Going...
He was definitely going.
He had never experienced the sensation of someone practically begging to have their face slapped. Now that such a rare opportunity had delivered itself to his doorstep, it would be a tragic waste to pass it up.
Besides, the one lining up for it was Tony Stark. Locke felt like his bucket list was nearing completion.
First, he had clashed with Hydra, then he had poked S.H.I.E.L.D., and now he was moving on to a superhero. At this rate, even if he pulled the "Sun God" bloodline from the gacha tomorrow, he felt he could leave Earth without any regrets, find a quiet little nest, and watch the flowers bloom and fade in peace.
However, today was only the 25th. There were still five days until New Year's Eve. If he rushed it and that arrogant, nose-in-the-air playboy Tony Stark noticed something and canceled the game, what then?
Better to just enjoy the wait.
[Current Mission Multiplier: 30!]
Locke looked at the current leisure multiplier and blinked. Over the next few days, he would focus on playing the role of a sixteen-year-old on vacation, striving to push that multiplier to 100. That would result in a massive payout—potentially breaking 50,000 in both Achievement Points and Potential Points.
After all... once New Year's Eve passed, he wouldn't be as young anymore. He'd be another year older. Seventeen.
Time... where does it go?
...
Five days flashed by.
The six of them sat in the restaurant. Locke looked at the current multiplier—which sat at 50—and said somewhat speechlessly, "Have we run out of things to do?"
Kahn started counting on his fingers. "The water slides, rock climbing, claw machines, karaoke, the dance hall... we even went to the bars and the casino, then went on a shopping spree with the few thousand we won. I feel exhausted after these five days."
Cindy let out a yawn, looking at the still-energetic Locke with disbelief. "Something is wrong with you, Locke."
Locke looked at her curiously.
Cindy shook her head. "I had the wrong impression of you. I thought you were a 'closet' type, but as expected, you really are. At school, seeing your eyes only light up during exams, I thought you didn't have a playful bone in your body. But as it turns out..."
For the past five days, Locke had been the ringleader. And it was a non-stop schedule.
Cindy held her forehead, sipping her drink. "We still have ten days on this ship, but we've finished almost every entertainment project in five. What are we supposed to do for the rest of the trip?"
Gwen, also looking weary, added, "Let's eat, then go back and sleep. I heard the Captain invited a famous female singer to perform at the banquet tonight."
Locke looked up slightly. Sleep? That sounded good. He had noticed that every "atypical" sleep session added a point to the multiplier.
Cindy, Kahn, and the new additions Jennifer and Christian all nodded in deep agreement. The past five days had been too intense. Before, the excitement of one activity after another kept them going, but now that they realized they had seen it all, their mental focus relaxed, and the fatigue of the five-day marathon hit them all at once.
Locke felt fine. His stamina was consistently high. But since Gwen said she was tired and needed a rest, Locke suddenly felt "tired" too.
After finishing lunch and agreeing to meet at the banquet, they all headed back to their respective rooms.
"Locke."
"Hmm?"
Gwen, lying on her side on the bed, opened her eyes. Sensing the movement behind her, she asked suspiciously, "What are you doing?"
Locke nudged closer. "Finding a comfortable position."
Gwen: "..."
Two hours later, Locke—wearing jeans, shirtless, and showing off his lean waist and eight-pack abs—was hit by a pillow. Under Gwen's pushing and prodding, he was shoved out of the bedroom door.
"Don't disturb me!" Gwen's face was slightly flushed as she closed the door. "I'm going to sleep. Literally!"
Locke opened his mouth. 'That's not what you were saying a moment ago.'
...
Half an hour later, Locke opened the suite's front door, planning to wander around on his own.
Just then—
[Sixth Sense Triggered!]
Locke frowned and looked around. The hallway was empty. He looked up. The sky was clear; nothing was falling from above. It wasn't like last time where a corpse had dropped from the heavens.
He recalled a report from noon saying there might be heavy rain tonight, and the outdoor facilities on the deck were temporarily closed.
Then... why did his sixth sense trigger?
Locke raised an eyebrow, feeling intrigued. The "Sixth Sense" wasn't a system skill. Like his Photographic Memory, it was something he was born with. It wasn't obvious at first, but it grew as he aged. And his intuition had always been incredibly accurate.
