Ch: 317-324
317, I Only Kill One Person a Day
"That's impossible!"
"Heh."
Locke looked at the shaken Cordelia, whose face was filled with disbelief, and the corners of his mouth curled up again. "What if I told you that your husband, this Hank Fox, already has the blood of nineteen witches on his hands?"
Cordelia looked up.
Her husband, Hank Fox, was hanging in mid-air like a sausage, swaying. Under the faint moonlight, the Voodoo snake tattoo on the back of his hand was clearly visible.
This... Hank?
How could it be?
Cordelia's eyes flickered, and the expression of disbelief on her face deepened.
The next second.
Cordelia looked at Locke, but after opening her mouth, she couldn't say a word.
There was no other reason.
Locke had no need to deceive her.
She wasn't stupid.
Seeing this, Locke dropped another bombshell: "Then let me tell you, besides your scent, your husband also carries the scent of a Dark Witch."
Cordelia's gaze instantly became incredibly sharp!
Yes.
This Hank Fox seemed to be a scumbag.
The reason Locke hadn't killed Hank Fox yet was because he smelled Cordelia's scent, but at the same time, he smelled another Witch—a Dark Witch at that.
And then... Locke seemed to have a sense of déjà vu.
This is freaking American Horror Story: Coven!
Immediately after, Locke suddenly had a bold idea.
He needed to complete the mission.
And to complete this mission once and for all, it was nothing more than letting the Hell Dimension of Salem be revived—specifically, revived under his influence.
And in the Coven, Cordelia seemed to be the next Supreme Witch.
Just then.
Locke looked up toward the outside.
There.
The aura of a Dark Witch was rapidly approaching.
The next second.
Boom!
Kaylee, with long fiery-red hair, appeared directly in the warehouse. She landed and looked at Cordeliainside, as well as Locke not far away.
Locke looked at Kaylee with interest. Having dealt with Nightmare, the Prince of Hell, several times, he could tell at a glance that the Kaylee before him had signed a contract with a fire-attribute demon.
Most Dark Witches signed contracts with evil spirits and demons from the Hell Dimension.
Kaylee looked up at the upside-down Hank Fox, then at Cordelia and Locke. She snorted, thinking her affair with Hank had been exposed: "Cordelia!"
"It's you?"
Cordelia frowned. As the headmistress of the Witch Academy, although she was a White Witch, it didn't mean she didn't deal with other witches. Naturally, it was no surprise she knew Kaylee.
But... seeing this, Cordelia now fully believed the fact that Kaylee was the 'other woman': "Why?"
"Why what?"
Kaylee looked at Cordelia with a smile. "You don't understand Hank at all, but I do!"
Cordelia: "..."
Locke, standing not far away, felt like he was watching a soap opera. To be honest, he had thought he would see a scene of the wife tearing into the mistress.
Speaking of which, were witches' catfights always this civilized?
Locke checked the time on his watch and yawned. Forget it, if he couldn't see it, then he couldn't. It was getting late, and there was another fellow waiting for him to deal with back at the hotel.
"Alright..."
"Didn't you find one for yourself too?"
Before Locke could finish his sentence, Kaylee's gaze snapped onto him. Then she looked at Cordelia, seemingly understanding why Cordelia wasn't angry: "So, we're even. However, you seem to be enjoying yourself more than I am, finding such a pretty boy. What, does it feel good?"
Cordelia frowned deeply.
The next second.
Kaylee narrowed her eyes. Like an angry leopard, she opened her right hand toward Locke: "You have no right to speak here!"
Boom!
A ball of fire appeared directly in Kaylee's hand, and then, with a'shoo', it flew straight at Locke... Bang!
"Wha—ugh!"
Locke simply slapped away the fireball flying through the air and instantly appeared in front of Kaylee. His right hand opened—simple and crude, without any flashy moves. Locke, who always treated men and women equally, directly grabbed Kaylee by the throat, lifted her high, and narrowed his eyes: "You want to kill me?"
Kaylee's eyes bulged as her throat was squeezed.
Thud!
"..."
Locke slightly loosened his right hand. Instantly, Kaylee, whose body had gone limp and whose head tilted to one side, fell steadily onto the ground with a 'thud', kicking up clouds of dust.
Boom!
The moment she hit the ground, Kaylee's entire body suddenly spontaneously combusted. Following that, a layer of pitch-black flames erupted from her body.
"Roar!"
The Fire Demon, who had signed a contract with Kaylee and enjoyed her offerings, sensed her soul descending to Hell. Enraged, it used the passage opened by Kaylee's soul to rush up: "Who killed my..."
Locke, having switched to his Witch form, looked expressionlessly at the Fire Demon that had rushed up.
"Ze—"
Bang!
The Fire Demon looked at the figure in its vision cracking his knuckles. Filled with terror, it let out a 'bang' and dove back into Hell without looking back.
There are no secrets among demons.
So... after Nightmare had been pummeled by the same person twice in a row, Zero's portrait had already spread throughout the entire Hell Dimension.
Cordelia, seeing this, was also a bit stunned.
That was an Archduke-level demon.
And that was it?
Cordelia watched the mistress Kaylee, who had fallen to the ground and turned completely into a pile of ash with no possibility of resurrection, and looked up at Locke as he turned around.
Locke opened his right hand. With a 'thud', Hank Fox, who was hanging upside down in mid-air, was jolted awake. Before he could even regain his senses, his neck was once again obediently in Locke's hand.
"Witch!"
"Damned Witch!"
"You all deserve to die."
Hank Fox was being held by Locke, but his integrity didn't bend at all. Even if his voice had to be squeezed out, it didn't stop him from expressing his inner thoughts.
Behind him, Cordelia felt terrible hearing these thoughts from Hank Fox.
"Cordelia."
"Hmm?"
Hank Fox, held by Locke, felt his eyes shrink slightly when he heard Locke call out his wife's name.
How is that possible?
How could he know?
Locke's right wrist slowly turned, and then Hank, held like a ragdoll, and Cordelia, standing there, finally met eyes.
"Under normal circumstances, I only kill one person a day."
Locke spoke, smiling at Cordelia. Like sharing a gift, he lifted Hank forward: "This one, will you help me kill him?"
"What?"
Cordelia snapped back to reality and looked at Locke: "You want to kill him?"
Locke shrugged: "Setting aside the fact that he tried to attack me, he's a Witch Hunter. He has already killed nineteen witches. You might be soft-hearted and let him go, but if he knew you were a Witch, do you think he would let you go?"
Hank, struggling violently in Locke's hand, felt like his brain had been shocked as he heard those words. He looked at Cordelia in disbelief: "A Witch?"
The next second.
Hank's peripheral vision suddenly caught the remains of an accessory in the nearby ashes, and he felt devastated: "Kaylee, Kaylee..."
Cordelia also felt terrible.
Damn it.
I haven't even divorced you yet. What do you mean by this? Do you think I don't exist?
Locke, as the best friend, added the finishing blow: "She came to save you, and then, I killed her."
"fuck!"
"..."
Hank's legs were pedaling like a bicycle, his face flushed red as he stared at Cordelia: "You damned adulterous couple, witches are all promiscuous. Dammit, I should have killed you back then..."
Before he could finish his sentence.
Hank Fox, who had been struggling like a crab in a hot pot, suddenly went silent.
Cordelia watched as Hank Fox, who was in Locke's hand with his head tilted back, spitting out all sorts of foul language just a second ago, suddenly went silent. The light in his eyes gradually faded, and then, with a 'thud', his head slumped down. Her own eyes narrowed.
"Thud!"
"Puff!"
Just like Kaylee, Hank Fox was released from Locke's hand and fell onto the floor with a 'thud', also kicking up countless dust particles.
"Sorry."
Locke withdrew his right hand and put it back in his pocket. "He can insult you, but I will not allow his insults."
What does he mean by 'adulterous couple'?
Motherfucker.
I have a girlfriend.
She is the Super Top Student of New York City, the beautiful Top Student of Midtown High School, the student council president's assistant, the tenth-grade student assistant, the perfectly shaped, fair-skinned, beautiful, and elegant Gwen Stacy.
Although... Cordelia has a certain mature beauty.
Locke also appreciated it quite a bit.
But appreciation is appreciation, and liking is liking.
Locke was a man with a family, and he was currently in a passionate relationship. This kind of thing—cheating behind his girlfriend's back and easily getting the reputation of a scumbag—was something he would absolutely never do.
It was the same saying.
"Me, a scumbag? How is that possible!"
If being a scumbag was his destiny, then Locke, who never believed in fate and held the title of 'Heaven's Mandate is with Me', loved to break that destiny.
One person for one life, a couple for eternity.
