CH: 339-346
339. Hill: Overtaking on the Curve
One sentence.
She is the director of S.H.I.E.L.D., not the director of the CIA.
S.H.I.E.L.D. under Hill's leadership would not do anything that harms others without benefiting themselves, nor would they do anything that benefits others but not themselves.
Maria Hill hung up the phone with Hawkeye Barton, then pondered for a moment before taking out her phone and dialing Cordelia's private number.
She and Cordelia had exchanged phone numbers last night when she visited the Witch Academy.
Soon.
The call connected!
Cordelia, who was at Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies, hung up the phone and said to Locke, who had just arrived, "The new S.H.I.E.L.D. says they've caught those twelve people from New York."
Locke listened to her words, looked at Cordelia, and raised an eyebrow.
Yesterday, hadn't Cordelia invited Gwen to come to the academy to experience a witch class if she was interested?
So, after breakfast, Gwen eagerly dragged Locke to the academy.
Gwen had gone to join Zoe and Madison for today's witch class, while Locke and Carrie were chatting in Cordelia's office.
He also inquired about why S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had visited yesterday.
However... Locke already had a general idea; it was nothing more than S.H.I.E.L.D. wanting to connect with Cordelia.
After all, although S.H.I.E.L.D. claimed to govern the entire world, it didn't have the power to back up such a statement.
It was like the United Nations and the five great powers.
The five great powers didn't exist because of the United Nations; rather, the United Nations existed because of the five great powers.
Even now, when Cordelia told him that S.H.I.E.L.D. had captured the twelve people from New York, Locke wasn't surprised at all.
He had already suspected as much when he heard about it from Mr. Nobody at the restaurant that morning.
It's just... "Twelve people?"
Locke frowned, "Two people are still missing?"
Cordelia said, "Ms. Hill also mentioned that those two seem to have returned to Portland, and I already know who they are."
Locke looked up.
"Grimm Hunters."
"Grimm?"
"Yes."
Cordelia explained, "Grimm Hunters, like Witch Hunters, claim to be the embodiment of justice, maintaining fairness and order in nature, punishing evil, and playing a vital role in global stability."
"Another organization that wants to destroy what it can't have, I suppose."
"No, Grimm Hunters, from a certain perspective, are also Grimm creatures, and unlike us Salem Witches, who are a single type, Grimm creatures are incredibly diverse."
Werewolves, who transform whenever they see something red.
Fox spirits.
Goat people.
Bee people.
Lizard people... Locke raised an eyebrow, listening to Cordelia's explanation, and finally realized what felt familiar: "Grimm's Fairy Tales?"
Cordelia nodded, "You could say that, but the real Grimm isn't a fairy tale."
Salem Witches are a single type, so they have a collective name: Witches.
And Grimm?
The Grimm dimension can provide so much energy and create so many extraordinary life forms that it's impossible to categorize them by ability.
Whether they are werewolves or fox spirits transformed by Grimm power, they are all collectively referred to as Grimm creatures.
Since they are creatures, there is a food chain, and on this chain, they naturally follow the rules of the animal kingdom: survival of the fittest.
Cordelia said, "However, Grimm creatures usually operate in the Portland area or in Europe, so we don't interact with them very often."
Locke nodded.
Just then.
Ding dong!
Cordelia looked at an address sent to her phone and then at Locke: "Do we need to go?"
Locke spread his hands and said, "It's your business; you decide.
I introduced you to the CIA simply because I wanted witches to have a visible backing.
Whether you want to interact with S.H.I.E.L.D. is your decision, but interacting with them isn't necessarily a bad thing."
He was merely completing a mission.
After the mission was completed, if the Salem Witches were wiped out the next second, it would have nothing to do with Locke.
However, if the plan went smoothly, this would likely never happen.
Besides, Hydra certainly wouldn't be eager to contact the witches.
Unless... Hydra was tired of living.
After all, the witches' abilities were diverse, and what if a witch shook hands with a Hydra agent and suddenly asked, "Why do you say Hail Hydra?" That would be quite amusing.
Cordelia nodded, "The descendants of the Crusaders. Their ancestors almost completely wiped out our Salem Witch tribe."
She was going.
Locke thought for a moment, then looked at Carrie, "You go too."
Carrie, who was sitting quietly nearby, reading a history book about Salem Witches that Cordelia had found, looked up and blinked.
Locke said, "Judgment!"
Carrie frowned, then, hearing Cordelia say that the witch blood on the hands of the Crusader descendants was no less than that of those witch hunters, she nodded without hesitation: "Okay."
Cordelia seemed to realize that Gwen didn't know about Locke's multiple identities besides being a CIA agent.
After Carrie agreed, she thought for a moment and looked at Locke: "If Gwen asks..."
Locke waved his hand, "Don't worry, Gwen won't find out."
When Locke arrived that morning, he thought Gwen would ask him what Mr. Nobody had said, but all the way, Gwen sat in the passenger seat, gesticulating at her notebook.
Locke glanced at it, and it was already filled with no less than fifty questions about witches.
Gwen planned to have a witch-version of a rapid-fire Q&A after class.
She even had a voice recorder ready.
Cordelia saw this and didn't say anything more.
Carrie... A brilliant purple light flashed, and in an instant, the Dark Sovereign Syndra appeared.
Cordelia praised, "Excellent disguise."
If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, even she wouldn't have been able to perceive that the cold-faced, cold-hearted Syndra, radiating dark energy, was the same person as Carrie, who, though also cool-tempered, was as gentle as a mountain spring.
Soon.
Cordelia and Carrie left the office.
Locke finished the witch's brew in his cup, then stood up and walked out of the office.
Actually... Locke could have prevented Carrie from going.
But clearly, Maria Hill was hoping that capturing these twelve Crusader descendants might lure out the Dark Sovereign Syndra.
Locke was well aware of Hill's little scheme, but Carrie, who was filled with suppressed anger due to the death of her best friend and the sight of the piles of bones in Lake Lery, needed an outlet.
New York wasn't until the day after tomorrow, so venting her anger on the lives of those twelve Crusader descendants now was quite a good idea.
"Whoosh!"
"Thump!"
At the entrance of a house hidden in the woods in the suburbs outside New Orleans, three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents heard the sound, then quickly reacted and saw two stunning women, each with a distinct style, seemingly emerging from black and purple mist in the blink of an eye.
One was Cordelia, who looked gentle and graceful.
The other was Carrie, who appeared like an ice queen, unapproachable.
"Who is it..."
"Stand down!"
Maria Hill, who was on the phone in the small wooden house's hallway, her eyes lit up.
She was wondering when Cordelia would arrive and if the Dark Sovereign would come.
Happiness came too suddenly.
Hill gestured to the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents on perimeter duty, then walked over and shook Cordelia's hand: "Cordelia, we meet again."
As for their relationship...
The first time is unfamiliar, the second time is familiar.
Hill felt that even though Mr. Nobody had come first, she could totally use her own advantages to come from behind and build a good relationship with the dean of the Witch Academy.
After all, she was a woman, and Cordelia was also a woman.
Even... the Dark Sovereign was also a woman.
"Ms. Syndra..."
The moment Carrie appeared, Hill knew her identity, as Syndra, like the Peerless Assassin, didn't hide her appearance.
Carrie looked at the friendly hand extended towards her with a smile, hesitated for a moment, but still shook Hill's hand, then said coldly, "Where are the people?"
Hill smiled, "They're inside, please."
"No need."
"Hm?"
Hill was slightly stunned, then shocked.
Carrie spread her hands, and in an instant, accompanied by the surging, endless magic, three dark orbs rapidly condensed and revolved around her, slowly rising into the air.
With a bang.
The door of the nearby wooden house was directly torn open, and then, the twelve Crusader descendants, tied to small wooden stools with their mouths stuffed with rags, walked out of the house in a line.
The surrounding S.H.I.E.L.D. agents watched this scene, finding it incredibly magical.
After the twelve Crusader descendants came out, they looked at Carrie, who was cold-faced and making them line up in mid-air, with various expressions on their faces.
Anger, curses, panic, shock, pleading...
"Boom!"
Carrie slowly flipped her right hand, and with a rumble, a mysterious black witch's fire appeared.
The next second.
Bang!
The witch's fire directly split into twelve clusters, thrown onto the twelve Crusader descendants.
The fallen witch's fire began to search for the innocent witches who had been sent to hell by their targets, allowing them to rise up and seek revenge for their grievances.
"They didn't harm any white witch."
After Carrie landed, she looked at the shocked Hill and said in a deep voice, "Then, the witch's fire will not ignite them, nor will it harm them in the slightest."
