Another mysterious organization.
S.H.I.E.L.D.?
Locke raised an eyebrow. He felt as though S.H.I.E.L.D.'s shadow loomed over everything.
Then again, it made sense. S.H.I.E.L.D. had always been a professional stirrer of trouble.
To use an old saying: they wanted to do everything, but they could do nothing well.
Terrorist activities?
Never mind the distant past—take the events of 9/11 three years ago. Where was S.H.I.E.L.D. when that happened?
Arms trafficking?
The world was still full of smuggled weapons. Forget the global scale; the arms trade in the Federation's underground black market was becoming as common as a street fair.
Assassins?
The Continental Hotel was right on Pearl Street in New York, just two blocks away from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s New York office. Was S.H.I.E.L.D. unaware?
They simply couldn't control it.
Furthermore...
Training agents to the point where they would rather defect and go to school than return—stating that out loud would make anyone's sides split from laughing.
"Is that so?"
Locke's thoughts turned rapidly. He gave a contemptuous smile. "If you are here to remind me to watch out for this mysterious organization, then I will say thank you. But regarding my things—if I don't give them away, no one can take them. Whoever tries will pay a price."
If S.H.I.E.L.D. dared to come, he dared to kill.
The only thing that could influence Locke was mission rewards; it would never be fear or a desire for stability.
As long as the rewards were high enough, forget S.H.I.E.L.D.—he wouldn't even flinch at Thanos.
A mere S.H.I.E.L.D., as long as Hydra wasn't pulling strings from the inside, was worth less than the New York Fraternity in Locke's eyes. He could slaughter his way through until S.H.I.E.L.D. was utterly exterminated.
At the very least, those New York Fraternity guys could make bullets curve. Does S.H.I.E.L.D. have that kind of skill?
Heh.
Callum Lynch frowned slightly. From Locke's words, he heard a firm and thick intent to kill—a subconscious, instantaneous decision.
"I have already investigated the tip of the iceberg regarding this mysterious organization. Victoria Knox, the one who told me how to find you, was once a member."
"Who?"
"Victoria Knox. The arms dealer."
"Oh."
Locke nodded, looking at Callum. "Is she dead yet?"
Callum: "..."
Locke smiled, spinning the wine glass in front of him. "I'm joking. Of course I know who she is."
The first sentence was a joke, but the second one wasn't.
In Locke's mind, Victoria Knox had already been sentenced to death.
Again.
He didn't mind that Victoria gave up "Peerless" to survive—that was survival instinct, and Locke could understand it. However, Locke minded very much that Victoria gave up "Locke."
Callum exchanged a look with Rosa beside him.
The latter seemed somewhat reluctant, but she still nodded.
Observing their body language, Locke raised an eyebrow.
What now?
Callum looked at Locke. "Mr. Peerless, you have the Golden Apple, and the Golden Apple should be under the custody of the Brotherhood. Therefore..."
After all that talk, are we still going to fight?
Fine.
Since you look like Magneto, I'll give you a quick end.
Locke narrowed his eyes.
However, just as Locke's killing intent surged, almost triggering the system to "ding" and issue a mission, Callum spoke with a heavy pause: "In the name of the Brotherhood, I invite you to join us and become one of our members."
System: "...???"
Locke's killing intent receded as quickly as a low tide. The system's urge to issue a mission was naturally choked back. He blinked, coming back to his senses, and stared at Callum. "What?"
If you can't beat me, you're just going to have me join you?
Callum spoke with a serious expression: "I can see that we are the same kind of people. Join us. Become one of us."
Locke readjusted his sitting posture; he had nearly slipped off the seat just now. "You... aren't you here to take back the Golden Apple?"
What kind of development is this?
Locke was bewildered.
Callum nodded. "We did indeed have that intention. But after reviewing your limited records and this brief encounter, we realized that you are actually just like us."
Locke: "..."
'Nothing is true, everything is permitted!'
That was the Creed of the Brotherhood. Beneath this Creed were three tenets.
First: Never kill an innocent.
Second: Hide in plain sight.
Third: Never compromise the Brotherhood.
Callum said: "You only kill the guilty. You could have killed that police officer at the time, but you didn't. Moreover, since your debut, no one has been able to discover your true identity. As for the third, you anticipated we would find that Locke boy and left your contact information. Furthermore, you have learned the New York Fraternity's 'Curve Bullet.' You are already one of us. Join us."
Locke opened his mouth.
The reason he didn't kill that officer was because his name was George. Try that with someone else.
The reason no one found out who he was is because he simply doesn't exist.
As for why he left the contact info—nonsense, that was one of the three contingency plans I prepared to prevent my identity from being exposed.
And what's this about knowing how to curve bullets making me a member of the Brotherhood?
That's quite the logic.
Only...
How come I didn't know I was conducting myself according to the Brotherhood's ways?
Locke smiled, looking thoughtfully at Callum. "What if I say I'm not interested?"
Callum's gaze was calm. "We will watch you. Once you attempt to use the Golden Apple to harm the world, we will fight you to the bitter end—until you die, or we are destroyed."
Locke nodded. "A very severe threat."
Callum corrected him: "It is not a threat, but a statement of fact."
Locke looked up at Callum. Just as he was about to refuse, he remembered the mission the system had popped out.
'Roman Orthodoxy lies in Locke?'
This mission is probably not that simple.
Locke originally thought Callum and his crew were going to try and take it by force. If that were the case, it would be easy to handle.
Kill them.
Kill them all, and the problem goes away.
But...
Callum clearly had his IQ online.
'Roman Orthodoxy lies in Locke.' How does one define "Orthodox? He had checked the Brotherhood's records; the Roman Brotherhood was indeed the orthodox branch once, but following the collapse of Rome, the Brotherhood had splintered.
The Eastern Brotherhood.
The Italian Brotherhood.
The Egyptian Brotherhood.
Brotherhoods blooming all over the place, each claiming that the Roman Orthodoxy lay with them.
Good grief.
This really is a series of missions.
This damn system wouldn't happen to want me to incorporate all the Brotherhoods, would it? That way, only one Brotherhood would remain, and naturally, the Roman Orthodoxy would only remain with him.
"Motherfucker!"
Locke suddenly felt he had guessed correctly, and his face turned a bit dark.
However...
***
Read 30 Chapters early on P-atreon.com/Redestro666