136. Never Drag Out a Fight When You Can Insta-Kill
The lowest deck of the cruise ship had been completely flooded.
But... Locke stared at the stairs leading to the last deck not far away, and the seawater that had flooded nearly half of this level, finding one thing rather puzzling.
Why hadn't this ship sunk yet?
"Splash!"
The seawater surged, and within it, faint traces of tentacles flashed past. As a roar echoed from beneath the water, the tentacles churned the sea, seemingly saying to Locke, "If you've got the guts, come down here."
Locke took a step forward.
His six senses blared a warning.
Locke remained silent for a moment, then took another step forward until his toes could just barely touch the seawater.
The warning from his six senses vanished instantly.
The reason?
Locke had switched classes.
The Locke who took the first step was Assassin Locke, but the Locke who took the second step was the one who had switched to the Witch class.
To Assassin Locke, his six senses felt a major crisis and signaled a warning.
But to Witch Locke, his six senses felt absolutely nothing, so naturally, there was no warning.
"Dammit!"
Locke looked expressionlessly at the slowly rising sea level before him, his mood very displeased. "Of all the damn ships you could have chosen, you had to pick this one. You really must be tired of living."
The reward of 5,000 achievement points and 5,000 potential points was not a small amount.
Though Locke had said he would never switch to the Witch class unless absolutely necessary...
Right now?
It was absolutely necessary.
To complete this mission, he either had to rely on his Assassin skills and Tenacity talent to engage in a near-death struggle with this monster underwater on its home turf...
...or switch to Witch for a long-range attack.
Which to choose?
Locke wasn't a fool; he was a very flexible person. Under normal circumstances or in daily life, nothing could make him switch to the Witch class.
Besides.
This was just a Witch class; it wasn't like he was actually turning from male Locke into female Locke.
When you clearly have the power to insta-kill an opponent, choosing not to for some reason and playing a war of attrition instead means either the opponent is your lover or someone's IQ has dropped.
Locke bent down and reached out, placing his hand into the seawater.
The next second.
My energy! It's endless!
Boom!
Extraordinary!
The endless energy in Locke's sea of consciousness was released instantly, like a spider web, swish-swish-swishing as it left his fingertips and rapidly spread out in all directions.
Buzz!
Locke closed his eyes slightly, and an image appeared before him.
In the hold of the argo, a massive breach had appeared in the hull. There, a giant, flailing, and terrifyingly hideous mutant octopus waved its endless tentacles.
In the hold, in areas not submerged by seawater, there were puddles of sulfuric-acid-like liquid, along with countless crew members who hadn't been consumed yet, stuck in various corners by that same liquid.
The endless wails and agony were actually suppressed by the mutant octopus's rhythmic breathing.
Even Locke could only hear the octopus's roars, failing to hear the endless wails and cries of pain.
At the same time.
A surge of extraordinary energy erupted from within the mutant octopus and was captured by Locke's endless energy.
Locke wasn't surprised by this at all.
A normal mutant octopus might be able to smash through a hull, but it would have no way of capturing a ship's crew. If this mutant octopus possessed extraordinary energy, it wasn't just a normal mutant; it was one with its own consciousness that could use its tentacles to control humans for attacks.
"Roar!"
With most of its body underwater, revealing only its mouth and massive head, the mutant octopus let out an excited and angry roar: "Come down, come down! I'm going to eat you! I'm going to melt you alive!"
Locke's brow twitched.
The next second.
Locke chuckled softly. Releasing his endless energy freely, he quickly formed a perimeter in the water, slowly surrounding the exposed parts of the giant octopus.
"Eat me?"
Locke opened his eyes and looked at the countless tentacles hidden underwater, waiting for him to enter so they could ambush him. His lips curled slightly. "I'm afraid you don't have that big of an appetite."
With a thought.
The endless energy erupted directly.
Pfft!
Inside the bottom hold, a thick spray of blood and countless bits of flesh instantly exploded in all directions like a bomb.
Splat, splat, splat!
Blood and flesh rained down. In an instant, the green blood and filthy chunks of meat contaminated the water's surface.
Locke withdrew his right hand, watching the strangely colored blood spread toward him, his lips curling into a smile.
Ding!]
Mission Complete: "Deep Rising"]
Mission Rewards: achievement points * 10,000, potential points * 10,000]
Hidden Mission Reward - First Extraordinary Battle: "achievement points * 5,000", "potential points * 5,000", "Mysterious Item Chest * 1"]
Current status refreshed!]
Name: Locke Broughton (Unique Player)]
Class: Witch (Switchable to Ordinary Assassin)]
achievement points: 108,000 (Can be used to purchase items in the Achievement Shop)]
potential points: 85,000 (Can be used to upgrade owned skills)]
He stood up.
After switching his class back, Locke smiled.
That's it?
Locke stared at a large eyeball floating over from the sea surface.
He drew his gun with his right hand!
Bang!
With the sound of a gunshot, the mutant octopus's large eyeball was blown apart.
"There shouldn't be any more problems this time."
Locke put away the silver dancer and turned to head back up, smiling helplessly to himself. "I clearly came out for a vacation, but I ended up completing a PUBG scenario first and then a monster-slaying plot."
After going back this time, I'm never going out to sea again, no matter what.
I'll just focus on school and grinding missions in peace.
Locke thought to himself.
On the deck.
Locke controlled the clone that had come down to take a leak, waited for the right moment to swap places, did some cleaning, and then walked back onto the deck.
What had just happened at the bottom of the ship hadn't been heard by Gwen up on the deck.
Because... only the monster's voice had been transmitted to the deck through the metal.
Just moments ago, the group had looked at each other in bewilderment while listening to the monster's roars.
Now, it seemed to have quieted down.
Happy was standing at the front, holding his pistol with a vigilant look, staring at the fuel delivery pipe where the mutant octopus's tentacles had emerged earlier.
Everyone leaned against the raised surface of the helipad on the deck.
After Locke returned, Gwen glanced at him and smiled slightly, then continued to lean against his shoulder, closing her eyes tiredly.
They hadn't slept all night.
Though they didn't know why the mutant octopus at the bottom of the ship had stopped howling, its silence was a good thing. The right choice was to seize the time and recover their strength.
Last night's survival struggle alone had pushed their physical limits to the brink.
Locke looked at Pepper nearby and asked tentatively once more, "Is there a signal yet?"
Pepper, clutching the tablet, looked up at Locke. "Same as before, no... wait, there's a signal?"
Everyone's heads snapped up to look at Pepper.
