Ch: 396-403
Chapter 396: Spider-Gwen
How... Gwen looked down at the transparent fuzz standing up on the back of her hand again.
The next second.
The doorbell rang.
Gwen snapped back to her senses, stood up, and walked toward the door.
The White Spider in the glass tank squeaked and chirped. Then, with a sudden leap, it launched itself from the glass tank and landed steadily on Gwen's shoulder.
"Squeak squeak!"
The White Spider squeaked excitedly like a little mouse, moving restlessly on Gwen's shoulder as if it were reminding her of something: "Don't go, there's danger."
Gwen might still be ignorant of her abilities.
But... these abilities were provided to Gwen after the White Spider bonded its life with her. Naturally, the White Spider was well aware of such abilities.
There was danger.
When danger was about to arrive or was approaching, the White Spider could receive a warning in advance. Relying on this ability, although the White Spider race was a type of Symbiote in a sense, they had never been targeted by bad guys.
Because they could warn in advance and then run away.
However, this ability had no effect on people they recognized and trusted. It was because of this that this White Spider had been tricked and ended up on Earth.
Right now?
The White Spider, already bonded with Gwen, could also warn Gwen—who was practically her host now—of the danger and alerts she was about to face.
And the one ringing the doorbell was the danger.
But.
Gwen looked at the White Spider moving restlessly on her shoulder and smiled. "Do you want to come with me too? jelly, that's right. Be happy, don't be sad."
Well.
Gwen thought she had successfully cheered up the White Spider. She patted jelly, who was crawling all over her shoulder, then opened the door, preparing to take jelly downstairs.
But... after Gwen went down the stairs and saw the closed door, with a whoosh, her Spider-Sensestruck again.
Her hair stood on end!
Gwen stopped in her tracks. With a swish, she looked up at the door that had appeared in her sight, her brow furrowing slightly.
Something's not right.
Just then.
There was a thud outside, and then the doorbell rang again: "Ding-dong!"
Outside.
Wearing a hood and sporting a beard, Bullseye Lester expressionlessly snapped the neck of a Police Officer who had somehow appeared here from downstairs. He straightened his jacket and tossed the Police Officer directly onto the ground.
It was fine that a Police Officer had come.
This way, he could give the target requested by his employer an even better greeting.
As a qualified professional assassin, Bullseye Lester didn't actually have much integrity or bottom line. After all, fundamentally speaking, Lester was a self-taught professional assassin. Although he was getting a bit old, his professional ethics were more like those of a modern assembly-line assassin, rather than a workshop assassin trained by the older generation.
To put it simply.
After Locke took an order, he wouldn't choose not to kill just because the target offered more money. He had a very strong sense of contract. Once a contract was signed, even if the other party gave Locke two hundred million, nothing would change.
But... Lester was different. Like the new era of assembly-line assassins, for these people, if there was money, let alone selling their bodies, even their souls weren't a problem.
Just like Bullseye Lester. Originally, he had taken a contract to assassinate Kingpin. In the end, because Kingpin offered too much, he turned around, killed his employer, and then sold his body and soul to Kingpin, becoming a professional assassin in Kingpin's employ.
Over the years, while he might not have committed every evil imaginable, he was certainly steeped in crime. In all these years, Bullseye Lester had made a huge contribution to stabilizing Kingpin's position.
Bullseye licked his lips, snapped back to reality, looked at Gwen's Room, and rang the doorbell again.
"Ding-dong!"
"...Who are you?"
"Lester."
Bullseye looked at the shifting peephole and said with a smile, "I'm from the NYPD. Senior Superintendent Stacy asked me to stop by and check on you on my way home from work."
"Is that so?"
Gwen, who was looking outside through the peephole at Bullseye with his hood down, said suspiciously, "My dad sent you?"
It wasn't impossible.
In the past, when George and Helen went out for some couple time and Gwen stayed home to watch the kids, the patrol cars in front of the house would basically ring the doorbell every hour to check on her.
However.
Coming up to knock on the door directly was a first.
But it might also have something to do with her father's promotion.
Bullseye outside showed a kind smile. After all, there were no scars on his face, and when he smiled, he looked quite like a tough guy. "Yes, you can call Senior Superintendent Stacy to confirm. However, when I got off work, Senior Superintendent Stacy and Senior Superintendent Devoe were rushing off to a meeting."
Could I be wrong?
Is this a Detective who came up specifically to ask if I'm safe and try to suck up because of my dad's promotion?
Gwen thought to herself, "I'm fine, thank you."
She originally wanted to call George to confirm, but hearing Bullseye say that, as her father's devoted daughter, she had no intention of calling if she knew George might be in a meeting.
Bullseye heard the dismissal in Gwen's words and smiled, saying in a concerned tone, "When I came over just now, I noticed signs of climbing on the emergency fire escape at the back of the building."
Gwen was slightly taken aback. Just as she was about to follow the conversation as Bullseye expected.
Her nose twitched.
The smell of blood.
Gwen's nose sniffed, and then an image seemed to appear before her eyes—the scene outside the door.
Behind Bullseye, at the stairwell, there seemed to be a corpse leaning against the wall, with blood slowly flowing out from the person's stomach.
"What?"
"What's wrong?"
Gwen took half a step back in fright. Looking at the closed door, she frowned and said in a calm tone, "Thank you, I'll tell my dad. My boyfriend will be here in a while, and he'll help me check. Sorry for the trouble."
As she spoke.
Gwen quietly grabbed the mobile phone sitting on the bar counter.
But... "No signal?"
Gwen was stunned when she saw the prompt on the screen after trying to make a call.
"Jie jie!"
At that moment, Bullseye's voice outside also changed. It was no longer steady or even slightly reassuring, but a cold, sinister laugh.
Bullseye took out a signal jammer from his coat and said to Gwen inside the Room, "Little Red Riding Hood, be a good girl and open the door. Help me deliver a message to your father, and I'll leave right away. Otherwise..."
Gwen didn't wait for Bullseye to finish; she dashed up to the second floor.
There was a satellite phone in her Room.
After the poseidon incident ended, Pepper had given it to her as a gift. It used Stark's communication satellites. In Pepper's words, no signal jammer on the market could block it—at least, not without knowing the frequency of the Stark satellite signal.
"Hehe, don't blame me, little girl."
Bullseye heard the movement in the house and let out a cold laugh. He lifted his right foot and boom, kicked right at the door handle: "Boom!"
After three hits.
The door, which wasn't that sturdy to begin with, was kicked open.
If this had been the newly replaced door at Locke's Starlight Tower, which used the same model as a bank vault, Bullseye would probably have left a dent at most after kicking it for a day and a night.
With a bang.
After the door was blown open, it slammed hard against the wall.
"Jie jie!"
After Bullseye entered, he gave a cold laugh and looked toward the stairs leading to the second floor, shouting loudly, "Little Red Riding Hood, the Big Bad Wolf is in the house."
After saying that.
Bullseye even very politely closed the broken door behind him. Then, straightening his jacket, he whistled as if taking a leisurely stroll toward the stairs to the second floor.
"Little girl!"
Bullseye seemed to be already familiar with George's home, walking precisely to Gwen's bedroom where the door was tightly shut. "The Big Bad Wolf is coming in."
The next second.
Bang!
The door was kicked open once more.
But... the Room was empty.
"Hmm?"
Bullseye hummed, then turned his head to look at the stairs leading to the rooftop. "Little girl, the Big Bad Wolf is coming up."
As he spoke.
Bullseye stepped out of the Room, gave a weird laugh, and walked toward the rooftop in his handmade crocodile leather shoes.
In the Room.
Under the bed.
Gwen watched Bullseye disappear from the doorway out of the corner of her eye, one hand covering her mouth and nose, the other clutching the satellite phone she hadn't had time to dial yet.
However... after Bullseye disappeared from the doorway, Gwen didn't choose to immediately relax or make a call.
After all, who knew if Bullseye had really left.
Moreover.
Gwen held her breath, not daring to breathe as she watched the transparent fuzz standing up on the back of her hand. She could even hear Bullseye's footsteps as he climbed the stairs.
After a while.
Bullseye's footsteps gradually faded into the distance.
Only then did Gwen finally let out a sigh of relief, brought the satellite phone over, and quickly dialed 911.
Just then.
With a bang.
"Haha!"
Bullseye reappeared at the door with a swish. Looking down through the gap, he could see Gwen under the bed and greeted her with a smile, "So you were here, Little Red Riding Hood."
Gwen's eyes widened.
