At the door.
With her smooth blonde hair in a ponytail and a professional business blazer, Victoria Knox stood there, a sweet smile on her face even as she held Locke at gunpoint. She walked into the room slowly, her every movement radiating caution.
The reason was simple.
Victoria believed that no one understood the Peerless Assassin better than she did.
She had practically witnessed Locke's meteoric rise, watching with her own eyes as he carved out a massive reputation in Texas in just two short years.
In the eyes of others, Locke might be the so-called "Sin Hunter."
But...
Victoria knew better. The Peerless Assassin wasn't some vigilante hunter of evil; he was a cold-blooded animal whose very veins ran with ice.
This man had no emotions.
Furthermore, the reason the Peerless Assassin only accepted "sinful" contracts wasn't out of some desire to punish the wicked.
To put it plainly: the bad guys had the money. That was the primary driver for his job selection.
Villains loved cash. Therefore, their wealth was almost always kept in physical currency rather than being deposited in a bank, where it would turn into a traceable string of digits on a ledger. Storing it in a bank made it too easy for the IRS to wipe them out in one fell swoop.
"Victoria."
Locke looked at her as she walked in warily, her gun trained on him. He shook his head. "You shouldn't have shown up in front of me."
After all, during his early startup days, Victoria had been one of the people who helped him.
Locke understood gratitude!
But that didn't mean much in this context.
Locke had also given Victoria a chance to live.
He'd hoped she would avoid him, stay out of his sight, and give him a wide berth—living out her life far away. Out of respect for their past connection, Locke wouldn't have actively hunted her down.
But now?
He'd given her a path to survival, yet she didn't know how to cherish it. Instead, she had run right into his face to assert her presence.
Megan did it.
Victoria was doing it too.
Locke rarely did things with the intent of total extermination; he almost always left a sliver of hope. But so far, not a single person had grasped it. They all insisted on turning their "narrow escape" into "certain death."
Why bother?
Is living not good enough?
Or did these people forget a fundamental truth?
'When people are killed, they die.'
(T/N:- Indeed, people die when they are killed.)
Victoria glanced at Megan's corpse behind Locke, then looked back at him. "Do you know who it is you just killed?"
Locke snapped back to the present and looked at Victoria with a faint smile. "Do you know that you're about to die?"
When he killed, he never cared about the target's background or what power they represented. If you provoked him, you died.
It was the same logic as making friends.
If a close friend made a joke, Locke wouldn't mind. But if a stranger tried it? Sorry, Locke had neither the interest nor the time for that.
However, Victoria spoke directly: "Megan Walsh, Number 83. She was the eighty-third agent trained by the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, and the personal favorite of the current S.H.I.E.L.D. Director. And S.H.I.E.L.D...."
With that, Victoria began to detail the history of the organization.
Locke listened silently to her description of S.H.I.E.L.D.
It matched his memory; there were few discrepancies.
At most...
In Victoria's mouth, S.H.I.E.L.D. was heavily romanticized as an unstoppable juggernaut. She described it as a massive law enforcement conglomerate established with astronomical funding from the five world powers.
A tyrannical institution where, once they set their sights on someone, that person had no chance of resistance—even if they fled to the ends of the earth. It was either submission or death.
Uh.
That was a bit of a stretch.
Was S.H.I.E.L.D. really that badass?
Locke compared this to the memory of the weak, incompetent S.H.I.E.L.D. that wanted everything but couldn't do any job right. He blinked. 'Why don't I believe you?'
Still...
Locke glanced at the corpse of Megan and then back at Victoria. "So, you know the organization you belong to. What's your number then?"
"Number One!"
"Impressive."
Locke raised an eyebrow and gave a slight nod. "So, you're a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent as well?"
Victoria didn't answer the question directly. Instead, she stared at Locke. "Now, S.H.I.E.L.D. has eyes on you, Peerless."
Locke said nothing.
That was obvious.
So what if they were watching?
He was kind-hearted and didn't *want* to kill, but he could certainly swing the blade. If one came, he'd kill one. If two came, he'd kill a pair.
Of course.
This clearly wasn't why Victoria had come.
Locke seemed to realize something and looked at her. "Are you here out of our old friendship, specifically to warn me of this? If so, thank you."
Victoria stated bluntly, "Those targeted by S.H.I.E.L.D. who do not comply die miserable deaths—some even become their experimental subjects. You are strong, but they are stronger. Therefore, I have a proposal."
'Here it comes.'
Locke thought to himself.
He knew there was a "but."
No wonder she had spent all that time describing S.H.I.E.L.D. as so domineering and invincible. She was setting the stage for him.
Locke had a feeling he knew what she was going to say next.
It was simple.
Even Red Reddington, a gatekeeper of the criminal world, only felt the presence of S.H.I.E.L.D. and couldn't even state their full name. Yet Victoria knew such intricate details.
HYDRA?
To have such detailed intel on S.H.I.E.L.D. and the balls to say "you've offended S.H.I.E.L.D., I have a proposal," there was only one organization brave enough to play that game: HYDRA.
The Centipede Project? Those guys probably hadn't even been born yet.
Except...
He had never realized before that Victoria Knox was a HYDRA plant.
And...
I knew it.
Locke had originally thought this S.H.I.E.L.D. training base—which he hadn't known about before—was the only pure land in S.H.I.E.L.D. untouched by HYDRA's influence.
The result?
He was wrong. HYDRA hadn't just touched it; they had flipped the very first agent produced by that base to their side.
If this were a Wuxia drama, Locke would recommend Nick Fury practice the "Bridging Power" (Jiayi Shen-gong)—the kind of art where you do all the work just for someone else to reap the benefits.
It was just too damn fitting.
"Well?"
"Hmm?"
Locke snapped back and looked at Victoria, who was still alert with her suppressed pistol. He grew interested. "Fine. Let's hear it. What is this 'proposal' of yours?"
As expected.
Victoria spoke plainly: "Join us, Peerless. You are powerful; I've witnessed your growth. Join us, and you will have a far better platform. We can give you as much money as you desire."
Locke's lips curled upward. He nodded. "'Us'? This 'us' of yours? Does it have a name?"
Victoria: "..."
***
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