Ch: 325-331
325. Carrie's Wonderful Performance
At this moment, the black mystical fire blazed intensely in the air in front of the police station.
Screams!
Wails!
Even… the vengeful spirits of witches, burned by these witch hunters over so many years, materialized as black mist within the black mystical fire, letting out piercing, ear-splitting laughter amidst their screams.
They were indulging in their revenge.
Using this black witch fire, they consumed the witch hunters who had once sent them to their demise.
Among them, Jim Rhodes received particular attention.
Black mystical fire erupted from beneath Jim Rhodes's feet, and in its flames, Jim Rhodes's soul was dragged out by countless furious witch spirits.
Screams and wails were utterly useless.
In fact, Jim Rhodes even saw his own mother and sister among these enraged witch spirits; he had personally burned them to death.
"Thank you!"
"Thank you."
"Thank you for avenging us!"
Countless evil spirits laughed as they devoured the witch hunters who had once sent them to their fiery deaths, then, transforming back into their former appearances, they thanked Carrie, who was hovering in mid-air with five dark orbs spinning rapidly around her.
At the police station entrance, the dozens of police officers were dumbfounded by the sight.
Carrie's cold face, watching the witch spirits thanking her, showed a slight smile, then her gaze fell upon Copp, who also looked utterly incredulous.
"Well?"
"…"
Copp snapped back to attention and looked at Carrie.
Carrie pointed at the witch spirits, temporarily summoned back from hell by magic and blood vengeance: "These witches were all burned and sent to hell by these people. Now, it is these poor witches who are judging them. Do you think they have the right to judge these people?"
Copp opened his mouth.
In his decades of work, it was the first time he had been asked such a question: Do the dead have the right to judge their perpetrators?
The answer was certainly yes.
But… this was based on the premise that the dead could not seek revenge.
Now?
Copp felt completely out of sorts.
On the rooftop across from the police station.
Locke looked at Carrie, who had made a stunning appearance this time, a smile playing on his lips, and turned to Cordelia, who was equally shocked: "Cordelia, what do you think?"
Cordelia took a long time to recover, the wails of Jim Rhodes and others still echoing in her ears, though they were already exhausted and sounded like a broken gong: "Her magic is no less than that of a Supreme Witch."
"So!"
Cordelia said, then, recovering, looked at Locke with some confusion: "Why do you insist on becoming the Supreme Witch? She is more than capable of becoming the Supreme Witch."
Locke shook his head, gazing at Carrie, filled with pride.
"No, she is not the Supreme Witch."
"What?"
"She is my Dark Overlord."
"…"
Locke chuckled and looked at Cordelia: "I have a connection with witches, and while I hated Professor X in that story, it's undeniable that Professor X taught and nurtured. You are the same, so you need to become the Supreme Witch to protect the future witches of Salem, but I don't need you to be Professor X."
Cordelia seemed to realize something and looked at Carrie, who was nearing the end of her performance: "So… you brought me here to meet our Magneto?"
Once she, Professor X, adopted a policy of appeasement in the future…
Then… this Magneto would appear?
Locke naturally understood Cordelia's words, but he hadn't thought of it that way. However, with a change of thought, Locke smiled: "You could say that, Cordelia. Mercy not backed by a show of strength is weakness, but mercy shown after a display of strength is true mercy."
As he spoke.
Locke watched Carrie, who had completed her judgment and soared into the sky as countless media vehicles rushed to film the process, smiled, and looked at Cordelia: "I look forward to the future of witches, Cordelia."
As his words fell.
Under Cordelia's gaze, Locke silently transformed into Cain the vampire, turned, and like a king of darkness, merged into the receding darkness, which was now giving way to the light.
Instantly.
Locke vanished.
Cordelia stared at the spot where Locke had disappeared, then looked down at the crowds who, hearing the screams cease, had finally dared to open their windows and come out. After a moment of silence, she too turned and left.
At the entrance of the New Orleans Police Department.
By the time countless media swarmed in, the grand performance had already concluded. Only a dozen stunned police officers and the countless piles of ashes at the entrance told the tale of what had transpired there.
Media vehicles arrived one after another, and then, reporters, like zombies unleashed, some still in their pajamas, rushed over with microphones in hand.
Copp and the others quickly snapped back to reality, glanced at the "zombie" media not far away, frowned, and immediately turned to walk back into the police station.
"What now?"
"What do you mean, 'what now'?"
"How do we deal with these reporters?"
"Deal with nothing! Anyone who dares to come in gets detained directly."
Damn it!
They couldn't deal with witches, but surely they could deal with a few dozen reporters?
"Bang!"
After returning to his office, Copp immediately found a bottle of cheap whiskey, opened it, poured a glass, and then gulped down the entire glass of whiskey.
Detective Keno, who had followed him in, was once again dumbfounded.
The next second.
Detective Keno quickly stepped forward, grabbed the bottle of liquor Copp was about to pour a second glass from, and snatched it away: "This has nothing to do with us. They brought it upon themselves!"
New Orleans was originally the city of witches.
Now that real witches had appeared, what was the big deal? As a local, Keno found it hard to accept aliens, but accepting witches was easy.
Especially since her family even had a legend that her grandmother was once a witch.
Now seeing a real witch, and such a powerful one at that, coming out to support the weaker witch community and exact revenge with thunderous force, Keno thought it was a good thing.
Hmm.
A good thing.
But… Copp, hearing Keno's words, paused slightly, then showed a helpless, bitter smile: "Do you think I'm blaming myself for these people's deaths?"
Detective Keno was slightly taken aback: "Then you…"
Copp sighed.
Just as he was about to speak, the office door was once again slammed open with a bang.
A police officer rushed in, flustered: "Boss, over at Lake Riley…"
Copp and Keno looked up.
Half an hour later!
Because it was just six o'clock and traffic wasn't heavy, what would normally be an hour's drive was covered at 120 miles per hour, arriving directly at Lake Riley.
What met their eyes!
Lake Riley's water was completely gone, exposing the riverbed.
What met their eyes!
On the riverbed, densely packed, endless, seemingly covering the entire Lake Riley, stark white bones were instantly exposed.
On those bones, the marks of knives, axes, and fire were clearly visible!
"This…"
Detective Keno's mouth fell open as she looked at the truly horrifying Lake Riley, and those with excellent eyesight even spotted one body, not yet fully decomposed, estimated to be a seventeen-year-old witch.
"Oh my god!"
"Oh my gosh!"
"God!"
The media, chasing after the police cars like gluttons, turned a corner that hadn't been cordoned off by the officers. When countless female reporters saw the densely packed bodies in Lake Riley below, they couldn't help but cover their mouths, letting out various panicked exclamations.
The exposed skeletal riverbed of Lake Riley presented an overwhelmingly powerful visual impact.
Copp took a deep breath and looked at a police officer in charge of overseeing the salvage operation there.
"What happened?"
"It was a witch."
The officer quickly and nervously recounted what had happened.
Just moments ago.
More precisely, less than five minutes after Carrie's performance at the police station entrance, Carrie, carrying immense magic and five dark orbs, descended directly and crashed into Lake Riley.
The enormous commotion immediately woke the few police officers who were guarding the lake, waiting for divers to continue salvage operations after daybreak.
The officers, still sleeping in their dreams, were startled awake by the sudden cannon-like sound.
By the time the officers scrambled to their feet, looked at Lake Riley, and saw Carrie, with her arms outstretched, surrounded by five dark orbs, completely dry, slowly emerging from Lake Riley and then hovering above the lake surface, they couldn't help but swallow their saliva.
Immediately after.
Lake Riley seemed to boil, and an endless black mist rose from the surface, as if it were steaming and bubbling, and the water level visibly dropped at an incredible speed.
In less than three minutes, the vast Lake Riley's water vanished without a trace.
The riverbed, covered with bones, was thus starkly exposed.