Looking at the satellite signal displayed on the tablet, Pepper shook Tony, who was somehow still asleep beside her. "Tony, look, is this a signal?"
Gwen, who had been sleeping on Locke's shoulder, was now completely wide awake as well.
Tony, just about to vent his morning grumpiness after being shaken awake, saw Pepper thrust the tablet in front of his face, excitedly saying there was a signal.
Tony was also stunned. He grabbed the tablet, saw the signal, and quickly opened all the programs for signal reception and connecting to Jarvis that he had closed earlier to save power.
Instantly.
Jarvis came online.
"Sir, it is wonderful to see your signal return."
"Jarvis, locate my coordinates and get here fast!"
"Understood, locating..."
"..."
The tablet screen went black instantly!
It ran out of power.
Motherf*cker!
Tony's brow twitched as he looked at the dead tablet, barely restraining the urge to smash it on the ground.
Dammit.
After I get back this time, I must develop a miniature Arc Reactor.
Tony Stark thought to himself.
However... though the tablet was dead, everyone remained excited.
The reason was simple.
It had been so long without a rescue team. Although they had said their disappearance must be known to the outside world, that was just speculation without direct evidence.
But just now, everyone had heard Tony's conversation with Jarvis loud and clear.
Gwen looked at Locke excitedly. "Great, we're saved! I just hope that mutant octopus doesn't come out to cause trouble again."
Locke smiled.
Silly girl, I've already taken care of that mutant octopus.
On a quinjet high in the sky.
"Officer."
The S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent piloting the quinjet looked at the radar and satellite signals that had restored for some unknown reason. He turned to Natasha and Hill in the back and said, "Radar and satellite signals have been restored."
Hill and Natasha exchanged a look. "Restored? Did we fly past it again?"
The S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent shook his head. "No, it seems whatever was interfering with the magnetic field here has suddenly vanished."
As he spoke...
The satellite phone in Hill's hand, which had lost its signal since she boarded the plane, rang once again.
"This is Hill!"
"Officer."
A S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent at the New York Operations Centersaid, "The New York 911 dispatch center just received a call from Stark Industries. They've made contact with Mr. Tony Stark. I've already sent over the coordinates."
Hill put down the satellite phone and looked at the pilot.
A coordinate with a flashing red dot popped up on the quinjet's central console.
It was... very close to them!
137. Tony's Luck
On the deck of the Argo.
Everyone stood in a line, leaning against the helicopter pad.
Cindy looked up at the sky. "I've made up my mind."
Gwen, who was leaning on Locke's shoulder, looked at Cindy, who had spoken. "What have you made up your mind about?"
Cindy snapped back to reality. "My dream wedding was originally on a yacht, but I've changed my mind. From now on, if my fiancé dares to suggest our wedding be on a yacht, I'll punch his head in."
They finally went on a cruise, and it turned out like this.
Go on another cruise?
Only if I've lost my mind.
"What about you, Gwen?"
"What?"
Gwen paused slightly, then blinked, glancing at Locke intentionally or unintentionally, and smiled, saying, "I'm not afraid of the sea. In fact, it's precisely this fear that makes us constantly want to continue exploring, isn't it?"
Cindy shook her head. "I mean, do you have any feelings about it?"
Gwen leaned on Locke's shoulder, thought for a moment, then sat up and looked at Locke. "Feelings? Yes, Locke proved to me that he can protect me very well."
As she spoke,
Gwen looked at Cindy, who was wearing Kahn's discarded jacket, and smiled, "Didn't Kahn also prove that he's reliable?"
Kahn, wearing a long T-shirt, smiled.
Cindy glanced at Kahn.
The next second,
Cindy kissed Kahn on the cheek, then looked at Jennifer over there. "Jennifer, what about you?"
"Me?"
"Mmm."
Jennifer looked up, glanced at Christine next to her, and smiled, "Actually, just now in the ballroom, Christine proposed to me, and I said yes. So, I want to marry Christine, does that count?"
Everyone was slightly stunned.
"Oh, for God's sake!"
"Is that true?"
"Oh, God."
"Congratulations."
The women, including Pepper, immediately congratulated Jennifer after hearing her words.
Locke and Dylan, however, were not surprised at all.
After all, when Jennifer told her father Robert, Locke and Dylan were right there. However, at the time, they were busy with the swing ride and a desperate escape, so they didn't tell anyone else.
Cindy and Gwen looked at each other and said to Jennifer, "We'll both be your bridesmaids."
Jennifer smiled. "Alright, it's a deal."
Christine next to her was trembling, because he could feel the two sharp gazes of his future father-in-law, the former mayor of New York, Robert, falling on him.
However... Robert looked at Christine, and his gaze gradually softened from its sharpness. After all, during their survival on the Poseidon, Christine had shown the responsibility a man should have.
With that topic, the atmosphere on the deck seemed to gradually liven up.
Cindy then curiously looked at Pepper Potts over there. "Ms. Potts..."
Pepper interrupted directly. "Just call me Pepper. After all, isn't that what we mostly called each other when we were on the Poseidon?"
Cindy smiled. "Alright, then Pepper, what about you?"
Pepper smiled. "A promotion and a raise, a vacation, and some time for myself."
She was about nineteen when she joined Stark Industries as a member of Howard Stark's secretarial staff after an interview with him. Then, after Tony Stark took over Stark Industries, she became Tony Stark's secretary. For all these years, she rarely had time off for herself.
So... yes.
Pepper planned to make some time for herself. At the moment the Poseidon capsized, Pepper suddenly realized that her memories seemed to only consist of work, Tony Stark, and... his revolving door of women.
Cindy nodded, then looked at Maggie.
Maggie gave a carefree smile, looking at Connor, who was sleeping in her arms. "Raise Connor, and if possible, find someone and settle down."
Dylan next to her stirred.
Locke caught Dylan's movement out of the corner of his eye and shook his head, a little speechless.
Maggie was very beautiful.
And she was a perfect wife, but if Locke had to choose, he would also choose Maggie. However, if she came with someone else's child, Locke would hesitate.
But Dylan seemed a little excited.
That's right.
This guy didn't like little girls back in Las Vegas; he liked older women. Once, when he won money, he even planned to find an older woman for Locke.
Locke at the time wished he could smash that guy's head in. God knows, he was only fourteen then.
Fortunately,
Locke wasn't an easy person.
After the ladies finished,
It was the gentlemen's turn.
The moment Kahn felt Cindy's gaze on him, he already blurted out the correct answer: "Whether it's a proposal or a wedding, it will only be on land, not at sea."