That was the love Locke pursued. Just as he promised Gwen, he would not sign a prenuptial agreement.
Now?
The trivial matters were settled.
It was time to talk business.
Locke looked at Cordelia with a smile. "So, Fox—no, let's not call you Fox anymore. Change back to your own surname. This scumbag isn't worth it, don't you think?"
Cordelia looked at Hank, who was lying on the ground with his eyes wide open, filled with resentment. She remained silent for a moment before looking at Locke: "What do you want?"
The corners of Locke's mouth curled up!
318. Professor X is a traitor to the Mutants.
"I want you."
"...What?"
Just as Locke had once answered Carrie, when he gave Cordelia the same honest reply, her reaction mirrored Carrie's exactly.
Only... Cordelia didn't take the backward step Carrie had.
Locke smiled. "If I told you I came to save you, would you believe me?"
Cordelia's voice dropped, wary. "What do you think?"
Save us?
"We don't need anyone to save us."
"Hiding in the shadows, hunted at will by ordinary men who call themselves Witch Hunters—if that's how witches survive, then yes, you're right."
"We can live in peace with ordinary people."
"A female Professor X?"
"...What?"
Locke chuckled, glancing down at the body of Hank Fox. "After learning your husband was a Witch Hunter who, over the past few years, personally murdered nineteen witches and sent countless others to the stake, you still believe you can coexist peacefully with ordinary people?"
Cordelia pressed her lips tight, staring at Hank Fox—her husband—who lay dead with a venomous glare, as though even in death his hatred pursued her.
"Want to hear a story?"
"Hmm?"
"Once upon a time—or rather, in a certain parallel World—there were no witches, but there was a group that suffered the same fate: the Mutants."
Hands in his pockets, Locke gave a soft laugh, motioned for Cordelia to take a walk, then smiled as she hesitated and followed. "Among those Mutants was someone just like you, convinced they could live in peace with humans. His name: Professor X."
Cordelia: "..."
Same old story.
Locke preferred Magneto to Professor X.
He even felt that, without Professor X playing the traitor—born a Mutant but thinking like a human—Mutants might have found peace long ago.
Under the moonlight,
Locke slowly recounted the love-hate feud between Professor X and Magneto, and how the Professor's naiveté had brought unforgettable suffering to the Mutants.
In truth, nearly every catastrophe the Mutants endured could be traced to Professor X's soft heart.
Therefore,
when he finished, Locke smiled at Cordelia and said softly, "I don't want you to be Professor X, Cordelia."
Cordelia stopped walking, studying the moonlit figure of this aristocratic young man. "So you're Magneto, Mr. Broughton?"
Locke shook his head. "No. Magneto is my father-in-law."
"Hmm?"
"Destiny says so, not me."
He grinned. "I don't buy it, but if you insist on playing Professor X, I wouldn't mind being Magneto. Believe me—no one can stop me from doing what I want."
If this World had a Witch version of Professor X but no Magneto,
then... what was wrong with him stepping into Magneto's shoes?
No one could prevent him from completing his mission.
If Cordelia wouldn't do, he'd find someone else.
Divergent paths cannot share the same plan.
At first he'd assumed the quest "Release That Witch" meant opening his arms to form a faith-based Witch legion under his banner.
But... Locke had no such intention—at least not now. His current priority was grinding study points; he needed a stable environment more than anyone.
A chaotic World would only slow his grind.
Yet... yesterday he'd reconsidered. A Witch beyond his control might also break the quest's rhythm; this was his game, revolving around him—not a breeding ground for a future enemy.
So,
Locke suspected he'd missed some detail. After all, he was the protagonist, not God, and lacked omniscient sight.
Cordelia met his gaze and said quietly, "I believe you would."
She knew Locke killed without hesitation.
Still... she frowned. "What exactly do you want?"
"I told you."
"You don't need me at all."
Cordelia shook her head. "You have a girlfriend—you said so yourself—and I can feel how much you love her."
"Thank you."
Locke smiled, pleased that someone finally understood his love for Gwen was too deep to let him become a cheating scumbag. "I need you to become the Supreme Witch."
"What?"
"I don't know any other Salem Witches. You're the only one I've met, and the first to speak to me since I arrived."
Locke shrugged. "I call that fate."
"I don't."
"Why not?"
"I lack the potential to become Supreme. You've got the wrong person."
"No."
Locke shook his head. "You have the potential, so you must become the Supreme Witch. There's only one way you can refuse: if you honestly believe that even when a mortal sticks a knife in a Witch's heart, witches and mortals can still live in peace—if you want to be Professor X. If that were the case, I wouldn't press you. So, are you Professor X?"
Cordelia met Locke's descending gaze.
It was eerily soft.
And chillingly cold.
Cordelia had no doubt that if she said yes, the next second she would lie as cold and lifeless as the two corpses behind her in the warehouse.
But… Cordelia pressed her lips. "This World belongs to mortals; White Witches should obey mortal laws. Yet if mortals strike first, we aren't prey to be bullied."
If she truly stood on the mortals' side, she wouldn't have watched Locke kill Hank Fox without lifting a finger.
Either abide by mortal law; if mortals flip the table, we'll flip it right back.
Or unleash another massacre.
Choose the lesser of two evils.
Cordelia had simply picked the path that looked easier to peace.
Locke smiled faintly. "That answer—I can't say I'm pleased, but… it'll do."
Professor X didn't see it that way.
Though he preached coexistence, every time humanity flipped the table and Magneto finally got his knives ready, Professor X—without fail—stood with the mortals, mouth protesting, body honest.
Every single time.
But Cordelia?
She'd just proved, with her own husband's death, that she was no hypocrite like Professor X.
Good enough.
Locke thought, chuckling, then turned to leave.
"Wait!"
"…Yes?"
Cordelia watched him. "You're just leaving?"
Locke smiled. "The Witch Convocation hasn't begun yet; you'll become Supreme Witch, Cordelia. Before that, I have business to handle."
The Doran Church here needs cleaning up.
Otherwise, when the Convocation starts, these nuisances could cause trouble.
"We'll meet again soon."
He smiled. "Cordelia, I trust you'll keep my identity secret. Only you know. If a third person finds out—believe me, I'll be very upset."
With that—
a boom—
Locke vanished on the spot.
Cordelia gaped at the spot where he'd disappeared like a ghost, her mind swirling with questions.
Just then—
she came to her senses, turned, and re-entered the warehouse, gaze falling on Hank Fox's wide-eyed corpse, his soul already consigned to hell.
Miss Robichauxs Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies!
Boom!
Cordelia stepped from a white mist carrying Hank's body, then thudded it to the floor.
Her sudden appearance startled several witches in the hall.
Especially the three student witches.
"Cordelia, this…"
"Hank. Her husband."
Fiona told the ever-curious Zoe, then rose, frowning at Cordelia. "You reek of darkness… and Vampire."
"He wasn't a Vampire!"
"Who?"
Cordelia shook her head, pointed at the body. "Dispose of him."
"What happened?"
"He asked for it."
Looking at Hank, Cordelia felt only estrangement. "You were right—like father, like son."
Fiona blinked, then understood. "A Dark Witch killed him?"
"No."
Cordelia shook her head. "The Dark Witch was his mistress."
"What?"
The overload made Fiona wave her cigarette out. "Start from the beginning."
Cordelia looked up. "He was a Witch Hunter; the Dark Witch was his lover. Now both are dead. Her body's ash; I can't do fire magic, so I brought him back for you to finish."
That was all.
She had no intention of resurrecting Hank Fox with witchcraft.
Unless she'd lost her mind.
Remembering she'd shared a man with a Dark Witch made Cordelia itch as if she were filthy.
She headed for her bedroom without looking back. "Get rid of him."
Fiona stared after her daughter, feeling she'd become a stranger.
Meanwhile, curious Zoe and the other students gaped, trying to process the bombshell.
319. The Origin of Witch Hunters
Tonight's late hours felt unusually long.
Bang!
Locke landed steadily on the hotel balcony, then pushed open the door and walked in, just in time to see the bespectacled nerd, whose hands and feet were bound, face red and swollen like a pig's head.
"Ha."
Locke let out an involuntary laugh, looking at Carrie who was sitting on the sofa with her arms crossed: "Did you hit him?"
Carrie was expressionless: "He wasn't telling the truth!"
The bespectacled nerd wailed.
"I really don't know..."
"Slap!"
Carrie's right hand lashed out, and a palm made of magic directly slapped the bespectacled nerd's right cheek again.
Instantly.
The bespectacled nerd's face swelled up again.
Locke smiled and walked towards the bar, not stopping Carrie.
Carrie was already full of anger.
After all... from a certain perspective, Anila Katz was a reflection of her past self. In Carrie's eyes, she was just lucky to have met Locke, and if she hadn't met Locke, her ultimate fate would probably have been the same as Anila Katz's.