Bullseye stood up, grabbed the bed with one hand, his muscles bulging, and instantly flipped the entire bed over. Then, he reached out with one hand directly toward Gwen, who was lying on the floor.
Gwen was frozen in place.
The White Spider on her shoulder gave a strange squeak and bit down hard on Gwen's shoulder.
The next second.
Boom!
Three Hundred and Ninety-Seven, White Spider Gwen
Boom!
In an instant.
Just as Bullseye Lester's hand, reaching for Gwen, was about to touch her, the White Spider Jelly's thoughts raced, and then, making a decision, it hardened its heart, bared its fangs, and bit down hard on Gwen's shoulder.
Instantly.
A wave of unprecedented power suddenly emanated from Gwen, like a stun grenade exploding, directly sending Bullseye Lester flying, caught off guard.
With a loud crash!
Bullseye Lester was violently slammed against the wall, his face flushed, and he spat out a mouthful of fresh blood with a gush, then crashed heavily to the ground.
"WTF..."
Bullseye Lester was stunned and disoriented, barely managing to look up. Before his eyes, Gwen had vanished from the room, replaced by a milky white cocoon that appeared: "This is..."
In the Star Building.
Loki, who was lying in bed watching "Doctor Who" on TV, suddenly raised an eyebrow.
"Gwen?"
"..."
Inside the milky white cocoon, in a room that seemed to be milky white in every direction, Gwen, having come to her senses, was once again stunned: "Where is this..."
Gwen didn't expect a reply.
But!
"This is the Mind World."
"...Jelly?"
Gwen's eyes lit up as she looked ahead. From the milky white space, a cute, chibi-sized white spider slowly crawled out. She exclaimed in surprise, then looked around: "The Mind World? What does that mean? Did you save me?"
This time, it was the White Spider's turn to be curious.
"You... aren't curious why I can talk to you."
"No."
Gwen shook her head, smiling gently: "I already knew you weren't an ordinary spider. However, I know very little about the supernatural world. Loki knows a lot, so I asked him to help me keep an eye out for your kind. I just didn't expect, Jelly, are you some kind of druid?"
This world has vampires and witches.
What's so strange about another druid?
Moreover... Gwen had been to the Witch Academy and had specifically discussed some supernatural issues with Cordelia. And as for druids and such, Cordelia also said that anything with a mysterious aura in human legends actually has a prototype. For example, what humans call druids are actually more accurately called Grimm creatures.
After all, the form of life is actually fixed; except for cheaters, humans cannot turn into animals. At least, not acquired. And those who can inherently transform into animals are not humans; they were Grimm creatures from the beginning.
That terrifying man.
Listening to Gwen's words, the White Spider thought of Loki, who had given her a sense of danger, even more so than their gods, and then looked at Gwen: "I'm fading away."
Gwen was stunned: "What?"
The White Spider said: "If I don't do this, I can't protect you. If you die, I will also die. Only by protecting you, perhaps I still have a chance to revive. So, I have completely chosen you, Terran, Gwen Stacy. I choose you as my companion."
Gwen blinked: "Terra?"
The White Spider said: "You can also call it Earth, as you know it. In the universe, Earth is known as Terra."
A very distant planet where not even birds would bother to relieve themselves.
In short, Terra!
"Earth, the universe, you... aren't from Earth?"
"No, I come from a nebula very, very far from you."
The White Spider shook its head. Instantly, the milky white space transformed into the colors of the universe. Then, a series of images that the White Spider wanted Gwen to see appeared before Gwen's eyes.
That was the White Spider's nebula, teeming with countless white lights that looked like both gas and liquid.
And the white light, in reality, was the true manifestation of the White Spider's body.
According to the White Spider, they were called the Marvelous Race, a member of the Marvelous Race.
The images continued to unfold.
Gwen might have been curious: "Then how did you come to Earth?"
As the words fell.
The scene shifted, and Gwen saw that in the universe, the white light nebula seemed to interact with a black light nebula not far away. Then, the white light cluster and the black light cluster, seemingly entangled, were flung out like from a slingshot, and then, whistling, they flew far away.
The White Spider told Gwen that in her homeland, the mode of reproduction was actually similar to Earth's. Every two hundred years, when the white light star cluster approached the black light star cluster, it was their so-called breeding season.
Gwen seemed to guess the reason.
"You don't like him?"
"No, I do."
"Uh..."
Gwen blinked: "Then it's because..."
The White Spider said: "Because I found that he had the scent of other kin."
Gwen's eyes widened: "A scumbag?"
The next second.
Gwen nodded: "I support you. When you meet a scumbag, it's best to get away quickly, far, far away. If possible, it's best to slap him a few times."
Scumbags are the most disgusting.
Thankfully.
Loki wasn't a scumbag, not at all. In New Orleans, Gwen wasn't blind; she could see that the Hollywood actress Madison Montgomery seemed to have feelings for Loki.
But Loki, as she trusted, always maintained a safe distance from Madison Montgomery.
This was also why Gwen was willing to imagine with Loki what their life would be like after marriage. In a word, it wasn't that Gwen simply trusted Loki, but that Loki gave Gwen reasons to trust him.
The White Spider hesitated for a moment and shook its head.
Gwen was slightly taken aback.
"Not a scumbag?"
"No."
The White Spider quickly shook its head: "Actually, between our two marvelous races, the white light and black light can only pair once. Once successfully paired, they will never separate."
Gwen blinked: "Once, forever, then..."
Suddenly.
Gwen's heart sank.
The White Spider nodded: "Yes, he killed those previous kin, devoured them, attempting to evolve into a Weaver."
"A Weaver?"
"Yes, you can understand it as a Weaver, who enhances their power by hunting our marvelous race, and can upgrade them to a god."
"God?"
Gwen blinked: "Alright, and then what? You escaped?"
The White Spider nodded, and the scene shifted again. In the universe, the white light cluster and the black light cluster were intertwined, rapidly flying like meteors towards the far corners of the cosmos.
Gwen seemed to witness an exciting battle.
Until... Gwen saw that blue planet in the universe, designated as Planet Terra by the cosmic registry.
"Earth!"
"Thud!"
In the image, the white light cluster finally separated from the black light cluster just as it was about to fall to Earth. In fact, the white light cluster seemed to have even devoured a portion of the black light cluster, and then, whistling, it plunged into Planet Terra.
"Serves him right."
Gwen seemed to hear the black light cluster wailing as it fell. She said, addressing the White Spider, "Jelly, well done."
That's how you deal with a scumbag.
No.
That's how you deal with a scumbag who even hits women—don't be polite.
As Gwen spoke, she suddenly froze, looking at the White Spider, whose body seemed to be gradually turning transparent: "Jelly, why are you..."
The White Spider looked at Gwen, who was anxiously trying to walk over but found she couldn't move, and said, "You encountered danger, and I chose to merge with you."
Gwen listened to the White Spider's narration, her eyes flickering.
The White Spider told Gwen that if she didn't do this, if Gwen died, she would also die. But, if Gwen didn't die, then even if she died, as long as Gwen could return to the white light star cluster, she could be resurrected.
So.
As the White Spider's body gradually transformed, and the last trace of light merged into Gwen's body, it spoke its final words: "If possible, please revive me."
Gwen pursed her lips and nodded forcefully: "I will."
As the words fell.
The last wisp of white light, with a whoosh, drilled into Gwen's heart.
Thump!
Thump!
Thump!
In an instant.
Gwen could even feel the sound of her own heart beating, and in a deeper place, it seemed she saw the White Spider Jelly turn its head to look at her, showing a look of trust, peace, and encouragement, and then merging into her life.
The next second.
Bang!
Like the Big Bang, Gwen's life, at the moment of explosion, released immense energy, and then, at the level of life, underwent rapid reorganization.
Outside the room.
Although Gwen felt that a long time had passed in an instant, in reality, during the time Gwen was talking to the White Spider, only a dozen seconds had passed outside.
Bullseye Lester, leaning against the wall, coughed twice, spat out another mouthful of foul blood, wiped his lips, and looked at the glowing cocoon in the room with a shocked expression.
"This..."
Bullseye Lester frowned slightly, hearing the phone ringing downstairs. He took a deep breath, pulled out a pistol from his holster, his face cold, and charged directly towards the glowing cocoon in the room: "No one can hurt me."
But.
With a loud crash.
As soon as Bullseye Lester entered the room, he shivered, thinking, "Not good!" Instantly, he saw the increasingly bright white cocoon explode.