Everyone burst into laughter.
Locke even shook his head, a little speechless. However, in the course of Cindy and Kahn's relationship, Cindy seemed to have been in a dominant position from the start.
Hopefully, Kahn won't stand in court in the future, accusing Cindy of domestic violence.
Cindy rolled her eyes at Kahn, then gave him a look that said he got it right, and then looked at Locke. "Locke, it's your turn."
Locke smiled. "Me?"
Cindy nodded. "Yes."
Locke thought about Gwen's answer just now and smiled, "Good good study, day day up!"
Cindy was slightly taken aback.
Gwen also got up from Locke and looked at him curiously, blinking. "Study hard? Make progress every day?"
Locke raised an eyebrow at Gwen. "Yes."
Gwen smiled. "I probably guessed it, but I didn't see you choose Eastern language as your foreign language."
Because of the homophonic relationship with Locke's license plate, Gwen got along well with an international student from an Eastern country and would watch Eastern language teaching videos when bored.
A gifted student learns anything quickly. That's what a gifted student is.
Locke was a pseudo-gifted student.
Gwen relied on talent, Locke relied on cheats.
Cindy listened to Gwen's translation and shook her head, but at least Locke had given an answer, so she let Locke off the hook and her gaze fell on the next person, Christine.
Christine scratched his head, looked at his fiancée who was staring at him, then looked at Robert over there, and said, "After we go back, I will continue to prove to Mr. Ramsey that I can protect Jennifer well."
Cindy and the others looked at Robert, who was pretending to be asleep, then gave Christine a thumbs-up gesture, and then their gaze immediately shifted to Dylan, who seemed to be impatient.
Dylan glanced at Maggie next to him and said, "I've been wandering in Las Vegas for so long, I plan to see if I can settle down."
Then you'll be eating dirt.
Locke thought to himself, looking at Dylan, whose true intentions were elsewhere.
Cindy and Gwen exchanged glances, seemingly also seeing Dylan's true thoughts, but said nothing. After all, Dylan had been holding Maggie's son, Connor, the entire time during the escape from the Poseidon.
And... after escaping from the Poseidon and getting into the lifeboat, it seemed Dylan and Maggie even passionately kissed in excitement.
But it was too dark at the time to see clearly.
Cindy then looked at Robert.
Robert seemed to be asleep.
Cindy shrugged.
Dylan, however, directly pushed Robert next to him. "Hey, it's your turn, buddy."
Robert, failing to pretend to be asleep, opened his eyes and gave Dylan a somewhat resentful look. Then, seeing everyone who had come out of the Poseidon looking at him, he sighed, "I'm calculating how much money is left in Jennifer's wedding fund, and whether I should deposit more after we get back."
Everyone was slightly stunned.
The next second,
Jennifer was the first to snap back. "Dad, does that mean you agree to Christine?"
Christine at this moment was also in a state of daze brought on by immense excitement.
Then,
there was another round of congratulations.
But... Tony and Happy's side was rather quiet.
Happy looked at the harmonious atmosphere and wanted to join in. "Darn it, why don't they ask us?"
Tony glanced at Happy next to him. "They're celebrating surviving a disaster. What are you celebrating?"
Happy sighed. "I wish I had been on the Poseidon at the time."
Tony felt a faint ache in his trigeminal nerve.
They should be grateful that they weren't on the Poseidon at the time.
In fact,
they should also be grateful that because Tony wanted to go back for Pepper, they also escaped the Argo's disaster.
Thinking about it this way,
Tony looked over at Pepper Potts, who was integrated with the others. His usually cool expression, however, couldn't help but show a very small but clearly visible smile.
"You have your lucky goddess."
Tony's peripheral vision fell on Locke, who was leaning over there, showing no sign of panic even when killing sharks. He thought of Locke's words at the card table, "Have you found your lucky goddess, Mr. Stark?" Then Tony's gaze fell on Pepper Potts. "Yes, I think I've found my lucky goddess."
Because of Pepper's reminder, Tony and Happy left the Poseidon before it met with disaster.
And later, because of Pepper again, Tony and Happy escaped the Argo's disaster.
Thinking about it this way,
Compared to this group of people who were envisioning their future after their narrow escape from death,
Tony and Happy's level should be the highest.
And the luckiest.
Locke and his group played a game of escaping death.
Tony and Happy, however, performed a formal version of a side-to-side dodge on the edge of death.
Locke had actually captured Tony's peripheral glance when it fell on him, and at the same time, he understood the meaning of that glance.
He suddenly smiled.
Locke also looked at Tony, his mouth slightly open. "Congratulations, you've found your lucky goddess."
Just then,
Buzz!
138. S.H.I.E.L.D. and the CIA
The quinjet descended from below the clouds, and the argo came into view below.
But... there was nothing on the radar.
If Stark Industries hadn't sent the positioning coordinates just now, they might have thought this was just an empty stretch of sea, just like the few times they had flown over before.
"Over here!"
Hill watched the dozen or so people waving their hands excitedly on the deck after seeing them and frowned. "What on earth happened to the argo and the poseidon?"
A moment later.
The quinjet landed vertically on the deck of the argo. The side door opened, and Hill, leading Natasha and a team of S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents, stepped out and said to the pilot, "Notify the NYPD and tell them the people have been found."
The pilot acknowledged.
"Oh, right."
Hill looked at Locke and Gwen over there and added, "Tell Police Chief George Stacy that his daughter is fine."
Because of the incident Nick Fury had caused, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s work in New York had come to a standstill.
The NYPD was like one big family, and George Stacy was already considered a minor patriarch within it. It just so happened that Hill had been wanting to repair the relationship with the NYPD, and this intel would be a good start.
"Mr. Broughton."
Hill then looked at Locke and smiled. "We meet again."
Locke's expression was calm. "Why am I not surprised at all?"
Hill smiled and said, "The poseidon belongs to the federal government. Theoretically, it falls under the jurisdiction of the Department of Homeland Security as well."
Locke shook his head. "No, you've misunderstood me."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
Locke's tone was flat. "The reason I'm not surprised to see you here is because law enforcement always arrives late to clean up the battlefield once the curtain has fallen, don't they?"
The Hero finishes off the villain, and then law enforcement comes out to mop up.
This was standard procedure.
Clearly.
Even S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't defy such a procedure. He had led the people through a game of survival and then quietly finished off the monster alone. He did all the hard work, and then S.H.I.E.L.D. came to clean up.
It was a good thing.
They didn't show up when he was fighting the monster; otherwise, S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't be here to clean up, but to deliver more casualties.
