What a joke.
Sharing information was one thing—what's said is said.
But the satellite phone number of the Peerless Assassin? Don't even dream about it.
'If I give it to you, it's equivalent to me betraying my informant. After that, who would ever come to me with a scoop? Would they just be waiting for me to send them to prison one by one?'
Ms. Patty Finn thought to herself. Only commoners feared law enforcement agencies; she had a lawyer, and as a producer for New York Television, she was backed by the station's entire legal team.
'I don't want to give it up. If you have the guts, let the law tell me I have to.'
Patty Finn looked at the time on her watch, then at Barbara Morse sitting opposite her, before shifting her gaze directly to George.
"If you are still attempting to get my informant's contact details from my mouth, I think I should be calling my lawyer now."
George opened his mouth to speak.
Barbara Morse offered a smile. "Ms. Finn, there's no need for such trouble. If you don't wish to say, we won't force it. We are merely concerned about the reason a witch suddenly appeared in New York City."
Hearing this, Patty Finn looked at Barbara. "So, the government has known about witches all along?"
Barbara simply smiled.
The thirty-sixth generation Dorian priest sitting there spoke up directly: "That Syndra is a witch who controls dark energy. We need to interrogate her."
Barbara's expression shifted.
Patty Finn laughed out of pure amusement. She looked at the Dorian priest.
"What, is the Church's Crusade planning to stage another witch-hunt drama in the USA, a land of democracy and freedom?"
The priest said in a heavy voice, "Dark witches—they only think of how to destroy the world."
Patty's smile was radiant. "I suddenly thought of the content for my next episode."
She'd do a special on the Middle Ages and how the Church persecuted witches.
Yes.
She would ride this wave of popularity to consolidate her ratings and, simultaneously, use the show to have a long-distance dialogue with that Dark Sovereign witch, Syndra, to build a good relationship.
What era was this?
Still playing the persecution game?
The majesty of the Church had long been trampled under the iron heels of modern progress.
To put it another way:
The Pope? How many divisions does he have!
After Patty finished speaking, she didn't even look at the expression on the priest's face. She looked directly at George.
"Either arrest me, or let me go!"
George shook his head. "You're free to go, Patty."
As he spoke.
George shot a somewhat reproachful look at Barbara.
'Good grief, what kind of companion did you bring along?'
The Peerless Assassin was not an ordinary assassin or criminal. He knew how to adapt to local conditions and willingly turn strangers into his allies.
Clearly, Patty Finn had already become a die-hard ally of the Peerless Assassin.
As long as the Peerless Assassin's persona didn't crumble, his popularity in New York City would remain sky-high. Aside from the NYPD, everyone else would likely side with him.
Patty Finn let out a short laugh, glanced at the unfamiliar and demanding priest, and stood up.
George shook his head helplessly and stood up as well.
Barbara Morse looked at the priest with frustration. "Priest, this is not what we agreed on."
The priest thought of the immense energy he felt just by looking at the screen. He looked at Barbara and said, "That is a terrifying dark witch."
Barbara didn't reply.
Dark?
'Looked pretty bright to me.'
Barbara recalled the brief glimpse of the radiant Zero on the television screen.
How could such a bright Dimensional Lord be associated with darkness? And look at those lines!
'I will not allow Hell to turn the mortal world into impurity!'
That was a quintessential protagonist character belonging to the same camp as S.H.I.E.L.D.
"Patty!"
After George chased her out of the conference room, he watched her prepare to leave.
"Wait."
Patty turned around.
George suggested, "Why don't you come sit in my office for a bit? Have a cup of coffee. You haven't slept all night."
Driving now would be considered driving while fatigued.
What if an accident happened?
George checked his watch. "Actually, I have to head out in a bit anyway. I can drop you off?"
Patty looked at George with a smile. "Not afraid of Helen getting jealous?"
George gave a sheepish laugh.
"How could she?"
Patty didn't refuse and walked toward George's office. "By the way, I heard Helen is pregnant again. Congratulations."
George smiled. "Thank you."
'I hope it's a daughter.'
He used to think his eldest daughter was his "sweet little cabbage," but now that she was older, he found out she wasn't just drafty—she was made of black-hearted cotton. George hoped for a little girl to soothe his wounded soul.
George glanced at Beckett walking over from not far away, greeted her, and then pushed the door open. "Go on in and sit, I..."
He paused.
Standing behind Patty, George—who looked as if he had a hand on her shoulder due to the perspective—blinked as he saw a young man and woman sitting on the sofa in his office.