Then… the valiant witch looked at them expressionlessly for a few moments, and then flew off into the air once again.
"Oh, right!"
At this point, an officer seemed to remember something and said to Copp: "That witch, before she left, also said something."
Copp frowned: "What did she say?"
"She said…"
"What was it she said?"
"…"
After all, the scene just now had been too shocking; if he had that kind of memory, he wouldn't have been assigned to guard a reservoir here.
After a while.
The officer, racking his brain, suddenly brightened.
"That's right!"
"She said!"
"When the witches' grievances are cleansed, Lake Riley shall return!"
"…"
Copp silently walked to the edge of the dried-up Lake Riley, looked down at the stark white bones below, and once again, sighed deeply.
Detective Keno, standing beside him, looked at Copp as he approached and recalled their conversation in the office earlier: "Were you worried about this place just now?"
"No!"
Copp looked up at the now bright sky: "I was worried about a certain someone who would come today!"
Detective Keno: "…"
Three Hundred and Twenty-Six: The Entering Detective and Dolan
"Someone is coming over today..."
"Who is it?"
Detective Cain frowned, looking at Kaup, whose brows were tightly furrowed beside him.
Kaup wished he could slap himself.
"George!"
"...Isn't George your friend?"
"No!"
Kaup shook his head. "When I boasted that I would definitely hold the Peerless Assassin for him, but failed to do so, he won't be my friend once he lands and finds out."
Detective Cain chuckled, "Then why don't you just call him?"
Kaup pulled out his phone, which had already been dialed a dozen times but received no answer. "You think I haven't? I called the moment that damned Witch flew away, but he was already on the plane."
Keno: "..."
After all, this concerned the Peerless Assassin.
How could George, who swore two years ago that he would catch the Peerless Assassin, remain indifferent upon learning that the Peerless Assassin's accomplice had appeared here?
Kaup was already debating whether he should take a leave of absence and hide for a couple of days.
Compared to his friend, who was about to arrive and would predictably unleash a tirade on him, frankly, the shock brought by the White Bone Lake in front of him paled in comparison.
In fact.
Kaup still didn't know one thing.
Which was.
Today... was also the day the headquarters of the Doran Church in New York planned to come and join the Doran Church of New Orleans to celebrate the grand event together.
Buzz!
New Amsterdam International Airport!
Overhead!
"Ding dong!"
"Dear passengers, our plane is about to land..."
The plane, which came from the earliest five o'clock flight from New York's Kennedy Airport, was currently circling above New Amsterdam International Airport, looking for an angle, and preparing to swiftly touch down on the runway.
After a while.
A thud!
The plane's wheels landed steadily on the runway with a thud in the snow-falling World, and then, rumbling, it began to slow down.
Inside the airport, twelve solemn Doran Crusaders Descendants in black suits, along with two Green Hunters from the Portland Area who came to assist, suddenly opened their eyes.
In the seats behind them.
Gwen, sitting by the window, wearing a pink down jacket and sporting a high ponytail, unbuckled her seatbelt. She looked outside at the falling snow and stretched. Although she had only slept for a few hours and got up at four o'clock to pack, Gwen, not feeling tired at all, happily said, "I'll see Locke soon."
George, sitting next to her, arms crossed, wearing a cartoon eye mask, and looking slightly sleep-deprived, sighed as he listened to his daughter, who hadn't stopped talking about Locke and surprises since getting on the plane.
Just then.
A metallic thud.
Hearing the sound of metal hitting the floor, George's professional instinct, like a tracking radar, snapped his gaze onto a metallic object resembling a screwdriver in the aisle ahead.
A Crusader Descendant in a black suit bent down and picked up the screwdriver from the floor. The moment he retrieved it, he seemed to sense someone watching him and turned around.
Their eyes met.
George narrowed his eyes as he watched the man stand up and look at him.
Years of Police Officer instinct told him that this man was someone with a history, and specifically, a history involving the law.
The man looked at the alerted George and slowly withdrew his gaze.
"Dad?"
"Hmm."
George returned to his senses and looked at Gwen beside him. "What's wrong?"
Gwen looked at the transparent fuzz standing up on her palm, frowned, glanced at the man slowly sitting down, and whispered, "That man... he feels dangerous?"
George glanced at Gwen and said, "Later, I'll have Kaup check him out."
Gwen hummed in acknowledgment. The moment the man turned to look at George just now, Gwensuddenly felt the transparent fuzz on her palm stand on end. Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt like she was being targeted by something, which made her very uncomfortable.
The last time she felt this way was on Long Island.
That was when the killer was chasing her and Locke.
As for when this feeling started appearing?
Gwen thought about it; it seemed to have appeared around the time they went to Long Island.
Soon.
The plane steadily docked at the jet bridge.
Half an hour later.
Twelve Crusader Descendants who had rushed to New Orleans to join the local Doran Church for the grand event, plus two Merlin Hunters, stood in the airport parking lot, looking at each other, gazing left and right.
"Did we come to the wrong place?"
"No way!"
"The timing is perfect, and the location is right."
"Huh?"
"Didn't the local Doran Church say they had arranged cars?"
"Where are the cars?"
"I don't know."
"Call them."
"I am calling."
A Crusader Descendant listened to the dial tone, blinked, and looked confusedly at the others. "No one is answering?"
Hearing this, the others couldn't help but look at their colleague who was on the phone, staring blankly at the confused colleague holding the device.
WTF?
Were they stood up?
What's going on?
"What?"
"Say that again, dammit?"
"Dad, language! Watch your language!"
The twelve Crusader Descendants and the two Merlin Hunters turned around and saw a father and daughter walking out of the airport lobby behind them.
George pushed his luggage with one hand and held the phone with the other, rage surging. He immediately launched into a furious rant at Kaup, who had called him: "I don't care about your Doran Church! I flew all this way on the first flight, and now that I've landed, you tell me you let the Dark Sovereign run away?"
Doran Church?
Dark Sovereign?
The twelve Crusader Descendants instantly became alert.
The Doran Church was them, and the Dark Sovereign was precisely the target the Doran Church in New York had been tracking recently!
How did this person know?
Gwen was speechless hearing her father's loud voice. "Dad, didn't you fail to catch the Peerless Assassin yourself?"
George's rage was instantly extinguished.
The twelve Crusader Descendants exchanged glances, listening to the conversation between Gwenand George nearby. Then, one Crusader Descendant took out his phone and looked at the information he had just found by taking a picture of George.
NYPD chief inspector.
Sworn to bring the Peerless Assassin to justice!
Engaged in a love-hate rivalry with the Peerless Assassin.
George Stacy!
Articles regarding George and the Peerless Assassin immediately popped up.
The few realized the situation, looked at each other, grabbed their luggage, and expressionlessly walked out into the swirling snow.
Cops! Retreat!
Their line of work is filled with justice, but they are naturally incompatible with cops. After all, cops don't know how dangerous their job is; they only know how to chatter!
Gwen watched the fourteen people quietly turn and leave, took out her phone, and quickly snapped a few photos of the retreating Crusader Descendants.
She'd keep the photos and give them to Aunt Beckett later, asking her to help investigate.
Gwen thought to herself.
George had also finished his call over there.
Then... "shit!"
"...Dad."
George apologized for his language, then sighed, "A wasted trip. The Dark Sovereign has already run away."
Gwen shrugged. "No, Locke is still here."
George rolled his eyes. "You're here for Locke. I came because the Peerless Assassin might be here. If I had known Kaup was so useless, I wouldn't have come."
Gwen was speechless. "Dad, that's the Witch. You're just a normal person. You need to face reality. If you couldn't catch her, could Uncle Thornton catch her? Didn't you say Uncle Thornton isn't as good as you?"
George looked at Gwen suspiciously. "What are you trying to say?"