As soon as the words fell!
Screams instantly erupted!
340. Highest-Priority Case
Twelve screams rang out one after another, while twisted specters of witches coalesced from thick black mist above the twelve suspended chairs.
Clearly.
Every one of these so-called Crusader Descendants had blood on their hands.
The blood of innocent witches.
Black fire burned beneath the sun without the slightest warmth; if not for the shrieks and wails, no one would even notice it.
But Locke saw.
In a fourth-floor hall of the Witch Academy, Locke stood at a floor-to-ceiling window, watching the black flames rise beyond the city walls before turning away.
If S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted to hunt the Dark Sovereign, let them.
Locke had never treated Carrie as a vassal; she was his little sister. Whatever she wanted to do, he wouldn't stop her—he'd only step in when she hit a wall.
A moment later.
Just as he looked away, the door behind him opened.
Gwen, who had shed her down jacket for a purple turtleneck thanks to the warm Room, walked in clutching a notebook. "Hey, where's Cordelia?"
Locke turned. "She had something on and just stepped out."
"Carrie?"
"Out with a friend."
"A friend?"
Gwen hugged Locke. "I didn't even know Carrie had friends here."
Locke shrugged. "Don't worry, neither did I."
Gwen laughed.
Locke let the subject drop. "So, how's Witch class?"
Gwen shook her head. "Not great. Feels like our old classes—rote memorization."
Exactly.
Today's lessons were Witch Potions and Witch Incantations.
Every herb's name in the Salem Witches' lexicon had to be memorized.
What each herb looked like—memorized.
Every potion formula—memorized.
Incantations were even worse.
Gwen pondered. "Potions is like cramming for AP Chem, and Incantations feels like English class."
Locke smirked. "What did you expect?"
Gwen shrugged. "I don't know—maybe Hollywood magic. If I didn't know better, I'd swear this place was scamming us into thinking we're witches."
But she understood why.
During Incantations they'd been told: Salem, the source of the witches' power, was asleep; countless spells no longer worked.
What they were learning were the incantations re-verified over the years—every high-power spell was offline.
So… Gwen shook her head. "I used to envy Zoe and the others, but now I pity them."
Locke looked at her, curious. "Pity?"
Gwen nodded. She'd pictured witches soaring through the skies like the Dark Sovereign Syndra.
She couldn't grasp why ordinary mortals kept hunting them.
Now?
She got it.
Zoe and her kind had wondrous powers, but those gifts were capped. A well-maintained M4 could protect you; one that jammed after a single shot only invited trouble.
Locke chuckled at her analogy.
She wasn't wrong—but once tomorrow passed and 2006 arrived, life for the Salem Witches would flip on its head.
Locke thought of that and said to Gwen, "Shall we head out?"
Gwen hesitated. "Shouldn't we wait for Cordelia? I wanted to thank her."
Locke smiled. "If you like, but are you sure George won't mind?"
Gwen winked. "As long as I don't tattle to Mom, George would be thrilled if I never called him again."
Locke recalled Kaup mentioning strip-club drinks with George and nodded, catching her drift.
Wait—this was perfect. Track down George, snap a few photos on his phone, and once back in New York, if George growled, anonymously mail the shots to Helen?
Locke's brows rose.
A delicious plan.
"Achoo!"
"Bless you."
Still in yesterday's clothes, George sneezed violently, then glanced at Kaup before looking at two fallen Officers on the ground nearby.
They were at St. Ignatius Hospital. Staff had called it in this morning—two night-patrol Officers murdered.
An infant had also vanished.
A major incident.
Dead cops and a missing baby forced Kaup—who'd planned to rest while Lake Lyre was cleared—to rush from the strip club, dragging George from last night's welcome party straight to the scene.
After all, George came from New York, a major metropolis; his experience was bound to be more extensive.
In any abduction or missing-person case, the golden window is seventy-two hours. The longer the time, the lower the chance of getting the victim back.
But… George, looking at Kaup's expectant face, wanted to punch him.
I'm here to catch the Peerless Assassin, yet the moment I arrived, I spent the whole afternoon digging the river with Kaup, then got dragged to a strip show. Just as I was sleeping like a baby—bam—he hauls me here.
Maybe I should've gone home earlier.
That's what George thought, but since he was already here—and the case involved the deaths of two fellow officers—it mattered.
When Officers die, the case becomes top priority. Even the Dark Witch investigation has to step aside; every resource is diverted here first.
"Kaup!"
Detective Keno strode over and thrust a file at him. "Data on the missing infant."
Kaup took it.
George beside him leaned in.
Yet the file was unremarkable. One glance and seasoned cops Kaup and George reached the same conclusion: this wasn't a kidnapping motivated by the baby's parents.
Which left only one possibility.
A psycho did it.
Kaup looked up, pointing around the hospital lobby. "Go through every camera."
"Can't."
Detective Keno shook his head. "Last night every hospital camera, including those at the entrance, went dead. That's why dispatch sent those two Officers to check."
Normally, if cameras near places like hospitals or schools fail, the control center repairs and verifies them immediately.
"Investigate."
Kaup said flatly, "It's a hospital; outside you've got homeless men everywhere."
Detective Keno nodded.
Watching Keno walk off, Kaup told George, "If this were New York, satellite playback would already be running."
George laughed and looked up. "Only if a satellite just happened to be overhead…"
Kaup stared at the stalled George. "Keep talking."
George's eyes slid sideways toward Kaup. "Hold on, I'll make a call."
With that, George pulled out his phone, tapped twice, and dialed.
Moments later—
"Senior Superintendent Stacy!"
Back in New York, Ms. Victoria Hand was using a satellite to watch the black-fire barbecue show outside New Orleans when her phone rang. Curious, she answered, "Anything the NYPD needs my help with?"
George stepped aside and asked, "Was your satellite over New Orleans last night?"
Victoria Hand glanced at the satellite feed on the big screen, blinked, wondering whether their s.h.i.e.l.d. satellite had been spotted, and cautiously asked, "…What for?"
"If it was, I'd like a favor."
George, hearing her vague reply, didn't press it; he simply told her what had happened.
It was the Department of Homeland Security, after all—far more security-conscious than their little precinct, which George understood.
"Hang on, let me check."
Victoria Hand switched to speaker, then asked her satellite controller, "Did we capture Saint Ignatius Hospital and the surrounding area yesterday?"
They should have.
Yesterday, to support Hill's operation, the s.h.i.e.l.d. satellite had stayed above New Orleans, recording in high-definition around the clock—after all, they couldn't let the twelve intended "gifts" vanish.
The satellite's route function hadn't been shut off until Hawkeye Barton caught the target that morning.
Quickly,
a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent pulled up yesterday's satellite footage.
The image… was crystal clear.
"Found it."
An agent zoomed in: on the empty screen, a black woman with dreadlocks, wearing an orange top, clutching a baby, confronted two Officers.
George perked up. "Great—can you send me the still?"
"Of course."
Victoria Hand nodded.
A moment later,
ping—
George glanced at the crisp screenshot of the woman that popped up on his phone, thanked Victoria Hand, and turned to Kaup.
Inside the New York Operations Center,
Victoria Hand pocketed her phone and smiled, shaking her head.
Just then—
"Sir!"
Chapter 341: The Stingy S.H.I.E.L.D.
Just after Commander Victoria Hand finished all this and was about to switch the camera back to Maria Hill, the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent who had just switched the surveillance seemed to have discovered something and called out to Commander Victoria Hand.
Commander Hand sat back down in the armchair.
"What's wrong?"
"Look!"
The S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent switched the screen to the satellite playback of St. Ignatius Hospital from last night. The footage continued, playing exactly to the moment when the dreadlock Witch was confronting the two Police Officers.
The next second.
At the moment that dreadlock Witch's eyes turned white and she let out a piercing scream, the two Police Officers turned their guns and shot each other.
Commander Hand stood up: "Another Witch?"
Good heavens.
What is going on with New Orleans?
Did they kick a witches' nest?
Thinking this to herself, Commander Hand said to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent, "Connect me to Director Hill."
The S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent shook his head: "I can't, Commander. According to the plan, Director Hill's phone signal has been jammed."
Commander Victoria Hand: "..."
Yes.
It was jammed, and it was the kind that either required Maria Hill's manual authorization or waiting two hours for the jam to automatically unlock.
No choice.
It was to prevent Nameless from tracking her.
No matter what Nameless thought, Hill felt that if she were in his position and someone beat her to the punch, she would definitely be very unhappy and dissatisfied.
