are the couple who came to the town's coffee shop yesterday and also went to Lake Riley, right?"
"Brother and sister."
Locke corrected Jim Rhodes's grammatical error with a faint smile: "Since Mr. Rhodes said Katz isn't missing, can you explain why Mr. Rhodes used fake surveillance footage to mislead the New Orleans Police Department?"
"Fake?"
"Yes, the technique is good, but unfortunately, it's not enough in front of me. Next time you're faking it, remember to slightly advance the cut and paste time, don't just go for convenience..."
Locke's lips curved slightly upwards, then his gaze fixed on a bespectacled otaku in the group behind Jim Rhodes, who nervously pushed up his thick glasses when Locke spoke: "Better luck next time."
The bespectacled otaku couldn't help but look up at Locke, a hint of panic flashing in his eyes.
Just then.
Jim Rhodes cleared his throat, gave Locke a deep look, and then said to Copp: "Detective Thornton, I don't know what's going on with the surveillance, but I will ask about it. Aren't you going to Lake Riley? I'll take you there."
Copp's expression was calm as he shook hands with Jim Rhodes: "Thank you."
Locke and Carrie followed suit.
As for the bespectacled otaku Locke had noticed, he didn't follow. When Locke withdrew his gaze from the bespectacled otaku, the poor otaku was surrounded by two menacing big men.
Tsk tsk.
It's likely that a good beating is unavoidable.
On the way to Lake Riley, Jim Rhodes, who was walking ahead and talking with Copp and Keno, deliberately slowed his pace. When Locke caught up, he extended his right hand like a harmless good old man: "Rhodes, Jim Rhodes, head of the Dolan Church in New Orleans."
Locke glanced at Jim Rhodes, smiled, and shook his hand: "Broughton, Locke Broughton!"
As he spoke.
Locke released his right hand, looked at the water stains on it, took a tissue from his pocket, and directly wiped his right hand, looking at Jim Rhodes: "Mr. Rhodes, you're sweating a lot, aren't you? What, are you feeling guilty?"
Jim Rhodes laughed heartily, then casually wiped his right hand on his pants pocket, changing the subject: "Mr. Broughton, I know you. Yes, Mr. Locke Broughton from New York, the one who sued the Department of Homeland Security, and even sued MI5 and MI6 from London in New York."
He's not a witch?
What was on Jim Rhodes's hand just now wasn't sweat, but a potion.
A potion that could distinguish whether someone was an ordinary person or a witch. If it was a witch, the potion would turn black the moment he shook their hand.
But... not so fast.
You're the witch, your whole family is.
Although Locke didn't know what Jim Rhodes was trying to do at the time, he was walking behind and saw Jim Rhodes's action of putting his right hand in his pocket clearly. Combined with Jim Rhodes's identity, it wasn't hard to guess what he was trying to do.
Too bad.
I'm not a witch.
Uh... not in my current state.
And frankly, he'd rather transform into Cain than into the witch, Loki.
As for Jim Rhodes's words?
Locke smiled and looked at Jim Rhodes: "New York media all say I like to sue people to make money, but I really don't. I don't like to sue either. I hope this time I don't have to sue you, Mr. Rhodes."
Jim Rhodes laughed heartily: "Me too, Mr. Broughton. Mr. Broughton's 'Lawyer Dream Team' is renowned throughout the world."
They helped their client first defeat the FBI, securing an out-of-court settlement from the FBI. Then, they defeated the Department of Homeland Security, winning nearly ten million in compensation. After that, they even forced London's MI5 and MI6 to pay for their troubles on home soil.
Although no one knew how much London actually settled for.
But... Locke had inadvertently shown his bank balance on social media, so conservatively estimated, London had paid at least a hundred million.
After the media speculated this news, the federal media boiled over, while the London media completely exploded, condemning MI5 and MI6 with various criticisms.