Burned.
Discarded.
Even stripped naked and buried in the wilderness.
If Locke hadn't been there, Carrie wouldn't have held back at all. If Carrie had come alone, by the time Locke arrived, the town of Lake Lery would probably have been completely wiped out by Carrie.
Carrie, seeing Locke, who seemed not to object and was walking to the bar to find a drink, got up, grabbed a fruit plate from the table, and with a bang, slammed it directly onto the head of the wailing bespectacled nerd.
The bespectacled nerd was instantly stunned.
"Are you going to talk or not?"
"..."
Damn it, Hank, Rhode, where the hell are you? Why aren't you here yet?
The bespectacled nerd only felt a buzzing in his head, and then, he felt his forehead warm. He looked down and saw blood pouring down like sweat.
The next second.
The bespectacled nerd let out another scream.
But... Carrie threw a dark orb directly into the bespectacled nerd's mouth.
Over at the bar.
Locke, holding a wine glass and sipping the bourbon, saw this, chuckled, walked over, and sat directly on the coffee table, looking at the bespectacled nerd tied to the chair, and nodded to Carrie beside him.
Carrie opened her right hand, and with a whoosh, the dark orb that had been stuffed into the bespectacled nerd's mouth like a gag shot out, transforming into black mist and dissolving into the air.
Locke had a smile on his face.
"Hello."
"Ah!"
"Pfft!"
"Ah!!!"
Locke released his right hand, looked at the fruit knife embedded in the bespectacled nerd's right leg, smiled, and with a flick of his left hand, another fruit knife appeared: "Scream again, and it'll be the other leg. The third time, I'll chop off your hand. Understand?"
The bespectacled nerd instantly shut his mouth, his forehead a mix of blood and cold sweat.
But he didn't scream anymore.
Locke looked at Carrie beside him: "This is why we need to learn, understand? If you don't learn, you won't know what kind of interrogation can make people obey."
Carrie looked at the bespectacled nerd, who had completely shut up after a single sentence, and nodded as if she understood but didn't quite.
Locke said: "You can ask Chester about it later, he knows."
Interrogation is also a field of study.
Locke had systematically learned it from Chester, and then, with Clyde Sheldon, he had also taught it. Speaking of which, the directions taught by Clyde Sheldon and Chester were somewhat similar yet different, more or less the same.
However.
Assassins and agents were originally trained in the same way; it was just that their career paths were different in the end.
Locke didn't pay too much attention to it either.
"Pfft!"
"Ah..."
"Ugh!"
The bespectacled nerd looked at the fruit knife that had once again landed on his left thigh, just about to let out a loud scream, and then, seeing Locke pull out another fruit knife, he gritted his teeth, cold sweat pouring down, trembling all over: "Why!"
He had stopped screaming.
"I like it."
"..."
Locke picked up the bourbon next to him, took a sip expressionlessly, said a word, and then, holding the wine glass, looked at the bespectacled nerd: "I'll only ask you one thing: who killed Anila Katz?"
"I..."
The bespectacled nerd almost squeezed the words through his teeth, still trying to struggle, waiting for a rescue that he didn't know was impossible, but looking at Locke, who had smiled and stabbed him twice, he still flinched: "It was Rhode and Old Fox."
Locke looked at Carrie, as if to say, 'How about that?'
Carrie crossed her arms, seriously recalling Locke's recent actions, committing them to memory, after all, you learn something new every day.
Locke came back to his senses and looked at the bespectacled nerd expressionlessly: "Continue."
The bespectacled nerd trembled all over, his voice weak as he recounted the true story of Anila Katz.
In fact... it was pretty much as Locke had guessed.
That Ian Mullan was a scapegoat. According to the bespectacled nerd, Ian Mullan was cursed while executing a witch who practiced curses. As long as Ian Mullan spoke again, his life force would rapidly disappear, and he would even vomit out his organs, dying a very painful death.
So, when Locke and Carrie came looking, Jim Rohn thought of convicting Ian Mullan to get Locke and Carrie to leave quickly. After all, this year was the witches' gathering, and they already knew where the witches would gather. They were already eagerly preparing to round up all the New Orleans witches this time.
As for why Jim Rohn changed his mind?
Cold sweat poured down the bespectacled nerd's forehead, his upper and lower teeth chattering: "Jim Rohn has an unusual sixth sense. He can feel the safety of the future for a period of time after making this choice."
Locke raised an eyebrow: "Sixth sense?"
Speaking of which, shouldn't he be the only one who has this?
Gwen seemed to have it too.
But... Gwen's seemed to only apply to him.
The bespectacled nerd's voice was already very weak: "Because Rhode's grandmother was a witch."
Locke was slightly startled by this answer.
The next second.
Locke laughed: "A descendant of a witch becoming your leader, what were you thinking?"
The bespectacled nerd shook his head: "Old Fox is the same, but they are men. Men don't awaken witch potential, so they are very hostile towards witches. Both Rhode and Old Fox, when they learned about this in their youth, burned the awakened witches in their families to death."
"Hiss!"
Locke gasped, hearing this: "He's truly a ruthless one."
He knew it.
How could someone who could fight him for a round without falling behind be an unknown person? As it turned out, he wasn't. Good heavens, he was a formidable individual.
"Salem only protects witches, not warlocks."
"And men with witch blood who want to become witches can only seek out others who can grant them power."
"But they have Salem blood."
"No dimension will accept them and lend them power."
"So..."
The bespectacled nerd seemed to have opened the floodgates, speaking freely and without reservation: "Rhode, Old Fox, and several other witch descendants, they all despise the Salem witches more than we do."
Locke nodded.
He could understand.
If he were in the same situation, he would also feel indignant. After all, why? Why can't I be a witch just because I'm a man? This isn't fair... Wait.
I think I am a witch.
Locke came back to his senses, blinked, and shook his head.
After saying these things he shouldn't have, the bespectacled nerd looked at Locke with a desperate longing: "Let me go. I'll tell you, I'll give you a copy of that surveillance footage. You want proof, don't you? I'll testify in court."
No one is unafraid of death.
Just now, the bespectacled nerd simply believed that Rhode and Hank would appear to save him.
But... Rhode and Hank disappointed him, so it was very normal for him to try to save himself out of a desire to live.
Locke listened to these words and looked at the bespectacled nerd.
"Surveillance copy."
"You first promise that you'll let me go."
"I promise you won't die."
Locke didn't disappoint the bespectacled nerd and gave his promise: "Now, the surveillance copy. If you say you put it by Lake Lery, then..."
The bespectacled nerd quickly said: "It's not in Lake Lery, it's in the city, in an apartment I rented."
Saying that.
Driven by the desire to survive, the bespectacled nerd immediately revealed the hiding place of the surveillance copy.
Locke smiled, got up, and looked at Carrie: "Deal with him."
Carrie was expressionless, and a dark orb appeared again in her right hand.
The bespectacled nerd felt his whole being crumble. Looking at Locke walking towards the balcony, he immediately shrieked: "You promised me!"
Locke stopped, looked at the bespectacled nerd, his smile still on his lips: "Yes, I promised you. I said I'd guarantee you wouldn't die, but I didn't say I'd let you live!"
For Locke, death was always the most merciful punishment.
He had many ways to make someone wish they were dead.
And under supernatural powers, the ways to make someone wish they were dead were even more numerous.
Moreover... the bespectacled nerd had seen his true appearance. If he thought about it carefully, it was impossible.
Very few people knew Locke's true appearance, but one point always remained: they were either people Locke trusted without reservation, like Chester, or people Locke trusted and could control, like Carrie, or people Locke wanted to make seriously consider something by revealing his appearance, like Cordelia, who had just learned his appearance.
This bespectacled nerd was not among them.
Locke turned around.
Behind him.
The bespectacled nerd was being immersed in the dark orb, his brain undergoing a baptism, emitting bursts of horrifying screams.
It was strange.
Once on the balcony, the piercing screams from the living room suddenly ceased.
The air was completely silent...
320. Green Hunterss and the Arrival
"Tonight..."
"Why does it feel so long?"
At Lake Lyre outside the city, the cold wind was biting. Light snow had even begun to fall from the sky once more, adding a bone-chilling frostiness to the air.
Jim Rhode looked up at the night sky, and suddenly, a wave of unease rose in his heart.
"Long?"
Old Fox smiled beside him, filling both their glasses. He took an exquisite antique pocket watch from his coat: "It's already five o'clock. The day is about to break."
As he spoke.
Old Fox looked toward the shivering men coming from the docks: "Well? Did you find it?"
The men walked over and tossed the eerie waterweeds that had grown from the underwater Witch's Grave onto the table between Old Fox and Jim Rhode.