Boom boom boom!
Boom!
"Ah!"
Bullseye Lester was slammed against the wall again with a thud, creating another large dent in the wall, and then, with a splash, he crashed heavily onto the floor again.
Just by listening to the sound, one could tell that this time, he had at least broken two ribs.
What the hell.
Bullseye Lester struggled to get up, completely losing his mind. Grabbing his pistol, he fired directly into the room without even looking.
The next second.
"Screech!"
"Whoosh!"
"...What?"
398. Peak Debut
"What?"
Thud!
Ah!
Bullseye Lester felt a sharp pain in his right hand. However, his hands were those of a professional assassin; his pistol wouldn't be knocked away so easily. But as he looked at the object stuck to his hand and the gun, he was dazed: "Spider Silk?"
He looked closer.
A mass of white material resembling Spider Silk had tightly bound his hand and the pistol together.
Bullseye exerted force.
But the toughness of the Spider Silk was immense; he couldn't pull it apart.
The next second.
Thwip!
A white web expanded and shot directly out from the Room, heading straight for Bullseye Lester's face. Fortunately, Lester reacted in time and dodged it.
Thud!
Bullseye Lester, losing all composure, rolled on the ground in a mix of shock and fury. He quickly rose from the floor, and with a 'bang,' he tore through the webbing wrapped around his right hand. He looked up, filled with shock: "What the fuck? What the hell are you?"
He saw her!
Long legs encased in what looked like tight leather pants.
Her upper body was a mix of black and white, also in a tight-fitting suit that accentuated her exquisite figure.
Thick, smooth blonde hair flowed down. She wore a mask, looking like a woman who was a superhero with her own exclusive uniform.
What the hell is this?
Bullseye Lester felt suspicious.
Could it be... a superhuman?
shit!
"You..."
The mask on her face dissolved like melting snow, revealing the exquisite beauty beneath it.
Gwen, who had always been gentle and understanding, now had her beautiful face filled with rage. She looked at Bullseye Lester, who was crouching on the floor like a hyena, and said coldly, "Who are you?"
Bullseye Lester looked at Gwen's revealed face and suddenly let out a strange laugh.
He stood up.
He cracked his neck.
Crack, crack!
"This is getting more and more interesting."
Bullseye Lester gave a cruel smile and licked his lips. "Little Red Riding Hood has changed her outfit. It seems I won't be bored tonight."
So what if she's a superhuman?
It was no big deal.
He had killed them before!
These days, if you're a professional assassin—especially in New York—and you haven't killed a superhuman target, you can't really call yourself a famous assassin.
Look at the Peerless Assassin.
When did that guy become a famous assassin? Wasn't it after he judged that Drug Addict Barry on TV and forcibly turned him into a giant gray rat? That's when he became famous in the assassin world.
In New York, almost every named assassin has faced off against a superhuman and emerged victorious.
Bullseye Lester was no exception.
He had once encountered a Vampire. At first, that Vampire had truly shocked him, but in the end, he still slaughtered it.
And it was effortless.
"Only..."
Bullseye Lester tilted his head, raised the pistol in his right hand, and licked his lips while aiming at Gwen. "What kind of monster are you?"
As the words fell.
Bullseye Lester gave a sinister grin.
He raised his hand!
And fired immediately.
Bang!
Bang!
Jie jie!
Bullseye Lester watched the bullet leave the chamber and relaxed internally. Looking at the seemingly dazed Gwen opposite him, he sneered, "Doesn't matter. I'll find out while you're still warm."
What?
The employer, Kingpin, only asked him to send a greeting, not to kill?
Heh.
Whatever.
Bullseye was never an assassin with much integrity. He'd kill his employer for money. To him, an employer could make requests, but whether he followed them depended entirely on his mood.
Clearly.
Bullseye Lester's face wore an expression of frenzied excitement. After all, he didn't have many special hobbies or obsessions with cleanliness, so he had no psychological resistance to doing things 'while warm.'
However... the moment Gwen saw Bullseye Lester fire and the bullet leave the chamber, her expression changed instantly. The Spider Suit began to crawl from her shoulders, and with a hum, it formed a mask in the same black and white style, once again protecting Gwen's stunning face.
The next second.
Bullseye Lester let out a cry of surprise.
What?
He watched as Gwen suddenly turned into two afterimages. She bent down, leaned to the side, and dodged the bullet in a completely unscientific way. Bullseye's face twisted with even more ferocity, and he fired again violently.
But... the excitement on Bullseye's face gradually turned into disbelief. He seemed to freeze as he watched Gwen, amidst the hail of bullets, turn into a series of afterimages, swaying left and right. She dodged an entire magazine of bullets, and his expression completely solidified.
Gwen spun around.
She tapped her foot lightly on the ground and then appeared directly in front of Bullseye.
Gwen spun around.
shit!
Bullseye changed the magazine with one hand. Seeing Gwen so close, his pupils constricted. He threw a punch with his right hand like a trained fighter: "Die!"
The next second.
Boom!
Bang!
Gwen clenched her fist and punched directly against Bullseye's incoming right fist. With a bang, a sonic boom rang out. Her force arrived second but struck first, instantly followed by a scream.
It was Bullseye's.
Bullseye Lester felt as if his right hand had been severed. This time, he felt like he had been hit by a heavy truck. With a bang, a bone fragment from his right arm burst out at the moment of impact, and he was sent flying backward instantly.
Boom!
Bullseye crashed straight through the staircase railing. Then, with a muffled groan, he slammed into the bar on the first floor. George's liquor cabinet glass shattered instantly, and the fine wines inside were knocked over by the falling Bullseye. They fell to the floor along with him, crashing one after another.
Instantly.
The scent of alcohol filled the air.
What the hell?
Bullseye Lester couldn't help but howl in pain. Then, with a crack, he endured the intense agony and looked at the bone spur protruding from his right arm, his heart filled with shock.
How could her strength be so immense?
After all, Bullseye likely didn't know that a spider can lift objects 170 times its own body weight.
By the same logic.
The fact that Gwen's punch didn't blow Bullseye apart was actually because this was her first transformation; she wasn't familiar with it yet and couldn't perfectly control her strength. Plus, she had held back.
Otherwise.
Bullseye Lester should have been turned into pulp.
After all, Gwen still felt like everything was surreal; it was only her anger that was temporarily suppressing that feeling.
"jelly."
Gwen thought of jelly, who had just sacrificed itself to protect her, and how even after its death, it seemed to be helping her get used to these abilities. Beneath her mask, she pursed her lips, clenched her fists, and took a step forward.
Just now.
It was still jelly helping her, using its last remaining consciousness to give her an on-site tutorial, showing Gwen just how powerful she could be.
I must avenge jelly.
Whoosh!
Gwen took a step, and in an instant, she appeared at the top of the stairs. Then another step, turning into afterimages as she moved down the stairs.
"Monster!"
Bullseye Lester endured the pain in his arm, gritted his teeth, and raised the newly reloaded pistol with his left hand. Aiming at Gwen at the bottom of the stairs, he spoke again: "Die!"
He was panicking.
After all, even that Vampire hadn't beaten him this badly back then.
But.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
In Gwen's vision, the bullets traced slow trajectories through the air, like a max-level player in a beginner's obstacle course. Standing still, she perfectly dodged another magazine of bullets just by tilting her head, turning, and leaning.
She was completely unscathed.
Gwen looked back at Bullseye Lester. The latter had already stood up, seemingly unable to believe what had just happened. He swung his left fist, seemingly preparing to try once more.
Boom!
Gwen also threw a punch.
A plain, unremarkable punch.
fuck!
Almost the moment Gwen's right fist swung toward him, Bullseye's pupils shrank, his hair stood on end, and he instantly pulled back his left hand into a defensive stance, blocking his chest with his right arm.
Instantly.
Boom!
With a crash, Bullseye was sent flying into a nearby dining table. The table shattered instantly, and Bullseye was buried under the debris.
Thwip!
Boom!
Gwen extended her right hand, and with a 'whoosh,' a strand of white Spider Silk shot from her wrist, sticking firmly to Bullseye amidst the ruins of the table.
Bullseye looked at the Spider Silk stuck to his chest, which then suddenly pulled taut.
Alarm bells rang in his head!
The next second.
Thud!
Bullseye was thrown like a shot put, crashing into the kitchen. Instantly, there was another clatter of countless kitchenware breaking and smashing.
Gwen stepped forward, looking at Bullseye who had been thrown into the kitchen. "Who are you? Who sent you?"