So... to prevent Nameless from learning from her, Hill immediately jammed her signal according to plan after seeing Cordelia and Carrie arrive.
This way, Nameless couldn't call her, and at the same time, he couldn't call Cordelia either.
Moreover, she had a very legitimate reason.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. is a secret law enforcement agency, and witches also need a certain amount of secrecy, don't they?"
"..."
But... "shit!"
At a roadside cafe a block away from the Hilton Hotel, Mr. Nameless cursed irritably and took off his sunglasses: "Damn S.H.I.E.L.D."
Locke, who had been invited out for coffee by Nameless, was drinking his bourbon—no, this time, it was Locke who had invited Nameless out.
After all, Locke was a reserve member of the CIA. Telling Nameless that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Maria Hill was on a date with Cordelia was something he should say.
By the way... to handle some private business.
For example, using a clone to accompany Nameless for coffee, while his main body ran off to collect a debt that was about twelve hours overdue.
It was time to take Fiona's life.
It shouldn't have been so troublesome, but there seemed to be a tiny problem on Gwen's side.
Simply put, when Locke was using the clone, Gwen had said: "You seem to be missing a bit of human flavor compared to just now?"
Locke was very flustered.
Fortunately, he had a whole set of backup plans. This was also why he chose to give himself a CIA job and tell Gwen that he had no secrets.
Nameless dialed Nash's number: "How is it? Have you found them?"
In the secret Base, Nash looked at the satellite on the big screen that was working hard to fly over New Orleans: "Ten more minutes, sir."
Nameless shook his head: "I underestimated this girl. She truly is the strong woman who reorganized S.H.I.E.L.D. in just half a year."
Locke looked up: "Girl?"
Nameless snapped back and looked at Locke.
"Maria Hill. Compared to my age, can't I call her a girl? Actually, Maria Hill also knows your mom... Lorraine."
"...Hm?"
Back at Quantico, Lorraine was a combat instructor for female Agents, and Maria Hill was among them.
"And so?"
Nameless chuckled: "I originally planned to keep her for myself, but she was snatched away by a certain woman I couldn't refuse."
Locke, walking somewhere in the form of Cain, stood on the rooftop of a building and temporarily focused most of his consciousness on the conversation with Nameless.
"A woman you couldn't refuse..."
A woman fitting Nameless's description came to Locke's mind: "Peggy Carter?"
Nameless nodded: "Yes."
Back when Hill was still young, her first job wasn't as a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent; she served in the Military. The CIA and the Military have had a bond for many years, which was why Lorraine Broughton had the opportunity to come into contact with the Maria Hill of that time.
During the training at that time, Lorraine Broughton thought very highly of Maria Hill and suggested that Nameless could try to recruit her to jump ship to the CIA. But who knew, Ms. Peggy Carter beat them to the punch and directly took Maria Hill away before they knew it.
"Damn it."
Nameless suddenly had a strange sense of déjà vu: "As expected of Peggy Carter's last disciple, this method, this style... history isn't going to repeat itself this time, is it?"
Peggy Carter had beaten him to the punch and snatched Maria Hill away.
Now, Maria Hill was planning to replicate that in front of him?
Locke heard this.
He shook his head.
"It won't!"
"Oh?"
Nameless looked at Locke: "Your reason?"
Locke shrugged.
What reason?
He was from the CIA, so no matter what Cordelia thought privately, on the surface, she would definitely stand on his side and choose the CIA.
But this reason obviously couldn't be said out loud.
So... Locke thought for a moment and looked at Nameless: "Cordelia has always wanted to find all the Salem Witches out there. The best way is to tell the outside world after becoming the Supreme Witch. This is the fastest way. So, from this perspective alone, Cordelia's philosophy is different from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s."
S.H.I.E.L.D.'s philosophy is to help the public filter and block things they can know now and things they cannot know now.
Simply put.
S.H.I.E.L.D. is a wall, a so-called artificial wall.
If Cordelia chose to cooperate fully with S.H.I.E.L.D., then frankly, Locke wouldn't choose Cordeliaeither. After all, his mission wasn't to help Cordelia, but to give the witches a stable living environment.
In this regard... S.H.I.E.L.D. won't do.
They agreed to support the Superhero Registration Act and encouraged Little Spider to come out and reveal his identity. In the end, Little Spider foolishly believed them, and then all sorts of troubles came to his door, while S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't do a thing, as if saying, 'Who am I, where am I, what does it have to do with me?'
Although that Black Egghead was still in power back then, one can judge the whole from a part.
What about the CIA?
A few years ago, a reporter in Washington D.C. directly exposed the identity of a female CIA Agent. That female reporter refused to say who the informant was, so the CIA directly used judicial means to detain the woman, saying she could leave whenever she named that damn informant.
There is no harm without comparison.
With such a comparison, the CIA is undoubtedly very nice when it comes to protecting its own.
As for the CIA's habit of letting people quit but not retire?
That's a separate matter.
You can't deny his past actions of saving people just because this guy killed someone; you have to look at it with a dialectical eye.
"So."
Locke spoke as such, looking at Nameless: "If I were you, rather than worrying about whether she'll be snatched away by S.H.I.E.L.D., I would think about other issues. For example, what if Cordelia reveals her identity as a Witch after being interviewed?"
Nameless laughed: "There's no need to worry about that."
One sentence.
There are plenty of churches in the Federation.
Look at the Doran Church, which claims to focus on fighting and capturing witches; isn't it also flourishing across the Federation?
And there's that Celestial Eye Organization in California that looks righteous on the surface but is actually a cult.
Let's put it this way.
There are many sects on the land of the Federation.
Some people say in interviews that they can talk to demons, some say they can talk to the dead, some say they are the incarnation of God. Now, another one comes out saying they are a Witch?
It's just a drop in the bucket.
Mr. Nameless sneered and said, "So, I really can't stand S.H.I.E.L.D.'s style of acting, which seems grand but is actually stingy. If I didn't know the inside story, I would have thought it was some self-established fake law enforcement agency. I heard from a friend in China that they have many like that over there."
"Ha!"
Locke laughed and looked at Nameless: "Don't insult them. The fake agencies in China dare to go into genuine agencies to throw their weight around. Does S.H.I.E.L.D. dare to show off at Langley?"
What a joke.
Swindlers in China dare to go directly into a Police Department, claim to be from a secret organization, and demand that the Police Department release someone.
S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't have the guts.
Even when Nick Fury was detained wearing an orange prison uniform, S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't dare to do that. Compared to those in China, they are simply worlds apart.
However... Locke agreed with Nameless's words that S.H.I.E.L.D. seemed grand but was actually stingy. He finished the bourbon in his glass and intended to take his leave.
He still had serious business to do.
Just then.
Nameless's phone rang.
He answered.
Nameless's eyes lit up. He said, "Wait for me there," then hung up and said to Locke, "Found them. Want to go take a look?"
Locke held out his hands: "You know yourself that I don't get along with the people from S.H.I.E.L.D."
Nameless nodded, took out a hundred-dollar bill from his pocket, and placed it on the table: "My treat. I'm leaving first."
After saying that.
Nameless stood up, left the outdoor cafe, and got into the black Chevrolet sedan by the roadside. The car started and sped away from the street with a whoosh.
Locke smiled.
Just as well, I don't need to leave.
Standing on the rooftop of a certain building, Locke, appearing as Cain, gathered most of his energy back and stared at a building not far away.
There... the magic mark fluctuations marked by Carrie were right there...
342. My Demon Friend
It was just that... besides the aura of Fiona, the target Carrie had marked, there were two other peculiar auras inside.
Both of those auras felt familiar.
Voodoo?
Hell?
Locke opened his eyes. His blood-red pupils gazed at the building not far away, and the corners of his mouth curled up slightly.
Interesting!
Whether it was Voodoo or Hell, Locke had dealt with both before, so he had their auras on record. However, why would a Salem Witch be with Voodoo and Hell?
What was she thinking?
Could it be that Fiona felt the sleeping Salem was less useful than Hell?
And... why did this aura of Hell feel so familiar?
Locke raised an eyebrow, and then, he seemed to think of something.
Is it an old friend?
Boom!
A faint sonic boom echoed. With a 'bang', Locke vanished instantly from where he stood.
Inside the building!
Voodoo Queen Marie Laveau was introducing the Supreme Witch Fiona to a Soul Merchant from Hell who could grant immortality—Regba, who also had dreadlocks.
Immortality had always been what Fiona craved; it was also the motivation that drove her to become the Supreme Witch.