Hill didn't take Locke's hostility to heart.
After all, on the surface and in a legal sense, Locke had indeed been mistreated by S.H.I.E.L.D... by an Agent of the Department of Homeland Security. If Locke had no feelings toward them at all, Hill would have felt nervous and confused.
Just then.
Natasha had already led the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents to the corridor where Locke had fought previously. Looking at the gruesome scene in the corridor, even Natasha couldn't help but change her expression. "Hill, I've found the crew of the argo. You won't believe this."
Hill's expression also shifted as she listened to Natasha's report. She looked at Locke, who was helping Gwen wrap herself in a blanket on the deck. "Mr. Broughton, do you know where the crew of the argo went?"
Locke's expression was indifferent. "They're probably dead."
Hill was slightly stunned.
Locke smiled and pointed at the others, looking at Hill. "Since we came onto the argo, we haven't gone below deck. We saw that monster's tentacles, and for safety, we didn't go down. I'm just guessing; we didn't encounter a single crew member when we arrived on the argo."
Gwen said, "That's right, we haven't gone down."
Dylan seemed to think of something and pointed to the writhing tentacle with countless suckers tied up with rope on the deck, which hadn't completely died yet. "That thing was chopped off from that monster."
Damn it.
If it wasn't for that monster, they probably would have refueled the helicopter and left long ago.
"By the way."
Pepper looked at Hill and said, "About half an hour ago, that monster stopped moving. But be careful. We originally wanted to leave on a lifeboat, but it was too dangerous."
Hill nodded to Pepper. "We will, Ms. Potts. The rescue boat will be here soon."
As the words fell.
What arrived wasn't a rescue boat, but a large transport plane.
Hill looked up and was slightly stunned when she saw the serial number of the transport plane.
Rumble!
The transport plane lowered ropes.
Following the rappelling of another team of armed Agents, a man in a suit and tie wearing sunglasses also jumped down from the helicopter. He took off his sunglasses and walked toward Hill with a smile. "Commander Hill, long time no see."
Gwen, wrapped in a blanket, looked at the team that had appeared and asked curiously, "Also from the Department of Homeland Security?"
Locke shook his head. "CIA."
Hearing Locke's words, several people curiously looked at the middle-aged man in the suit shaking hands with Hill.
CIA.
Spies.
The most mysterious Agents.
The middle-aged man over there seemed to have heard Locke's words. He looked at Locke and seemed to recall something. "Locke Broughton? Am I correct?"
Locke nodded. "That's right."
Again.
It was normal for the CIA to know about him. After all, it was Nick Fury who dragged the CIA into the mess, and then Locke directly retaliated. Because of that, the Langley Director who had vouched for Nick Fury over the phone seemed to have stepped down in disgrace to manage a logistics warehouse.
The middle-aged man reached out to Locke, somewhat curious. "May I ask how you determined I was from Langley?"
Locke glanced at the smiling man and the offered hand of friendship, then shook it. "Do you want the simple version or the complex version?"
The middle-aged man shrugged. "How about the simple one?"
Locke laughed. "Sure. Intuition!"
"Haha!"
The middle-aged man laughed. "Intuition. A good intuition is very useful. So, what about the complex one?"
Locke sized up the middle-aged man and said flatly, "Sunglasses, a suit, well-groomed hair, expensive leather shoes, plus you don't get along with the Department of Homeland Security people. Obviously, CIA!"
The middle-aged man looked down at his leather shoes and smiled. "You've impressed me, Mr. Broughton. Alright, I am indeed from Langley, just an insignificant little person. You can call me Nameless."
Locke raised an eyebrow.
Nameless.
These days, in the CIA, someone daring to call themselves Nameless was just like many top-tier authors liking to pretend they were rookies—it was obvious at a glance.
Locke thought to himself, "Sorry, Mr. Nameless, I'm not interested in you."
He was only seventeen, a time to study hard and make progress every day. Although he knew that coming to New York wouldn't be as carefree as Texas, he was prepared.
In short.
Do what's appropriate for your age, earn as many points as possible, then work hard to save money, exchange for a Godhead, and go find a beautiful place in outer space to lie down.
This was something Locke had never changed. Of course, there was one change.
Take Gwen with him to find a beautiful place in outer space and lie down together.
Soon.
In the distance, a yacht broke through the mist and appeared in everyone's sight.
The boarding ladder was lowered.
With the help of the arriving rescue personnel, Locke and the others left the argo one by one and transferred to the yacht. Then, once everyone was accounted for, they started the engines and sped toward the nearest land. At the airport there, a plane ready to fly to New York at any time was already prepared.
Hill and Nameless stood on the argo, watching the yacht quickly receding, and withdrew their gazes.
"Mr. Nameless."
"Commander Hill."
"There's a thick mist surrounding this Locke Broughton. What, is Langley feeling tempted?"
"That former Director of yours who faked his death and escaped prison—what was his name again? Have you found him? Does Langley need to help?"
"Director Nick Fury is dead."
"Is that so?"
Nameless glanced at Hill, put on his sunglasses, and walked toward the cabin. "Do I look like I believe you, Commander Hill?"
Hill frowned and followed. "I'm just reminding you, Mr. Nameless, be careful not to hit a wall. He's prickly!"
"Commander Hill, are you worried I'll snatch him away before you do?"
"S.H.I.E.L.D. is never short of Agents."
"That's true."
Nameless nodded, acknowledging Hill's point, and then said, "Unfortunately, S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't have many top-tier Agents. I do quite like Locke Broughton, but I'm still considering whether to recruit him."
Lorraine Broughton was originally a Langley ace Agent; her son would naturally be a CIA Agent as well.
They went down the stairs.
With a smile on his face, Nameless couldn't help but cover his nose with his hand after the first glance. Looking at the dense corpses and the slimy mucus in the corridor, he couldn't help but say, "Jesus Christ, what on earth happened here?"
A Langley Agent looked at Nameless. "Sir, there's more over here. The scene is even more gruesome."
"This reminds me of the massacre pit we found in Africa."
Nameless said this to Hill, whose expression was also quite something, and then carefully stepped across the floor to reach the Langley Agent's side. He looked at the engine room that had turned into a tomb, opened his mouth, and a deep sense of shock flashed in his eyes. "Well, this is the first time I've seen a scene like this."
Hill, who had followed, looked at the engine room filled with countless bloody corpses and was also completely shocked to the core.
Just then.
A S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent, who had managed to restore power to the argo, spoke through the headset, "Commander, the surveillance footage has been retrieved."