"Ah!"
Bullseye felt as if his entire body was broken. He rolled over and barely dodged another strand of Spider Silk. Seeing the window nearby, his face covered in blood, he lunged toward it: "Crash!"
Gwen's expression changed.
She raised her right wrist.
The window shattered.
Thud!
Ha!
Ah!
He fell straight down from the fifth floor. In mid-air, while twisting to avoid the Spider Silk behind him, he hit an outdoor air conditioning unit, bruising his cheek. Then, with a 'boom,' Bullseye landed on a dumpster and screamed again.
But.
His years of professional experience were still useful; at the very least, nothing short of death could make him lose consciousness or give up.
Enduring the pain, Bullseye prepared to make a run for it.
Gwen quickly walked to the window and looked down.
On the ground, there was only a pool of blood. Bullseye had already vanished from sight... Monthly tickets!!
Recommendation tickets!!!!
Begging for them!!!
Xiaomi is going to training camp today and will be out on the 20th of next month. During these days, I will release the saved drafts on a schedule. If one isn't posted one day, remember to @ Chen Qiangweiin the group.
399. Locke: I'm Angry
Ran away?
But... it was useless.
Gwen's gaze shifted to an alley not far away. Her Spider-Sense had already locked onto Bullseye Lester, who was stumbling into the alleyway, face covered in blood, looking like a devil.
Just as Gwen was about to give chase, there was a thud, and she froze in place. It felt as if her adrenaline had just run out and was rapidly receding.
The next second.
Gwen slumped directly onto the messy floor. Her Spider-Suit quickly receded. At the moment she collapsed, an audi's door opened nearby.
Thud!
Locke stepped out of the car with an expressionless face. With a whoosh, a clone condensed on the audi's seat behind him and immediately drove off to pursue Bullseye Lester.
"Wooo! Wooo!"
As Locke reached the apartment entrance, the sirens of police cars could be heard approaching late once again. Glancing at the nearing police cars, Locke pushed open the apartment's main door.
Just moments ago.
He had been at home, preparing to go to sleep after finishing an episode of Doctor Who, when he suddenly felt a premonition. His heart skipped a beat, and then the M78 Nebula Dimension, which had already successfully gone public through a reverse merger, suddenly sensed something.
Gwen had disappeared.
Yes.
At that instant, Gwen seemed to have disappeared from Earth, or rather, from the space where Earthwas located.
But... before Locke could react, the feeling vanished. It seemed Gwen had returned.
Locke felt it was strange and tried to call Gwen's phone.
The phone rang, but no one answered at home. Just then, Locke's cell phone rang, detecting several emergency calls coming from Gwen's apartment building.
And so.
Locke rushed over immediately.
"Hmm?"
Locke stepped out of the elevator and saw a dead Police Officer leaning against the wall at the stairwell entrance, his neck snapped and a pool of blood beneath him. Frowning, Locke looked up at the partially open door to Gwen's home.
Bang!
Locke pushed the door open and immediately saw Gwen lying in the messy kitchen in her pajamas, seemingly unconscious. "Gwen?"
He stepped forward.
Locke hurried over and picked Gwen up. Feeling her breath, he confirmed it was a symptom of maladaptation caused by the evolution of her life level.
Simply put, exhaustion.
"Wait, hiss!"
Locke blinked.
Gwen's life... had evolved?
Locke raised an eyebrow and took a breath. However, thinking back to the Spider-Sense and other things that had appeared before, he was mentally prepared. Especially after catching a glimpse of the black-and-white Spider-Man figure in the kitchen and seeing the Room that looked like it had been shelled, he accepted it. "Gwen transformed?"
Goodfellas!
Locke thought to himself, and simultaneously felt a flash of relief.
Fortunately, Gwen had transformed.
The next second.
After the surprise and relief, what followed was Locke's uncontrollable rage.
His anger surged directly to the breaking point!
Very well.
I'll see who the hell is so eager to find death!
Ding!
Mission generating!
Mission Name: "I'm Angry!"
Mission Rewards: "50,000 achievement points", "50,000 potential points", "1x 60% Off Treasure Refresh Voucher"
Mission Description: "I think the mission name says enough."
Accept/Decline!
"Accept!"
Locke chose to accept the mission almost as soon as the system bar appeared. If the timing weren't so wrong, Locke would have already appeared before that guy fleeing in the car to have a good talk about life and ideals.
But it's fine.
Keep running. I want to see where you can possibly go.
Locke narrowed his eyes, sensing the vehicle his clone was tracking as it headed towards Brooklyn.
A murderous light flickered in his eyes!
Congratulations, your entire damn lineage is gone!
Locke calmed his breathing. To be honest, it wasn't that he hadn't anticipated someone might target Gwen.
But... this was the apartment of NYPD chief inspector George Stacy. If someone dared to come to the door, how was that any different from an old man hanging himself because he's tired of living?
Furthermore, even if someone dared to attack, Locke was certain he could arrive within five minutes no matter where he was. After all, even if George was weak, he should be able to hold out for five minutes.
And this time, Locke hadn't thought in other directions.
The reason was that he had been very well-behaved since returning recently and had no potential enemies who would target Gwen to get to him. Also, after Gwen's life aura vanished and reappeared, seemingly strengthened, he already had some vague guesses. So, to avoid making a fuss over nothing, Locke had driven here at over two hundred miles per hour.
The result.
"This time, even ten generations of your family won't be saved."
Locke looked down at Gwen, who was sleeping peacefully in his arms, her tension gone and her brow relaxed as she felt safe. He stood up and smiled. "I won't make the same mistake twice."
With that.
Locke turned, preparing to carry Gwen into her Room.
Just then.
With a thud.
George pushed the door open and roared.
"Gwen!"
"Shh!"
Locke made a silencing gesture. "Gwen just fell asleep."
George froze for a moment.
The next second.
George snapped back to his senses and hurried over. After confirming with his own eyes that Gwenwas just sound asleep in Locke's arms, he breathed a sigh of relief. Only then did he notice the state of the home.
Blood everywhere.
A total mess.
It looked no different from a bombed disaster area.
The wine cabinet by the bar was smashed, and the dining table was in pieces. Various red wines and whiskies were mixed together, flowing across the floor, creating a sense of intense visual conflict.
Then there was the kitchen and the shattered window, which looked like they had been blasted.
As for upstairs?
It was also a mess. In this state, it probably wouldn't be habitable again without spending a fortune and five or six months of repairs.
Gwen's Room was also in shambles.
Locke could only carry Gwen to George and Helen's Room. After laying her down and smoothing her hair, he confirmed she would be fine after some rest. Then he turned and tiptoed out of the Room with George.
Beckett, Ryan, and Esposito had also arrived.
"George!"
Beckett picked up an empty handgun from the floor and said to George as he came down the stairs, "How is Gwen?"
"Asleep."
George's face was grim as he stared at the dense bullet holes in the wall, the wrecked living Room, and thought of the officer dead at the door. He squeezed out two words through gritted teeth: "Hells Kitchen!"
To be more precise.
Kingpin!
Years ago, when George was still a Detective at a precinct, he had heard that a Chief Inspector at NYPDHeadquarters wanted to move against Kingpin. As a result, on the very night The Message got out, that Chief Inspector's home was visited.
The scene wasn't as visually shocking as this one.
But it was similar.
Afterward, that Chief Inspector seemed to back down.
Without a doubt.
This time, George felt he was receiving the same treatment.
George really wanted to rush straight into Hells Kitchen to Kingpin's manor, grab Kingpin by the neck, give him a brutal beating, and throw him into prison.
But... evidence!
George took a deep breath, murmured to himself, and then looked up at Beckett. "Did we catch the person?"
When they had come up, they had noticed the broken glass and the blood on the ground, and had immediately sent people to fan out and find the bastard.
Unfortunately.
Beckett shook her head. "No, but the Forensics Department is here and collecting samples. We'll catch him, George."
George nodded.
At the same time.
George looked at Locke beside him. "Did you see anyone when you came over?"
Locke snapped out of it. "No, I arrived five minutes before you. When I called the house and no one answered, I felt something was wrong, so I rushed over. As soon as I entered, I saw Gwen lying in the kitchen."
George pursed his lips.
"Where's your car?"
"I didn't drive."
"Hmm?"
Locke shook his head. "I lent the car to Carrie."
His car was currently chasing someone outside.
He couldn't exactly tell George that.
Just as he selectively told George what he had seen, in fact, what Locke had seen was quite a lot; at most, he had seen Gwen transform and someone fleeing into the night.