The waterweeds were soaking wet and even emitted an aura of magic.
These waterweeds were called Sensory Grass.
In the past, witches would use this Sensory Grass combined with other ingredients to make potions, which they would then smear on objects. This way, the objects would react when they encountered a Witch.
This was also the reason why the badges of the Witch Hunters would change color when they discovered a Witch.
They were using the witches' own potions to find witches and then hunt them down.
"Boss."
One of the subordinates said to Jim Rhode: "The underwater pit has been dug. We're just waiting for Hank to bring back that Witch who killed our brothers."
Old Fox laughed loudly: "My son should be back very soon."
Poor Old Fox seemed unaware that his son had already gone to Hell to report to Mephisto at this very moment.
Jim Rhode pulled up the bag containing the Sensory Grass and tossed it directly to his subordinate, saying expressionlessly: "Take this to the Voodoo Queen. Same old rules, an eighty-twenty split."
Witch potions, as the name suggests, can only be made by witches; Voodoo practitioners can do it too.
But they alone could not.
They had the bloodline of the Salem Witches, but they were men. Forget becoming witches, they couldn't even achieve awakening, let alone manufacture Witch potions.
The subordinate nodded and took the bag Jim Rhode had tossed: "Boss, I'm heading out then."
Jim Rhode nodded: "Be careful."
He was very uneasy.
But... he could only sense an ill omen; he had no way to discern where this omen was coming from.
Old Fox drained his glass of whiskey: "In another hour, the sun will be up. Then, tomorrow, the New York Doran Church headquarters will send people over. This time, we can finally wipe out that group of damned witches in one fell swoop."
Why was it that women could become witches but men could not?
There was a saying for this.
It is not scarcity that is the problem, but inequality.
Don't be fooled by the fact that they had persisted in hunting witches for so many years; it was because they also had the potential to become witches, but were barred solely by their gender. It could be said that if they could, they would transform in an instant from Witch Hunters to Witch Guardians.
Guarding the best witches in the World.
Men, after all.
Transcendence meant immortality, a long lifespan, and even greater power. Who wouldn't be tempted in the face of such allure?
So, when they were tempted, they found they could see the door but couldn't enter. In fact, because of the Salem connection, they couldn't even take other paths.
What they couldn't have, they would destroy!
Thus, they became Witch Hunters.
Jim Rhode nodded, first agreeing with Old Fox's statement: "That daughter-in-law of yours, she doesn't suspect you, does she?"
The once-in-three-hundred-years Witch Convocation was only two days away.
This time, they had invited Doran Churches from all over the Federation to converge on New Orleansand join the grand event together. This time, because they had an inside man—and Hank Fox had even visited that Witch Academy—they were confident. On the night the Supreme Witch was selected during the Witch Convocation, they would set a fire, just like in the Salem era, to completely bury the survivors of these damned Salem Witches.
Naturally.
The fact that the New York headquarters of the Doran Church could come this time was of extraordinary significance to them.
Originally, the New York church didn't seem to intend to come, but around eight or nine o'clock tonight, a call came through. They stated that after they sent the Crusaders tomorrow, they would discuss the alliance to wipe out the Salem Witches.
As for the Crusaders, their ancestors were genuine Holy See Crusaders. They were a different matter entirely from the current Holy See that occupied the Vatican and relied on the remnants of the Heaven Dimension to manufacture so-called holy water.
The silver greatswords of the Crusader Descendants of the Doran Church could quickly and precisely slice open the bellies of one Witch after another.
Old Fox shook his head: "I know you think Calder is coming, but he's not. Even the 36th Generation Priest Dolan won't be coming."
Jim Rhode frowned and looked at Old Fox.
Could this be the source of his unease?
"Calder isn't coming?"
He was the most famous hunter in the Doran Church. Any Witch discovered by him, without exception, would be killed. He was known for never leaving any survivors.
Old Fox nodded: "A new Witch has appeared in New York called Dark Sovereign Syndra. Calder and the 36th Generation Priest Dolan are searching for her tracks. They suspect she is related to the Black Witch who once destroyed the World."
"Dark Sovereign! Syndra!"
"Yes."
Old Fox was retired, but as a veteran of the Doran Church, while he guarded what was officially called Lake Lyre but was actually a Witch's Grave, he still served as a Doran liaison: "But don't worry, the Captain of the Crusaders is leading the team this time, and there are several powerful Green Hunterss!"
Jim Rhode was slightly stunned: "Really?"
Old Fox nodded: "Yes."
Jim Rhode was slightly excited: "That's great then."
Just as there were Salem Witches, Green Hunterss naturally corresponded to Grimm Wesen. In fact, unlike the Salem Dimension which only protected females, the Grimm Dimension was all-encompassing.
However, Green Hunterss didn't kill all Grimm creatures; they only killed evil Grimm creatures, acting like sheriffs among them.
Unfortunately.
Like all other dimensions, while the Grimm Dimension was open to all, it kept a distance from creatures already branded by others.
When Old Fox and Jim Rhode were young, after learning that Grimm creatures existed in the Portlandarea, they had gone to look for them, and Grimm had given his promise.
There was only one way to obtain Grimm Power: to erase the brand on their bodies. How to erase it? Naturally, by killing Salem Witches. If the Salem Witch line was severed, they could join the Grimm.
This was also a major reason why they became Salem Witch Hunters.
Using Salem blood to pave their path toward becoming Grimm and obtaining Grimm Power.
Only... after an hour passed and the sky began to brighten, Jim Rhode looked up at the beautiful snowflakes in the sky and then at Old Fox: "Is Hank not back yet?"
Old Fox was also starting to feel that something was strange.
In the past, no matter how late Hank hunted, he would always return before dawn. After all, they knew they were killing damned witches, but if they were discovered, people would think they were murderers.
Just then.
A subordinate ran in from outside: "Boss, Roy is gone."
Roy was that glasses-wearing geek.
"What?"
Jim Rhode felt a sense of impending doom: "Didn't I tell you to keep an eye on him?"
He had thought about getting rid of Roy as well after sending Marren away, just to be safe.
But... though he was the boss, as the saying goes, the boss is often just a figurehead. Subordinates never see your worries; they only see you discarding them after they've served their purpose.
So, although Jim Rhode wanted to deal with Roy, out of concern for the other members' feelings, he chose to let Roy stay put and not run around. To be safe, he had still sent someone to watch him.
The result?
"Where did Roy go?"
Jim Rhode said in a heavy voice: "When did he go missing?"
The subordinate opened his mouth, hesitating to speak.
Jim Rhode felt like his whole World was falling apart.
A moment later.
Inside the town's Doran Church.
Jim Rhode walked into the surveillance Room and looked at a frame in the security footage. In that frame, inside Roy's Room, the Roy sleeping on the bed would occasionally shift, revealing his face.
The subordinate who followed him in said sheepishly: "Boss, Roy said he didn't like being watched while he slept, so he turned on the camera himself. I saw Roy sleeping and didn't pay much attention. But then the sun came up, and his side was still dark, so I started to feel..."
Jim Rhode exploded instantly: "fuck! Roy is a computer expert! How hard is it for him to make a fake surveillance loop?"
One subordinate frowned: "Boss, Roy went out with Hank yesterday."
"Hmm?"
Jim Rhode looked at the subordinate who spoke.
The subordinate stepped forward and said: "I was on night watch last night. Hank brought Roy over and said he'd already talked to you. Hank needed Roy to help him lure out that Witch."
"When the hell did I ever say that?"
"I sent you a message."
"..."
Jim Rhode took out his phone. Only now did the notification pop up. His words were practically squeezed through his teeth: "Dammit, signal jammers were installed at Lake Lyre yesterday afternoon. Didn't you know about that?"
To prevent similar incidents from happening again—like the Police Department finding Lake Lyre.
So... Jim Rhode had rushed to set up a batch of signal jammers around Lake Lyre to ensure that even if future witches had any tracking devices, they would be useless.
The result?
He'd screwed himself over?
"fuck!"
Just then, a subordinate rushed in frantically.
"Boss, the New Orleans Police Department... they're back!!"
321. When a Wall Falls, Everyone Pushes
Wooo! Wooo!
The sirens of the New Orleans Police Department echoed through the skies over the small town of Lake Lyre.
Bang!
Bang!
Kaup and Keno stepped out of their police car.
Not far away.
Jim Rhode led Old Fox out of the Doran Church. Seeing the massive display of force, which even included the SWAT Team, he wore an exaggerated expression as he walked toward Kaup, who was approaching with sunglasses on.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!"
Jim Rhode's expression was incredibly exaggerated, filled with disbelief and shock. "Detective Thornton, what is going on? Is it necessary to make such a big scene?"