Hill: "..."
139. Hero Locke Broughton
Inside the monitoring room.
The system, having regained power, was rapidly replaying the surveillance footage.
But... it seemed like something collided with the bottom of the argo's hull. Along with the influx of seawater, the entire argo's power directly shut down, and the surveillance suddenly failed.
Just then.
"What is this..."
"shit, fire! Fire!"
"Rat-tat-tat!"
"Rat-tat-tat!"
"There's something at the bottom of the hull, something!"
"fuck!"
Inside Hill's S.H.I.E.L.D. intercom channel and Nameless's intercom channel, there were sudden shouts from their respective Agents, followed by the rat-tat-tat of various weapons.
After a while.
A few surviving Agents returned and, with lingering fear, reported to Hill and Nameless, who had rushed back: "There's a monster."
Hill and Nameless looked at each other.
The monster that attacked the argo hadn't left yet?
However, when the mutated giant octopus, whose head had been blown apart, was excavated by the arriving vessels and lifted into mid-air, Hill and Nameless on the deck of the argo grew even more confused as they looked at the headless creature with its numerous severed but still flailing tentacles.
The mutated giant octopus suspended in mid-air had its countless severed giant tentacles flailing everywhere; although it had lost its head, these tentacles were not yet dead.
From the brief surveillance footage, they roughly knew what the argo had encountered.
But what happened afterward?
What exactly did this mutated giant octopus, which could cause magnetic field interference and even block communications but now had its head blown off, experience on the argo?
A person couldn't help but appear in Hill's mind.
Locke Broughton.
But... Hill shook her head immediately. During the landing just now, she knew that neither Locke nor the others had chosen to investigate everywhere after suddenly finding the argo empty; instead, they stayed on the deck, unlike the main cast in countless horror movies who run off one by one to their deaths.
Furthermore, at least when Locke and the others were refueling, the mutated giant octopus should have still been alive and well; at that time, it had even attacked the helicopter in an attempt to keep them there.
"What exactly happened?"
Hill frowned, thinking to herself. Then there was the poseidon; she looked directly at Natasha: "Has the poseidon been found?"
Natasha nodded: "Found it, but... it has already sunk. Only a few floating bodies were found on the surface; the rest have likely sunk to the bottom of the ocean along with the poseidon."
Hill: "..."
The poseidon had nearly 3,700 people, and the argo had roughly the same number. This meant that this time, more than 7,000 people in total would remain here forever.
This was big news.
Directly block the news here?
Heh.
How could it be blocked? This wasn't a matter of a few or a few dozen people, but a full 7,000. Blocking it was impossible.
But... Hill's gaze shifted upward, falling on the headless mutated giant octopus still in mid-air that had taken the lives of several Agents even after losing its own life. She looked at Nameless: "The sinking of the poseidon due to a massive wave can't be hidden, and the news of the missing crew on the argo probably can't be hidden either, but we can hide this mutated giant octopus."
If the outside world learned what happened here, especially if the footage of the lower cargo hold and bilge were exposed, those chaos-loving media outlets would likely fall into an immediate frenzy.
In fact.
The media was already in a frenzy.
Countless media reporters crowded into New YorkKennedy Airport, attempting to interview the survivors from the poseidon who had just been identified at the first opportunity.
What?
Locke and the others flying back to New York should have been confidential?
Normally, that would be the case. However, the New Yorkmedia had always been incredibly resourceful. If Washington reporters could know when a senator was eating, then New York reporters could know if any plane arriving in New York carried a newsworthy figure.
Fortunately, those reporters weren't able to enter the tarmac directly.
George and Helen came in.
Along with Cindy's and Kahn's fathers and mothers.
Helen looked at the sky anxiously: "Where's the plane? Why isn't it here yet? Nothing else happened, did it?"
George opened his mouth beside her and looked at Helen. He was also anxious inside, but for some reason, hearing her words made him feel stuck between laughter and tears: "Honey, they're on a Department of Homeland Security special flight."
Helen shot a glance at George: "So what if it's the Department of Homeland Security? They're just like any other law enforcement agency—extracting confessions through torture and only knowing how to frame innocent people."
George: "..."
Ever since the Department of Homeland Security took the fall for S.H.I.E.L.D., its reputation in New York had plummeted. Especially after Midtown High School won the High School Chemistry Knowledge Competition, as reports came out, people associated Locke's name with that incident. Consequently, this was the only impression left of the Department of Homeland Security.
"Oh, it's that agency that, like the Federal Bureau of Investigation, loves to frame innocent people."
"..."
God as my witness, the Secretary of Homeland Security was already starting to regret taking the fall for S.H.I.E.L.D.
This blame was lasting longer than he imagined; in fact, every time Locke appeared in the news, the Department of Homeland Security would be dragged out for another public lashing.
This time?
The Secretary of Homeland Security looked at the list of survivors sent by his subordinates. Seeing a name on the list, he leaned back in his chair, feeling somewhat powerless.
I'm afraid that this time, the Department of Homeland Security is going to be dragged out by those damn media outlets for another lashing.
After a while.
The silhouette of a plane appeared in the sky.
Helen's eyes lit up, extremely excited: "Is it this one?"
George also looked up: "It should be."
On the plane.
After being rescued, arranged to shower, given a quick physical exam, and changed into new clothes, Locke and the others were flying back to New York on a Department of Homeland Security special flight.
Gwen, wearing a puffy and somewhat cute down jacket, adjusted her ponytail and looked at Kennedy Airportgetting closer under the windshield: "Finally back."
Locke, sitting opposite her and drinking bourbon from his glass, didn't speak.
Originally, Locke shouldn't have been able to drink bourbon, given his age, but with just one sentence, he had someone arrange it for him.
I fucking escaped death; what's wrong with having a glass of bourbon to calm my nerves?
A perfect reason.
Several Department of Homeland Security Agents couldn't think of any reason to refuse. After reporting it, they could only serve Locke the bourbon.
However... "Mr. Broughton."
A DHS Agent walked over, looking at Locke and the glass in his hand: "We're about to land."
Locke glanced at the DHS Agent, then at the remaining bourbon in his glass, downed it in one gulp, and handed the glass to the Agent: "Thanks."
The DHS Agent's lip twitched. He could swear that in all his life, he had never seen a minor so bold as to drink right in front of law enforcement, while they had no reason to refuse him.
Gwen watched the DHS Agent turn and leave, whispering to Locke across from her: "Aren't you afraid they'll keep an eye on you and arrest you for drinking?"
