"Hey, did you watch *Exploring the Mysterious* last night?"
"Yeah, I watched it. What about it?"
"What did you think?"
"Didn't they say it was all special effects?"
"Do you actually believe that?"
"I don't."
"Then you..."
"If the government wants us to believe it, then we'll just believe it!"
"..."
At an open-air café near the Osborn Bio-Tower, Locke and Gwen were having breakfast together. Hearing the conversation of two pedestrians walking past the street not far away, they looked at each other and shared a light laugh.
Without a doubt.
Last night's live broadcast had once again been debunked by several major newspapers, with the added verification of a Hollywood director.
Once again, the narrative was spun as a collaborative film promotion between a famous Hollywood horror director and New York Television. Yes, exactly the same excuse as last time.
As for why the movie from last time—the one about a witch turning a man into a giant grey rat—had still not premiered, the director's explanation during interviews was thoroughly convincing.
They wanted the film to have a simultaneous global release.
As of now, because certain scenes in the film did not meet the auditing standards, they were still actively communicating and trying to resolve the issues. As soon as the audit cleared, they would release the official movie trailer.
Yep.
Many people actually believed this reason when they heard it, especially after several Hollywood actors came forward to testify.
With a few targeted testimonies shaping the overall narrative, combined with the mysterious deletion of posts and bans across social media platforms, the massive wave of public heat generated during last night's broadcast had already begun to recede today.
Of course.
It was still the same truth: those who chose to believe it was real would believe it no matter what anyone said.
Gwen sipped her coffee, a trace of curiosity in her voice.
"Locke, what do you think is the reason the Peerless Assassin is doing this?"
Locke looked over at her.
Gwen mused, "Think about it. If the Peerless Assassin truly wanted to expose the truth of the world to the general public, he ought to have reacted by now."
The previous incident with Barry the Rat was an excellent example. Faced with a sweeping, overwhelming cleanup operation and even denials from Hollywood, the Peerless Assassin hadn't made a single move to counter them.
Locke smiled slightly. "Perhaps the Peerless Assassin feels that those who understand will naturally understand."
Gwen nodded, then shook her head again. "That's true, but those who understand already know without the Peerless Assassin needing to popularize it. So, why exactly is he doing it?"
Locke shrugged. "Maybe he just enjoys the feeling of being on camera?"
He certainly did enjoy it.
He didn't have to run all over the place. He just had to catch a target, make an appearance, and then his influence values would shoot up all on their own. It was incredibly easy.
But Gwen shook her head. "No."
"Huh?"
Gwen raised her head and looked at Locke, her expression turning somewhat serious.
"I think it's not that simple. Every action must have a fundamental motivation. For example, people eat when they are hungry, and they look to earn money when they are broke. The Peerless Assassin taking this matter to a live television broadcast must have a core motivation behind it."
Locke smiled. "Is that so?"
Gwen lowered her head, seemingly lost in thought.
Locke didn't say anything to disrupt her train of thought.
Gwen was very intelligent.
Locke could give George certain misconceptions to lead him in the wrong direction, but he couldn't do that with Gwen. If Gwen happened to notice an anomaly, it would be a major disaster.
After a long moment.
Gwen looked up at Locke.
"Let's go."
Locke hummed in response.
"Where to?"
Today was Gwen's day off. After all, there were only three days left before Midtown High School reopened for the new term.
"The NYPD headquarters."
Gwen looped her arm through Locke's as they walked toward the Audi R8 parked across the street.
"Dad invited Aunt Patty Finn over for a chat early this morning. If we go over now, maybe Aunt Patty Finn can give us a clue about the Peerless Assassin's underlying motivation."
'I think that's highly unlikely.'
Locke carefully recalled the contents of his conversations with Patty. It had all been about dimensions, Hell, witches, and similar topics.
After all, he intended to establish a long-term cooperative mechanism.
Familiarizing her with these concepts now would prevent the need for a rushed, last-minute explanation when he needed to use the platform in the future. What if time was tight and the task was heavy next time?
In short, aside from those topics, he hadn't uttered a single word concerning himself or anything related to the Peerless Assassin.
Therefore, if Gwen could still deduce his actual motivation under these circumstances, it would only prove one thing.
Gwen was using a cheat code.
And it would be an absolute brute-force hack that bypassed all logic.
"And one more thing."
After getting into the car, Gwen flashed a very beautiful smile. Looking at Locke, she said softly,
"Mom also wanted me to go check on Dad. You know, to ensure that... well, certain unpleasant situations don't occur."
Locke looked at Gwen.
A wave of realization washed over him.
Alright, that reason was likely the real motive for visiting the precinct. The previous excuse about searching for the Peerless Assassin's motivation was entirely a cover-up cooked up to mask the true purpose.