He certainly couldn't tell George about the former.
As for the latter?
Locke didn't want to tell George.
The reason?
Gwen was George's daughter, true, but Gwen was also his girlfriend and would be Locke's future wife.
So... Locke planned to handle it himself.
Evidence?
Locke glanced at George, who, after questioning him, was arranging for Beckett to bring people over to collect evidence. The corners of his mouth curled slightly.
This was another reason he didn't want to tell George.
It was the same old saying.
Only George needed evidence.
Locke didn't.
Only... Kingpin?
Heh.
Locke smiled inwardly. Since coming to New York, let alone dealing with Hells Kitchen, he hadn't even gone there. He had always maintained an attitude of not interfering with the city's gangs.
In fact, Locke even somewhat admired the self-made Kingpin. But admiration was one thing; Locke had never had dealings with him.
Now?
Kingpin?
Heh!
Four hundred—farewell, the down-and-out Dimensional God.
fuck!
fuck!
fuck!
In the speeding car, blood covering his face, Bullseye Lester—looking like a specter—used his still-functioning but grotesquely swollen left hand to hammer the steering wheel, spewing every curse he knew.
I miscalculated.
Completely miscalculated.
Bullseye had thought this would be a simple job—so simple he'd only asked Kingpin for a hundred-grand down payment.
And now?
It wasn't a question of how heavy the losses were; it was whether he could keep his life at all.
If it weren't for…
Gasping, Bullseye looked down at the slowly rotting wooden talisman at his throat, then up at the faint outline of Greenwood Cemetery dead ahead. "Almost there."
He could feel death coming.
He raised his eyes to the rear-view mirror.
What stared back was a man whose face had been split from right eye to corner of mouth, half the flesh flayed away; even movie zombies looked better.
He should already be dead.
Yet the talisman at his neck was keeping him tethered. Once it finished decaying, if he hadn't found help, he really would die.
The token wasn't some lucky find—it was the advance payment for another contract.
Now he was racing to that client's home; only that man could yank him back before he checked in at hell's gate.
And Bullseye was certain the man would save him—after all, every month he delivered the souls demanded, on time and without fail.
That person was the caretaker living inside Greenwood Cemetery.
William Blowers!
Boom—
Feeling his soul beginning to slip as the wood rotted, Bullseye stamped the accelerator, shot forward, and roared straight into Greenwood Cemetery.
Hmm?
Watching from afar—his real body busy looking after Gwen—Locke's clone cocked an eyebrow as Bullseye drove through the gates, wondering whether to summon his main self.
After all,
A clone was only a pretty porcelain doll: it had his skills, but zero special powers.
Put simply,
It was just for show.
Still… might as well take a look.
Stepping out, Locke conjured another clone to drive the audi—he'd told George he'd just lent it to Carrie—toward her house.
Interesting,
Locke's mouth curved. "George was wrong. Behind this isn't Kingpin—it's that down-and-out Dimensional God squatting on Earth."
The more he thought,
The more the theory fit.
Bottom line:
Locke couldn't see why Kingpin would bother. George was a chief inspector of NYPD, no longer some beat cop.
He wasn't small fry.
And Kingpin was smart—he knew how to play politics. After all these years without leaving a shred of direct evidence, would he be dumb enough to make a move like this?
If George had been investigating Kingpin, maybe.
But George had gone after the Gucci Family.
So Locke figured George's rage had simply clouded his judgment.
Seeing Bullseye race into Greenwood Cemetery, Locke's thoughts jumped straight to that down-and-out Dimensional God—he had to be the prime suspect.
Goal… wanting Gwen's soul?
For any Dimensional God, souls are the currency that fuels a dimension; the more souls, the stronger the realm.
Well, except Locke's M78 Nebula.
He'd already hustled his way out of serfdom and IPO'd in the M78 Nebula Dimension—born in Rome, so to speak. Given time and points, leveling up was easy.
Locke now suspected that when this down-and-out god had spotted him with Gwen, desire had flared, but knowing he couldn't handle Locke, he'd sent someone after Gwen instead.
Because once Locke's life tier had leapt, Gwen's core—though outwardly unchanged—had shifted as well.
Put it this way:
Ever heard of a god's woman staying an ordinary mortal?
Anyone?
Even if she started human, time and… motion… would have long since elevated her beyond that state.
So...Locke felt this possibility was the greatest.
Don't be fooled by the word god in Dimensional God—plenty of them are all brawn and no brain. Nightmare is a perfect example. Even among true deities, swine-stupid ones are hardly rare.
One sentence.
Western gods don't believe in I control my fate; they believe in destiny.
Gods don't rise through struggle; they rise through fate.
You're a god—born one.
You're mortal—give you endless years and you'll never cross that boundary.
Just look at Ancient One.
Ancient One thrashed countless Dimensional Gods. The corpses of fiends she killed orbit the Sun—no less than a hundred thousand, I'd say.
Yet Ancient One was still only a transcendent life-form, never broke into the Dimensional God category. Probably why the dimensions weren't shocked when she died.
After all, powerful as she was, she remained a transcendent life-form—nowhere near escaping the law of death.
Thinking this, Locke stopped and looked up at the brightly lit cabin he and Gwen had seen earlier.
At the cabin's doorway.
Just as he'd guessed, the car that had just driven in sat squarely at the entrance.
Thud!
Covered in dripping blood, Bullseye Lester didn't head inside after getting out; he veered off the porch, descended a set of steps, and entered the Underground Room—what looked like a crematorium.
Next second.
Bullseye glanced down at the wooden talisman at his neck—two-thirds rotted away. The decay halted the instant he stepped in, as if time had frozen, and he exhaled in relief.
Then.
Inside, he saw William Blowers in a suit, fastidiously running the furnace at midnight, muttering at the roaring flames while disembodied wails echoed. Bullseye hurried over: Save me.
William came to, glanced at the gruesome Bullseye, shook his head, and kicked a toolbox toward him, disgust plain: This is my turf; Hell can't claim you here. Look at yourself—revolting. Stitch it yourself and don't bother me.
Saying this.
William turned back to the furnace, resumed his chant, and the basement filled again with the shrieks of souls.
Bullseye dared say nothing. He dragged the box over, found a stool and a mirror, regarded his half-slashed face, took out needle and thread, and silently began sewing.
He'd come late to the trade, but a killer's skills were still skills.
Simple stitches, for instance.
Not pretty, but functional.
Twenty minutes later.
A crooked centipede of a scar now crawled across Bullseye's face.
Just then.
William finished his ritual, cleaned the furnace, shut it down, sniffed the blood-stench and reek of resentment, and switched on the purifier.
The purifier jumped from green to red and roared at full blast.
William, expressionless, wiped his hands with a towel, walked over, sat, and asked Bullseye, Tea?
As he spoke.
Without waiting for an answer he started brewing.
British tea.
Bullseye opened his mouth, still catching his breath.
William slid a cup toward him, sipped his own, then asked, Where did you find a soul this high-quality?
Panting, Bullseye said, I almost died.
William smiled: Bring me that soul. Don't worry—you won't die. You're my reaper; I'm in no rush to replace you.
Bullseye looked up at him.
But before he could speak.
William lifted his gaze toward the darkness where a figure slowly emerged.
Is that so?
Hands in pockets, Locke stepped from the shadows, face blank, and said to William, What if I want him dead?
401. Loan Expert Ancient One
"It's you."
"It's you?"
William Blowers and Bullseye Lester both turned their heads to look, their expressions varying.
Bullseye Lester stood up abruptly, and with a swish, he drew his gun.
But!
Locke's gaze shifted toward him.
Boom!
Bang!
Locke expressionlessly watched Bullseye Lester, who had been pinned directly to the wall by a single glance.
The shock in Bullseye Lester's eyes was almost overflowing.
This... how is this possible?
Locke had actually arrived just now, but for the sake of caution, he waited until his main body arrived before entering. Then, once he came in, it just so happened that he overheard the conversation between William Blowers and Bullseye Lester.
As expected.
He had guessed correctly.
Locke shook his head speechlessly in his heart, and couldn't help but sigh.
The next second.
Locke shifted his gaze away from Bullseye Lester.
"Wait..."
"No!"
Rumble!
In an instant, Bullseye Lester, who was pinned to the wall, suddenly felt his soul tremble with terror. His eyeballs almost popped out as he roared. In the next second, with a loud bang, he directly turned into a blood mist, which poured down like minced meat and debris.