Kaup took off his sunglasses and looked at Jim Rhode.
Couldn't tell at all.
You can know a person's face but not their heart. I didn't expect a guy with big eyes and thick eyebrows like you to have such peculiar hobbies.
You don't love women; you love roasting women?
Beside him, Detective Keno, looking cold as frost, pulled a freshly issued arrest warrant from her coat. She looked at Jim Rhode, Old Fox, and the rest of the group. "Mr. Jim Rhode, this is your arrest warrant!"
Jim Rhode froze instantly. "What?"
Detective Keno waved her right hand without looking back. "Arrest them!"
"Wait..."
Old Fox was also slightly stunned. However, before he could speak, Detective Keno grabbed his outstretched right arm, performed a takedown, and with a bang, pinned him directly onto the hood of the police car.
In an instant.
Old Fox let out a scream of pain.
Click!
Ignoring Old Fox's screams, Detective Keno handcuffed him directly. "Stay still!"
She had seen Roy, who had come to turn himself in that morning, and the surveillance footage he had brought.
Goodfellas.
It was fine not to see it, but once she did, it completely broke Detective Keno's composure.
It was too cruel.
Too bloody.
Too devoid of humanity.
Although New Orleans had always had this so-called Witch-burning ritual, it was supposed to be fake, not real. When the truth was laid out before everyone, probably no one would believe it.
This wasn't the Middle Ages anymore.
The Holy See?
Who do they think they are?
Back when Henry IV led his troops to breach Rome and forced the Pope to flee the city, the authority of the Holy See had completely vanished in the eyes of secular dynasties.
And now, such barbaric behavior still existed?
Under Detective Keno's lead, the SWAT Team charged in like tigers into a flock of sheep. In just a few moves, they matched the faces against the facial recognition portraits from the surveillance. One by one, they arrested nearly half of the Doran Church—about thirty people in total.
The people of the Doran Church wanted to resist.
But... this wasn't China; they wouldn't give you warnings. The SWAT officers' rifles were chambered, and the other officers had their guns drawn, watching like hawks. Although the shooting skills of the New Orleans Police Department were far inferior to those of the NYPD...
They still had the ability to empty a magazine in five seconds.
As for Jim Rhode?
Kaup walked behind Jim Rhode with handcuffs and cuffed him, as he offered no resistance. "Mr. Rhode, this time, you won't get away."
Jim Rhode's eyes flickered.
He didn't even ask, because there was no need. Seeing this setup and thinking of the missing Roy, he didn't need to think twice to know the problem must have come from Roy.
But what happened to Hank?
This was something Jim Rhode still didn't understand.
However... as Kaup pressed Jim Rhode toward the police car, his tone was light. Standing by the open back door of the cruiser, ready to get in, he turned to look at Kaup. "Detective Thornton, there are two days left. Is your money ready?"
Kaup was slightly taken aback.
The next second.
Kaup shoved Jim Rhode directly into the police car. "You'd better think about how your lawyer can turn your execution into a more comfortable lethal injection, you scum!"
Thump.
Jim Rhode's head hit the roof of the car, and he couldn't help but howl in pain, but he was soon silenced.
New Orleans Police Department.
For this arrest operation, they had specifically cleared out the holding cells on the first floor. One by one, the members of the Doran Church were thrown inside.
"Keno!"
"Boss?"
Kaup pulled Jim Rhode out of the car and headed toward the interrogation room on the first floor, calling out to Keno, "Has the salvage team gone over?"
Keno was also escorting Old Fox. Hearing Kaup's question, she said, "Don't worry, Boss. They're already prepared to drain the water from Lake Lyre."
Old Fox's body stiffened.
It's all over.
Kaup nodded and handed Jim Rhode over to an officer, tossing the interrogation log over as well. He glanced at Jim Rhode and then told the officer, "Just ask some routine questions, fill out the forms, and send him straight to the District Attorneys Office."
There was witness testimony.
There was video evidence.
Even if Jim Rhode insisted it wasn't him, it was useless. The District Attorneys Office had enough evidence to prosecute. Once in court, no matter how eloquent the opposing lawyer was, as soon as the surveillance video was played, not a single person on the twelve-member jury would likely hold a dissenting opinion.
In fact, by the time Kaup applied for the arrest warrant from the court, the District Attorneys Office had already sprung into action.
"How is it?"
At a roadside cafe not far from the New Orleans Police Department.
Locke and Carrie were drinking their morning coffee, witnessing the scene of the Doran Church group being escorted into the police station.
"Tsk tsk."
Locke shook his head. Thinking of Jim Rhode, who insisted on provoking him even after seizing a slim chance of survival, he laughed. "This is why one must always keep a low profile."
I gave you a chance to live, not a chance to act tough.
Why bother?
Look.
With just a little effort from me, you've fallen.
That's all there is to it.
Carrie was silent for a moment. "You said that for some people, a legal trial is a form of mercy, and these people don't deserve that mercy."
Locke looked at Carrie and smiled. "Still not satisfied?"
Carrie didn't want to lie. She looked at Locke and nodded. "Yes."
"Go tonight then."
"Huh?"
"Here."
"...A notice?"
Carrie looked at the object Locke handed her, took it, and quickly tucked it away.
Locke picked up his coffee, took a sip, and said with a smile, "As for what to write, just hold that blank notice and think for yourself; it will help you fill it in automatically. Back in New York, you were already the second Judge. Since they are guilty, if you feel the mercy of the law isn't enough for them, then do it yourself."
A notice of sin is never given to the innocent or to innocent bystanders.
This was an ironclad rule.
But for sinners?
The notice of sin follows them like a shadow; the only difference is whether one chooses to act or not.
"By the way."
Locke thought for a moment and said to Carrie, "It is inside the police station, after all. Show some respect and don't make the scene too bloody."
Carrie squeezed the notice of sin in her pocket and nodded.
The next second.
"Thank you!"
"Haha."
Locke laughed at Carrie's thanks.
Just then.
A black luxury car for lawyers pulled up at the entrance of the police station nearby.
Locke raised an eyebrow and flicked his right hand.
Whoosh!
Boom!
The lawyer, known as the number one shyster in New Orleans, had just rushed over from his law firm after receiving the news. Just as he opened his car door, a pitch-black flash slammed into his car window.
The card embedded itself directly into the glass. The glass instantly turned into a web of cracks like snowflakes, but it didn't shatter.
The lawyer's eyes narrowed, and he jumped in fright.
The next second.
Looking at this mysterious black card that shimmered with gold in the sunlight—a card legendary throughout the Federation—the lawyer swallowed hard. He reached out his right hand and, trembling, pinched the card and pulled it out.
Instantly.
The window glass, as if it were supposed to break, shattered all over the ground.
notice of sin!]
Get lost!]
Peerless!!]
"Ah!"
The lawyer screamed as he saw the content on the card. He threw the card into the air and then, pale with terror, didn't even want his car anymore. He dropped his briefcase and, as if his backside were on fire, ran away in the opposite direction of the police station, looking utterly terrified and out of his mind.
"Heh."
"That doesn't seem like you."
"This guy happens to be a relative of Lawyer Laun."
"Oh."
Carrie nodded upon hearing this.
Locke watched the lawyer running away as if his tail were on fire and shook his head. If Lawyer Launhadn't called him before he went to New Orleans and told him he could call this guy if anything happened, frankly, Locke wouldn't have done that.
But... Lawyer Laun had helped him a lot. At the very least, his'small goal' of a hundred million could be credited to Lawyer Laun's assistance in earning it.
So, he showed some face.
Inside the interrogation room.
Jim Rhode frowned deeply as he looked at the phone that no one was answering.
His lawyer... was no longer taking his calls.
The officer sitting across from him looked at Jim Rhode holding the phone and said suspiciously, "Hey, are you intentionally stalling for time?"
Jim Rhode looked up at the officer. "Do you know who I am?"
"A suspect?"
"You..."
Jim Rhode took a deep breath. "I'm calling the State Senator."
He was a local power player in New Orleans, after all—as evidenced by his ability to influence the Police Department's forensic doctor. His influence was not small; he even knew the big shots in this building.
Unfortunately.
That big shot had also seen the recording. After watching it, he had decisively blocked every one of Jim Rhode's contact methods.
At the same time, he told everyone he and Jim Rhode knew in common about the situation.
For instance, that State Senator.
Without a doubt.
Jim Rhode's call was in vain once again. After the other party heard him identify himself, they simply stated with a smile that the senator had just left...
322 Three Hundred Twenty-Two: Carrie's Debut
Without a doubt.
He was completely blocked.
"fuck!"
"Bang!"