But... after Fiona became the Supreme Witch, she discovered that even being the Supreme Witchcouldn't grant her eternal life. This was because the Salem Dimension was dormant and could not contain their souls at all.
Generally speaking, souls that believe in a dimension return to that dimension after death. However, the Salem Dimension had once fought a war with the Heaven Dimension. No one knew how Heaven was doing, but the Salem Dimension had truly been heavily damaged. It was like a collapsed house; although it could be rebuilt, one needed to stay at someone else's place during the interim.
And that'someone else's place' referred to Hell.
Hell offered no guarantee that witches could live forever. Therefore, once Fiona realized that even being the Supreme Witch wouldn't grant her immortality, she focused almost all her energy on how to achieve eternal life.
It seemed Fiona had never considered one question.
Fiona had never thought about rebuilding Salem. In three hundred years, even a pig could probably have fostered a new tribe.
"You want my blessing?"
"Yes."
Seeing the hope of immortality appear, Fiona, whose face was covered in wrinkles, temporarily cast aside the matters at the Witch Academy. She spoke to the summoned Legba with great excitement: "As long as I can live forever, I will agree to any terms."
Legba was a merchant. When business came to his door, he had no reason to refuse.
Thus, Legba said straightforwardly: "Of course. I am a merchant. You want immortality? It's possible. I need your soul, and then, at this time every year, you must give me a fresh human infant soul."
Souls were good things.
Especially for Hell, the more souls there were, the stronger Hell's power became. Therefore, whenever someone from Hell made a deal, they always talked about souls.
Fiona's face was flushed with excitement, and she didn't even think before saying: "Of course, I am willing!"
What was selling a soul?
As long as she could live forever, she would not only sell her soul but even the entire Salem Witch clan. After all, her life's motto was 'every man for himself and the devil take the hindmost.'
Legba didn't seem to expect Fiona to agree so readily. He looked at the Voodoo Witch Marie Laveauwith some suspicion, seriously doubting if she had recommended an unreliable client to him.
For example... a long-term debtor who takes the loan and then has no intention of paying it back when the time comes?
But, intending to default on a debt to Hell?
Legba let out a snort. He walked directly in front of Fiona, cupped her wrinkled cheeks, and kissed her directly.
This was the traditional method of a Soul Merchant, using this way to sense or extract the target's soul.
But!
Legba opened his eyes and released Fiona, who had closed her eyes as if enjoying it. He said in a deep voice: "You have no soul!"
Fiona opened her eyes: "What?"
Legba said solemnly: "You are the Supreme Witch!"
Fiona nodded.
Legba shook his head: "Your soul is already contracted to Salem. You cannot give me what I want."
Fiona was stunned: "I can give it to you. I can give you my soul."
Legba was expressionless.
"The game between dimensions is not played like this."
"What? Salem is already dormant; she can't give me what I want at all."
"You signed a contract with Salem. Your soul already belongs to Salem. I cannot reach a contract with you. Even if I let it through, my boss would not be happy."
He was just a Soul Merchant, merely a white glove for a Great Demon Duke within the Hell Dimension.
Hearing Legba's words, Fiona froze on the spot. She looked at Legba: "What if I am no longer the Supreme Witch? This Salem is nothing special; I don't want to stay anymore."
Legba shook his head.
"However..."
"Hmm?"
Legba looked up, his gaze shifting toward a dark corner of the Room. He spoke out: "I sense your soul; thus far, it has gained more mystery and purity, darkness and light. What exactly have you encountered these past few years, my strange yet familiar friend?"
"What?"
"Someone is there?"
Fiona and Voodoo Queen Marie Laveau heard Legba's words and immediately looked toward the dark corner of the Room.
Coming into view...
Dressed in a black suit, with feminine features, a pale face, and blood-red eyes, Locke walked slowly out of the darkness with his hands in his pockets, like a king emerging from the shadows.
"Who are you?"
"A Vampire?"
Locke glanced at Fiona and the Voodoo Witch Marie Laveau, then looked at Legba: "It's a long story. Let's talk after I finish my business."
Legba did not speak.
The next second.
After Locke finished speaking to Legba, Fiona's hair stood on end like a startled cat. However, before she could even react...
"Bang!"
"Thud!"
Locke grabbed Fiona's neck with his right hand and instantly applied force. The finger strength provided by his Iron Body, enough to crush a piece of steel, erupted, allowing Fiona to complete a painless one-second journey to death.
"Thud!"
Gulp!
Voodoo Queen Marie Laveau watched Locke, who had taken Fiona's life as soon as he appeared and seemed to be a man of few words but great ruthlessness. She couldn't help but swallow hard.
Locke looked down at Fiona lying on the ground and didn't speak.
After a while...
Locke raised an eyebrow and looked at Legba: "So, where is her soul?"
Legba closed his eyes: "It has already gone to Hell."
Locke shrugged: "I didn't feel the Gates of Hell opening."
"It's complicated."
"Tell me about it."
"..."
Locke looked down at the corpse at his feet. Not feeling the soul go to Hell, he felt that Fiona might be faking her death. After all, she was a Witch; he needed to ensure one hundred percent death.
Legba looked at the gaze Locke sent his way. Maintaining his merchant's attitude, he explained to Locke quite amiably that a Salem Witch's soul belonged to Salem. But because Salem was dormant, the soul couldn't enter Salem and would instead be temporarily held in escrow by this Hell Dimension.
But this was escrow.
From a certain perspective, the soul of a Salem Witch was just a visitor to Hell, not a resident. This was why Salem Witches could come back to life and why the souls of witches who had been dead for so long were still in Hell.
"So..."
Locke understood. He looked down at Fiona's body: "She went to Hell, but as long as a Witch brings her back to life, she will still return?"
Legba nodded: "Exactly..."
Boom!
"WTF..."
Before Legba could finish his sentence, there was a 'bang'. His eyes almost popped out as he watched Fiona turn directly into powder before his eyes. He couldn't help but swear.
Locke clapped his hands and walked toward a nearby sink to wash them: "Like this, now that she's turned into dust, can she still come back?"
Legba gulped and involuntarily swallowed. He shook his head: "It's unlikely now."
At the very least, resurrection was no longer possible.
Locke nodded: "That's good."
His requirements weren't high. Once dead, stay dead. Don't pull any repetitive stunts, as long as you don't play the cicada shedding its skin or the living corpse routine.
Once dead, one should look the part.
"Alright."
Locke flicked his right hand, and two wine glasses appeared. He poured two glasses of bourbon and handed one directly to Legba.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Locke raised his glass and clinked it with the dreadlocked Legba: "I don't really like the skin color of this vessel. Maybe you could consider changing to a different color."
Others saw Legba's exterior—the appearance.
But... what Locke saw was Legba's inner self, his true demonic form.
Just as Legba could also see the true soul Locke had actively exposed beneath Cain's exterior.
"Your original form looks better than this one."
"I thought this style was quite popular now."
"It's not."
Locke shook his head expressionlessly: "When you were in DZ, did you ever see this skin color being popular?"
Legba looked at the serious Locke and nodded: "Fine, I accept your suggestion. I'll consider it. However, I've only been using this skin for a short while; it's not worn out yet. You know, a good skin costs a lot of money."
Humans had currency.
Hell certainly had its own as well, especially for a skin specifically for walking in the human world—that was even more expensive.
Locke smiled.
He raised his glass.
"Well, anyway, I'm glad to see you here, my friend."
"Me too."
Clink.
Locke and Legba clinked their glasses together.
Beside them, the Voodoo Queen Marie Laveau seemed a bit dumbfounded...
343. News from the Devil
Yes.
Old friend!
It's a well-known fact that DZ is vast and sparsely populated, rich in resources, with simple folk and abundant species. Locke had told Gwen more than once about his face-to-face encounters with serial killers, friendly interactions with ogres, and even drinking with demons in DZ.
This soul merchant, Regba, was one of the few demons Locke knew in DZ.
In fact… let me put it this way.
Locke felt he deserved some credit for Regba becoming a soul merchant, because back in DZ, Regba was just a low-level imp, barely able to feed himself.
Moreover.
Perhaps no one would believe it, but the Regba Locke knew in DZ wasn't male, but female—a pitiable female demon.
Locke quickly analyzed the aura from outside, recognizing that the dreadlocked Regba before him was the female demon who, when he was six years old, had been so famished she wanted to eat him.
Thankfully.
Locke was a light sleeper, and after an all-night conversation with Regba at the orphanage, he pointed a clear path for the then-starving Regba.