Gwen smiled brightly, her eyes clear. "Dad, look at it this way: if Uncle Thornton manages to catch the Peerless Assassin, wouldn't that make you look really good? You're the Peerless Assassin Capture Expert, aren't you?"
George nodded.
"That makes sense!"
"Right?"
"But I don't believe you."
"Ah."
George let out a cold laugh, looking at Gwen, his 'little padded jacket' who had evolved into a black-hearted, ventilated fishnet cotton garment. "You know what? The way you lie now is exactly like that Wild Boar. Clear eyes—that's the Wild Boar's typical behavior when lying."
Goodfellas.
Even her lying has taken the form of that Wild Boar.
Fortunately.
I still have little Andy.
George sighed, considering this a blessing in disguise.
Gwen couldn't help but smile, opened her mouth, and then paused slightly. "Clear eyes when lying? Is that true?"
George glanced at Gwen. "If you don't believe me, try it yourself sometime."
Gwen opened her mouth.
Just then.
A vehicle marked with the New Orleans Police Department insignia drove over from nearby.
The vehicle stopped steadily.
A Police Officer stepped out of the car and looked at George.
"chief inspector George Stacy?"
"That's me."
"My apologies."
The Police Officer walked over, shook hands with George, apologized for the traffic, and then took the luggage. "Our boss is over at Lake Lyre. He instructed me to take you home first."
"No."
"Huh?"
George shook his head. "Go straight to the scene. It's only been less than three hours; perhaps Dark Sovereign Syndra is still here."
The Police Officer was stunned for a moment, then nodded. "Alright."
"Oh, right."
After getting into the car.
George, sitting in the passenger seat, looked at Gwen in the back seat and said to the driving Police Officer, "I want you to take my daughter to..."
"Which hotel was it?"
"Hilton!"
"Mhm."
George nodded and said, "Take my daughter to the Hilton first."
He didn't want to take Gwen to the scene, lest she interfere with his second round of yelling at Kaup.
However... Gwen hadn't planned on going with George anyway.
Of course.
Normally, Gwen would very much want to go to the scene with George, but right now, Gwen wanted to go to the hotel more, find Locke, and give him a huge surprise.
She wondered what kind of expression Locke would make.
Gwen thought to herself...
Chapter 327: New York Has a Doran Church Too
Soon.
The Police car roared and drove straight out of the airport!
"Eh?"
Sitting in the back seat, Gwen, who had just turned on her phone and was about to ask Locke if he was at the hotel, caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye. She noticed the dozen or so weirdos she had seen on the plane, walking in a neat line along the road outside, carrying bags.
Snow was falling heavily.
"They... don't have a car?"
"Heh!"
George glanced over and chuckled, "Maybe their friends didn't handle things well either and felt too guilty or ashamed to pick them up."
Just like Kaup.
The Peerless Assassin is as cunning as a rat; I don't blame you for not catching him.
But a Syndra?
So what if she's a Witch?
You couldn't even keep hold of one woman?
I despise you!
Hearing the resentment towards Kaup in George's words, Gwen shook her head and changed the subject. Looking at the bags those people were carrying, she asked curiously, "Could those people be here to hunt?"
The Police Officer driving laughed, "Hunting in New Orleans? Unless their prey is witches."
Gwen blinked, listening to the Police Officer.
"Witches?"
"Yes."
The Police Officer smiled, "New Orleans has Witch and Voodoo cultures, mixed with some Vampireand werewolf lore. It's practically the modern capital of the supernatural."
As he spoke...
The Police Officer began to recount New Orleans' Witch and Vampire stories with great enthusiasm, as if he knew them by heart.
Sitting next to him was a chief inspector from the NYPD.
A big shot!
If he could make the man's daughter happy, and the big shot was pleased, he might be able to transfer from New Orleans to a metropolis like New York.
They were both patrol officers, but being one in New York was much better than in New Orleans.
He heard there were fewer Black people there.
"Witch Convocation?"
"Yes."
"On New Year's Eve?"
"Mhm, over at City Park."
Gwen blinked and opened her phone's browser, preparing to do some research.
George turned to look, then curiously pointed at Gwen's hand, "Your hair is standing up again. Are you cold?"
Gwen snapped out of it, looked at the standing hairs, blinked, and smoothed them down. She shook her head, "It was a bit cold when we first came out, but I'm not cold now."
George hummed in response.
Gwen shook her sleeves and tossed her ponytail.
Her hair standing up from time to time... it was quite strange.
Gwen thought to herself, and was soon drawn to an event notice on the web: "December 31st, a once-in-a-century Witch Convocation will be held at New Orleans City Park. All are welcome. Rules: Must dress as a Witch... This is great, Locke and I can go check it out."
The officer said with a smile, "There are many costume shops along the way that rent out specialized Witch outfits."
Gwen looked up, "Really?"
George, sitting in the passenger seat, laughed, "Rent? You came all this way; would that wild boar be willing to just rent you a costume?"
At the thought of coming all this way and potentially gaining nothing, George felt speechless.
He had been impulsive.
Wouldn't it have been better to stay home with his precious daughter?
The "precious daughter" referred to Andy now, not Gwen.
Since Gwen's lies were now all for someone else's sake, George had completely given up the struggle.
As a member of the NYPD's senior management, although he could take his full vacation like other high-ranking officers, he was a career cop at heart, so George only gave himself a few days off before planning to head back to work.
Now look at this.
His precious few days off were being wasted on this wild boar who wasn't even a cop but insisted on solving cases.
When the time came to head back, that wild boar would be taking his cabbage, who had already changed owners, to Canada for a happy skiing trip, while he would have to miserably return to work.
The more George thought about it, the more he felt the urge to turn back to the airport and fly straight to New York.
Motherf*cker!
When I was a son-in-law, I took crap from my father-in-law. Now that I'm that wild boar's future father-in-law, I still have to take crap from him?
What do I even see in him?
Just because he has some stinking money, he thinks he can do whatever he wants?
This isn't right!
No!
Before going back, I have to give Kaup a piece of my mind.
Damn it, he couldn't even keep hold of one woman!
Hearing this, Gwen shook her head, "Dad, Locke's money didn't just blow in with the wind."
George laughed.
"Indeed. If it blew in with the wind, he'd still have to bend over to pick it up; he doesn't even need to do that."
"..."
Gwen listened to George's sour tone and likely sour expression. She opened her mouth to argue but blinked and gave up.
Fine.
Locke's money was indeed easier to get than money blowing in with the wind.
Two lawsuits, and he had directly become a billionaire.
No, wait!
Gwen's eyes lit up, "Dad, Locke earned that money by risking his life."
George: "..."
The first time, the Department of Homeland Security almost tortured a confession out of Locke to frame him as a Terrorists.
The second time, London sent people to assassinate Locke and her.
Fortunately, they failed.
Gwen thought to herself, then smiled, "Dad, how about I treat you to a stay at the Hilton too?"
She had money as well.
Although most of it was in a joint account with Locke—they'd bought that house in Long Island before Christmas, and by the time Christmas rolled around, the value of that Long Island house had already increased by a hundred dollars, which was a huge profit overall.
However, that was money in the joint account.
But Midtown High School had already deposited her scholarship for the next term. Although Gwenplanned to save it and put it into the joint account to eventually buy a home on Manhattan island, she could still afford to treat George to a five-star hotel.
George's heart warmed at those words.
But he still refused.
Coming to New Orleans and not staying with his brother? Staying at a hotel would be ridiculous.
When Hank came to New York, George hadn't let Hank go to a hotel either.
They were brothers; they should stay together, drink beer, burp, and brag!
Seeing George's stance, Gwen smiled and didn't push it. Looking at the scenery getting closer outside the window, she suddenly realized she hadn't confirmed if Locke was at the hotel yet, so she quickly took out her phone to text him.
If she rushed over only to find him gone, it wouldn't be a surprise anymore.