But MI5 and MI6 had a hard time explaining themselves. In fact, after paying the money, they even had to hold a press conference to apologize to Locke and thank him for his generosity.
This further enraged the public in London, who petitioned to simply abolish MI5 and MI6, two useless agencies.
Therefore, Lawen Law's TNT Law Firm was probably already the number one law firm in the world in terms of popularity.
Locke shrugged: "I like it that way too, but some people always think they're strong enough to play against me."
Jim Rhodes smiled and stopped talking.
Because... Lake Riley had arrived.
Jim Rhodes looked around and said to Copp: "Detective Thornton, I don't see anywhere in this empty Lake Riley where someone could be hidden."
Copp looked at Locke.
Locke spoke: "Mr. Rhodes."
"Mr. Broughton."
"Mr. Rhodes, would you like to know why we are so certain Anila Katz is here?"
"I'm also curious."
"Because..."
Locke reached out and took the mini signal locator from Carrie's hand.
Jim Rhodes's expression changed slightly as he looked at the item in Locke's hand.
But... Jim Rhodes was not flustered at all: "A signal locator?"
Locke nodded: "Yes."
As he spoke.
Locke looked at the miniature location on the signal locator and pointed to Lake Riley.
Jim Rhodes's lips subtly curled upwards.
The next second.
Locke suddenly froze, raising an eyebrow: "Oh."
Copp walked over: "What's wrong?"
Locke looked up at Jim Rhodes, who was in front of him.
Jim Rhodes also flinched slightly at this.
Locke said, "Someone moved Anila Katz. She's not in the river anymore."
"What?"
Chapter 307: This is My Turf
Jim Rhode's heart skipped a beat when he heard Locke's words!
How is that possible...
Yesterday, when he learned that someone had found the location of Anila Katz's body through tracking, he had specifically sent men to strip Anila Katz's clothes completely, transport the body away, and then leave the clothes in the lake.
Even if the tracker was left in the clothes, it should still be in Lake Lyre.
How could it have left Lake Lyre?
Could it be that the tracker wasn't in the clothes, but inside Anila Katz's body?
How is that possible!
Jim Rhode was in the middle of a brainstorm.
Kaup had already leaned in over there, looking at the small green dot on the radar-like tracking screen: "Where is this?"
Locke pointed to a location slightly south of Lake Lyre: "Over there."
Just then.
A team of officers from the New Orleans Police Department also arrived at the scene. Originally, these people had come prepared for diving, but now, it seemed they wouldn't need to go underwater in the dead of winter while it was snowing.
Kaup glanced at Jim Rhode, then looked in the direction Locke was pointing: "Let's go, over there!"
"Alright."
Keno, beside him, nodded and waved to the team of officers who had just arrived behind them.
Locke glanced at Jim Rhode, who was starting to force a smile, and then followed with Carrie.
"Boss..."
"Shut up!"
Jim Rhode snapped back to his senses and hissed a low-voiced scolding at a subordinate who had approached, ready to say something. The people in front hadn't gone far yet; if he let something slip, it would be a disaster.
Although they called themselves Witch Hunters, they were nothing more than swindlers and crooks. After all, they were ordinary people; if they went head-to-head with a Witch, even a hundred lives wouldn't be enough.
Naturally, dealing with a single Witch usually required their whole team. If they ran into a well-armed Police Department, they'd likely be sent straight to heaven right then and there.
Five seconds later.
Jim Rhode finally looked at the panting subordinate and frowned: "What is it?"
"Jack and Martin are dead."
"What?"
Jack and Martin were the two men who had been following Locke and Carrie in the black Volkswagen.
The subordinate, out of breath, recounted everything in detail—how he had rushed to the city and seen the horrific scene after the fire department had finished putting out the flames.
And...
The subordinate took out a blackened badge and looked at Jim Rhode: "There are traces of magic at the scene. It was done by a goddamn Witch."