That was fine then.
Locke started the car. "I think George isn't that kind of person. Helen doesn't need to worry so much."
'Better a dead fellow than a dead poor fellow.'
George, oh George, you might never know exactly what I have silently done for your promotions and raises, but that's fine, as long as I know.
Locke thought merrily to himself.
Soon.
NYPD Headquarters.
Locke and Gwen's entry into the precinct building was completely smooth sailing. After all, neither of them was an obscure nobody; both were highly prominent leading figures among New York City's youth.
Moreover, Gwen was George's daughter—the absolute well-behaved pride and joy whom George constantly boasted about twenty-four hours a day.
Of course.
That was mostly before she started dating. Ever since Gwen entered a relationship, the frequency of George's praises toward his daughter seemed to have noticeably dropped.
"Oh?"
As Locke and Gwen took the elevator up to the floor where George's office was located, Kate Beckett, who was holding a stack of files and preparing to make copies, noticed the two walking out of the elevator.
"Gwen?"
Gwen looked over and greeted her with a smile.
"Good morning, Detective Beckett!"
Following George's steady string of promotions and raises, he naturally harbored intentions of promoting his old comrades—the ones he knew possessed solid capabilities but lacked the skill to flatter and play politics.
But Beckett and the others had all declined.
After all, the like-minded group had become close friends because they all genuinely loved solving cases, not because they chose to work at a department like the NYPD for promotions and raises.
Furthermore, they didn't understand political maneuvering at all.
In the words of the group, it was enough for George alone to climb to the top. In the future, if they encountered some wealthy, powerful individuals or grand figures while breaking a case, they would have someone backing them from above. And they fully trusted that George would cover for them.
As long as their evidence was rock-solid!
Beckett looked at the arriving Gwen and Locke, smiling.
"Here to see George? He's currently in a small conference room holding a meeting with people from Homeland Security. You two can go sit in his office first."
Gwen expressed her thanks, then looked around the floor with a bit of curiosity at the chaotic influx of rowdy young men being led in and out, shouting all kinds of raw language.
"Detective Beckett, who are these people..."
Beckett glanced over, her tone carrying a hint of helplessness. "It's all because of that Peerless broadcast last night."
Locke also looked at Beckett with curious eyes.
After the broadcast ended last night, he had sent Carrie home, shared a few words with Chester, and then directly went back home to sleep.
Beckett shook her head.
Ever since last night's live broadcast concluded, a lot of opportunistically rowdy youths had come swarming out.
"Shouting about the descent of Hell!"
"Yelling about the impurity of the mortal world!"
Reaching this point, Beckett couldn't help but shake her head once more.
"It would be one thing if these people were just marching in the middle of the night, but this particular crowd tried to use the chaos as an opportunity to run to Wall Street for a 'zero-dollar shopping' spree. Isn't that insane? We've been busy all night long. Every single precinct station under the NYPD is packed to the brim, waiting for the District Attorney's office to file charges."
Originally, the New York liberal factions had shown signs of a resurgence.
However, Locke had set a precedent, and then the FBI along with the DA's office delivered a series of crushing legal blows. Had it not been for words coming down from Washington, the FBI and the DA might have thrown those animal welfare organizations and equal rights organizations directly into prison on charges of treason.
In any case, they possessed the evidence. Even though a close inspection would reveal that the evidence was fabricated, the proof demonstrating it was fake had already been utterly destroyed.
All in all, with that first organized wave of looters dismantled and the formal charges against Nina Bell's family finalized, the conservative factions had firmly regained the upper hand. For these rowdy groups to act aggressively in New York City now would probably be just as difficult as trying to do so in Texas.
Locke looked at the noisy, chaotic scene filling the room.
Beckett handed the files in her hand to a passing officer, asking her to help make copies, and then turned to Gwen.
"Come on, I'll take you to George's office."
Gwen and Locke thanked her.
Inside a small conference room not far away.
Ms. Patty Finn held her forehead in her hands, raising her eyes with an incredibly exhausted expression.
George sat in the main seat.
Barbara Morse and a thirty-sixth generation priest from the Order of Dorian sat directly opposite them.
Patty Finn spoke with considerable exasperation.
"Let me say this one more time. I am a producer. When someone offers me content for a show, why should I refuse? Furthermore, I have already shared all the information I obtained from my informant with you. As for the cover story, I cooperated fully by stating it was all just a movie promotion. But you want my informant's direct contact information? I am sorry, but without obtaining explicit permission from my informant, I will absolutely not give you his satellite phone number. Don't even think about it."
***
Damn we were almost there for 500 stones
Here's a bonus since we came close enough
***
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