"Ding-dong!"
"Hm?"
In the hotel.
Locke sat on the sofa, sipping his drink. He saw The Message from Gwen and smiled.
"Where are you? I heard it's snowing there."
"Mhm, at the hotel. It is snowing."
Where else would I be?
Locke stood up, glass in hand, and walked to the balcony. Looking outside, he smiled at the blizzard that seemed intent on using its white snow to cover the sins of the nearby Lake Lyre.
He was lying low, waiting for the Witch Convocation in two days.
Once things were settled...
He'd go back to New York, find Gwen, go skiing in Canada, and then return to school to start his pleasant journey of grinding points.
Just then...
The Message whistled.
Locke watched a purple mist flash past him. He turned to see Carrie emerging from the mist, flopping onto the sofa and staring at the ceiling.
Locke chuckled, walked back into the living room to the bar, poured a glass of bourbon, and handed it to the dazed Carrie.
Carrie snapped back to her senses and looked up.
"I don't..."
"When I finished my apprenticeship, Chester gave me this to drink. It's tradition!"
"...Alright."
Hearing that, Carrie took the glass, sniffed it, and then downed the bourbon in one gulp.
The next second.
Carrie's face flushed, and she began to cough.
Locke sat beside her, sipping his drink. After a while, seeing Carrie's face gradually regain a healthy glow, he smiled, "How is it? Feeling much better?"
Carrie was about to shake her head, but then she paused and nodded.
"Is this some kind of folk remedy?"
"No."
Locke shook his head, "It's the alcohol doing its work."
Alcohol could suppress one's thoughts, preventing them from overthinking.
Carrie looked at the bourbon set aside, then at Locke.
Locke shrugged.
Then... seeing Carrie about to go for a third glass, Locke raised an eyebrow and put away the remaining bourbon. "Alcohol is a good thing, but don't get addicted!"
He didn't want his Dark Sovereign to become a drunkard.
With a flushed face, Carrie looked at Locke curiously, "How do you do it?"
Locke smiled, "Do what?"
"Not care?"
"I do care."
Locke looked at Carrie with a serious expression, "I care about every life that respects life. What I don't care about are simply those who don't. Those people are nothing more than filth in the world. If you think of it that way, you'll feel better."
Carrie shook her head, "No, I mean Lake Lyre..."
She hadn't expected at first that Lake Lyre was actually a witch graveyard!
So many... Locke let out an "oh" and said, "I care. If I were a Witch, believe me, it wouldn't have been just those few people who died."
If he were a Witch...
Even the Vatican would explode!
He meant it.
Even if God came, it would be useless. Even if the Ancient One stood in his way, it wouldn't stop him!
He was a player.
And more importantly, he was Destiny.
What was a player's mindset?
While playing with the world, it was: "If I want something to exist, the heavens dare not let it be absent; if I want something gone, the heavens dare not let it remain."
From the beginning until now, no one he wanted dead has been allowed To Live!
But... he wasn't a Witch.
At least, Locke Broughton wasn't a Witch.
Mhm.
However... seeing Carrie, who was a Witch herself, clearly feeling a sense of shared grief looking at the endless remains of witches in Lake Lyre, Locke smiled and said, "The headquarters of the Doran Churchis in New York. Maybe when we go back, you can go check it out. I'll help you."
Carrie looked up at Locke.
The Doran Church... hasn't been wiped out yet?
328. Surprise or Fright?
Locke smiled as Carrie looked up, her eyes first dazed, then burning with renewed anger.
How fresh.
Back then, it wasn't just the New Orleans area that wanted to prosecute Witches; it seemed that, apart from China's sphere of influence, everyone else was holding Witch trials.
"New York..."
Carrie murmured about the Doran Church, then asked, "Where?"
Locke said, "No rush. When we go back, I'll take you there. Seek vengeance for grievances, and repay enmity for hatred."
To put it plainly, the Doran Church was bullying the Salem Witches because they no longer had a My Lord, but it was clear that Carrie intended to stand up for the Salem Witches.
So... facing Carrie and the Doran Church, the question of whom Locke would help was not a question at all.
Locke always helped his own over what was right, and besides, the Doran Church was completely in the wrong regarding the Witches.
You say Witches are guilty, so they are guilty?
Who are you?!
More powerful than the Peerless Assassin?
Locke thought of The Godfather of Doran, who was so arrogant at the NYPD, and sneered.
Just as he was about to speak.
The next second.
Carrie, with her bright eyes, suddenly threw herself into his arms and burst into tears.
Locke was slightly startled. Seeing Carrie crying not for herself, but for the piles of bones in Lake Lyre, crying so sadly, he couldn't help but sigh.
Ding dong!
"Huh?"
Locke looked at Carrie, who was crying in his arms, took out his phone, and smiled at Gwen's latest text message. He composed a reply, sent it, put his phone away, and looked at the sad Carrie.
Those who bring trouble upon themselves cannot live.
Doran Church, prepare your necks. For the sake of my Dark Sovereign no longer being sad, you might as well die.
Locke watched Carrie sobbing in his arms, comforting her while thinking these thoughts.
At this moment, after getting off the plane, the twelve originally miserable Crusader Descendants of the Doran Church, plus two Merlin Hunters, were no longer walking but had finally found a large van that could fit all fourteen of them at once.
"Damn it."
One of the Crusader Descendants loosened his tie, brushed off the snowflakes inside, and grumbled, "What's wrong with the local Doran Church? They sent twelve telegrams inviting us, and now we've come to join the grand event, but there's not a soul in sight?"
"Maybe something happened."
"?"
Several Crusader Descendants looked at their companion, who was holding a phone.
The companion flipped the phone over.
Before their eyes.
A New Orleans media outlet had already published the first news report online, complete with text, pictures, and even illustrations.
The illustrations were very clear.
The dozens of piles of ashes burning outside the Police Department were very conspicuous.
"Dark Sovereign!"
Several Crusader Descendants exchanged glances: "The local Doran Church was wiped out by the Dark Sovereign?"
This... "Impossible!"
"The Salem Dimension has been destroyed."
"Right."
"The Dark Sovereign definitely doesn't believe in the Salem Dimension."
"Then..."
"How could a Dark Witch who doesn't believe in the Salem Dimension help the Salem Dimension?"
"This..."
Several Crusader Descendants fell silent.
Dimensions are incompatible with each other, especially those of the same attribute. For example, followers of the Dark Dimension are incompatible with followers of the Hell Dimension.
After all, the Earth is only so big, and everyone wants to monopolize it, so why would they help for no reason?
Especially the Salem Witches.
Since their Lord was still alive, when they carried out the great trial on Salem, for example, the Witches who believed in Grimm did not come out to help, which is the same principle.
But now?
Just then.
One of the Crusader Descendants suddenly looked up, and then his short hair bristled like a hedgehog, each strand standing on end. He then let out a hiss like a cat encountering an enemy.
"Ha?"
Several Crusader Descendants looked at their companion, who was startled like a cat, with his fur standing on end.
"This is..."
A Crusader Descendant frowned, looking at his companion's reaction: "Where is it coming from?"
This companion, who bristled like a cat, had the ability to sense any malice, and even pinpoint where this malice was coming from, a BUG-like ability.
But... the person resumed his hunched posture, sat back down, slightly stunned, and looked up, staring at the roof of the van.
After a long while.
The Crusader Descendant was startled, then came back to his senses and looked at his companions: "From the sky..."
"What?"
"Malice is coming from the sky. I just saw it; there seemed to be an eye in the sky, open, looking at me coldly, as if it was judging!"
"..."
Malice from the sky?
Heaven's will to kill them?
How could that be?
The eleven Crusader Descendants looked at each other.
Sitting in the passenger seat, a Crusader Descendant with his arms crossed took off his sunglasses and said, "Our ancestors could even kill the Salem Dimension; what can another dimension do? It will only make us more glorious!"