Jim Rhode took the badge, gripped it tightly, looked up, and narrowed his eyes at Locke, who was closing in on the actual location of Anila Katz's body: "Look into this Locke Broughton. New York side. Fast."
The subordinate nodded, turned, and ran.
Jim Rhode was an ordinary person after all. If he were a supernatural being, he would have known that at such a short distance, even though his voice was low, it was no different from plotting out loud.
Carrie glanced at Locke's expression: "Locke, he wants to..."
"Let him!"
"..."
Locke's personal history, social connections, and even his sources of income were all perfectly clear and transparent, able to withstand scrutiny from any angle.
If there were really any issues, the Federal Bureau of Investigation or the Department of Homeland Security, whom he had outmaneuvered before, would have swarmed him long ago.
Soon.
Kaup and the others didn't even need Locke's reminder to see that something was wrong.
It had snowed yesterday.
The snow elsewhere was pristine, with no signs of activity, but here, there were footprints, and they seemed quite messy.
The tracks stretched three hundred meters into the woods and then stopped at a large tree.
The soil beneath the tree was soft, looking as if it had just been freshly turned.
Kaup turned to look at Jim Rhode, who had followed them.
The latter had a look of surprise, his face full of confusion.
"Dig!"
"Yes, sir."
Several officers looked at each other, then stepped forward and began the excavation work.
Perhaps the transfer had been too hurried; it didn't take long before they found something.
A corner of a pale, water-bloated corpse was uncovered.
Carrie's expression changed instantly: "Anila!"
Kaup looked at the body and sighed inwardly. Then, he took out his phone, contacted the New Orleans Police Department, and requested the Medical Examiner's Office and evidence collection experts to the scene.
An hour and a half later.
A police cordon had been set up in the woods.
After a while.
The corpse—bloated from being underwater, charred by fire, and then subjected to transport—was in terrible condition, barely intact. It was carried onto the laid-out white sheet.
The scene was gruesome.
Although he hadn't been kicked out, Locke, standing at the edge of the cordon, couldn't help but frown at the sight.
Carrie was already covering her mouth, hurriedly running to the side to retch.
Meanwhile...
Anger was building in Carrie's heart.
Locke turned to look at Jim Rhode, who was outside the cordon.
The latter saw the look Locke gave him and didn't show a hint of panic, even offering a friendly smile and a nod.
Locke also smiled.
Interesting.
He was smiling because he could control the pace of the situation, but what was Jim Rhode smiling about?
Before long.
With the sound of a zipper, the body was placed in a body bag. This corpse would be transported to the New Orleans Medical Examiner's Office for an autopsy.
Locke suddenly realized what kind of shady game Jim Rhode was trying to play.
The reason was simple.
This body had been burned, soaked in water, and then buried; it was already unrecognizable, with its features completely destroyed, and it was naked.
Whether she was Anila Katz wasn't for Locke or Carrie to decide; it was for science to determine.
But what if...
This body were to disappear?
No body.
No case!
But...
That's my line.
"I've spoken with George's side."
Kaup walked over and said to Locke: "They will bring over Anila Katz's personal belongings as soon as possible, so we can..."
Hearing this, a faint smile played on Jim Rhode's lips.
Anila Katz's personal belongings had already been disposed of.
After all...
She was a Witch, a demon!
But...
Carrie lowered her head, took out a hairpin wrapped in an evidence bag from her pocket, and handed it to Kaup: "This is a hairpin Anila gave me when she and her mother came to New Orleans. It only has my and Anila's fingerprints on it."
Jim Rhode's mouth twitched.
Don't panic.
Having fingerprints is one thing, but even with fingerprints, you still need a body to match them to.
The New Orleans Witch Hunting Group had been entrenched here for years; they weren't famous for nothing. If a small hurdle like this could stop them, they would have been caught by the Police Department countless times already.
Besides...
Even if the match is successful, so what?
With a body, a case can be opened.
But without evidence, you can't make an arrest.
