The next day.
When Locke returned to the Star Tower after class, he stepped out of the elevator and looked toward his front door. He immediately raised an eyebrow.
That fast?
Ever since Victoria Knox apologized to him yesterday, he had a premonition that someone would be looking for him soon.
But...
This fast?
They certainly had some skill.
Locke knew his own security; the defense of the Star Tower was not a single bit inferior to the headquarters of the NYPD. Even if a visitor came, they would only be allowed through after contacting the resident for confirmation, unless they lived there themselves.
Especially after Locke's kidnapping incident, the security protocols had been leveled up significantly.
And yet?
Someone still managed to sneak in silently?
Locke's last "kidnapping" was more of a self-directed play than an actual crime. If he were the one invading the Star Tower, he could also technically sneak in without anyone noticing in a certain sense.
Killing everyone who saw him—leaving no one alive to witness his presence—wasn't that a form of assassination too?
Of course.
Although Locke went by the name Peerless, he generally wouldn't choose that approach. Such a method still had a small probability of backfiring.
At the door of the twenty-eighth floor.
Just as the uninvited guests waiting inside Locke's home were starting to wonder if they had been spotted, Locke opened the door from the outside.
"Hi."
After opening the door, Locke looked at the man directly opposite him—Callum Lynch, who was wearing a somewhat ornate medieval-style assassin's robe with a hood. Locke greeted him: "Mr. Magneto, I've heard much about you!"
"..."
Callum hesitated for a moment, then pulled back his hood, revealing a handsome middle-aged face that bore a striking resemblance to a certain mutant tycoon, Magneto: "I am not this Magneto you speak of."
Yes, you are.
In the mutant universe, you are Magneto.
Locke shrugged and walked toward the bar under the watchful gaze of Callum and the four others: "That's a shame. I've always wanted to see Magneto in person."
In the stories regarding mutants, Locke was undoubtedly on Magneto's side.
A great man once said that if one seeks peace through compromise, peace will perish; but if one seeks peace through struggle, peace will survive.
Professor X was a Saint, at most a Gandhi.
Magneto was a true king—no wonder he had "King" in his title.
Locke pulled a bottle of bourbon from a secret corner of the bar and looked at Callum, who had turned to face him: "Want a drink?"
Callum looked at Locke: "You are sixteen years old, if the files are correct."
"So?"
Seeing this, Locke poured himself a glass, took a sip, and looked at Callum: "As assassins, do you still care about that kind of law?"
Except for Callum, the other three men and one woman—all assassins—exchanged looks.
Callum felt it was somewhat miraculous and looked at Locke with curiosity: "You know who we are?"
Locke snorted: "Aren't you just trying to use me to find that guy called Peerless?"
Callum exchanged a look with his associates and nodded: "Yes. That friend of yours has something belonging to us in his hands. We hope he can return it."
Each Golden Apple possessed the power to destroy the world. They, the Brotherhood, as former holders of the Golden Apples, had to ensure that not a single one fell into the hands of villains attempting to destroy the world.
A few years ago, he was a death row inmate, but after awakening the memories of his ancestors, he understood their mission and rebuilt the Roman Brotherhood.
Locke reached out directly: "Stop right there. I have absolutely nothing to do with that 'whoever' you're talking about."
Callum frowned: "We have..."
Before he could finish.
Locke pulled a phone from his pocket and, with a *swish*, tossed it to Callum: "That guy kidnapping me to the textile mill was one thing, but then he showed up at my house again that same night. He said he took something from the textile mill that would likely implicate me. If anyone came looking for him, he told me to give this phone—the one that can contact him—to whoever showed up."
Callum looked down at the unremarkable prepaid burner phone in his hand.
Locke issued a direct order for them to leave: "Now, please leave. I am not an assassin; I am just a student. Dammit, tomorrow I'm going to the bank for a loan and replacing my front door with a safe-vault type."
The sole female assassin looked at Locke, who couldn't hide his annoyance, and smiled: "Even a vault-type door won't stop us. If we want to enter, we have plenty of ways to get in."
Locke said crossly: "Just get out. I'm just a student. I don't want to get involved in your business."
Callum looked at the prepaid phone in his hand, then at Locke.
After a long pause.
"Sorry for the intrusion."
Callum spoke to Locke, then nodded to his four associates. They headed toward the door.
Soon.
Callum and the four others walked out of the building under the gaze of the two bodyguards on the first floor. By the time the two bodyguards realized something was wrong and chased after them, those five people had already vanished from the street to the left and right.
The two bodyguards looked at each other, their expressions uneasy. It felt like they had seen ghosts.
"Lynch."
Once they were far away, the female assassin looked at Callum: "This Locke Broughton was too calm."
Callum nodded: "However, the intelligence was correct at least, wasn't it?"
They had rescued Victoria, and the intelligence she provided was accurate. Finding this Locke really did provide a way to contact the Peerless Assassin.
"Could he be the Peerless Assassin?"
"No."
Hearing the female assassin's words, Callum shook his head directly: "I've seen his hands. An assassin like Peerless, who could secretly learn the New York Fraternity's 'Curve Bullet,' wouldn't have hands that look so youthful and tender."
The female assassin nodded: "When Locke Broughton was in Texas, Peerless was also in Texas. He came to New York, and Peerless came to New York too. Their relationship certainly isn't as simple as this Locke claims."
Claiming they had no relationship?
Based on their movements alone, there was huge suspicion. Even if the two weren't the same person, there was definitely a connection outsiders didn't know about.
It was just that this connection had yet to be found.
In fact...
This was exactly what Locke wanted.
If you haven't found it, then there's no relationship. If you insist there is one, then bring it on. Regardless, he handled the killing but not the burial.
Set out an ambiguous bait and do a bit of fishing.
Sitting at home while the rewards fall from the sky.
Isn't that nice?
In the living room.
Locke stood on the balcony, looking down toward Central Park. Then, as he turned around, he glanced at an apartment building across the park before heading back inside.
On the roof of that apartment building across the park, the Brotherhood assassins—each possessing eagle-eyed vision—watched Locke as he turned from the terrace, returned to the living room, and turned on the TV, keeping him in their sight at all times.
Just then.
The phone rang.
The three men and one woman of the Brotherhood turned their gaze to Callum Lynch's hand.
The phone Locke had just given Callum.
It was ringing!
***
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