They could even far surpass their ancestors, not only destroying a dimension but even usurping and seizing that dimensional space.
"Go directly to Lake Lyre."
The Crusader Descendant, who seemed to be the leader, directly told his driving companion, "No matter what happened to the local Doran Church, don't forget, this time, Doran Churches from all over the Federation have come. Remember our mission this time: kill these damned Salem remnants!"
"Yes!"
"Burn them!"
"Judge them with fire!"
A single sentence made the other Crusader Descendants forget their companion's earlier warning. Clenching their fists, they resumed their fanatical expressions and roared.
The sound was so loud.
That George, in the police car that had just dropped off Gwen and was heading towards Lake Lyre, frowned at the three-meter-long van, which sounded like a concert hall.
Don't they check for overloading here in New Orleans?
Hilton Hotel.
Entrance.
Gwen smiled at the real-time location Locke sent her, put her phone away, and then pushed her luggage into the hotel.
Hotel reception.
The beautiful blonde The Handmaiden at the front desk looked at Gwen, who had entered after walking through the revolving door, with a hint of admiration.
Are the guests checking in these days all this high quality? It seems that the only one who could rival this woman is probably the woman who checked into Presidential Suite 3808 a few days ago.
Just as the blonde The Handmaiden was thinking this.
Gwen walked over with her luggage: "Hello."
The blonde receptionist came back to her senses: "Hello, do you need to check in?"
Gwen waved her hand: "No, I'm looking for someone."
The blonde receptionist smiled: "Of course, what's the name?"
"Locke Broughton."
"..."
The blonde receptionist was slightly startled, then looked at the computer in front of her, performed a few operations, and confirmed that it was indeed the guest staying in 3808. She looked up and said, "Mr. Broughton's Room is 3808."
Gwen said, "I know. I wanted to ask if you could give me a key?"
The blonde receptionist heard this request: "This..."
"I'm his girlfriend."
"Hmm?"
Gwen thought for a moment, took out the proof of her and Locke's joint bank account from her bag, along with her driver's license, and handed them to the blonde receptionist. She explained her idea of giving her boyfriend a surprise, then clasped her hands together, looking at the blonde receptionist pleadingly: "I left home at four o'clock, waited at the airport for a long time before getting on the plane, and finally made it here. If you call him, my surprise will be completely ruined."
The blonde receptionist looked at the joint bank account statement, then at Gwen's driver's license, and listening to Gwen's words, she pursed her lips: "Okay, Ms. Stacy, please wait."
Gwen was overjoyed: "Thank you."
The blonde receptionist smiled.
Goodfellas.
It turns out that handsome guy in 3808 is a scumbag. I knew it, rich men are all scumbags, especially men who spend two thousand U.S. dollars for one night, clearly having such a beautiful and gentle girlfriend, yet bringing another girl to stay at the hotel.
My boyfriend is still the best.
The blonde receptionist thought of her boyfriend, who stayed at home, practiced boxing every day, and was so poor that she had to work eight jobs to barely make ends meet, and she thought so in her heart.
After a while.
The blonde receptionist duplicated a temporary Room card for 3808 and handed it to Gwen: "Ms. Stacy."
Gwen took the Room card, looked at the blonde receptionist with some excitement, glanced at her name tag, and gave a big smile: "Thank you... Dee, I'm Gwen!"
Dee shook her hand and smiled: "Dee!"
Gwen put away the Room card, exchanged contact information with her new friend Dee, and then pushed her luggage towards the elevator.
Before coming, Gwen's biggest concern was that the hotel wouldn't cooperate with her, after all, it was a five-star hotel with excellent security measures.
Fortunately... it worked.
Soon.
Thirty-eighth floor.
"Ding!"
"3808!"
Gwen walked out of the elevator, saw the arrow on the wall, and her eyes lit up as she looked for Locke's Room. Seeing the arrow, she turned left directly.
This is it.
Gwen stopped at the door of Room 3808, a joyful smile on her face, imagining Locke's expression when he opened the door, and prepared to knock.
Instantly.
The moment Gwen raised her hand to place the Room card on the lock, her transparent fine hairs on her wrist suddenly bristled, standing perfectly upright from their previously flattened state.
"What's going on?"
The door opened.
Gwen looked at the bristling hairs on her wrist, then looked up into the Room.
On the living Room sofa.
Locke embracing Carrie.
Stunned!
329. I Hate Surprises
What the fuck?
My God!
What am I seeing?
Looking at the scene in the Room where Locke was holding Carrie on the sofa, Gwen felt her blood pressure spike and really wanted to curse out loud!
Could it be... everything Kem said was true, and the one I should be wary of isn't Zhao Helen, but Carrie?
*Hiss!*
"Gwen?"
The moment the door opened...
No.
Locke had sensed that familiar presence at the door the moment Gwen was about to open it. When the door swung open and he turned to look, he was also a bit incredulous.
The next second.
Locke watched Gwen's expression shift rapidly from anticipation to rising anger, and then to extreme disappointment. Snapping back to his senses, he instantly understood what was going on.
Gwen recovered from her extreme disappointment.
She turned around.
Preparing to leave.
She was a very proud person.
Locke raised an eyebrow and hurriedly said, "Don't say anything, close the door. Carrie just fell asleep."
"WTF?"
Gwen turned back around, her angry expression reclaiming the high ground once more.
What?
You want me to close the door too?
How hateful!
Gwen couldn't take it anymore, but the moment she opened her mouth...
Locke made a shushing gesture. He pointed to the tissues on the coffee table—not a huge amount, but not a small amount either—that he had just used to help wipe away Carrie's tears, and then pointed to the red-eyed Carrie in his arms.
Several question marks popped up over Gwen's head.
However... seeing that Carrie had clearly been crying, Gwen's reason suppressed her anger. She walked over, set down her luggage, and watched Locke as he stood up and carried Carrie toward the bedroom.
In the Room.
Locke carried Carrie back to her Room, placed her on the bed, and tucked her in. Then, he took Gwen's hand and walked back out of the Room.
It seems I overthought things.
Gwen suddenly realized this.
But... "What happened?"
Gwen went into Locke's bedroom. Seeing that it was kept just as tidy as his bedroom in the Starlight Tower, without a single strand of Carrie's hair to be found, she sat on the bed. She looked at Locke as he walked in from outside carrying a wine glass and asked curiously, "Why was Carrie crying?"
Locke shrugged. "Still over her friend's death."
It was all because of Anila Katz's death.
However, while Anila Katz was the source, the crying was entirely because of what happened last night. Besides the sorrow of losing one's own kind, there was also instinct.
Taking a life is always unpleasant.
Just like how a person who has never killed before will vomit after doing so, it's an instinct that can't be controlled.
After Locke finished speaking, he looked at Gwen curiously. "Why are you here?"
Gwen opened her mouth to speak.
The next second.
Locke thought back to what just happened and looked at Gwen with a smile. "By the way, Gwen, just now... were you jealous?"
"Huh?"
"When you just walked in, did you think Carrie and I..."
"No!"
"Hmm?"
Gwen shook her head and flatly denied it. "Why would I be jealous? No, impossible, you saw wrong."
Locke was a bit suspicious. "Really?"
Gwen's eyes were clear as she looked at Locke. "I trust you, Locke!"
Locke: "..."
Clear eyes, telling a lie.
That's my trademark; how did you manage to steal it?
Locke looked at Gwen's expression and mentally complained a bit. He embraced Gwen, smelling the unique scent on her large ponytail. "Really? I don't believe it, unless..."
Gwen was just about to speak.
Then.
A cry of surprise!
It was another standard hour.
Gwen, her face flushed, walked out of the bathroom in her pajamas. She turned around to look at Locke, who followed her out, and then gave his arm a playful, make-believe bite. "You bad thing!"
How hateful.