Kaup took the hairpin from Carrie and handed it to Keno, then looked at Jim Rhode: "Mr. Rhode, do you still stand by your previous statement?"
Jim Rhode didn't panic at all: "Katz's mother said her daughter went camping. I believe Katz's mother."
That's the art of conversation.
Kaup nodded and shook hands with Jim Rhode: "Keep in touch, Mr. Rhode."
Jim Rhode: "I will. Just cooperating with the Police Department's work."
After letting go, Kaup waved his hand: "Back to the department."
Jim Rhode looked at Locke, who was also preparing to leave: "Mr. Broughton."
Locke stopped.
Jim Rhode smiled: "Take care, Mr. Broughton."
Locke was slightly taken aback, then gave a bright smile: "I will, Mr. Rhode. However, I think we'll be meeting again very soon."
Jim Rhode smiled slightly, looked at Carrie beside Locke, and extended his hand: "The same goes for you, Ms. Chester."
Carrie glanced at Jim Rhode's extended right hand, expressionless.
A handshake?
She wanted nothing more than to turn this guy into a human stump!
Locke pulled at Carrie, who was almost losing control, gave Jim Rhode a mysterious smile, and then led her to catch up with the main group.
Half an hour later.
Locke drove the Audi A8, following Kaup and Keno as they left the area.
The subordinate approached Jim Rhode again, watching the police convoy drive away: "Boss, I'll tell them to head out."
Jim Rhode's thoughts shifted, and he shook his head: "No."
"Huh?"
That's not what you said just now.
Jim Rhode pulled his gaze away from Locke's Audi A8: "Hijacking the car is too risky."
According to the New Orleans Police Department's protocol, the body should be driven out by the medical examiner alone. If that were the case, they could have snatched the body on the road—no body, no case.
But just now, the medical examiner's car left together with the police cars.
If they didn't know how to adapt and just charged in, it would undoubtedly be a blatant provocation of the Police Department.
Jim Rhode said with some curiosity: "Why wasn't it Medical Examiner Edward who came today?"
"He's on leave with a cold."
"Then his cold should be better now."
"Understood."
Since they couldn't act during transport, they would have to work on the terminal end.
There were three medical examiners in the Police Department's ME office, and Edward was the most senior of them, effectively the head of the office.
Jim Rhode was a born-and-bred New Orleanian who had cultivated his influence here for years. Here, even a powerful outsider has to bow down!
Also...
Jim Rhode looked down, took out the badge that had blackened upon contact with magic, squeezed it, and spoke: "Where is Hank Fox?"
A case is a case.
A Witch is a Witch.
You can't stop doing proper business just because something went wrong.
Wouldn't that be like giving up eating for fear of choking?
Chapter 308: Supreme Witch
What is the Witch Hunting Group for?
To hunt Witches.
So... the Police Department's investigation is one thing, but whether they hunt Witches or not has nothing to do with it.
Witches only bring us plagues, disasters, and diseases!
And what is happening now further proves this point: even dead Witches will bring them misfortune and shatter their peaceful lives.
It has even... already taken the lives of two of their men.
Jim Rhode lowered his head, fumbling with his badge: "This Witch's aura is brand new, a Witch who came from out of town?"
His subordinate nodded: "Could it be..."
Jim Rhode shook his head.
He knew what his subordinate wanted to say: those two men went to follow and stop Locke and the others, but they died under a Witch's magic.
That Carrie?
Jim Rhode looked up, narrowing his eyes, thinking of Carrie, who hadn't given him a chance when he tried to shake her hand and test her. After all, Katzs Mother had also said that this Carrie was very obsessed with her daughter's whereabouts.
If it weren't for Carrie, none of this would have happened.
A Witch's friend can only be a Witch.
But... whether Carrie is a Witch or not isn't important. What made Jim Rhode hesitant was Locke, who came with Carrie.