He advised her to return to hell and, using her innate half-human, half-demon bloodline, find a demon archduke, express her willingness to become his pawn, and sign contracts on Earth for him, earning souls.
Actually… Locke was just talking big at the time, after all, he was only six years old. Although Regba was almost starving to death then, a starving camel is still bigger than a horse. If Regba had insisted on eating Locke at that time, it would have been quite easy.
Frankly, Locke hadn't expected Regba to be so easily fooled. She actually listened to him, seemed to find it very reasonable, and scurried back. Then, she apparently accepted the principle that DZ wasn't conducive to stealthy development, and from then on, Locke never saw Regba again.
He hadn't expected it.
He had almost forgotten about this matter, and now, after so long, he was meeting an old acquaintance in this foreign land.
Yes, a foreign land.
Locke came from the Lone Star Republic, so calling any state outside of DZ a foreign country was perfectly valid.
Regba licked her lips: "Your soul must taste delicious."
Locke chuckled: "It's fine to have thoughts, but don't act on them, or I'll get angry, especially with you looking like this."
"You ruined my deal."
"You weren't planning on making a deal with her anyway."
"Maybe I would have. Salem is already asleep. If I could earn a high-quality soul for my boss, he would be very happy."
"Hehe."
Locke tilted his head, listening to Regba's words: "Wanting souls isn't hard. Go to New York; there are plenty of souls waiting for you to harvest."
Not to mention the distant ones, just the nearby ones.
After returning this time, the Doran Church would definitely have to surrender.
So… Locke smiled and said, "Perfect, you can go to New York to get a new skin. This one is too ugly."
Regba shook her head: "No, there's already a soul merchant who went to New York."
Locke raised an eyebrow.
"Who?"
"I don't know."
Regba shook her head and whispered, "But, it's certain he works for the Big Boss."
The Big Boss of Hell, undoubtedly, Mephisto.
Just then.
Woo-woo-woo!
Police cars roared, and several even drifted, whooshing to a halt in front of the building.
"Thump!"
"Thump!"
"Thump!"
Officers from New Orleans quickly exited their patrol cars, drew their weapons, and aimed them at the voodoo witch Raven's building.
Locke raised an eyebrow and looked at Regba: "Someone's here."
Regba nodded: "I'm leaving first."
Locke smiled: "I've memorized your frequency. Once you've changed your skin, remember to let me know, and I'll buy you a drink."
"Okay."
Regba nodded, then took a deep look at the Voodoo Queen, and with a whoosh, disappeared.
Just one glance.
The Voodoo Queen's memories quickly faded, including everything that had just happened. Her soul was in Regba's hands, so Regba had complete control.
After all, Regba was working for an Archduke of Hell, not Mephisto. If Mephisto knew there was an Archduke's representative on Earth stealing his souls, Mephisto would be very angry.
So… every time Regba came up and went back, she would erase her appearance, lest Mephisto notice the Voodoo Queen and accidentally expose her.
After all… Regba and her boss were engaged in a rebellion. A slight misstep could lead to Mephisto executing their entire family.
So, this time Regba also erased the Voodoo Queen's memories, and incidentally, Locke's memories too.
Locke looked at the Voodoo Queen, whose eyes were blank and who stood in place, still rebooting, and his gaze fell on a pacifier-sucking infant in a stroller.
So that's it.
What a coincidence.
Locke raised an eyebrow, seemingly discovering why the New Orleans Police Department was here.
Boom!
Locke, like a ghost, walked directly out the front door, moving like a meteor, and swiftly left the encirclement.
The next second.
Locke stopped, stood firm, and frowned as he looked at a black sedan and a police car approaching in the distance.
George and Gwen?
"Bang!"
"Thump!"
George got out of the car and said to Gwen, Zoe, and Madison, who were getting out of the black sedan: "You three, stay here."
As he spoke.
George took the bulletproof vest Kaupt threw to him and put it on.
Gwen, meanwhile, looked at the surrounded building in the distance, then down at the raised hairs on the back of her hand: "Are you sure Nan's aura is in there?"
Gwen had been staying comfortably in the hotel, but the hotel's printer seemed to be broken, so Gwen thought of going out to find a printer to print something. After leaving the hotel, she saw Zoe and Madison.
Then Zoe and Madison told her that Nan seemed to be missing, and it was very likely she was taken by Fiona at noon, after all, surveillance cameras don't lie.
Gwen also had a pretty good impression of Nan, so she joined the search. She once again witnessed the witches' methods of finding things.
Then… on the way here, she met up with George.
Zoe nodded: "I can feel Nan's aura, but Fiona's aura…"
Seems to be fading?
Zoe looked at Madison, somewhat unsure.
The latter gave the same answer: "Fiona's aura is fading."
"What does that mean?"
"She's dead."
"Huh?"
Gwen blinked: "Didn't you say she was the Supreme Witch?"
Shouldn't the Supreme Witch be very powerful?
Madison stared at the building in the distance and said, "That building is the Voodoo Queen's residence, and also where that damned bitch betrayed."
She was referring to the human-shaped voodoo doll, Queenie, who had previously looked like a lump of fat.
Gwen wasn't concerned with the "bitch" Madison mentioned; she only heard the first part of the sentence.
Voodoo Queen?
"This is the Voodoo Queen's residence?"
Gwen blinked, quickly came back to her senses, then looked up at the New Orleans Police Department officers who were no longer talking and were preparing to storm the building.
"Wait a…"
"Boom!"
Just as Gwen was about to shout for them to stop, with a loud bang, the Voodoo Queen Raven's residence door was blasted open like a cannonball. The shattered door, accompanied by broken stones, scattered rapidly in all directions.
"Take cover!"
"Take cover!"
"…"
The officers quickly shouted and retreated swiftly.
Smoke billowed.
A walking voodoo doll, like a meatball, holding a fruit knife, came to the doorway. Staring at one of the leading officers who intended to break in, she moved the fruit knife towards her own neck.
Queenie, the voodoo doll, known as the walking voodoo doll, could transfer self-inflicted harm to her target.
Therefore.
Queenie's suicide wasn't suicide, but murder.
But… Queenie apparently forgot one thing.
This was the Federation; you couldn't just commit suicide whenever you wanted.
Just as Queenie was about to slit her own throat with the fruit knife.
Instantly.
A volley of bullets.
"Puff puff puff!"
"Puff puff puff!"
The Voodoo Doll Queenie's ability was to transfer self-inflicted harm to the target she focused on. There was a key word here.
Self-inflicted.
If the voodoo doll herself used a handgun to shoot herself, the damage would be inflicted on her chosen target.
But if someone else shot her with a gun, could that still be called self-inflicted harm?
Clearly.
It could not.
In an instant, countless bullet holes appeared on the Voodoo Doll Queenie's mountain-like body, oozing black blood with gurgling sounds.
The next second.
The Voodoo Doll Queenie let out a wail, and then, with a thud, fell straight to the ground.
"Foolish!"
"That damned bitch is finally dead."
Madison crossed her arms, watching from afar as the humanoid voodoo doll Queenie was instantly defeated by the police's powerful firepower, unapologetically speaking with her venomous tongue.
Gwen, seeing this, also seemed to let go of her inner worries.
Nothing else.
It seemed just as Cordelia had said, nowadays, no witch could resist modern weaponry. Even the most powerful witch would have to kneel before more powerful firearms.
So… listening to Madison's words, Gwen seemed to think of something and looked at Madison, saying: "You and Locke will definitely have common ground."
Madison was slightly stunned and looked at Gwen.
In the distance, Locke, who was watching from afar, also raised an eyebrow.
What does that have to do with me?
344. Carrie: Am I exposed?
Standing not far away, Locke, who was minimizing his presence and appearing as Cain, heard Gwen's sudden remark from a distance and it took him a while to understand its meaning.
No other reason.
Gwen probably thought that Madison's view on breeds was similar to his—the type of person who disliked seeing a black stain—which was why she said Madison had a common language with him.
Locke shook his head, a little speechless.
He didn't have breed discrimination; it was just that he happened to dislike black breeds.
It was like some people had pollen allergies, and he, coincidentally, was allergic to black breeds.
That's all!
Locke thought to himself, then turned to prepare to enter the fray.
"Go, go, go!"
"Charge, charge, charge!"
Over there, after killing the voodoo doll Queenie to prevent her suicide, the New Orleans police officers regrouped, intending to continue breaking down the door.
Just then.
Bang!
A huge gust of wind directly swept out from the Voodoo Queen's room, like a hurricane of level ten, directly blowing more than a dozen officers who were preparing to attack again into the air.