She had intended to give Locke a surprise, but the scene when she opened the door was like a lightning strike, shocking all the words she had prepared right out of her head.
However... Gwen said, "That's the first time I've ever seen Carrie cry."
After all, at school, when Carrie wasn't talking, her face was icy, like an iceberg. It was hard to imagine what an iceberg looked like when it was crying.
Hearing this, Locke said with a smile, "You're acting strange, Gwen."
Gwen gave Locke a side-eye and waved him away while tidying the somewhat messy bedsheets. She was already able to ignore the damp wet spots on the sheets.
*Thump.*
Gwen pulled the sheets off and tossed them directly at Locke behind her. "Put these in the laundry basket. We'll have the hotel replace them later."
Locke held the sheets, a brilliant smile on his face. "I love this surprise, Gwen!"
Gwen stopped in her tracks, turned around, and glared at Locke. "Go away!"
I don't like this surprise.
At the thought of how that surprise had almost turned into a shock earlier, Gwen made up her mind: she would never play the surprise game again.
It didn't suit her.
Soon.
Having not slept all night and having been impacted by the scene at Lake Lyre, Carrie, who had cried for a long time, finally woke up.
With her eyes still red, Carrie tidied her hair and walked out of her bedroom. Seeing Gwen sitting in the living Room, she was momentarily stunned, then said with a look of pleasant surprise, "Gwen, why are you here?"
Gwen stood up and gave Carrie a hug. "Are you feeling better?"
Gwen saw Carrie's genuine look of surprise, which completely dispelled the last bit of suspicion in her heart.
After all... if something were really going on between Carrie and Locke, then Carrie's expression should have been one of shock, not pleasant surprise.
I'm never doing the sudden surprise thing again.
Gwen thought of the scene after she opened the door with lingering fear, repeating the thought in her mind once more. Then, she looked at Carrie with a smile. "I heard the suspect has already been brought to justice by the Dark Sovereign."
Carrie was slightly stunned.
The Dark Sovereign?
Wasn't that her?
Sitting on the sofa, Locke looked at the news that had just broken on his phone. He recounted the news to Carrie and then changed the subject, seemingly having figured out why Gwen was here.
"Did George not come?"
"Dad went over to Lake Lyre; Uncle Thornton is there."
As expected.
Locke raised an eyebrow. He should have known. How could George pass up any opportunity to catch him?
If a notice of sin appeared in Antarctica, Locke had no doubt that George would immediately set off for the South Pole.
"Eh?"
"Antarctica?"
Locke's eyes lit up. He felt like he could actually do that—just drop a notice in Antarctica and tell George. That way... George would go to Antarctica.
As everyone knows, Antarctica is very cold with many icebergs; it's a perfect place for seclusion.
Note that down.
As a backup plan.
Thinking this, Locke put his phone away. "Let's go. Let's go down and eat. You must be hungry."
Gwen and Carrie nodded in unison.
Carrie was hungry because she hadn't slept all night and had been crying.
Gwen was hungry because she had caught an early flight and then just exercised for half an hour, sweating and losing fluids.
Locke stood up, put on his coat, and looked at Gwen. "Kaup introduced us to several good restaurants. Let's go."
Gwen's sudden arrival would make his plan for two days from now a bit troublesome.
But... Gwen coming all this way to give him a surprise was something to be happy about. Locke was very happy.
As for the Witch Convocation in two days?
If it's a hassle, then it's a hassle.
It's not like he hadn't encountered trouble before; it was no big deal.
*Ding!*
The elevator doors opened.
The three of them walked out of the elevator.
Gwen, who had her arm around Locke's shoulder, saw something nearby and her eyes lit up. She let go of Locke. "Wait for me a moment."
Locke blinked as he watched Gwen run toward what looked like a hotel hostess not far away.
After a while.
Gwen led the blonde hostess over and introduced her. "Dee, a new friend I just met. Shall we go together, Locke?"
"Of course."
Locke shook hands with the clearly somewhat nervous Dee. "Hello, I'm Locke!"
Carrie also shook hands with Dee. "Carrie!"
Dee gave a dry laugh as she shook hands with Locke and Carrie. She had already heard Gwen mention them when she walked over.
So... this iceberg-like girl was this man's sister.
She had thought it was the other kind of'sister.'
The restaurant they went to wasn't the hotel's restaurant, but one not far from the hotel, just a block away.
In the restaurant.
Gwen watched the crowds passing by the door. "The Witch culture here is indeed very rich."
Dee, who had joined them for the meal, nodded. "This is the birthplace of Witch culture."
"Right."
Gwen thought of the Witch Convocation in two days and said to Dee, "Dee, let's go to the Witch Convocation together in two days."
Carrie, sitting next to her, glanced at Locke.
Locke smiled. "You're talking about that cosplay party in the City Park, right?"
Gwen nodded.
Dee was momentarily stunned and waved her hand. "I can't. I have to work at the hotel that day."
Gwen was a bit disappointed. "I see."
Seeing this, Locke smiled and said, "It's fine. We'll speak with the hotel manager later; he'll agree."
He was a VIP, after all.
What?
If he requested a hotel employee to accompany him throughout, would the hotel risk offending a VIP who spent two thousand dollars a night by saying no?
If they dared say no, he would blacklist the hotel immediately.
Gwen's eyes lit up, and she looked at Dee with a smile. "Problem solved."
Dee opened her mouth to speak, but then she thought of her boyfriend, who had been practicing boxing and hadn't had a chance to relax for several days because of her work schedule. She nodded and gave Gwen a grateful smile. "Thank you."
The corners of Gwen's eyes crinkled. "I should be the one thanking you. I was worried I wouldn't be able to give my boyfriend a surprise."
Even though the surprise had almost turned into a shock.
But... that was just her overthinking; it was still a surprise.
Just then.
The wind chime at the restaurant door rang.
*Ding-a-ling.*
The fine, transparent hairs on the back of Gwen's hand stood up once again.
"Hmm?"
"Locke?"
Chapter 330: Locke's Unscrupulousness
Along with the pleasant sound of wind chimes came a cry filled with three parts surprise, three parts curiosity, three parts confusion, and one part fear.
"Locke?"
Appearing at the door was the new-generation Witch, Zoe Benson.
And... it should be Emma, who successfully resurrected last night... bah!
Madison Montgomery.
However, like Emma, Madison Montgomery was also a Hollywood movie star on the surface.
Zoe and Nan had found the deceased Madison lying in the attic yesterday, and then they quickly took her to Misty, who excelled at bringing the dead back to life.
Not long ago, Madison was resurrected, and her first words were wanting to smoke and then have a meal.
And so.
The trio of Zoe and the others came to this restaurant; then, Zoe sensed a familiar scent, followed it with her eyes, and suddenly saw Locke in his usual suit, dining with three women.
This was the same Locke Broughton who had told her where Madison was hidden and who seemed to have an ambiguous relationship with the headmistress, Cordelia.
Locke also noticed the three people entering, but in the next second, his gaze fell on the back of Gwen's hand.
The transparent peach fuzz standing on end.
He felt like Gwen had just instinctively been startled?
Does Gwen know Zoe?
Locke thought to himself.
When someone called out Locke's name, Gwen looked up instantly, her gaze lingering on Zoe for a moment before falling on the newly resurrected Madison.
"Montgomery?"
"That Hollywood actress who said she was going to school?"
Just as mentioned, Madison was a Hollywood actress, and a somewhat famous one at that; even Deeseemed to know her.
Gwen knew Madison.
Locke's thoughts raced as he stood up and gave the curiously approaching Zoe a smile and a hug: "Hello, we meet again."
Zoe thanked Locke.
After her resurrection, Madison had heard from Zoe about how she was found. Seeing Locke release Zoe from the hug, she smiled and reached out her hand: "Montgomery, Madison Montgomery!"
"Broughton, Locke Broughton."