Relying on this sense, Locke had avoided a lot of trouble back in the early days when his strength wasn't enough to just go "Peerless" on everyone.
But this time, it seemed... vague.
Locke stood on the balcony, watching the artificial pool on a lower deck. He spotted the two most likely candidates for trouble—the mercenaries he had run into at the restaurant.
The two mercenaries were in swim trunks and sunglasses, lying on beach chairs, looking very relaxed. It felt like they were on vacation because, well, they actually were.
In fact... they appeared to be on a honeymoon.
Locke watched the two men with thick chest hair sharing a kiss and felt a sudden chill. He quickly looked away. That was way too much for his eyes to handle.
But if it wasn't them, where was the crisis coming from? It couldn't be coming from the ship itself, could it? Had someone tampered with the Poseidon?
Don't be ridiculous. Look at the people on this ship. The security was hired from the famous Blackwater—battle-hardened vets. How could they let someone sabotage the vessel?
Locke had even tried going into the restricted work areas below deck. To put it simply: Locke could get in silently, but it required using specific high-level skills. If even he found it that difficult, how could someone else commit a crime there without alerting security?
By evening, the sixth sense was still warning him.
Locke was becoming frustrated. To be sure, he had played "safety inspector," checking every possible vulnerability. He had even checked the mercenaries' room. Aside from some eye-searing adult props, he hadn't found so much as a pistol, let alone a dagger.
Unless a tsunami hit, Locke couldn't imagine what would cause this warning. But the Poseidon was state-of-the-art; surely it would predict a tsunami well in advance?
So, what was the intuition sensing?
When Gwen found him, Locke was staring blankly at the chip exchange counter in the casino.
He snapped back to reality, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Gwen in her dress. He temporarily suppressed the sixth sense warning and took the shimmering $5 million chip card he had just exchanged.
"I'm finding you more and more beautiful every day."
Gwen asked curiously, "I saw you standing here. What were you thinking about?"
Locke gave a slight smile. "I was wondering how much I can turn this $5 million chip into tonight."
Gwen laughed. "My dad says that if you're already thinking about winning before you even sit at the table, that's a bad sign."
Locke shrugged. "My luck is constant, not fluctuating."
Whatever. Come what may. No matter what the trouble is, he'd deal with it when it arrived. Right now... slapping a billionaire's face was the priority.
...
When Locke and Gwen arrived at a private room on the second floor, five people were already inside. To be precise, five men and five women.
Including Locke, there was exactly one seat left at the table.
Locke met the gazes of the five men—all clearly high-ranking individuals—without any psychological pressure. After Pepper led Gwen away to join the other ladies, Locke walked over, pulled out his chair, and raised an eyebrow.
"Ooh, looks like my stack is the smallest here."
A white-haired old man sitting opposite him spoke up. "It's not too late to go exchange for more."
Locke pushed his chip card to the dealer, receiving five stacks of chips in return. "That depends on whether you can make me go back for more, Mr...?"
The man sitting next to Locke, Happy Hogan, said, "Joshua, Board Director of the Nevada Timber Group."
Locke glanced at Happy, said thanks, then looked at the old man named Joshua before addressing the group. "Well then, let's begin."
Pleasantries? Unnecessary. Locke had no intention of making friends with these people, nor did he need to.
Pepper, who was chatting with Gwen, looked at Locke sitting there—exuding an aura that was every bit as powerful as Tony's—and smiled. She said to Gwen, "Not bad. Your boyfriend blended right in."
With these capitalists, if you acted subservient, they would only look down on you.
Gwen watched Locke confidently toss out a $500,000 bet without a second thought and smiled. "He's always been very confident."
Though Gwen wasn't entirely sure where Locke's overwhelming confidence came from. At first, she thought it was his wealth. But there was a student at school who was also rich but had a weak personality. Clearly, money can buy confidence, but only in theory.
If it wasn't money, what was it? Gwen thought for a while and decided that this was exactly what attracted her to him. Locke had an indefinable, unexplainable, yet very real "honey-sweet" confidence!
Pepper watched the lovestruck Gwen and chuckled. Young love truly was wonderful.
Pepper's gaze flickered over to Tony Stark, and she secretly shook her head. She only hoped this young man wouldn't grow up to be another playboy.