"Gwen, what are you doing here?"
Beckett reached George at that moment. "George, Gwen and Locke are in your off—"
George turned to look at Beckett, who only told him after he'd already opened the door and seen them.
Then.
George froze slightly.
Wait.
Am I feeling guilty?
'For what?'
'What do I have to be guilty about?'
Thinking this, George returned to normal. He walked into the office with Patty and closed the door, looking at a certain "wild boar" who had clearly given up on being a domestic one and was currently looking around in front of his liquor cabinet.
"Stop looking. My office is a public place. If you drink here, you can go straight to lockup."
Locke laughed. "Captain Stacy, I'm just taking a look. I know I'm not twenty-one yet."
George rolled his eyes.
Since the last time he lifted the alcohol ban, Locke had been drinking openly in his apartment. The liquor in his cabinet was disappearing at a rate visible to the naked eye.
The key was that no matter how much Locke drank, he never seemed to get drunk.
This frustrated George. The purpose of lifting the ban was to get Locke drunk; as long as he made a fool of himself, George would have a reason to attack.
Undoubtedly, it was another wasted effort.
Gwen had already stood up, giving Patty a sweet hug.
"Aunt Patty."
Patty looked at Gwen with a smile. "Your mom sent you to keep an eye on George and me, didn't she?"
Gwen's eyes were clear as she shook her head.
"How is that possible? I specifically came to see you, Aunt Patty."
Patty smiled.
*Really? I don't believe it.*
Back in the day, Helen had snatched George right out of her hands. She didn't believe for a second that Helen's daughter was that simple.
Gwen just smiled and pulled Patty down to sit on the sofa, then began chatting about the timing of the Peerless Assassin's motivations.
Just then.
There was a knock on the office door.
Then.
After George said "come in," Barbara Morse pushed the door open and immediately noticed Locke in the office.
"Mr. Broughton."
Barbara shook hands with Locke and smiled. "We meet again."
Locke said, "Agent Morse, it's a pleasure to see you again."
As he spoke.
Locke turned his gaze toward the old priest at the door.
'So this is the guy who was just next door shouting that Carrie's power is dark and needs regulation and judgment.'
'Impressive.'
The Crusades had been dead for how many years? It seemed there were still some unextinguished embers left.
'My people are for me to manage. You try coming at her.'
Locke raised an eyebrow inwardly.
But...
Dorian?
The name felt a bit familiar.
Where had he heard it?
Locke was thinking about it, but before he could retrieve the memory, Barbara was shaking hands with George again.
"Sorry, George. Priest Dorian has some prejudices against witches. His attitude does not represent ours."
Barbara said this while looking at George, but the words were undoubtedly meant for Patty, who was sitting with Gwen.
"Homeland Security has its own witch allies as well. As long as they don't violate the law or national security, we won't look at them any differently."
George's expression remained neutral as he hummed an acknowledgment, watching Barbara leave with the priest—who looked very old but seemed quite arrogant.
"George." Locke looked at the retreating backs of Barbara and Priest Dorian. "Where did this priest come from?"
George shook his head and closed the door. "From the Order of Dorian."
Locke gave an "oh."
'I'll have to go take a look one of these days.'
'Calling my subordinate "dark"... I'm afraid you haven't seen what true darkness looks like yet.'
George returned to his seat, glanced out of the corner of his eye at Gwen and Patty talking, and then looked at Locke. "Going to the shooting range tomorrow. You free?"
Locke snapped back to the present and waved his hand. "Sorry."
George looked at him.
Gwen, who was seriously recording the information Patty had dictated, looked up and glanced at George.
"Dad, Locke already made plans to go out of town with Mr. Chester tomorrow to source ingredients."
George looked at Locke.
"Source ingredients?"
Locke spread his hands. "Can't be helped. Chester is my teacher, after all."
The main reason was that he had to attend the Earl King family auction.
After all, his *Voodoo Encyclopedia* was going up for auction tomorrow night. This auction was effectively the final item on the agenda before the autumn term started.
Once the *Voodoo Encyclopedia* was sold and he had the payment, he could peacefully continue his career as a student.
Actually, it wasn't impossible to use his clone to go there.
But while the dual-tasking was good for emergencies, using it too much always made Locke feel like he was developing signs of schizophrenia.
It just so happened.
Chester did indeed need to make a trip back to Texas, so he simply sent Chester to handle the sourcing so he would have time to attend the auction with the Earl King family.
And...
It seemed the Brotherhood was also interested in this King family auction.
***
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