Even several officers weighing 180 pounds were affected.
The next second.
It was like the sound of dumplings falling into a pot, with thuds echoing continuously; several lighter officers even crashed with a 'thud' directly onto a police car, very unluckily.
A 'crack' sound.
The police car's window shattered.
"Dad!"
"Gwen?"
George, who was inside the cordon, saw Gwen raising her hand and calling out to him from outside. He walked over and said in a deep voice, "Gwen, leave quickly, this is..."
George's words were cut short.
Gwen quickly interrupted, "Dad, the Voodoo Queen lives in there. She can use magic, a voodoo witch as powerful as the Dark Sovereign."
Originally, Gwen had seen the Voodoo Doll get taken down right after appearing and thought the Voodoo Witch was nothing special.
But... Zoe and Madison told her that wasn't the case.
Just then.
An Audi drove up from a distance.
It landed!
He got out of the car.
Locke walked over to Gwen: "Gwen, why did you come here?"
As he spoke.
Locke nodded to George, who was inside the cordon.
Seeing this, George waved his hand: "Locke, take Gwen away from here, it's very dangerous."
Locke nodded.
"Locke, the Voodoo Queen lives in there, and it seems Nan is also inside."
"...Nan?"
"Yes, Nan was brought out by Fiona at noon. We followed Nan's scent and came here, but..."
"Nan's scent also seems to be gone."
"..."
Locke raised an eyebrow.
Nan is in that room?
How did he not know?
Locke's thoughts raced; at the very least, when he was just in that house, there was no trace of Nan, or at least, no living trace.
Is Nan dead?
"Ring, ring, ring!"
"Hello."
"...Are you kidding me?"
"..."
Locke and Gwen looked at George, who was answering the phone inside the cordon.
George, who had been laughing a second ago, instantly turned serious, mumbled a couple of 'uh-huhs,' and then hung up the phone.
The next second.
George pointed to Locke and Gwen, along with the other two, then nodded to the two people guarding the cordon, indicating that these four could enter, and then went directly to find Copp.
After a while.
Under Copp's command, the New Orleans police officers directly surrounded the house from all sides, abandoning the third planned forced entry.
"Tell me, little girl."
George returned to Locke and the others, looking at Gwen with a serious expression: "How do you know about the Voodoo Queen?"
Oh no!
Gwen blinked, looking at the serious George: "Dad, who called just now?"
She didn't want to hide it from George, but if she told him, it would break her agreement with Locke. Once George knew about the Witch Academy, he would then know the story between the Witch Academy and the CIA, and then he would know that Locke was actually a secret CIA agent.
This is not good.
So, Gwen felt that rather than exposing Locke's identity, it would be better to keep Dad in the dark.
Hmm.
Gwen's thoughts raced as she looked at George, her eyes clear.
George felt he could no longer look directly at the phrase "clear eyes."
It's all because of this wild boar.
George saw Gwen change the subject, clearly not wanting to talk, so he glared directly at Locke beside him, then his gaze fell on the car that had driven up from not far away.
Locke was bewildered by George's glare.
What does it have to do with me if Gwen doesn't tell you? If you ask me, I'll definitely tell you.
However... Locke didn't need to speak anymore.
Because Maria Hill and Mr. Nobody had already arrived, one after the other.
George frowned, looking at Maria Hill and Mr. Nobody who arrived one after another, and chuckled, "Why is it that when I see the two of you, I'm not surprised at all?"
Mr. Nobody laughed heartily and shook George's hand: "I'm quite curious to see Inspector Stacy here. When did Inspector Stacy transfer to New Orleans?"
George said, "On vacation, met a friend, there was a case, came to help out."
Mr. Nobody smiled, "I see, I am the same."
You're a ghost; you old scoundrel, you're very wicked.
George directly gave Mr. Nobody a look that said 'Do you think I believe you?' and then looked at Maria Hill: "So, Ms. Hill also happened to be here on vacation?"
Hill shook her head.
See?
No wonder they say you CIA people are full of lies; there's no basic trust left between people.
George thought to himself, then turned to look at Mr. Nobody, wanting Mr. Nobody to learn from Hill... Where is he?
George was slightly startled, then turned around and saw Mr. Nobody, who had once again walked up to Locke, seemingly still holding a torch for him, and narrowed his eyes.
This wild boar is already taken.
"Inspector Stacy."
"Director Hill."
George came back to his senses, looking at Maria Hill, who, in his mind, was now a straightforward person.
Hill looked around: "Inspector Stacy, this case involves supernatural powers. It's not good for too many people to know."
"Supernatural? The Voodoo Witch you mentioned on the phone?"
"Yes."
Hill seemed very honest, not hiding anything: "Our professionals will be here shortly."
George listened to Hill's words: "Professionals, who are they?"
Hill smiled: "Inspector Stacy, my goal is the same as yours: to rescue the baby taken by the Voodoo Queen, isn't it?"
George nodded, though he couldn't shake the feeling that Hill's words were a prelude to something.
The next second.
"Holy sh*t!"
"The Dark Sovereign?"
"Oh my god!"
A series of exclamations came from behind.
George turned to look.
What he saw.
Thud!
A pair of long boots suddenly landed, followed by Syndra, dressed in a black trench coat, with white hair flowing over her shoulders, wearing a slightly exaggerated headdress, and eyes filled with purple light.
George's eyes narrowed.
He drew his gun.
"Don't..."
"Inspector Stacy."
Hill appeared directly in front of George, seemingly blocking him like a human shield, and said in a deep voice, "Professionals do professional things."
George took a deep breath and immediately understood that this Dark Sovereign in front of him was the professional Hill was talking about.
But thinking about it, it makes sense... Makes sense my butt!
George narrowed his eyes and said in a deep voice, "She's a criminal!"
Hill shook her head: "Not convicted. To my knowledge, the NYPD has no intention of prosecuting Ms. Syndra."
"That's because we can't catch her."
"Ms. Syndra is here to help today."
Hill shook her head and smiled: "I think, Inspector Stacy, you would agree that rescuing a baby is more important than arresting someone who hasn't been convicted, wouldn't you?"
George: "..."
Hill's reason for inviting Carrie to help was very simple.
Someone once said that to quickly build a relationship with someone, it's not about what you do for them, but about letting them do something for you.
Giving is always more memorable than receiving.
Hill deeply agreed; she still remembered this was what a CIA instructor, who taught her combat, told her during her training at Quantico.
Copp, over there, looked at several colleagues who had been injured by falling during the recent storm, then looked at Carrie descending from the sky. Instead of choosing to arrest her like George, he said in a pleading tone, "Don't kill her!"
Killing her would be too easy for her.
Carrie seemed to have read Copp's mind, nodded, spread her hands, and ascended directly. In an instant, magic surged out, transforming into purple mist that rushed directly towards the Voodoo Queen's wooden house.
"Damn it!"
The moment the magic collided, the Voodoo Queen, hiding inside, screamed, "You are not a Salem witch!"
A witch from Salem couldn't possess such overbearing magic.
Ruthless.
It even felt like it was devouring her magic.
"Bang!"
Carrie extended her right hand, a dark orb condensed directly, her left hand moved, a baby's swaddle landed directly in her left hand, and then the dark orb from her right hand shot out: "Boom!"
The small dark orb, when it struck the house, directly tore open a large black hole, revealing the Voodoo Witch inside, busily drawing a voodoo spell array on the ground, preparing to summon her energy supplier.
The Voodoo Queen looked at the gaping hole and couldn't help but look up.
Their eyes met.
Thud!
Carrie, accompanied by the powerful psychic shock of her magic, directly suppressed the Voodoo Queen. The latter's eyes rolled back, and with a crash, her consciousness was shattered, causing her to fall to the ground, bleeding from her seven orifices.
The next second.
Carrie handed the baby in her left hand to a nearby female officer, then looked up directly, and with a boom, like Superman, she vanished from the spot.
Gwen, standing with Zoe and Madison, looked up in the direction Carrie had left, staring at the back of her hand, appearing thoughtful...
Three Hundred Forty-Five: Gwen's Suspicion
When the Voodoo Queen was arrested, blood was gushing from all seven of her orifices, like a madwoman.
The baby was successfully rescued.
At the same time... Police Officers also found Nan, who had been brought here, seemingly intended as some kind of sacrifice, in an Underground Room filled with Voodoo creations.
Besides the two Police Officers who had previously died, this time, only six Police Officers suffered injuries of varying degrees when they were blown away.
It could definitely be called a happy ending.
Except for two people.