Locke shook his head: "No, because I'd turn around and sue them for trespassing. My marksmanship is pretty good too, though unfortunately, I don't have a carry permit yet. If they aren't afraid, there's also the Castle Doctrine, and I have a legal team."
When he turned eighteen next year, the first thing he'd do was get a carry permit through George. By then, under the Homestead Act and Castle Doctrine, if a few more S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents showed up, Locke could slaughter them at home without any trouble.
Without any search warrant, it's trespassing; if they die, they die for nothing, and Locke would be acting in self-defense.
Gwen chuckled, automatically ignoring the inadvertent killing intent in Locke's words, and looked at the others. Cindy and Kahn were already asleep over there.
Jennifer and Christine were whispering with their heads down, while Robert sat in his seat with his arms crossed.
Dylan and Maggie were also talking quietly over there. Maggie's son, Connor, was asleep against the window.
Gwen snapped back: "Pepper isn't with us."
Locke said: "Her status is probably quite special."
After they were rescued, Tony Stark's plane had already arrived and left ahead of them, taking Pepper and Happydirectly, rather than following this Department of Homeland Security flight.
Gwen nodded: "True. If the New York media knew that Stark Industries was involved here, I can already imagine the dense crowds of reporters outside the airport."
While speaking.
The plane touched down, and then with a hum, it landed and began to slow down.
After a while.
The plane entered the taxiing phase, turned a circle, and slowly moved toward the nearby hangar.
Everyone in the cabin had unbuckled their seatbelts; at the moment of landing, long-lost smiles and joy seemed to reappear on their faces.
"I'm definitely going to have a good sleep once I get back."
"Me too, I'm going to sleep forever."
"Locke, find a place for a drink?"
"..."
Locke looked at Robert's invitation and Dylan winking beside him, laughing softly. He looked at Robert: "It's not out of the question. After all, Robert was once the Mayor of New York. If we get caught, he should have the connections to settle with the District Attorneys Office."
Robert laughed: "You're a Hero, Locke. The District Attorneys Office won't prosecute you just for having a drink."
Locke: "..."
Chapter 140, I Won't Be a Hero
"A Hero?"
"Yes."
Locke frowned.
Robert, who had stood up, looked at the others who had also risen; they all nodded in agreement. "That's right, a Hero. Locke, you saved us. You're a Hero."
Gwen was also looking at Locke, her eyes filled with little stars, twinkling brightly and beautifully. "Yes, Locke. Without you—if it weren't for you—we never would have been able to leave the poseidon."
Locke opened his mouth to speak.
He really wanted to say that if he hadn't saved them on purpose... but clearly, let alone Robert, even Gwenprobably wouldn't believe him.
But... from beginning to end, Locke truly never intended to save anyone. Forget about taking action; he didn't even have the thought.
Gwen was the only one.
Locke only wanted to save Gwen. The others were simply acting together with them because it happened to be the right time.
In fact, if the situation had become critical, Locke would have exposed his identity to get Gwen out, but as for the others, he was still considering it.
"I'm not a Hero."
"You are."
"No, I'm not."
Locke shook his head and looked at Robert. "I never have been, and I've never thought about being a Hero. You saved yourselves."
He'd have to be crazy to want to be a Hero.
Especially to be a Hero in the Marvel Universe.
Weren't there enough cautionary tales of people losing their homes and families all for the sake of being a 'Hero'?
Look at Little Spider. He's a Hero, right? And the result? To be a Hero, he not only brought ruin to his aunt and uncle's home but even dragged down everyone else around him.
For what?
Just for that so-called 'With great power comes great responsibility'?
Look at Iron Man. He's a Hero, right? And the result? He died, leaving behind a widow and an orphan daughter. In fact, one could infer from subsequent events that after Iron Man sacrificed himself, Stark Industries freaking became Nick Fury's private enterprise.
For what?
Iron Man chose to sacrifice himself for the entire Universe, and this was the ending he got?
The Iron Man Suit was given away.
Stark Industries was taken over by S.H.I.E.L.D.
What did Pepper Potts and their daughter have left?
Empty fame is the most exhausting thing.
So, from start to finish, Locke never even considered being a Hero, let alone a superhero.
Besides, he didn't want too much limelight.
Develop quietly, stay steady, don't get reckless. Once he saved enough money to buy a sun god and take off directly, wouldn't that be great?
Furthermore...
The destruction of this World had absolutely nothing to do with Locke.
It was just that... Locke looked at the expressions on everyone's faces, which were practically screaming "You ARE a Hero!" His thoughts raced, and then he thought of a very good reason. He said in a low voice, "The few of us made it out, but many more didn't have time to escape. Therefore, I am not a Hero. What we should remember are the victims who never left, not ourselves. I am not a Hero, and I don't deserve to be one."
These were also Locke's sincere thoughts.
While he didn't want to be a Hero, it didn't mean he didn't admire those who were.
But... the heroes Locke admired in his heart weren't these so-called individualistic heroes of the Federation, but the group of ancestors from his past life who used blood and tears to secure a peaceful life for future generations.
They were the heroes Locke truly admired.
Compared to them, Locke asked himself honestly: he really didn't deserve that title.
Captain America counted as that kind of Hero.
As for the other so-called superheroes?
Heh.
Hearing Locke mention the majority who didn't have time to escape, the memories flooded back to everyone, and they nodded in unison.
Yes.
They had escaped, but there were many more—the vast majority—who hadn't made it out in time.
Seeing this, Locke lowered his voice, his emotions perfectly tuned. "The deceased are gone. The only thing we can do is mourn them. I think we should hold a candlelight vigil for them at the New York Port, to guide them on their way home."
Everyone looked up.
"Yes."
"We should."
"It's the only thing we can do."
...
Locke's suggestion roused the somber crowd, and they all nodded in response. By the time the plane had officially come to a stop, they had already decided on the time for the candlelight vigil.
Tonight.
They had returned to New York, but many more were unable to return. The only thing they could do was light a candle and tell those people: 'We are home, we've shown you the way back, so hurry home too.'
The plane's cabin door opened.
Everyone composed themselves, preparing to disembark.
But... although Locke had successfully convinced them not to call him a Hero when talking to the media, everyone still instinctively looked toward Locke, wanting him and Gwen to be the first to step out.
Maggie hugged Connor and said, "Just like back on the poseidon, you led the way for us. Now that we're home, you should be the one at the front."
Everyone looked serious, with expressions that said, 'I insist; if you refuse, we'll tell the media you're a Hero.'