The Police Officer who intended to just go through the motions watched his phone trace a beautiful arc through the air, then smash against the wall, instantly shattering into pieces. He couldn't help but open his mouth wide in shock.
My phone.
The next second.
The Officer stared at Jim Rhode, who had been kindly lent the phone only to have it smashed to smithereens, his eyes turning red with fury.
My girlfriend's nude photos were still on that damn phone.
"shit!"
"Ah!"
Jim Rhode only saw a blur before his eyes. Looking up, he saw a dark shadow rapidly approaching. Then, his nose throbbed with pain, and he let out a sharp cry.
Hearing the noise from outside the interrogation room, Kaup and Detective Cain rushed in to find Jim Rhode lying on the floor, holding his head in a professional defensive posture against the blows.
And the Officer... in a frenzied state, straddling Jim Rhode and relentlessly attacking.
Chaos ensued.
Finally managing to pull the frenzied Officer out, Kaup rubbed his forehead, looking at the disheveled Jim Rhode, who had been dragged back to the interrogation chair. He couldn't help but shake his head.
At that moment.
An Officer hurriedly walked in, looking at Kaup in the interrogation room: "Officer, a notice of sin has been found at the entrance."
Hearing this, Detective Cain turned his head: "What?"
Kaup also moved his neck slightly, turned around with a swish, and looked at the Officer who had come to deliver the news: "What notice of sin? Where?"
"At the entrance."
"Let's go!"
Kaup glanced back at Jim Rhode and headed straight for the interrogation room door: "Find someone else to have Mr. Rhode sign the papers, then send him to the District Attorney's Office."
Arriving at the entrance.
A group of Officers had already gathered, pointing and discussing the notice of sin embedded in the wall. Seeing Kaup and Detective Cain approach, they quickly made way.
Kaup looked up at the notice of sin on the wall, then turned to survey the surroundings.
"Did anyone see when this thing arrived?"
"No."
"We checked the surveillance footage. About five minutes ago, a dark shadow flew over."
"..."
Kaup fetched a stool, pulled out the deeply embedded notice of sin. It was embedded so deeply that Kaup nearly fell off the stool after removing it.
Fortunately.
Several Officers steadied Kaup.
notice of sin!
Notifier: "Doran Church"
Charge: "False Judgment"
Sentence: Death!
Executor: Syndra!
"..."
"Huh?"
"Not the Peerless Assassin?"
"A fake?"
"Bullshit."
"Who would dare impersonate the Peerless Assassin now?"
"Then what is this..."
"I remember, this Syndra seems to have appeared once before, in New York, with that corrupt District Attorney's Office."
"Right, right, I remember now."
"The one on TV?"
"The one with the long legs and white stockings?"
"Yes, yes, that's her!"
The gathered Officers discussed the contents of the notice of sin in Kaup's hand.
Listening to the Officers' chatter, Kaup pocketed the notice of sin, exchanged a glance with Detective Cain, and then headed inside the Police Department.
In the office.
The notice of sin had already been taken by Kaup to the technicians in the lab for analysis.
As for what to compare it with... without a doubt.
He knew a professional who had been dedicated to capturing the Peerless Assassin for two years.
The Chief Inspector of the NYPD, Chief Inspector George Stacy.
"What?"
"What did you say?"
"A notice of sin?"
George, who was having dinner in New York, heard Kaup's call and excitedly stood up from his chair, saying into the phone: "Are you sure? Are you sure it's that damn Peerless Assassin?"
Goodfellas.
I knew you hadn't disappeared; you just moved your base to New Orleans.
What?
Found a new love?
Or, facing my relentless pursuit, you think you're about to lose, so you decided to leave New York and seek new opportunities in New Orleans?
Without a second thought.
You're mine, and I will catch you.
George's thoughts raced: "Kaup, wait for me. I'm coming right away."
On the other end, Kaup sighed at his friend's obsession with the Peerless Assassin. Hearing this, he felt it necessary to clarify: "It is a notice of sin, but the executor isn't the Peerless Assassin."
George paused: "What?"
Kaup explained: "It's Syndra. I heard she's an accomplice of the Peerless Assassin, but I'm worried someone might be impersonating her. You're the expert on the Peerless Assassin, so you must have the largest collection of Notices of sin. I want you to send over the analysis data so we can compare."
"No need."
"Ah!"
George said solemnly: "Syndra, the Dark Sovereign. Yes, she's the Peerless Assassin's accomplice. No one would dare impersonate her."
Since the Drug Addict Barry incident.
Not only would no one dare impersonate, but even the boldest capitalists wouldn't dare print toys resembling Notices of sin. Even so-called crime writers wouldn't dare write stories about how they captured the Peerless Assassin.
George thought for a moment, then continued: "But I'll send you the analysis report. And wait for me—I'll come over as soon as possible."
He paused.
George added: "Tonight, you must heighten security, especially in the early morning hours, around four or five o'clock. Be extra vigilant and careful!"
Once a notice of sin appears, the sentence on it will be carried out within forty-eight hours.
But more often than not, the Peerless Assassin shows up on the same day the Notice appears.
That means... either tonight, or if not tonight, then by this time the day after tomorrow. If we miss this chance, who knows when the next Notice will appear.
Peerless Assassin, just you wait.
This time, I'll catch Syndra first, and then you won't escape either.
George quickly wiped his lips and headed to the study to book a flight for early the next morning.
Sitting nearby and also eating, Gwen watched George's actions and blinked.
Wait.
Dad is going to New Orleans?
This... is perfect.
Gwen thought to herself, exchanging a glance with Helen. The latter, seeing the look in her daughter's eyes, immediately knew what Gwen was thinking. She didn't stop her, just sighed that daughters grow up and leave, then nodded at George, who was heading toward the stairs: "If your father agrees..."
Before she could finish.
Gwen also left the table.
In the second-floor study.
Following him in, Gwen saw George already opening his computer to book the ticket and quickly called out: "Wait!"
George was startled, looking at Gwen as she entered.
The next second.
George seemed to realize something, his face darkening: "I have serious business in New Orleans."
Gwen walked over: "Dad, I have serious business too."
George rolled his eyes: "No!"
Gwen was taken aback: "Why?"
"An accomplice of the Peerless Assassin has appeared in New Orleans."
"And then?"
"What do you mean 'and then'?"
Gwen shrugged: "The Peerless Assassin isn't some inhuman, antisocial serial killer. I'm going to see Locke, not the Peerless Assassin. What's the problem?"
George opened his mouth.
Gwen stepped closer, behave in a spoiled manner: "Dad, just let me go with you. Otherwise, I'll buy my own ticket."
George: "..."
At that moment.
Ding-dong!
Gwen took out her phone, saw the video call from Locke, blinked, and then directly declined.
In a New Orleans hotel.
Locke looked at the declined call notification on his phone, curious.
Weren't we supposed to video call at seven?
Why isn't she answering?
After a while.
Gwen sent a text message.
"At my grandparents' house. Let's video tomorrow."
"Okay."
Locke chuckled, edited a reply, then put away his phone and walked out of the bedroom.
In the suite's living room.
Carrie sat on the sofa, intently studying on her computer.
Locke walked over, glanced at the internal layout of the New Orleans Police Department displayed on the screen, and smiled: "How's it going?"
As the saying goes.
The threshold for being an assassin is low, but low doesn't mean nonexistent. At the very least, if you're directionally challenged, you definitely can't be an assassin.
After all, most of an assassin's operations take place in unfamiliar environments. If you do no preparation and are directionally challenged, you'd probably get lost in those unfamiliar places.
Carrie memorized the internal layout on the screen, nodded, looked up at the concerned Locke, and smiled: "This isn't my first time."
This was her second execution of judgment using the notice of sin.
Although the first time, Locke guided her through the entire process, she carefully noted how he delivered the Notice, how he acted, all in preparation for her own independent performance next time.
Seeing this, Locke smiled: "That's good. When are you going?"
Carrie said: "The Notice has been delivered, so they're definitely on high alert. Therefore, they'll be heavily guarded now. Late at night, near dawn, around four o'clock, they'll likely let their guard down."
Locke nodded: "Good timing, but you don't have to."
Carrie looked at Locke, puzzled.
Locke smiled: "You're a Witch. Sometimes I choose four or five o'clock because if I act, it's either death or injury. But you're different. No matter how many people there are, you can put the irrelevant peopleto sleep."
"So..."
"You can choose another time. But if you also like the scenery before dawn, I won't object."
"Really?"
Locke chuckled: "Of course. This is your debut, so I'm bringing an audience. You don't mind, do you?"
Carrie: "..."
323. Black Widow Witch
Yes.
A witness!
Back then, when Locke first undertook a mission under the name 'Peerless,' Chester also found a witness for him. After all, a grand performance would be too boring without an audience. Or, how else would your reputation spread?