Locke shook hands with the newly resurrected Madison, then noticed Gwen standing up beside him with an inquiring look. He smiled and introduced Zoe to Gwen: "Zoe Benson, a student at Miss Robichauxs Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies. I met her yesterday when I was looking for a friend."
Gwen gave Locke a surprised look.
If she remembered correctly, Locke seemed to have said he had few friends even in Texas, so how did he have a friend in New Orleans, a place he had never been to?
And... that feeling just now?
Thinking this, Gwen smiled and shook Zoe's hand: "Gwen Stacy, Locke's girlfriend. Nice to meet you."
Zoe shook hands with Gwen. Hearing the introduction and looking at Locke, she was also somewhat surprised.
If this beautiful woman in front of her was his girlfriend, then who was Cordelia to him?
Zoe thought about the scene she saw last night.
Locke walking out of Cordelia's Room, while Cordelia seemed to be pulling up the strap of her nightgown inside.
Wait.
A scumbag?
Zoe was slightly stunned as a word used to describe a man two-timing appeared in her mind.
Locke raised an eyebrow at the look in Zoe's eyes.
After a while.
The original meal for four directly became a meal for seven.
Although the manner of meeting was a bit abrupt, for women, as long as it didn't involve their boyfriends, a few minutes were enough to become quite well-acquainted.
Women in any country are like this.
This place was no exception.
Especially since among these seven people, one was a Hollywood actress who, while not world-famous, was still well-known.
Gwen looked curiously at the long black dresses the three were wearing and looked at Madison: "Madison, so you really left Hollywood to go to school here in New Orleans? But Miss Robichauxs Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies... I don't think I've heard of it."
"Of course."
Madison smiled at Gwen: "Because Miss Robichauxs Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies is invitation-only, not based on an examination system."
Gwen nodded: "An elite private university?"
Such universities are very common in the U.S.
For example, Ranch University, which only recruits ten people a year, where students herd cattle, ride horses, and milk cows. If it were in China, such an unproductive university would likely be torn apart by parents.
But... here in the U.S., such a somewhat unconventional university, when reported in China, would become a symbol of an aristocratic private university.
"No."
"Huh?"
Madison winked at Gwen: "Miss Robichauxs Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies is the only Witch Academy in the Federation."
Gwen blinked.
Is this a joke?
Locke smiled from the side and looked toward Madison; he was drinking something in his hand that was transparent like mineral water. "How are you feeling?"
He hadn't originally intended to get involved in Madison's resurrection.
But, who told her to be Emma.
Madison looked at Locke, seemingly noticing the difference in the mineral water in Locke's glass, and laughed: "If you give me a glass, I'll tell you."
Locke smiled and handed over the vodka he had specifically brought to the restaurant in a mineral water bottle.
"Vodka!"
"Just what I wanted."
Madison poured the vodka from the bottle into a glass, then raised the glass and looked at Locke with a smile: "Cheers, and thank you."
Locke looked at the drink in his own glass, raised it, and clinked: "It was nothing."
"If it weren't for you, I'd probably still be wandering in Hell. That place... I feel like even my breath has a strong smell of lava now."
"Only after experiencing death does one understand the preciousness of life."
"True. Cheers!"
"Cheers."
Locke took a large gulp of the vodka in his glass: "So, do you still remember how you went to Hell?"
Madison shook her head: "Blood, so much blood, screaming, and a curse!"
Locke nodded: "Want to know?"
Madison looked at Locke, her expression exquisite and beautiful: "Will you tell me?"
Locke put down his glass, folded his arms, and looked at the three joined witches, while sensing Gwennext to him, who was frowning but not speaking.
He smiled.
"Fiona."
"What?"
"Fiona..."
"It was her?"
Zoe and Nan were slightly stunned, finding the name Locke spoke hard to believe.
"Why?"
Zoe shook her head, snapped out of it, and looked at Locke, saying with some confusion: "Why would Fiona do that?"
Locke shrugged and glanced at Madison: "Fiona is the Supreme Witch. Once a new Supreme Witch is chosen, her power and energy will be stripped away. Do you think Fiona would sit by and let that happen?"
"But she's teaching..."
"If she didn't come back, how would she know which of you would become the Supreme Witch?"
"..."
Locke looked at Madison and said with a smile: "So, if you go back now, guess what—will Fiona send you to Hell again?"
Madison: "..."
Zoe and Nan looked at each other.
Carrie's expression remained as cold as ever toward outsiders.
As for Dee, she felt like she had stumbled into some kind of evil organization.
Gwen... although Gwen didn't say a word, she was undoubtedly listening intently to the conversation. However, the more she heard, the greater the suspicion in her heart grew.
Miss Robichauxs Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies?
Witch Academy?
Supreme Witch?
Hell?
Resurrection?
WTF?
Just then.
Zoe's phone rang.
After a moment.
Zoe hung up the phone, looked at Nan and Madison, and then He said to Locke: "Cordelia wants us to go back."
Locke raised his glass: "You can tell Cordelia about this. She cares about you, unlike Fiona."
Zoe frowned.
"By the way."
"What?"
"Have you thought of an answer for when Fiona asks where you were last night instead of being in the dormitory?"
"We..."
"I've thought of one for you."
"Huh?"
Locke smiled and pointed to Dee, who was standing by with a confused look and starting to have second thoughts, then looked at Zoe: "A ready-made reason."
Dee blinked.
Zoe and Madison looked at Dee.
They didn't understand.
Nan, who had just closed her eyes, opened them and said, "She is about to awaken."
Nan was also a Witch, and naturally had her own specialty in awakening. She knew what others liked and thought, and had a certain level of precognition; she was a prophetic Witch.
After a while.
After Zoe, Madison, and the others exchanged phone numbers and contact information, they left the restaurant with a bewildered Dylan.
Soon.
Locke also paid the bill and returned to the hotel with Carrie and Gwen.
*Thud!*
The bedroom sheets had already been changed.
Locke flopped onto the bed and rolled over: "So tired."
It clearly wasn't his business, but for the sake of the mission, he had put in his best effort.
After all, the requirement for mission settlement was that the witches needed a good environment to develop, and a Supreme Witch who could take the lead and shield them from the elements was indispensable.
Locke had brought in Cordelia.
But... while external factors were settled, internal unstable factors also needed to be resolved.
Like Fiona, who was unwilling to leave the stage.
Frankly speaking, choosing Fiona would actually be the easiest move, but Fiona had proven with her actions that she only wanted the title of Supreme Witch for herself. She had no sense of the big picture at all; she might be powerful, but she couldn't become a Guardian.
Besides.
With someone young and beautiful available, why choose an old fossil?
Although Locke wasn't lecherous.
He... knew how to appreciate beauty.
Just then.
*Thump.*
Gwen took off her shoes, closed the door, and sat directly on Locke, lowering her head so her large ponytail brushed against Locke's forehead.
Looking at Gwen, who was pinning him down and eyeing him like a hawk, Locke gave a slight smile: "What's wrong?"
Gwen's expression was grave and very serious: "It's time you came clean, Locke Broughton!"
Locke: "..."
331. Mutual Exposure
On the spacious bed.
Locke lay on it.
Gwen was on top, looking down at him, their eyes locked. Her expression was serious and stern, as if conveying a message: either confess or die.
Locke's lips curved slightly upwards.
"Confess what?"
"Are you going to tell me or not?"
Gwen showed her silver teeth, revealing her two adorable fangs, "You said you'd be completely open with me."
Locke clasped his hands behind his head. "My dear, I am completely open with you. That is my promise."
As a person,
the most important thing is to be flexible.
George's simple lifestyle didn't quite suit him. After all, George was the type who was content with a little wealth, while Locke was the type with a universe in his heart.
And!
Gwen wasn't some naive damsel. Besides, witches and vampires weren't exactly secrets anymore; Gwen had even seen a few vampires with her own eyes.