They are local tyrants in New Orleans. Initially, they could indeed rely on their powerful network to suppress any Crossing-the-River Dragon.
Provided that Crossing-the-River Dragon is just an ordinary one.
Is Locke one?
Locke is a Crossing-the-River Dragon worth hundreds of millions of U.S. dollars. Given enough time, even the most powerful local tyrant will be beaten down when facing a Crossing-the-River Dragonwielding a financial offensive.
"Forget it..."
Jim Roe returned to his senses, shook his head, and pursed his lips: "We can't do that."
"Boss?"
"How is Marren doing now?"
"...The Doctor said he has late-stage lung cancer."
"..."
Marren was also a member of their Witch Hunting Group. Half a month ago, while capturing a Witch, he was accidentally cursed by the Witch with a life curse. The next day, Marren discovered that his medical report, which had been normal the day before, suddenly indicated that he had late-stage lung cancer.
"I feel like there's something off about Locke Broughton."
"What?"
"We must send them away as soon as possible."
Jim Roe took a deep breath and looked at the members of the hunting group beside him: "Find Anila Katz's clothes and give them to Marren. They want a murderer; give them a murderer."
Everyone was stunned.
"What?"
"Boss, this..."
"All Witches deserve to die!"
"Shut up!"
Jim Roe scolded them in a low voice: "This matter is strange. Don't forget what year it is."
Everyone exchanged glances, then lowered their heads in silence.
Just as some people have premonitions when doing dangerous things, Jim Roe was currently feeling uneasy, as if disaster was imminent.
He trusted his intuition because it was thanks to it that he survived the terrifying and bloody Witchstruggles that ordinary people couldn't see, and sent away one Witch after another.
Furthermore.
This year is extremely special.
"The visitors mean trouble!"
Jim Roe turned around and walked toward the back: "Use Marren to send them away. They are not our enemies, the Witches are. Find the Witch who killed our brother and burn her!!!"
Instantly.
Their passion seemed ignited.
As for Marren?
He already had late-stage lung cancer anyway. Dragging it out, medical expenses and the like were very expensive. Since the New Orleans Police Department was willing to help them share the burden, that was all the better.
"Huh!"
"What's wrong?"
On the way, just as they were about to reach the Police Department, Locke suddenly blinked.
Carrie, sitting in the passenger seat, looked at Locke curiously.
The corner of Locke's mouth lifted slightly.
Back at Lake Lyre, his sixth sense told him that someone was targeting him and planning to do something bad to him.
Undoubtedly, this feeling originated from Jim Roe.
But just now... the sixth sense alarm was lifted.
This was the first wonder Locke had ever witnessed in his life.
Could it be... that a living survivor was finally about to appear?
Locke thought this to himself.
Soon.
As they passed the courthouse, Kaup's police car stopped ahead.
Getting out of the car.
Kaup looked at the sedan that had been burned to ashes, walked forward, showed his badge, and asked, "What happened?"
"A car accident."
The Detective, who was Kaup's colleague, chuckled: "Witnesses saw the car speeding on the road, then derailing and crashing head-on into the wall. Bad luck, the fuel tank immediately burst into flames, causing an explosion."
A very unfortunate accident.
No investigation was needed.
The colleague said, then looked at Kaup: "By the way, how is your case going?"
Kaup returned to his senses and smiled: "Not bad, just waiting for the forensic report."
Just then.
Kaup's phone rang.
"Sorry to interrupt."
"No problem, see you at The Bureau."
Kaup smiled slightly at his colleague, answered the phone, and then his face instantly darkened. After humming a couple of times, he greeted Keno and got back into the car.
Carrie watched the expression on Kaup's face: "Is someone threatening Kaup?"
Locke nodded: "That's why casinos are happy to see Police Officers run up tabs."
They aren't afraid of you gambling, they're afraid of you not owing them money.
Carrie pursed her lips: "He helped us."
Locke glanced at Carrie and restarted the car: "Indeed!"