That year, Chester invited an adjudicator from the Continental Hotel to witness Locke's solo operation. That's how Locke obtained his Continental Hotel membership card, and the name 'Peerless Assassin' began to enter the market.
However... Locke didn't plan to find an adjudicator from the Continental Hotel this time. After all, Carrie is a witch, not an assassin, and certainly not a killer.
Assassins and killers need cold blood.
But Carrie's blood is warm.
So, Locke decided to find a witch instead.
Cordelia.
Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies.
In a white, minimalist-style bedroom on the third floor.
Cordelia, sitting in front of her vanity mirror, fiddled with a wedding ring on her finger. After a moment of silence, she slowly slipped the ring off.
Boom!
Cordelia turned, looking at the window that had suddenly opened, and the person who appeared in her bedroom, illuminated by the moonlight.
"Cain!"
"Call me Locke."
Locke stepped out of the moonlight, smiling, and said, "My friends all call me that."
Cordelia stood up.
Locke's gaze fell on the wedding ring discarded on the vanity table. He looked at Cordelia: "So, I can't call you Fox anymore?"
"Goode!"
Cordelia said her maiden name, then looked at Locke: "Thank you."
"Thank me for what?"
Locke smiled, hearing Cordelia's sudden thanks: "Thank me for killing your husband?"
Cordelia said, "I was already separated from him. I just hadn't made up my mind to divorce yet."
Now she was a widow.
But, that's good too.
Cordelia thought back to her irresponsible mother's warning. When Fiona said her marriage was destined to fail, Cordelia had thought she absolutely couldn't let it be as her mother predicted.
Fortunately.
It wasn't a divorce, but widowhood. From a certain perspective, a marriage ending in widowhood isn't necessarily a failure.
"And..."
Cordelia thought to herself, then turned to look at Locke, who was sitting nearby: "Thank you for taking care of all those people."
Locke smiled: "No need. They provoked me first."
To be precise, who told them to kill Carrie's friend? If they hadn't killed Anila Katz, then Carrie wouldn't have found out, Carrie wouldn't have come, and he wouldn't have come. Naturally, the Dolan Church here would not have suffered such a devastating blow.
So... it was all the Dolan Church's fault.
The Dolan Church in New Orleans was too impolite. In this day and age, they were still playing the 'trial by fire' game. Look at New York; Locke hadn't heard of any 'trial by fire' news there.
Perhaps the local church was just too barbaric.
If the Dolan Church hadn't been so barbaric, he would be cuddling with Gwen right now. Although the development wasn't bad, with a big reward mission popping up, the thought of him enduring the cold wind in New Orleans while Gwen was alone on Long Island made Locke feel a bit speechless.
"Achoo!"
"...God bless you."
"..."
Locke rubbed his nose, slightly startled. Just as he was about to wonder who was curious about him this time, he heard Cordelia's blessing and smiled: "Witches, still believe in God?"
For witches, God is a truly bad guy, isn't he?
Other people, if they hate someone, might say, "I'll send you to Mephisto."
Like Locke.
But for witches, the greatest hatred is to say, "I'll send you to God," not to seek God's forgiveness, but to be sent to God so that God will burn your soul with fire.
For the Salem witches, God was an existence akin to Mephisto. After all, the Church Crusaders' witch trials were claimed to be guided by God.
Cordelia smiled: "People can't live in the past. If we do, we'll never be able to embrace the future."
Locke shrugged, holding a different opinion: "I, on the other hand, believe that forgetting the past is equivalent to betraying oneself."
Speaking of which, if he had lived in that era, and by chance, he had a family, with a mother who loved him and a sister, and if they were witches, facing the aggressive Church?
Heh heh.
Locke would ensure that he would give them a taste of their own medicine, even with an increased dose at no extra charge.
Thinking about it this way...
Locke seemed to understand why there were so many black witches, constantly emerging and attempting to destroy the world, after the Church initiated the witch trials.
You couldn't blame them.
The Church made the first move.
Locke suddenly had an epiphany and even felt a tiny bit of agreement with those black witches who planned to destroy the world.
As Locke often said.
He was very good at putting himself in others' shoes.
"So, when is that Supreme Witch election?"
"...The thirty-first."
"Good luck."
Cordelia opened her mouth, then shook her head: "I'm just a potion witch."
She relied mostly on potion-based spellcasting.
And... Cordelia shook her head and said, "My potential isn't even as good as my students'."
Locke smiled, looking at Cordelia: "Do you really think that?"
Low potential?
Not as good as her students?
Out of a total potential value of ten, you alone account for eight points. If that's considered low, then what would Carrie's potential be called? Pre-school potential?
Cordelia frowned.
Locke said with a smile, "You don't believe in yourself, but you should believe in me. If I say you can become the new Supreme Witch, then you can."
If it weren't for the mission.
And if it weren't for the rules of the dimension.
Why would Locke let Cordelia become the Supreme Witch? Wouldn't it be better to let Carrie become the Supreme Witch?
Cordelia wanted to refute Locke's words.
However... Locke had already changed the subject. After all, that wasn't his main purpose for being here.
"Are you free?"
"Hmm?"
Locke smiled as he looked at Cordelia: "I'd like to invite you to a show, and at the same time, witness a newcomer's debut."
Cordelia looked at Locke, a little confused.
But she didn't refuse.
After all... Cordelia didn't sense any malice from Locke.
"...Okay."
"I'll wait for you outside."
"..."
Cordelia opened her mouth, watching Locke, who she thought would leave the way he came, but instead walked directly towards the door. After a moment of hesitation, she saw Locke open the door.
"Hmm?"
In the room opposite, Zoe, who also had soft golden hair, heard the commotion in Cordelia's room next door. Thinking of Madison, who she hadn't found yet, she opened her door, intending to ask about her.
As Zoe opened her door, she saw Locke, who had also just opened his door opposite and was walking out.
Locke also saw Zoe.
Then.
He nodded and smiled.
Is this the legendary new-era witch with powers even greater than a voodoo doll?
Locke had watched "American Horror Story: Coven."
But... he'd seen the summarized version. After all, Locke still preferred traditional romance, like monogamy and unwavering loyalty, so he found those overly sexual and manipulative American dramas hard to stomach.
But... where's Emma?
Locke looked at Zoe, then thought of Emma, who he assumed was Zoe's roommate and was more famous than Zoe.
No.
It should be Madison.
Where is she?
When he realized this was "American Horror Story: Coven," Emma's character, Madison Montgomery, was actually the witch Locke first liked.
In fact, Madison was Locke's backup plan, just as Cordelia was his Professor X.
But.
Locke was choosing a collaborator, not a harem member, and he hadn't even considered having a harem.
Zoe looked curiously at Locke, who had appeared at the door, then at Cordelia in her pajamas in the room, and was slightly startled.
A blind spot! I found Watson!
"You are..."
"Locke."
Locke smiled and shook hands with Zoe, who was looking at him curiously: "Locke Broughton."
"Zoe, Zoe Benson!"
"Hello, Zoe, it's nice to meet you."
Zoe shook Locke's hand, then curiously asked: "Locke, are you Cordelia's..."
"Friend."
Locke closed the door behind him, allowing Cordelia to change clothes, and said with a smile, "Are you a witch who just enrolled this year?"
Zoe's mouth dropped open as she looked at Locke: "You too..."
Locke raised an eyebrow: "I'm a man, a genuine man, not a witch. How can a man be a witch!"
Damn it.
I should have been more careful back then.
Locke recalled that time in Augusta, his first encounter with a supernatural profession. He was so excited to change professions that he threw caution to the wind. He suspected that when he eventually exchanged for the Sun God bloodline, his past as a witch would be the biggest stain on his life.
MMP.
When I become the Sun God in the future, if anyone in the universe dares to say I was once a witch, I'll just have the sun scorch them to death.
Zoe was slightly startled, looking at the somewhat agitated Locke, not understanding why.
"Then..."
"I just have a bit more life experience."
"..."
As they spoke.
Cordelia's door opened again.
"I'm ready."
"Mhm."
Locke nodded, smiled, and said to Zoe, "Goodbye, Zoe, it was nice meeting you."
Zoe blinked.
Just then.
As he turned to walk downstairs with Cordelia, Locke glanced at the ceiling, seemed to remember something, turned back, walked back to Zoe, leaned in, and whispered something in her ear.
Zoe's eyes slowly widened.
Locke smiled: "Goodbye, Zoe."
Zoe: "..."
324. Angry Carrie
"Do you know Zoe?"
"No."
After Locke and Cordelia left the Witch Academy behind them, he opened the door of an audi he had borrowed for the trip and looked at Cordelia. "Why do you ask?"