He had no interest in talking to Bullseye Lester.
In short.
From the moment Bullseye Lester made a move on Gwen—no, from the moment Bullseye Lesterharbored ill intentions toward Gwen—his fate was sealed. And for the Bullseye Lester who actually acted on it, the ending awaiting him would only be more cruel.
death?
That was merely an extravagant hope.
I said I would exterminate ten generations of your clan, and ten generations of your clan are definitely doomed!
Locke extended his right hand, and the M78 Nebula Dimension abruptly appeared behind him. Immediately after, a soul passage appeared, attracting Bullseye Lester's soul, which was still in a dazed state in the air, preparing to pull it into the M78 Nebula Dimension.
However... at the moment the M78 Nebula Dimension appeared and prepared to pull him in.
William Blowers also moved.
Black mist rose into the air, and a scythe abruptly appeared, directly cutting off the pull.
Locke smiled.
His smile was brilliant.
"Interesting."
Locke's gaze fell on William Blowers, observing his true form: a figure completely hidden within a black robe, which seemed to be stuffed with countless souls. "I didn't originally intend to chop you up."
God could testify for Locke.
Locke was not a short-tempered person. When no one provoked his anger, he was quite refined and easy-going. He hadn't even said many curse words.
From childhood to adulthood, even simple curse words like 'fuck,' the number of times Locke had blurted them out could be counted on one hand.
Because, compared to trash-talking, Locke preferred to let his actions speak.
When he saw William Blowers at the time, he indeed had no other thoughts. After all, he didn't need to rely on devouring other dimensions to grow stronger, and at the same time, he wasn't the Sorcerer Supreme, so there were no conflicts of interest between him and the Endless Dimensions.
Furthermore.
The fact that this destitute Dimensional God could live on Earth showed that Sorcerer Ancient One was aware of it. Since the Sorcerer Ancient One hadn't said anything, and this destitute Dimensional Godhadn't provoked him, why would Locke have any designs on him?
Moreover... Dimensional Gods generally only exist with the concept of death; simply put, once a Dimensional God loses their dimension, their end is death.
And someone like William Blowers, who could continue to survive after losing his dimension and seemingly had another way to maintain his status as a destitute Dimensional God, was truly rare.
Simply put, their strength might not be great anymore, but when it came to the skill of survival, they were very powerful. Even for Locke, if he wanted to chop these people up, it might not be a hundred percent successful.
He might even end up like the Dimensional God who seized their dimension, thinking they had killed the opponent when in fact the opponent was still alive and well.
Locke didn't like such messy methods, and besides, as long as he wasn't provoked, he had no ill intentions toward William Blowers.
But now?
Locke smiled.
He was usually very refined and easy-going, but if someone went out of their way to provoke him, he wouldn't mind killing ten generations of that person's clan.
After all, if someone was rushing to find death, Locke had no reason to refuse.
Like right now.
"I didn't have any designs on you either."
"Then what is the meaning of this?"
William Blowers' scythe blocked the palm manifested by the M78 Nebula Dimension, preventing the palm from seizing the soul of Bullseye Lester, who had been killed by Locke and should have belonged to Locke.
"He is mine."
William Blowers said, "He works for me."
Over these years, the fact that he could quickly collect so many souls was largely due to Bullseye Lester's contributions.
Because his dimension was gone, and Hell already had its Masters, he couldn't personally take the field to collect souls and rebuild his dimension. Therefore, he needed a messenger to harvest souls for him.
Bullseye Lester was the messenger he had chosen.
For so many years, Bullseye Lester could be said to have harvested a soul every day. Since the year before last, he even guaranteed an income of over ten thousand souls annually. This was also why he had given a Soul Wooden Plaque to Bullseye as a means of protection.
The soul aura within that wooden plaque would maintain Bullseye Lester's life when he was supposed to die, giving him time to reach this side. Once Bullseye arrived and entered the dimensional domain he had painstakingly rebuilt over so many years, there would be no more danger to his life.
Locke listened to William Blowers' words and couldn't help but laugh.
Goodfellas.
When Locke was coming over, although he felt the probability of it being this destitute Dimensional God was higher than Kingpin's, he still hadn't figured out where this destitute Dimensional God got his nerve.
In short.
He was just a pauper.
While Locke was a bona fide Dimensional God.
Have you ever seen a beggar fight a billionaire and win?
So.
Although Locke felt the probability was high, he still wasn't certain.
But now?
There was no need for that.
The man had admitted it himself.
"Impressive."
Hearing William Blowers' words, Locke froze for a moment. Then, after snapping out of it, he pursed his lips and looked at William Blowers with a gaze of admiration. He nodded and even said in a slightly praising tone, "Not bad, you're quite the character. I thought you wouldn't dare admit it. I didn't expect this; I admire you for it."
Credit where credit is due.
William Blowers might not be the last, but he was the first to dare stand before him and say, 'Yes, it was I who instructed someone to move against your woman, so what?'
For this point alone.
Locke was very impressed.
Only... after Locke finished speaking, his tone shifted. With a rumble from the M78 Nebula Dimensionbehind him, Dark Zero condensed directly. "Who the fuck gave you this courage? Ancient One?"
The words fell!
Boom!
William Blowers' expression changed instantly. "Wait..."
Boom!
Instantly.
Within the M78 Nebula Dimension, the manifested Dark Zero opened its eyes, revealing blood-red pupils. With a rumble, endless energy erupted from Locke's body, directly descending with overwhelming force into William Blowers' dimensional domain. He grabbed William Blowers, who had just rushed to the edge of his dimensional domain, seemingly ready to flee at any moment.
With a splat.
William Blowers was grabbed by the collar like a rag doll and thrown directly against the wall by Locke.
Boom!
A crater appeared instantly in the wall.
With a thud.
William Blowers fell from the wall to the ground, the impact leaving him with a concussion.
"Heh."
Locke reached out with his right hand and tossed Bullseye Lester's soul directly into his M78 Nebula Dimension. Then, he straightened his collar and walked expressionlessly toward William Blowers. "Speak. Who gave you the courage? Ancient One?"
The fallen William Blowers struggled to get up.
"Achoo!"
Upon the Great Snow Mountain, Sorcerer Supreme Ancient One looked up at the exceptionally beautiful starry sky and rubbed her nose. "I didn't give him any courage. It's just that I borrowed a sum of power from him back then. Sigh, a debt of gratitude. He begged me, so how could I not agree to let him come over? But it's fine, go ahead and kill him. I don't know anything; I know nothing right now."
As a veteran deadbeat... pfft.
As a professional with centuries of experience in loans, the Ancient One's attainments in borrowing could be said to be unrivaled. She knew one principle well: of all loans, none are harder to refuse than a loan of gratitude.
Using a favor to borrow something is the hardest thing for people to say no to.
Just as this destitute Dimensional God had used a favor to beg her back then. Otherwise, would the Ancient One sit by and watch a destitute Dimensional God settle on Earth?
Furthermore... as long as it was handled properly, one could actually avoid repaying a loan borrowed using a favor.
So.
Ancient One watched the M78 Nebula Dimension as it rampaged through the Endless Dimensions, making a loud noise as it staged a backdoor listing. Looking at that Dark Zero with its eyes open, the corners of her mouth curled up slightly.
Earth had been her territory since ancient times. As long as Locke made a big enough scene, when she, the Master of the house, came to his door to borrow power, frankly, the Ancient One couldn't find a reason for Locke to say no.
Moreover... the Ancient One wiped her right hand in front of her, and the image shifted this time to Paris. Under the Parisian night, a woman was walking along the Champs-Élysées.
"Soon."
Ancient One thought silently. Then, as if remembering something, she took out a small notebook, flipped through it a few times, and her eyes lit up. "The closest loan that's about to default should be the one from the Underworld Dimension."
In the notebook.
There was a line: On such-and-such a date, borrowed a certain amount of power from the Underworld Dimension, agreed to repay in such-and-such a manner.
Then... Ancient One froze for a moment and turned to the next page.
"Hell Dimension?"
Ancient One blinked and looked toward New York City. "Oops, is the Hell Dimension loan about to expire too? shit, I forgot... Wait, maybe I don't have to return either of them, as long as I handle it properly."
Underworld Dimension: "..."
Hell Dimension: "..."
Four Hundred and Two: Killed the Wrong Person?
As a professional lending expert, Ancient One wasn't just professional in name.
Time.
Place.
Borrower.
Ancient One meticulously recorded each detail in her small notebook. After all, she had too many debts, and if she didn't manage them specifically, a slight oversight could easily lead to a default.