Although Locke had backup plans, Kaup had genuinely helped him, choosing to side with solving the case even after being threatened by the casino people.
Soon.
At the entrance of the Police Department.
After Kaup got out of the car, he looked at Locke and Carrie following behind, checked the time on his wristwatch, and said, "Let's go grab some lunch first, if you still have an appetite."
Locke shrugged: "I'm fine."
Carrie chimed in: "Whatever."
Kaup then pointed to a fast-food restaurant right across from the Police Department and said to Keno, "Keno, you take the evidence bag to the Forensic Office, and then come find us?"
Keno smiled slightly: "Okay."
The fast-food restaurant was genuinely a fast-food restaurant.
Kaup sat down and joked to Locke: "I hope you, the billionaire, can handle this."
Locke smiled: "Thornton..."
"Just call me Kaup."
"Alright."
Locke said agreeably: "Kaup, maybe George didn't tell you that I'm an orphan, an orphan that no foster family wanted."
Orphans also have ranks.
For example, acquired orphans rank higher than congenital orphans.
And congenital orphans are also divided into ranks.
Orphans with foster families rank far higher than those without, and even among those without foster families, 'obedient orphans' rank higher than 'disobedient orphans'.
That's why Locke said that in this life, he relied on himself, forcefully transforming himself from the lowest-level 'Ox and Horse' worker into 'Rome'.
Kaup looked at Locke in surprise and apologized: "I thought George told me you had a family trust fund."
Locke laughed: "That was only discovered when I was fifteen. Believe me, Kaup, I'm not the so-called billionaire you imagine."
Kaup nodded: "Alright, so, Locke, what would you like to eat?"
"A burger!"
"A big burger!"
Locke pointed to the signature big burger written on the menu and told the approaching waiter: "I'll have one of those, and a Coke on the side."
Carrie said: "I want a fruit salad and orange juice."
Locke looked at Carrie.
Carrie blinked: "I'm dieting."
Locke chuckled.
Kaup handed the menu back: "Same, a burger, plus a glass of whiskey, with ice!"
Locke looked slightly envious.
Once this year passed, it would be '06. He would be one year older, eighteen, but he still needed three more years before he could openly ask a waiter to serve him alcohol in a restaurant.
Just then.
There was a commotion outside the restaurant.
Locke and Carrie looked, and saw a throng of young girls passing by the restaurant, holding various signs and shouting mixed slogans.
"Martha, the usual!"
Detective Keno entered at this moment, said something to the waiter there, and then sat down in the spot Kaup had vacated. Looking at the parade outside, she asked Kaup: "Is it time for the hundred-year Witch Convocation?"
Kaup nodded: "It looks like it."
Locke looked at Keno curiously: "Witch Convocation?"
Keno hummed, then seemed to remember something: "I forgot you guys came from New York. This convocation is considered local New Orleans culture. Are you familiar with the Salem Witches trials?"
Locke nodded.
Keno smiled and explained: "There were New Orleans Witch Trials here too, but they weren't as sensational as the Salem trials. However, the Witch Convocation at the end of 1695 was very sensational."
In 1692, when the Salem Witches trials took place, New Orleans also held Witch trials.
It's just that the New Orleans Witch Trials weren't as famous as the Salem Witches trials.
But... three years after the New Orleans Witch Trials, at the end of 1695, something happened that even Salem never experienced.
It is said that at the end of 1695, Witches around the city of New Orleans launched a massive Witch Convocation, attempting to speak out for the frightened and oppressed Witches of the time.
Carrie listened raptly: "And then? Did they win?"
Keno shrugged: "I don't know, but it's said that when so many Witches gathered back then, the very first thing they did was elect a Supreme Witch!"
Carrie was slightly stunned: "Supreme Witch?"
That word... sounds somewhat familiar.
She felt like she had heard someone mention it.
Right.
She seemed to have heard it from her Mentor, Agatha...