After Cordelia got into the car, she said, "I thought you said not to tell anyone else about your identity."
Locke smiled. "I'm just Locke, a socially experienced handsome guy born in Texas and from New York. There's nothing shameful about that."
Cordelia was slightly stunned.
Locke smiled. "Besides, I quite like Witches. Otherwise, I wouldn't have done this, would I?"
Although it was mostly for the mission.
But... even without a mission, Locke would still have done it. At most, he just wouldn't have interfered with the election of the Supreme Witch.
Cordelia was silent for a moment and chose to change the subject.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll know when we get there."
"..."
Just like New York City—no, it should be said, just like all cities in the Federation—when the time reached two or three in the morning, the streets were basically empty and pitch black.
At this time, if anyone out and about was caught by the Police Department, eight out of ten would be thieves, and the other two would likely have criminal records.
Who in their right mind in the Federation would wander around at night for no reason? Or rather, who would still be hanging around outside and not home after ten o'clock?
Soon.
On the roof of a building directly facing the New Orleans Police Department.
After Locke and Cordelia went up, they walked over to the rooftop edge and glanced at the Police Department entrance across from them. He looked at Cordelia beside him. "How's the view? Can you see?"
Cordelia followed Locke's gaze to the Police Department and nodded. Then she asked, "So, are you going to tell me why you brought me here?"
Locke smiled. "Where I come from, there's a tradition. When a child is ready to graduate, there needs to be a witness."
"Graduate?"
"Yes."
Locke nodded and pointed at Carrie, who was slowly walking toward the New Orleans Police Department in the distance. "Over there."
Cordelia followed the direction of his finger.
Under the dim streetlights not far away, accompanied by a surge of purple-black mist, the woman Cordelia had seen appearing beside Locke stepped out of the mist once more, her appearance completely transformed.
Silver hair fell to her shoulders.
Long boots.
A trench coat.
A magnificent crown.
Cordelia frowned slightly.
"I feel like... I've seen this somewhere before."
"On TV?"
Cordelia turned her head to look at Locke.
"Yes, Dark Sovereign Syndra, the Peerless Assassin's..."
"Exactly."
Locke was very frank and nodded. "My sister."
Cordelia: "..."
Choosing Cordelia to witness Carrie's first solo mission wasn't a random choice by Locke.
Well.
Part of the reason was that Cordelia was the first person he and Carrie met after arriving in New Orleans, but the bigger reason was that Locke wanted Cordelia to know one thing.
What the price of betraying him would be.
After all... the selection for the Supreme Witch hadn't started yet. Although Locke had plans to recruit Cordelia, there were variables before then. For safety's sake, it was necessary to use this opportunity to give her a warning.
Isn't there a saying that betrayal only happens because the stakes aren't high enough?
Locke would add a bit more to the stakes. He believed that probably no one could offer more than he could.
Cordelia snapped back to her senses and watched Carrie, who had stepped out of the mist and was now covering five meters in a single stride, gliding toward the Police Department as if floating.
"What is she doing?"
Cordelia was slightly stunned. "Those people have already been arrested."
Locke nodded and looked at Cordelia. "Yes, but clearly, my sister feels that a legal trial is far too merciful for those people."
Cordelia opened her mouth.
Locke said with a smile, "Cordelia, I didn't just bring you here to be a witness. Most importantly, I want to tell you that mercy is something the strong give to the weak. But when you appear weak to outsiders, your mercy is nothing more than a sign of being easily bullied."
Professor X actually understands this too.
But... Professor X's heart isn't with his own kind. If Mutants were one nation and ordinary people another, someone like Professor X would undoubtedly be a typical spy, or even a top-tier public intellectual within the Mutant nation.
Locke didn't want Cordelia to learn from Professor X.
Although he said he wouldn't mind being the Magneto among Witches, that wasn't his goal.
Carrie had also been merciful once.
But after that prom, Carrie changed.
To recognize one's faults and correct them is the greatest virtue.
As they spoke.
Thud!
Carrie's toes slowly touched the ground as she stood at the entrance of the New Orleans Police Department.
At the door, the five Police Officers assigned to guard duty were yawning. A second ago, they were saying it was already five o'clock and unlikely anyone would show up.
The next second.
The five of them watched as Carrie suddenly descended slowly from the air, her hands open with dark orb rotating in her palms. Their sleepiness vanished instantly.
"Wha—"
"Thud!"
Carrie's eyes, brimming with magic, looked directly at them. Instantly, the five Police Officers at the door, who were about to sound the alarm or even pull out their sidearms, felt a numbing sensation throughout their bodies. Then, in an instant, their eyes rolled back, and they collapsed with a series of thuds.
But... after doing all this, Carrie didn't choose to walk inside the Police Department.
Locke raised an eyebrow, seemingly thinking of something.
"She has an idea."
"What's she doing?"
"Cordelia, do you want to know the story of my sister's past?"
"Hmm?"
"Have you heard of the Augusta Witch case?"
"I have."
Cordelia nodded. "At the time, after receiving the news, we were already on our way. But halfway there, word came that the Witch had already..."
Speaking up to this point.
Cordelia was suddenly stunned. She looked back at Carrie, who had her arms spread wide with five dark orb rotating rapidly around her as she ascended into the air again. "Could it be..."
Locke nodded, looking at Carrie with appreciation. As the alarms began to blare at the New Orleans Police Department, he calmly recounted Carrie's past.
It was the same as the injustice most Witches faced in their childhood.
It even resonated with Cordelia.
It's just that Carrie chose to change, while Cordelia still firmly believed in peace.
"If you seek peace through peace, peace will perish!"
"If you seek peace through struggle, peace will survive!"
"Just like right now!"
"Constant retreat, compromise, and mercy without the backing of force will only make others see you as weak, incompetent, and easy to bully!"
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
"WTF?"
"What's going on?"
"What's happening?"
"Ah!"
Accompanied by the sounds of things breaking, the door locks in the detention cells on the first floor of the Police Department were shattered. Next, the members of the Witch Hunting Group held inside suddenly began to float uncontrollably. Then, they lined up as if they were holding numbered tickets, and despite several Police Officers trying to pull them back, they couldn't stop their forced urge to exit.
Jim Rhode was the first in line.
Even... as he was being pulled into the New Orleans Police Department lobby, Jim Rhode saw the Dark Sovereign outside, suspended in mid-air. Five dark orb rotated rapidly around her, forming a barrier that no matter how much the Police Officers fired, they couldn't break through!
"No!"
Jim Rhode saw Carrie's cold, even fiery gaze directed at him. Snapping back to his senses, he grabbed a Police Officer. "Save me!"
"WTF?"
The grabbed Police Officer was stunned for a moment. Then, seeing himself starting to float, he snapped out of it, cursed, and instinctively slapped Jim Rhode across the face. "Let go of me, you piece of shit!"
Thud!
Jim Rhode cried out in pain and involuntarily let go.
The Police Officer fell to the ground. His backside hurt, but he felt a wave of relief, like a survivor of a disaster.
"shit!"
Kaup, who had already emptied a magazine, looked at the expressionless Carrie in the air. Then he turned to see the line of people flying out of the Police Department and roared at Carrie in the sky, "Damn it, we already caught them!"
As Kaup finished speaking, the Police Officers who had been stationed around the Police Departmentwaiting for Carrie to walk into their trap also stopped firing.
"Save me!"
"Damn it, save me!"
"Useless, a bunch of useless trash!"
"..."
The countless members of the Witch Hunting Group, now taking to the air one by one in a line, roared. They knew what kind of fate awaited them when targeted by a Witch.
But... they wanted to grab someone to take down with them. The Police Officers weren't stupid, though. Fighting crime was a job, but protecting their own lives was personal. Besides, this scene was so magical it was already beyond their jurisdiction.
In mid-air.
Carrie seemed to hear Kaup's roar. She looked down, her cold eyes glowing with magic landing on Kaup. "A legal trial is a form of mercy for them!"
Kaup roared, "You have no right to judge—"
"Then what about them?"
"What?"
"The law has no right, and I have no right. Then what about the Witches they once sent to hell?"
"..."
Carrie said expressionlessly, "Our mercy is a gift to you, yet you perceive our mercy as weakness!"
As she spoke.
Carrie looked at the members of the Witch Hunting Group she had pulled into the air, one by one, wailing and roaring—every single one of them stained with the blood of Witches. She opened her right hand. "In the name of the Dark Sovereign, I offer them as a sacrifice. Coming Home, angry witch spirits!!"
As her words fell.
Boom!
Instantly.
A shrill scream rang out. Kaup and the others couldn't help but look up.
Before their eyes!
Black Profound Fire erupted with a boom, instantly beginning to burn on those several people...