However, over the years, Ancient One had used various methods to eliminate some creditors whose debts were due and who wouldn't give her any time or excuse to negotiate. Most of the remaining ones were either easy to deal with or dimensions that had designs on her.
There were still a few hundred left.
The most recent ones were the Underworld Dimension, which sought to take over Earth through a loan, and the Hell Dimension, which loaned her money and successfully gained the right to use Earth for ten thousand years.
Currently, the debts from these two dimensions were about to expire.
Ancient One stroked her chin, looking at the contract she had signed with the Underworld Dimension. She thought of Witchfire, who had been brutally beaten in the Endless Dimension a while ago: "Perhaps it's time for a new operator."
"Achoo!"
...
Locke sneezed, rubbed his nose, and inexplicably looked eastward. This time, he was sure it was Ancient One, who lived in the Great Snow Mountain, talking about him.
No sooner had he finished talking about Ancient One than a curious gaze from the East landed on him.
If it wasn't Ancient One, Locke would take off his head and kick it like a ball.
However, this was normal.
After all, a fallen dimensional god was still a dimensional god. Without Ancient One's tacit approval or a pass, this fallen dimensional god couldn't possibly appear on Earth.
But after waiting for a while, Locke saw no sparks ignite. He chuckled lightly and refocused his gaze on William Burrows, who was struggling to get up from the floor not far away.
"Are you ready?"
Locke stood with one hand in his pocket, his right hand slightly raised. Behind him, Dark Ultraman Zero, with his crimson eyes open and fully in his dark form, stood with his arms crossed: "Given your courage, I will give you preferential treatment and not torture you."
It was still the same sentiment.
Admiration was one thing, but it didn't affect Locke's swift execution. If everyone were to follow suit in the future, what would become of it? Once was enough, but twice was too much.
"Cough, cough!"
At this moment, William Burrows, completely disheveled, struggled to his feet and extended his right hand towards Locke: "Wait, please wait."
In William Burrows' mind, ten thousand mythical beasts galloped past.
Good heavens.
Is it necessary?
If you want Bullseye Lester's soul, you can just say so; I'll give it to you. I was just saying, it's not like I absolutely have to have it. Is there any need to get so angry?
He looked so gentle and amiable, why was he so ferocious?
William Burrows was a bit confused. In the Endless Dimension, while it was true that whoever had the bigger fist was right, some superficial work still needed to be done.
For example, the order of precedence for souls.
Bullseye Lester's soul was sold to him first, and he had a contract with him. After Bullseye Lester died, the priority of his soul's ownership belonged to him.
The most important point.
If he couldn't even protect the souls of the practitioners with whom he had signed contracts, who would be willing to sell their souls to him in the future?
Although William Burrows had already lost his dimension, he had already begun to develop the prototype of a second dimension. As long as he was given some time and then went to collect the debt Ancient One owed him, his second dimension wasn't without a chance to re-emerge. So, he made a symbolic gesture.
In fact, if Locke had just insisted a little more, he would have guaranteed to let go and do Locke a favor, giving Bullseye Lester's soul as a gift of goodwill.
But who would have thought… Locke, without a word, directly manifested his dimension with force. In that instant, William Burrows felt that the souls he had secretly collected for at least ten years were directly shattered.
William Burrows was completely subdued.
"Wait, please wait."
"Hmm?"
"You want his soul, I'll give it to you. I'll give you his soul contract; he's yours."
"Ha."
Locke looked at William Burrows, who was panting as he spoke after getting up, and couldn't help but laugh: "Not bad, still so naive."
Now, there was no doubt.
It had nothing to do with Kingpin; it was this guy who instructed his soul walker to step forward and try to seize Gwen's soul.
After all, William Burrows had just personally admitted that the soul walker was working for him, and now he even thought that this matter was a very common occurrence.
Even like this, he still spoke so naively.
No wonder he ended up as a fallen noble.
Tsk tsk.
Locke shook his head, somewhat speechless.
Tasteless.
The next second.
Locke's right hand directly opened towards William Burrows. Behind him, Dark Ultraman Zero, with his arms crossed, forcefully suppressed the opponent's pitifully small dimension, which could only be considered a prototype.
Boom!
Locke's right hand directly gripped William Burrows' throat, and the crimson light in his eyes surged uncontrollably: "Where did you get the courage to lay hands on my woman?"
Woman?
What woman?
When did I… A trace of confusion flashed across William Burrows' struggling face, and then his thoughts raced, as if he had thought of something.
Shit.
An idea flashed through William Burrows' mind, and he instantly thought of a possibility.
But… just as William Burrows was about to speak.
"Bang!"
Locke's fingers instantly closed, and in that instant, a crisp sound rang out. Immediately, William Burrows, who was in his right hand, opened his mouth wide and then rapidly weathered away.
In an instant.
Sand fell like rain, pattering down at Locke's feet, almost instantly piling up into a small hill.
Behind him.
Dark Ultraman Zero also withdrew his large hand, looking at the fledgling dimension that had also been shattered into dust. He didn't even have the interest to absorb it and slowly receded.
A transparent black-robed soul floated out.
William Burrows.
Locke raised an eyebrow: "Death…"
No.
It was a wisp of the law of death.
No wonder.
Locke thought to himself. He had wondered why, once a dimensional god lost their dimension, 99% of them would disappear along with the disappearance of their authority.
But William Burrows was a dimensional god with a wisp of the law of death. His dimension seemed to be gone, but as long as the law was still there, William Burrows would not truly die.
After all, from a certain perspective, William Burrows was death itself.
The next second.
After William Burrows' law-soul emerged, he looked at Locke in front of him, seeming somewhat dazed, and then quickly turned and ran.
But… Locke's mouth curved upwards.
If it was a personal grudge just now, then now it was strictly business.
"Run?"
"Can you run?"
Locke didn't move, standing still. With a boom, endless energy surged instantly. In an instant, with Locke at the center, it roared out in all directions, covering the entire Greenwood Cemetery in just a moment.
"What's going on…"
Little Black, who had just followed his boss William Burrows and brought a corpse back from outside, was about to enter the cemetery. As he drove to the cemetery gate, he felt as if the front of his car had hit something. Then, a black light seemed to shoot out from the somewhat mirage-like Greenwood Cemetery, directly hitting him between the eyebrows: "Ah!"
A shrill scream.
Locke retracted his right hand, looking at the wisp of the law of death that was colliding back and forth in his hand, or more accurately, in the M78 Nebula Dimension, attempting to escape. His mouth curved slightly upwards: "I really didn't expect such an unexpected surprise."
Last time, the price of a wisp of the law of death refreshed in the Treasure Discount Store, even after a 70% discount, still required a full ten million achievement points and potential points.
Although this wisp of the law of death was slightly smaller, shorter, weaker, and more rubbish than the one sold in the store, it was still a law after all. It was worth at least a million achievement points and potential points.
What a pity.
It needed to be refined before it could be used.
This was why Locke had little interest in the items here and preferred to do quests to accumulate points, because purchased items didn't require any refining or time; they could be used directly.
Therefore, Locke always had one attitude towards things like Infinity Stones and other items.
Tasteless to eat, but a shame to discard.
"Forget it."
Locke raised his right hand and directly threw this unexpected white elephant into the depths of the M78 Nebula Dimension: "Let it refine slowly."
Compared to this wisp of the law of death, he was more looking forward to what good things the 40% off treasure refresh coupon from the quest would bring him.
But… "Wait!"
Locke raised an eyebrow, slightly stunned, looking at the motionless task that showed no signs of being completed. He blinked: "What's going on?"
He had chopped up that damn assassin, and his soul had been thrown into the deepest part of the dimension, where a specially prepared carnival awaited him.
The mastermind, this fallen dimensional god, was not only killed by him, but he even snatched a wisp of the law of death from him.
How… "Hiss!"
Locke closed his eyes slightly, his consciousness directly transforming into Ultraman Zero. Then, he pointed his finger directly at that damn assassin in the depths of the dimension. With a bang, Bullseye Lester's soul instantly turned to ashes amidst wails.
The next second.
Locke directly gasped.
"Good heavens!"
"Killed the wrong person?"
"This…"
Four Hundred and Three, Ancient 1: Renew the lease?
Hell's Kitchen.
Kingpin.
Bullseye.
Locke opened his eyes, his expression turning a little strange.
I picked a fight with the wrong person.
What now?