George stood with one hand on his hip, wiped his face, and looked at Maria Hill with a serious expression: "We never make deals with criminals."
Maria Hill shrugged: "Yes, you didn't. I did."
Most of the Police Department was chauvinistic.
Over the years, Maria Hill had learned how to deal with Police Departments everywhere. Simply put, Police Departments were like donkeys that needed to be stroked in the right direction, not against the grain.
So... everything George said was right. The Police Department didn't make deals with criminals, but it wasn't the Police Department that had just made a deal with the Dark Sovereign, it was the Department of Homeland Security.
After speaking, Hill looked at George and nodded very seriously: "But, the outcome is good, isn't it?"
George listened to Maria Hill's all-encompassing words, opened his mouth, and was instantly speechless.
"The outcome..."
George opened his mouth, took a deep breath, and deeply glanced at Hill, who had a faint smile on her face and an expression that said, 'Go ahead and say it, I'll admit it.' He couldn't say anything.
How could he say it?
Say the outcome was bad?
The baby was saved, and even a kidnapping case was solved. Most importantly, this Voodoo Witch, who had become an idiot, might also be involved in an intentional homicide case?
If he said the outcome was bad, he would probably have to pray that he would never come to New Orleans again for the rest of his life after going back.
But say the outcome was good?
I came here to catch the Peerless Assassin, not to form an alliance with the Peerless Assassin's accomplices.
George was silent for a moment, then looked at Hill: "So, the Department of Homeland Security has connected with this Dark Sovereign. What do you mean, she's become your informant?"
Hill, who was about to get in the car to go back to the precinct to rest, stopped and turned to look at George: "Captain Stacy, you've seen this World. We're not from the same World. For example, can our laws govern foreigners?"
George was expressionless: "As long as he breaks the law in the Federation!"
Hill thought seriously for a moment, then nodded: "Correct, but there's something called Diplomatic Immunity."
"The Department of Homeland Security issued it?"
"If you find it acceptable, yes."
Hill looked at George and said, then chuckled: "Goodbye, Captain Stacy."
George: "..."
Diplomatic Immunity?
Locke, who was standing with Gwen not far away, listened to the conversation between Hill and George and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.
Oh, right.
I forgot there was such a thing.
How much?
I'll also get three for the Peerless Assassin... no, for the Peerless Assassin, Witch Rocco, and Cain of the Blood Clan. That way, when their identities are revealed, they can be revealed one by one, and without risk.
Locke thought to himself.
His lips curved upwards.
He seemed to have already seen George's wonderfully expressive face in the future, when Georgelearns that he is the Peerless Assassin and is about to arrest him, and he pulls out the immunity order.
Locke was filled with anticipation at this thought.
But... where could he buy this immunity order?
Locke blinked, looked at Gwen, wanting to consult his know-it-all.
The next second.
Locke looked at Gwen, who was lowering her head and frowning, and blinked.
"Gwen?"
"...Hmm?"
Gwen looked up at Locke, who had a concerned expression: "What's wrong?"
Locke smiled: "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"
Gwen blinked.
"What?"
"What were you just thinking about?"
"Nothing."
Gwen shook her head, her long ponytail sweeping past Locke's nose, sweetly, then she extended her left hand: "Look."
Locke looked.
"Hmm, very pretty."
"...I meant for you to look at the fine hairs."
"Even if it's covered in black hair, I still think it's beautiful. I've always thought that having hair is more alluring than not having hair."
"…"
Gwen looked at Locke, her lips twitching, and her left hand clenched into a small pink fist.
She wanted to punch Locke.
I wasn't planning on removing the hair.
Gwen took a deep breath and looked at Locke: "The hairs on the back of my hand were lying flat just now."
Locke looked at Gwen, looking confused.
Gwen rolled her eyes. These past two days, she had suddenly discovered a pattern with her hairs standing on end.
On the plane, when she encountered those fourteen people, her hairs stood on end, indicating danger.
At the restaurant, the first time she saw Zoe and the others, her hairs stood on end, indicating danger.
At the academy, when she saw Cordelia, her hairs stood on end, indicating danger.
"But..."
Gwen looked at Locke with a serious expression: "But, when the Dark Sovereign came out just now, they didn't stand on end. What does that mean?"
Locke blinked, looking at Gwen's academic and inquisitive expression. He couldn't bring himself to lie, so he could only follow Gwen's line of thought: "It means the Dark Sovereign isn't dangerous?"
"Bingo!"
"…"
Gwen snapped her fingers and looked at Locke: "Why is that?"
Locke rolled his eyes internally.
Why indeed.
Because Carrie wasn't dangerous to you in the first place, and Carrie just changed her disguise, she wasn't a different person, so how could there be any danger?
Stay calm.
Don't panic!
Even if the Earth explodes, I can control the whole situation.
Locke thought to himself, his expression as calm as Water. He shrugged: "Because the Dark Sovereignis our ally this time, not an enemy. Besides, even though this World has magic, we still need to talk about science. Intuition has been disproven. Besides, your evidence is too weak, and the sample size is too small. What if it's wrong?"
Gwen shook her head, and then, as if she thought of something, she looked at Locke: "Actually, at the hotel, I also had that feeling once, no, twice."
Locke looked at Gwen: "Twice?"
Locke knew about one of the times; it was the day he planned to use a clone to do the work while his main body went out. However, as soon as Locke's clone walked out of the bathroom, he felt Gwen's hairs stand on end.
So... Locke wisely chose to tell Nameless, letting Nameless take the blame and call him out.
But there was another time?
When did that happen?
Sure enough.
After Gwen finished talking about the time today when she was lying in the bedroom and her hairs inexplicably stood on end, she said to Locke: "The other time was when I asked Dee for a Room card, planning to surprise you. When I opened the door, my hairs stood on end."
Locke raised an eyebrow.
That must have been the day Carrie came back from Lake Lyre after her debut, right?
So... Gwen's Spider-Sense, on that day, recorded Carrie's lingering Dark Sovereign aura, and then, after identifying the aura, chose to remain calm, just like after meeting Zoe and the others for the first time and seemingly understanding they were friends, it remained calm the second time they met?
Goodfellas.
Gwen's Spider-Sense even has intelligent recognition?
Locke raised an eyebrow.
Gwen saw his reaction.
"What's wrong? Did you think of something?"
"No."
"Then why did you raise your eyebrow?"
"Alright."
Locke came back to his senses, looked at Gwen, and shrugged: "Believe me, if my girlfriend were anyone else, opening the door and seeing me hugging another woman would make her hairs stand on end. Yours is normal."
Gwen was slightly stunned: "Oh, right."
Clever me!
Locke smiled slightly, silently giving himself a thumbs-up.
But the next second.
Gwen shook her head.
"No."
"Hmm?"
"Then it's even more correct."
"Huh?"
Gwen blinked, looked up at Locke: "This means that even before I opened the door, I knew there might be something I wouldn't like inside, giving me a warning. But once I knew the truth, it was like after meeting Zoe and Madison, the second time it was deactivated."
Locke opened his mouth: "What about the second time?"
Gwen shook her head: "That time seemed to be a false alarm."
She was lying in bed during the day, and Locke was still in the bathroom. Her hairs inexplicably stood on end, and then disappeared in an instant.
Very strange.
Locke spread his hands: "So the sample size for statistics is still not enough. The daytime was a false alarm, and this time was an underreporting. It's very normal."
"Is that so?"
"...Maybe."
Locke didn't speak too definitively. Just as he would give a lifeline to anyone on his blacklist, he would also leave a way out for any of his words to be chosen in the future.
Simply put.
This was the art of speaking.
Soon.
As they were talking.
Cordelia also arrived at this moment.
After all, after Cordelia returned to the academy, she heard about Nan's kidnapping from other students and rushed to the scene.
Afterward... she heard terrible news from Zoe and Madison.
The Voodoo Queen had killed Fiona, and it was the kind where there were no bones left, completely pulverized.
After all, the scene was very clear. Nan, wrapped in a blanket and undergoing examination by medical personnel, stated that she had been kidnapped by Fiona. Then the New Orleans Police Departmentarrived, and Dark Sovereign Syndra publicly turned the Voodoo Witch into an imbecile, and Fiona's aura disappeared here.
If it wasn't the Voodoo Witch who did it, then who could it be?
Dark Sovereign?
Unless Dark Sovereign performed a disappearing act in front of so many people...
Three Hundred Forty-Six: Fate Has Already Marked the Price
Inside the New Orleans Police Department.
In the conference Room.
Cordelia covered her mouth with her hands, seemingly digesting the sad news.