Locke opened his mouth, let out a laugh, and didn't persist. He looked at Gwen beside him and smiled. "Alright then. Shall we go home?"
Gwen nodded and took Locke's right hand.
If they had to go first, then they'd go first.
It wasn't like an interview.
No reason to be afraid.
Soon.
Just as George and Helen below were getting so anxious their hearts were pounding, and they were thinking about rushing up, Locke in his suit and Gwen in a down jacket, tightly holding his hand, appeared at the cabin door.
Seeing her daughter appearing alive at last, Helencouldn't help but cry out to God.
"Gwen!"
"Mom!"
After coming down the stairs, Gwen couldn't help but embrace Helen.
Locke also shared a hug with George. After letting go, he looked at George. "Mr. Stacy, Gwen didn't suffer any injuries. I've fulfilled my promise."
Gwen, weeping with joy in her mother Helen's arms, wiped her cheeks and looked at George. "Yes, Dad. Locke protected me... protected us very well."
Among the many people who escaped from the poseidonthis time, she was the only one without any injuries—not even a scratch.
George nodded and looked at Locke, saying in a heavy voice, "When I heard what happened to the poseidon, I never doubted you for a moment. Because I believed that as long as you were alive, you would definitely protect my daughter."
Locke smiled. "That was my promise, sir."
George nodded heavily. "Yes, you did an outstanding job."
Cindy and Kahn also embraced their respective parents, who had been waiting there since early morning. Instantly, the entire hangar was filled with a contradictory scene of crying and laughter.
"Let's go."
George looked at his daughter, who had returned alive, with relief and said, "Your mom prepared hot cocoa at home, just waiting for you to get back."
Gwen wiped the corners of her eyes. "Dad, I'm already seventeen."
George said, "Then if you don't want to drink it, I'll give it to lit—"
Gwen interrupted, "I want it! That's the hot cocoa Mom made for me."
George laughed heartily, his laughter washing away the sadness of the tears just now. He said to Gwen and Locke, "Then let's go home."
A short while later.
An NYPD police car, sirens blaring, drove out from the interior of the airport.
Sitting in the back seat, Locke and Gwen watched the crowd of reporters blocking the main gate and couldn't help but say, "I'm afraid every reporter in New York is here."
Probably more than that.
Gwen also saw a dense army of reporters running toward the main group in the distance.
Fortunately.
Gwen turned her attention back to George, who was driving, and said, "It's a good thing Dad drove the police car over, otherwise we probably wouldn't have been able to get out."
Helen, sitting in the passenger seat, said, "Your father would even abandon his principles for you."
George was typically someone who strictly separated public and private matters. As the saying went, he never used official vehicles during his time off. Even back when Helen was pregnant, George would rather drive his police car home, then switch to his own small car to take Helento the hospital.
But ever since Gwen was born, when it came to her, George was the type for whom anything was possible; no principle was more important than his daughter Gwen.
Gwen smiled. "I'm Dad's little sweetheart."
Locke, sitting beside her, remained silent.
Speaking of which... if George knew that Gwen was the one who tipped off the Peerless Assassin back then, what kind of expression would he have? He'd probably feel like his 'little sweetheart' was the kind that leaked air and was made of black-hearted cotton.
"Locke?"
"Locke?"
"Hmm?"
Gwen looked at Locke, who only snapped out of it after she called him several times, and asked with concern, "What's wrong?"
Locke smiled. "Nothing, I was just wondering where my car went."
Gwen remembered and said to George, "Oh right, Dad, Locke's car is still at the harbor."
George said, "Then let's go to the harbor first."
"No need."
"Aren't you going to get your car?"
"I can't drive it."
Locke's tone was calm. "My driver's license, car keys, wallet, and everything else all sank together."
Fortunately.
The door locks at the Starlight Tower apartment were all fingerprint and passcode locks; otherwise, he probably wouldn't even be able to get into his apartment.
Locke had originally kept those things in his inventory, but Gwen had said she'd keep them for him to avoid losing them when they got off the ship. As a result, they went down with the suitcases and everything else to the depths of the North Atlantic Ocean along with the poseidon.
Fortunately.
There were a few things he'd forgotten to take when he boarded the ship in a hurry and had left in the car.
Locke thought to himself and shook his head. "It's fine. I'll go home to get the spare car keys, then after the candlelight vigil at the harbor tonight, I'll drive the car back. I just hope the car hasn't been stolen."
"It's not stolen."
George, who was driving, said, "The Police Officers in charge of patrolling the harbor area check three times a day to see if your car has been stolen again by the Peerless Assassin."
Locke: "..."
141. Candlelight Vigil at the Port
George never stopped thinking about capturing the Peerless Assassin.
After all, who told the Peerless Assassin to provoke the NYPD back when he was a Detective, and even kidnap his future son-in-law at one point?
Although George rarely needs to do field work now, he keeps a constant eye on the Peerless Assassin.
Naturally, Locke's audi became an object of George's attention.
The Peerless Assassin had a peculiar habit; otherwise, he wouldn't use a disposable vehicle for every mission, whether it was the Textile Factory or the moment he killed someone at the prison gates.
George ordered the Police Officers patrolling New York Port to check if Locke's audi was still there three times a day, looking for any signs of tampering. He even kept the port's surveillance cameras in a state of near-constant operation.
But...
He didn't catch the Peerless Assassin. Instead, he caught a large wave of small-time thieves—at least five groups—planning to steal cars at the port.
Those car thieves would disable the surveillance cameras, but within five minutes, before they could even drive out of the port, they were surrounded by the arriving police force.
Under George's concern, the port parking lot, where usually three cars would vanish a day, managed to maintain a record of not losing a single vehicle, greatly improving the safety and living standards of the port.
The wife of the New York Port Company's owner even specifically mentioned George's measures while dining with the current Mayor, Ms. Casey. Consequently, Ms. Casey specially invited George and Helen to lunch, a pleasant surprise that George had never expected.
But... there was still no trace of the Peerless Assassin.
Locke chuckled inwardly. Nonsense—he had been out at sea playing a game of PUBG and circling the Atlantic Ocean. He wasn't even in New York, so how could the Peerless Assassin be in New York?
Helen, sitting in the passenger seat, looked at Gwen in the back: "Your father has become obsessed. Lately, his study is filled with files on this Peerless Assassin. He even contacted friends in Texas to get the full dossier on the Peerless Assassin for study."
Gwen smiled. "I believe Dad can do it. Right, Locke?"
Locke nodded.
He felt flattered.