Locke looked down at the pyramid-shaped pile of sand at his feet, stroked his chin, and wondered, "Can this thing be reassembled?"
Probably not.
William Burrows' law had already been suppressed by him, and, although it seemed he had picked a fight with the wrong person, in a way, Locke hadn't picked a fight with the wrong person after all.
One sentence.
Locke had said he would make this damned guy, who dared to assassinate Gwen, pay with his entire clan.
And Bullseye Lester was William Burrows' apostle, a disciple, so the master-disciple relationship was included in that 'entire clan'.
So... Locke came to terms with it after a moment of thought.
Perhaps this was what they called a fortunate mistake.
William Burrows still had to die; it was just that the reason used to kill him was wrong.
But it didn't matter.
Some small details weren't worth dwelling on.
Just as Locke himself described himself, he was often quite refined and easygoing.
But... "Kingpin?"
Locke's mouth curved upwards, and he turned, vanishing from the spot: "You must have a death wish! Who gave you the guts to do something like that?!"
Boom!
Locke's figure appeared directly in the night sky, and the next second, a flash of light, and he vanished again!
His M78 Nebula had already invested in the Salem Dimension and gone public through a shell company. Whatever abilities the Salem Witch possessed, he naturally would too.
Teleportation?
Is it that hard?
"Ah!"
Inside the hearse parked at the entrance of Green-Wood Cemetery, a wail, followed by Little Black, who had just been knocked unconscious by an unknown object, suddenly jolting awake from his coma, then abruptly sitting up, hitting his head on the roof of the car, and letting out another shriek.
The next second.
Little Black unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the car door, and rolled out onto the ground like a tumbling gourd, seemingly trying to extinguish something.
After a while.
Little Black got up from the ground, gasping for air, his thick lips like sausages, his eyes staring blankly in the direction of Green-Wood Cemetery.
Accident.
Death.
Soul.
Dimension.
"This is..."
Little Black's dilated pupils gradually focused, and then, boundless ecstasy surged into his heart: "This is... a fortuitous encounter, my fortuitous encounter?"
The next second.
Before Little Black could even prepare to burst into laughter, endless black mist began to rise from the ground, followed by a middle-aged man wearing a top hat, carrying a gentleman's cane, and even wrapped in a scarf, appearing directly in front of Little Black.
"It's you, stealing my soul?"
"Huh?"
Little Black was slightly stunned. He didn't know why, but upon seeing this man, although he swore he didn't know him at all, his name suddenly appeared in his mind.
Mephisto.
Not good, run away quickly.
Little Black got up, instinctively wanting to run.
But!
Mephisto snorted, tapping his cane on the ground. Immediately, a pair of demonic claws suddenly appeared on Little Black's feet, grabbing his ankles and making him fall face first.
"Interesting."
Mephisto felt the residual fluctuations of the death law, which shared the same origin as his, on Little Black's body, and slowly walked over: "Who gave you the audacity to steal my souls on my territory?"
Under normal circumstances, Mephisto's Hell Dimension had three life planets whose souls he could harvest, and Earth, for Mephisto, was mostly just a playground, not considered his ranch.
After all, unlike the other two ranch-type life planets, Earth wasn't entirely under his control.
The Sorcerer Supreme, the Ancient One, was the true authority on Earth. However, a long time ago, Mephisto had used the power of Hell to sign a contract with the Ancient One, exchanging it for a ten-thousand-year right to use Earth.
During these ten thousand years, Mephisto's Hell Dimension was the sole distributor of Hell on Earth. The souls of the living would eventually return to his Hell. Simply put, he monopolized Earth's souls.
But there was a ten-thousand-year limit.
Of course, Mephisto didn't care about this. Anyway, he had two ranch life planets to continuously harvest souls from. Earth was merely something he acquired when the Ancient One came to him for a loan and he didn't want to be taken advantage of. Under normal circumstances, Mephisto would at most come here to have a drink and amuse himself.
After all, the other two planets were his pastures, and the lives on them were like pigs and dogs in his eyes. But because Earth had a different attribute, Mephisto didn't mind having some relations with the lives here when he was drunk.
He even wasn't concerned about how many souls Earth brought in; otherwise, he wouldn't have allowed the demons of Hell to come up and compete for souls here.
As long as the demons of Hell didn't run to his exclusive life pasture planets to cause trouble, Mephisto didn't mind.
But... just now.
Suddenly.
A large wave of old, ancient souls suddenly surged into the Hell Dimension. In an instant, Mephisto sensed it. When he arrived here, and saw Little Black in front of him, along with the aura of a law from another Hell Dimension, which shared the same origin as his, he couldn't help but smile.
While he didn't mind the demons of Hell coming to Earth to earn souls by their own means, he did mind other dimensional demons, or other dimensions themselves, coming to Earth to earn souls.
Everyone in the boundless dimensions knew that for these ten thousand years, the souls generated on Earth belonged to him, Mephisto.
And now?
Someone from another dimension actually came to steal his souls.
What was this called?
This was practically slapping him in the face.
Mephisto would never allow such a thing to happen.
"Boom!"
"Ah!"
Mephisto tapped his cane again, and the demonic hand directly grabbed Little Black's neck, lifted him up, and then moved him in front of himself: "Tell me, don't you know that Earth is my monopoly? Who gave you the audacity to come to my territory? Tell me, who is it?"
He could tell at a glance that the dimensional god attached to Little Black's body was already on its last breath.
However... he wasn't interested in who had crippled this dimensional god, just as he wasn't interested in who had beaten his foolish son, Blackheart, three times. But when the matter touched his bottom line and his reputation, he became very interested.
Furthermore.
The person who crippled this damned thief hadn't stolen any of his souls.
Little Black's eyes changed.
In the darkness.
"Mephisto..."
Little Black's voice shifted, then became somewhat ethereal, seemingly William Burrows' voice: "Don't kill me, it's Gu..."
"Crack!"
"Boom!"
Mephisto let go and stepped back.
With a rumble.
A sudden clap of thunder exploded, and then, Little Black in front of him was instantly reduced to ashes. Even William Burrows' last consciousness was directly shattered and killed.
Mephisto grabbed with his right hand, collecting the residual law directly into his hand, then opened his wide mouth and threw this residual law through a channel into his Hell Dimension.
The next second.
Mephisto looked at the nearby shattered glass-like space, from which a yellow-robed sorcerer emerged. He politely tipped his hat: "Good evening, Sorcerer Supreme."
"Good evening, Lord of Hell!"
The Ancient One walked out with a faint smile, her hands behind her back, and looked at the pile of ashes on the ground, her face beaming with a smile like a scoundrel...Pooh, like a debtor seeing a sugar daddy: "Thank you, Lord of Hell."
Mephisto's expression froze slightly.
The Ancient One smiled: "This dimensional god had just infiltrated Earth not long ago. At the time, I was witnessing the resurgence of an ancient dimension in the boundless dimensions, so I didn't notice and he took advantage. Fortunately, the Lord of Hell found him and helped me judge him."
Yes.
That's how it was.
Perhaps it wasn't before, but just now, the Ancient One had slightly modified reality through the timeline. Now, what she said was the truth, and the only truth.
What, she let him in?
That's impossible.
Would she, the Ancient One, the Sorcerer Supreme, the boss of the Sanctum Sanctorum, the sole designated authority on Earth, do something so undignified? Not to mention taking out loans everywhere and making herself look like a online loan maniac.
Mephisto listened to the Ancient One's words and couldn't help but narrow his eyes.
He felt the Ancient One was trying to fool him.
But... Mephisto looked at the corpse, which was now dead and beyond proof, and besides the strong resentment nearby, there was no other evidence.
This woman is truly ruthless.
Mephisto looked at the Ancient One opposite him, who was smiling gently and kindly, and thought to himself. Then, he remembered the countless demon gods whose bodies, if strung together, could circle the solar system several times, brutally murdered by this woman over the years, and he felt relieved.
The next second.
Mephisto gave the Ancient One a look that said, "You know what's really going on": "I still have a hundred years of usage rights on Earth."
The Ancient One nodded: "I know. So, Lord of Hell, are you considering renewing the lease with me?"
Mephisto opened his mouth.
What the hell is 'renewing the lease'?
I'm warning you, my rent is still due in a hundred years. Before then, you can't just bring in new tenants.
As for renewing the lease?
Mephisto said expressionlessly: "The Underworld Dimension has already told me they've booked with you. If I renew, how will you explain it to the Underworld Dimension?"
The Ancient One's face was full of smiles: "Is that so?"