Madison was about to say something.
But... Zoe stopped her.
Although Fiona had killed Madison once, Madison was resurrected, while Fiona didn't even have the slightest chance of resurrection.
With no bones left, how could she be resurrected?
This was discovered just now when Mr. Nameless bribed the Police Department's high-ranking officials to arrange for Cordelia to be alone with the Voodoo Witch, directly extracting memories from the Voodoo Witch's chaotic sea of consciousness.
In Cordelia's perception, Fiona could completely be considered to have brought it upon herself.
Let's put it this way.
Fiona and the Voodoo Witch were originally enemies. This time, Cordelia kidnapped Nan, intending to offer her to the Voodoo Witch as a peace offering. After that, she even demanded that the Voodoo Witch cast spells on Nameless and others, and at the same time, help her disrupt this Supreme Witchelection.
In return, Fiona would not only bring two newborn souls to the Voodoo Queen every year, but also continue to ignore the Voodoo Queen's secret collaboration with the local Doran Church to persecute Witches.
After perceiving all of this, Cordelia simply couldn't believe it was true.
This was also why Cordelia covered her mouth; she wasn't sad about Fiona's death. As she said before, although she and Fiona were mother and daughter, Cordelia had no affection or feelings for this beauty-loving and promiscuous mother.
After all, any normal person would probably have no feelings for a mother who was sleeping with someone in the next Room while their father was bedridden, right?
After a while.
Cordelia took a deep breath, shook her head, and looked at Zoe and Madison: "Let's go, we need to prepare."
Tomorrow is the end of the year.
Originally, the three council members of the Salem Witches Council, seeing the turbulent situation in New Orleans during this period, and Fiona's excuse yesterday of "the New Orleans ordinary law enforcement agencies are restless," had planned to postpone the Supreme Witch election.
Now?
Fiona is dead, it's a blessing that the election will be held normally instead of being moved up.
Salem is currently dormant and cannot be without a Supreme Witch. The coordinates of the dormant Salem Dimension are currently fixed by generations of Supreme Witches entrusting their souls.
Now that Fiona is dead, if they don't quickly elect another Supreme Witch, it is feared that the Salem Witches will truly disappear into the river of time.
Nameless, sitting not far from Locke, said: "Ms. Goode, my people have already deployed in that district. No one will cause trouble. Tomorrow, the three-kilometer radius around the Academy will be under our control. Try to keep the commotion to a minimum, if possible."
After all, Nameless didn't know how the Supreme Witch election worked.
However... Nameless felt it might be similar to boxing.
It should be similar.
Nameless said, looking at Locke: "When are you returning to New York?"
Gwen, who was standing with Zoe and Madison, seemingly comforting Cordelia, looked up at Locke when she heard this.
Locke, who had been propping his chin with his left hand, seemingly lost in thought, snapped back to attention and moved his fingers: "After the Supreme Witch election ends."
He didn't say after Cordelia's coronation ceremony.
After all... this time, Zoe and Madison would also participate in the Supreme Witch election.
Although Locke had already decided, it wouldn't be good to state it so openly. After all, the appearance of fairness, impartiality, and transparency still needed to be maintained.
After speaking, Locke continued to be lost in thought.
He really was lost in thought.
In fact.
The moment Locke eliminated Fiona, he had already captured the Salem Dimension that he had been trying to find for so many days but hadn't been able to locate.
In the evening.
When Locke and Gwen returned to the hotel, Carrie was already back.
Carrie, wearing a white sweater and sitting cross-legged on the sofa, reading a newspaper, looked up at the two entering and greeted them.
Gwen's eyes lit up. She placed the pastries she was carrying, which she had just packed from the restaurant, on the table: "Carrie, when did you get back?"
Carrie checked the time on her wristwatch: "About an hour ago, I saw a friend off at the station."
"The station?"
"Yes."
Carrie nodded: "A friend from Texas, happened to be here, so we chatted this afternoon."
Gwen hummed, took off her down jacket, pulled the pastries over to the sofa, and sat down: "I thought you hadn't eaten, so I packed some pastries, afraid you'd be hungry."
They had eaten with George and Kaup tonight. Gwen originally wanted Locke to call Carrie over, but Carrie seemed to still be out at the time. So, after eating, Gwen simply asked the restaurant to pack some pastries to bring back.
As for George and Kaup?
They went back to Kaup's small place. In New Orleans, so far from Helen, George finally got a chance to let loose.
Carrie put down her book, looked at the opened pastry boxes by Gwen, and smiled: "I can still eat a little more."
Gwen opened all the pastry boxes: "Let me tell you, Dad was very pained when paying the bill."
In fact... Gwen looked at her father's twitching cheek after seeing the bill and felt it wouldn't be surprising if he blurted out
After all, these pastries were quite expensive.
Gwen thought to herself, then turned to look at Locke, who was sitting at the bar, drinking bourbon.
Locke saw Gwen's gaze, smiled, raised his bourbon, and took a sip.
He had intended to pay when they left.
But George probably felt that with his brother present, if he let Locke pay, it would damage George's masculine status and image.
So it wasn't his business.
Locke swore to God, he really didn't intend to trick George. At that time, George's look, as if he'd pull out a gun if Locke tried to pay, left Locke with no choice but to back down.
Besides.
It was only a five-hundred-dollar bill, plus tips, about five hundred fifty dollars. A meal, very normal.
Soon.
These three boxes of pastries, totaling over a hundred dollars, were eaten by Gwen and Carrie. It proved that no woman could resist desserts.
Gwen stood up and tidied the table with Carrie, saying: "Time to sleep, there's a good show tomorrow."
Carrie blinked, looking at Locke.
Locke, who was pouring himself a drink at the bar, prompted: "The Supreme Witch selection."
Carrie said, "Oh," then, a little curious: "What's there to see?"
Hasn't the outcome already been written?
Cordelia will become the Supreme Witch.
Locke's words.
Could there still be someone so blind as to cause trouble?
Haven't those who intended to cause trouble already been dealt with in advance?
Gwen threw the dessert boxes into the trash can: "Madison is full of confidence for tomorrow's Supreme Witch selection."
Locke hummed.
Madison's talent was actually the same as Cordelia's, both at eight points.
But... Locke was choosing a partner, not a concubine, and besides, he had no intention of having a harem. Furthermore, Madison's personality dictated that after becoming the Supreme Witch, she would only care about herself and not the bigger picture, which was contrary to Locke's demands.
Cordelia, who was not Professor X in personality but was Professor X in mindset, was Locke's optimal choice.
Choosing Cordelia would allow him to complete this mission with 100% success.
Now?
Mission Name: "Let Go of That Witch!"]
Mission Basic Reward: "achievement points*5000," "potential points*500"]
Mission Bonus Mode: "Reputation Value!"]
Current Bonus Value: 90% (Max 100%)]
Mission Description: "Here it comes, the big one is here. In this World, you, who entered the supernatural realm because of Witches, swore to protect these poor and kind Witches. But now, bloody and cruel Witch hunters are still alive in this World. Tell them, Witches have protectors!"]
Mission Remark: "Settlement will occur when it is determined that Witches have a good living environment."]
Mission Remark 2: Dear, please pay attention to the question.]
Mission Remark 3: Three hidden missions have been completed. The Grand Slam reward for this mission can be claimed in advance. More or less will be adjusted during the final settlement.]
Locke sipped his wine, looking at Mission Remark 3 that popped up after he eliminated Fiona, and his thoughts stirred.
Achievement Point Mall.
Dimension Fusion Device (30% off): 500,000 achievement points + 500,000 potential points. Can locate a Dimension, devour it, perfect and expand it, avoiding detection by the Universe itself. Dear, this item is said to go well with the Talent Upgrade Card.]
Level 3 Talent Upgrade Card (30% off): 300,000 achievement points + 300,000 potential points. Can upgrade a Talent of Gold quality. Highest usable level is four.]
These were the two items refreshed by the 30% off treasure coupon given after completing the MI6 mission last time.
Locke felt... this damn system was waiting for him here.
No other reason.
Among the discounted treasures refreshed this time, besides regular items like health potions and tracking cards, there were many he liked, but only these two he could afford.
And.
Locke always felt that this thing was specifically targeting his savings.
Dimension Fusion Device?
He had just captured the dormant Salem Dimension.
Level 3 Talent Upgrade Card?
It just so happened that it could upgrade his Supreme Talent, Extraordinary, by one level, allowing the restless energy to open up a Dimension belonging to him.
"shit!"
Locke cursed inwardly: "Why do I feel like I've been set up?"