The auspicious hour has arrived!
Locke glanced at the surveillance feed from the Star Tower on his phone—footage of George and a wave of officers just arriving on the scene.
Setting up a time lag. This is enough.
Locke put his phone away, activated a proximity mine he'd placed near an emergency escape exit, and turned to leave.
The Audi R8 sat quietly on the road near the sewer entrance.
The textile mill used by the Fraternity as a front wasn't exactly well-hidden. In fact, fifty years ago, this building had been a popular tourist attraction.
But... in this country, as long as you have money, never mind old buildings, you could even pay to enter the White House and sleep in the President's bedroom.
So, Locke's car parked here drew, at most, a few glances from workers arriving for their shifts at the mill, none of whom suspected anything was amiss.
*Vroom!*
The Audi R8 ignited and started up, heading toward the textile mill just a kilometer away at a normal speed.
At this very moment, inside the mill, the atmosphere was subtle.
There was a piece of good news and a piece of bad news.
The good news: the Fraternity had received word through their own channels that Carlos Cross had died. The NYPD had found his body in his safe house. Along with Cross, their tool Wesley, whom they had specially groomed for him, was also dead.
Cross being dead was undoubtedly good news for them.
But... Cross hadn't been killed by Wesley, nor by Fox. That led to the bad news.
A killer from Texas, calling himself Peerless and alias Sin Hunter, had targeted them.
"We aren't familiar with this Peerless at all!"
"We've never had any dealings with him."
"And..." The Exterminator looked toward Sloan, the leader, and said grimly, "The Continental Hotel sent back a reply from Peerless last night. He refused all communication with us!"
After the Fast and Furious coverage that rocked half of New York, the Fraternity had immediately tried to resolve the matter through dialogue once they got the news.
After all, Cross alone had been a massive headache for the mill.
What about a Peerless assassin who had directly killed Cross? Especially now, with the NYPD seemingly breathing down their necks, the Fraternity was in a very passive position.
But Peerless refused to talk.
Worse yet.
Sloan looked down at the black "Notification" in his hand.
Name: The Fraternity
Crime: Premeditated Murder, Falsely Claiming Destiny...
Sentence: Execution!
This card had been discovered by an employee fifteen minutes ago at the mill's entrance and brought inside in a panic.
"Hmph!"
Sloan let out a cold laugh and looked up at the eight senior employees in the office—including the Exterminator and the Apothecary—all masters of the Curve Bullet. "Has the word been sent down?"
The Exterminator nodded, but just as he was about to speak—
*BOOM!*
With a massive explosion, the textile mill's fortress-like gates shattered instantly. Shrapnel from the gate whizzed inward like bullets.
Sloan, the Exterminator, and the others immediately rushed to the windows.
He was here.
"Wow!"
Locke lowered the RPG-7 from his shoulder, which he had urgently procured last night. He marveled, "This power is legit."
He had originally wanted to buy a Stark Industries man-portable rocket. Stark products were quality, but they were also obscenely expensive. Locke was short on cash and prioritized utility over brand names. So, the arms dealer had introduced him to the Type 69 RPG.
Cheap, effective, and it came with a "buy three, get one free" deal.
*Swoosh!*
Locke aimed another rocket at the wide-open gates. The next second, he pulled the trigger. The rocket streaked forward with a long tail of fire, like a wild bull with its tail ignited, crashing directly into the textile mill.
*KABOOM!*
In an instant, a brilliant firework erupted into the sky!
The alarms inside the textile mill wailed immediately.
The next second: *Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!*
Killers stationed in the mill, now acting as soldiers, appeared on the fortress-like walls. They raised their weapons and fired rapidly at the Audi R8 speeding toward their "base."
Within seconds, the R8 was riddled with holes.
However... the car, though destined for the scrap heap, didn't stop. But because the tires were blown, it didn't enter the mill as planned. Instead, it slammed directly into the wall beside the main gate.
*Ding!*
A "gift package" in the trunk of the R8 let out a metallic chime upon impact.
Next second!
*BOOM!*
Accompanied by screams, a section of the mill's wall collapsed instantly. The killers standing atop it were swallowed by the rising flames.
"Bang!"
"Bang!"
"Bang!"
"What?"
"He's inside!"
"Three o'clock!"
"Quick!"
"Rat-tat-tat-tat!"
While the Audi R8 had drawn the Fraternity's attention, Locke had already used the secret escape tunnel—entering the facility by doing the exact opposite of what the tunnel was for.
Dense barrages of bullets slammed into the wall where Locke was hiding. In just a split second, at least a pound of plaster was shredded off the surface.
"Heavy firepower!"
Wearing his sunglasses, Locke felt his heartbeat and couldn't help but lick his lips. Holding his infinite-ammo version of the silver Dancer, he exhaled. "I like it. Let's go!"
He spun out.
Locke's gaze instantly swept over the dozen or so killers who were firing continuously and closing in on him.
Bullets exited the chamber!
Curve shots!
"Bang!"
"Bang!"
The first killer froze in place. The bullet traced a beautiful arc in the air, entering the left side of his head and exiting the right, continuing without losing momentum to slam into the second killer's temple...
In an instant, by the time the two bullets fired from different angles collided in mid-air, these dozen aggressive killers were already dropping to the floor to report to Mephisto in Hell.
Locke flipped, diving behind another piece of cover.
"Fuck!"
"He can curve bullets!"
"Watch out!"
"Shit!"
"Is he one of ours?"
"..."