Moreover,
Locke thought about the sudden fuzz that had bristled on the back of Gwen's hand after Zoe and the others came in. He had a strange sense of déjà vu, as if he'd seen it somewhere before.
Then... Locke thought of something.
Finally, Locke recalled Cordelia's approach after the Coven story in the original plot. If he had hidden it then, this wouldn't have been the best choice.
It was still the same old saying.
Sometimes, one lie requires countless more lies to cover it up.
He preferred to tell the truth.
The most crucial point:
Locke never fought a battle unprepared.
This was also why Locke hadn't tried to stop Madison when she told Gwen that their school was actually a witch academy.
After all, last night, when he contacted Zoe and told her where to find Madison, he had already prepared to use "Locke Broughton" to interact with them.
Or rather,
to interact with them using Locke Broughton's other identity as a student. That identity was perfectly reasonable to use here!
Gwen glanced down, feeling the movement from a certain part of Locke's body. She tossed her ponytail, her face cold, and prepared to leave.
If he wouldn't tell her, then he wouldn't.
She could find out for herself.
Locke chuckled, thrusting his hips. He laughed, "Alright, I'll tell you."
Gwen's small backside landed back down.
Locke raised an eyebrow.
Comfortable!
"Tell me!"
"Clearly, they are witches."
"I know!"
Gwen listened to his words, glaring at the misbehaving Locke beneath her. She gritted her teeth, "From your conversation just now, either you're playing some kind of role-playing game, or you're serious. I'm asking, how could it be? How could you..."
That serious scene just now didn't look like role-playing at all.
After all... even if Locke and Zoe were playing some role-playing game, Madison, that Hollywood star, wouldn't be so bored as to run to New Orleans to play role-playing games.
Locke, who was prepared for this, said, "I've mentioned Agatha to you, haven't I?"
Gwen paused slightly.
Agatha?
"Agatha? Agatha Harkness? Chester's girlfriend?"
"Yes."
"What about her?"
"I told you Agatha was a witch, didn't I?"
"..."
Gwen recalled something Locke had said once while they were eating at Chester's restaurant. She blinked, "I thought you were saying..."
She thought Locke was joking at the time.
After all, that was in 2004, before Peerless Assassin was on TV, before Augusta went there, and before vampires even appeared.
Moreover, at that time, they had probably only just started dating, and they talked about many things. Gwen even remembered Locke saying he had seen demons, succubi, and even aliens in Texas.
Locke thrust his hips.
A gasp.
After a while,
the tables turned!
Locke flipped over, looking at Gwen, who was now pinned beneath him. He smiled, "See, my dear, I'm completely open with you. I told you, you just didn't believe me."
Gwen blinked.
Is... that how it was?
Locke smiled faintly.
Yes.
He always liked to plan ahead. Let alone witches, even if he met a demon in the future, if Gwen saw it, he could say he had told her before.
Texas was a good place.
It was just like Conan's favorite line when faced with Ran Mouri's doubts:
"My dad taught me when we were in Hawaii."
Locke was the same!
"I met them in Texas."
Texas had simple folk customs. For New Yorkers, Texas was both simple and mysterious. After all, the famous Area 51, and the mysterious UFO research facility, were all in Texas.
So... it was perfectly normal for him to know witches. Let alone witches, as a Texan, it was quite normal to know a few demons and aliens too.
Gwen came back to her senses.
"That's not right."
"What?"
"That Zoe..."
Gwen struggled a few times, trying to regain the upper hand, but it was futile. Lying on the bed, she looked at Locke, who was on top of her. "Zoe seemed a little afraid of you."
Locke shrugged, "That's normal. I'm with the CIA."
Gwen blinked. "What?"
Locke smiled, "I'm with the CIA. I told you that, didn't I?"
Gwen blinked again.
Without a doubt.
He had said that too. After all, Gwen knew that Locke's CIA instructor was Mr. Sheldon. George thought Locke had fallen out with the CIA, but Gwen hadn't told George that Locke had reconciled with the CIA.
Locke looked at Gwen's expression, his smile growing even brighter.
This was why he chose to join the CIA later on. It wasn't just to expand his mission scope to the entire world after graduation; it also provided necessary background support for some of his actions at certain times.
Like now.
It was perfectly normal for a civilian to be afraid of a CIA agent.
Let alone the CIA, even with the NYPD, many New Yorkers would be scared when they saw NYPD officers, just like people in the East would be scared when police uncles came knocking.
This was professional deterrence.
Did they really think everyone in the Federation challenged everything and everyone?
Civilians who dared to do that were either villains or protagonists with cheats.
"No..."
"Alright."
"Huh?"
Gwen was interrupted by Locke's words and paused slightly, subconsciously saying, "That fast?"
Locke's lips twitched. "My dear, I've explained everything clearly. It's your turn."
Gwen's face was flushed, and then hearing his words, she blinked again, her eyes fluttering. "What?"
Locke's expression was also serious and earnest.
"Something's wrong with you!"
"..."
That's not right.
Locke thought about the scene he had just witnessed, the sudden bristling of fur. That should be spider-sense, right?
But... isn't that something only Spider-Man has?
How did Gwen suddenly get it?
And.
Locke had just switched to his witch form, "Witch Locke," and sensed Gwen, but Gwen was just Gwen; he didn't detect any Spider-Alien impersonation.
Gwen was a little confused. "What is it?"
Locke thought for a moment. "Were you bitten by a spider?"
Gwen's eyes widened slightly. "How did you know? Did I tell you? I don't think I did."
Locke was also stunned.
Well, well, well.
She really was bitten by a spider.
But... "When?"
"The day before we went to Long Island, when we went to that revolving restaurant for dinner."
Gwen said, pulling her right hand from Locke's large hand. "See, on the back of my hand. But it's fine now, thankfully, no scar."
Locke touched Gwen's right hand, then looked at her wrist.
By the way, doesn't Spider-Man shoot webs from his wrists?
"Can you shoot?"
"...What?"
"Shoot a web."
"..."
Gwen's trigeminal nerve twitched. "I was bitten by a white spider, I wasn't parasitized. How could I shoot webs?"
Locke found the key point. "A white spider?"
Gwen nodded. "Want to see? I even took a video."
Saying that,
Gwen struggled to turn over, breaking free from Locke's embrace. Then, she moved, pinning Locke beneath her again. Lying in his arms, she took out her phone and opened the video she had recorded before leaving home. "Look."
Locke looked at the video playing on the phone.
A white spider.
No... it should be a white and black spider.
It was big.
But the spider, which looked quite delicate and pretty, lay motionless in a glass terrarium.
"This spider..."
"Isn't it beautiful?"
"Uh, yeah, beautiful."
Locke looked at Gwen's smiling face and nodded with a smile.
Something was off.
The spider that bit and gave Spider-Man his superpowers should have been black, right? So, where did this white spider come from?
Just then,
the phone rang.
Gwen turned her phone, paused slightly, then flipped over and sat on Locke. "It's Dad's call."
She answered.
"Dad!"
Gwen answered the phone, "Are you all done?"
At Lake Riley.
George looked at the countless police officers and medical personnel working busily. He walked to the side. "It might take a while longer. Don't worry about me for lunch; you two eat first."
Gwen laughed, "Dad, we just finished eating."
George: "..."
Very good.
He's not even your husband yet, and you've already forgotten about me.
Don't be angry.
I have Andy.
George closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, and calmed himself down. He smiled, "Alright then, you two be careful."
Gwen hummed, "Okay, Dad."
She hung up the phone.
Locke hugged Gwen, smiling, "George isn't back yet?"
Gwen shook her head. "Dad said... What are you doing?"
Locke wrapped one arm around Gwen, then, using his strong core, lifted Gwen up as if she were a doll. "It's noon, let's take a nap."
Gwen: "..."