Goodfellas, his future father-in-law cared so much about him that he couldn't wait to find him and throw him in jail. What should I do? Waiting online, not urgent but not exactly relaxed either.
George snorted twice. "I will definitely catch that guy!"
Vigilante justice is not justice.
George believed in this firmly.
In the evening.
A large crowd had gathered at New York Port. Because of this, the NYPD had to dispatch enough police force to maintain order.
In fact, anyone wishing to enter New York Port had to undergo a search to ensure they weren't carrying any weapons.
There was no other way.
Everyone on the poseidon perished, with only eleven survivors. But behind those three thousand plus victims were at least three thousand families.
What if some angry family members of the victims directed their rage toward the survivors?
Not to mention, among the survivors this time was one of the NYPD's own.
So... the port tonight was exceptionally safe. The pier where the poseidon used to dock had been cleared, and three NYPD helicopters were circling in the sky.
Countless people crowded the port, their weeping and wailing echoing continuously.
By the time Locke and the others arrived in New York, it was confirmed that the poseidon had been hit by a rogue wave and sunk. The news of no other survivors had been verified and reported by major New York media outlets.
The hope in the hearts of countless victim families was completely shattered.
On this day...
Hospitals across New York City appeared exceptionally busy.
When Locke and Gwen arrived at the port by taxi, they couldn't help but blink at the sight of the sea of people inside.
Just then...
A Homeless man walked up and looked at Locke and Gwen: "You two, you're here for the candlelight vigil too, right?"
As he spoke...
Before Locke and Gwen could even nod, the Homeless man took two candles from his coat and handed them to them.
Locke watched Gwen take the candles and looked at the Homeless man: "How much?"
The Homeless man waved his hand. "I don't make money off this kind of thing."
After saying that...
The Homeless man saw a couple with red-rimmed eyes getting out of a taxi nearby and walked over, taking out two more candles without charging a single cent.
In contrast to this Homeless man, not far away, a young black man holding a cardboard box with a joyful smile on his face, selling candles for five dollars each, looked particularly jarring.
Locke narrowed his eyes. "Gwen, I think there's something I should tell you."
Gwen looked at Locke curiously.
Locke stared at the young black man who was full of joy and making a fortune, saying in a low voice: "I'm not being racist, but this scene is a bit too ironic."
Gwen followed Locke's gaze to the young man hawking candles, even pestering an obvious victim's family member with an endless smile on his face. She pursed her lips: "There are always a few people with low character."
Locke nodded. "I agree."
But not entirely.
Hardly any of them have high character, Locke thought to himself as he took something from his inventory.
With a soft 'thud,' something landed on both the Homeless man and the young black man. Then he said to Gwen, "Let's go in."
He didn't like meddling in other people's business.
But... this time was different.
They entered the port.
Soon...
Locke and Gwen found the main group.
Even... "Pepper?"
Gwen seemed pleasantly surprised to see Pepper Pottswearing jeans and an inconspicuous jacket.
Pepper said, "Sorry I couldn't come back with you guys."
The others waved their hands, expressing understanding.
If Pepper had been on that plane, they probably would have been swarmed by the media and wouldn't have had a single moment of rest.
Locke and Dylan stood to the side.
Each with a cigarette.
Dylan looked at the pier where the poseidon once docked and said, "I plan to settle down."
Locke wasn't surprised at all. "Congratulations."
"Lend me some money."
..."
Motherfucker!
You, a man in his thirties, asking me, a seventeen-year-old kid, for money? Is this reasonable?
If it were anyone else, Locke would have told them to 'get lost' long ago.
Dylan looked at Locke, who was staring at him with a strange expression, and his face was full of melancholy. "All my savings were on the poseidon."
He had won millions.
But... it was all gone.
After all, when the rogue wave hit, he hadn't had time to exchange his chips yet.
So...
Dylan said, "If you don't support me, I'm afraid I'll go bankrupt right here."
Locke asked curiously, "Then where were you just staying?"
"At Maggie's house, in the Upper East Side. It's quite close to the Starlight Tower where you live."
"You can continue staying there."
"No."
Dylan shook his head. "Maggie's ex-husband was too lazy and good-for-nothing; Maggie only divorced him because she couldn't take it anymore. I need to have some money, otherwise, I'll probably end up like that ex-husband."
Locke thought about Dylan's skills. "So what do you plan to do?"
This guy... besides his skills as a submariner, all he had left was gambling.
Dylan took a deep drag and blew out a smoke ring. "Start a fire safety company. For the initial stage, Robert said he has some fire equipment business from a few factories he can give me, and Pepper also said she can give me some small fire safety work. Now I'm just short of startup capital."
Robert was a former Mayor of New York. Those who can run for mayor are either capitalists or become capitalists after becoming mayor. It wasn't surprising he had a few companies.
After all, a ticket cost two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
Pepper went without saying. Although Stark Industrieswas currently managed by Tony Stark's godfather, Obadiah Stane, Pepper could still suggest changing vendors for small contracts worth tens of thousands of dollars.
After all... they shared a friendship forged from surviving death together. If they were a bit younger, they might have sworn a blood oath to become brothers from different mothers after their escape.
Locke thought to himself as he flicked away the cigarette butt. "How much do you need?"
Dylan thought for a moment. "Five hundred... no, three hundred thousand. If that's really not possible, I'll find a chance to go to Las Vegas a few times. I'll definitely pay you back within a year."
Locke glanced at Dylan. "Three hundred thousand? That's so little. Where are you going to live?"
Dylan shrugged. "Just squat in a motel for a bit."
Locke chuckled, took out a brand-new checkbook from his coat, wrote 'three million,' signed his name, tore it off, and handed it to Dylan. "Pay me back whenever."
He had made a net profit of over fifty million on the poseidon.
Three million?
Pocket change.
Locke felt that if it weren't for the extra income at night, he could almost say goodbye to his career as an assassin.
But... assassination missions also provided rewards. Even a fly's leg is meat. Money might not be made by saving, but you can certainly accumulate it by saving.
As for why he was so generous...
Locke didn't have many friends, but if someone was a friend, Locke would help them.
Three million was just a small amount to him.
Dylan looked at the check in his hand, his face lit up with joy, then he asked curiously, "Wasn't your wallet and everything else on the poseidon, just like ours?"
Locke put away his checkbook. "If you also had fifty million in the bank, you could have the bank manager come to your house to find you at night too."
Dylan: "..."
After George dropped Locke back at the Starlight Towerat noon, the bank manager had brought him a brand-new bank card and a new checkbook in the afternoon.
This is the Federation.
A Federation where having money is heaven!