Chapter 41: Magneto?
The next day.
When Locke returned to Star Building after class, stepping out of the elevator, he raised his eyebrows at his door.
Already?
Yesterday, when Victoria Knox apologized, he had a feeling someone would come for him soon.
But...
Already?
Two attempts.
My family knows how to handle things, and the security at Star Building is as tight as the New York Police Department's headquarters, if not tighter.
How did someone manage to sneak in quietly?
Last time Locke was "kidnapped," it was more of a self-directed act. If someone were to infiltrate Star Building, they could do so stealthily, undetected.
Killing everyone who saw them? No witnesses means no accusations—wouldn't that be a form of assassination?
Of course.
Although Locke is called Wushuang (Peerless), under normal circumstances, he wouldn't resort to such methods. There's still a small chance of things going sideways.
On the twenty-eighth floor.
Just as the uninvited guests lurking outside Locke's apartment thought they might have been discovered, Locke opened the door from inside.
"Hello."
Locke opened the door, looking directly at Callum Lynch and his four accomplices, all dressed in hoods and robes reminiscent of medieval assassins. He raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Magneto, I've always been curious about meeting you in person!"
"..."
Callum hesitated for a moment, then removed his hood, revealing a handsome middle-aged face resembling Magneto, the mutant leader. "I'm not the Magneto you're thinking of."
To Locke, in the world of mutants, he is Magneto.
Locke shrugged and walked towards the bar, under the gaze of Callum and the others. "That's a shame. I've always wanted to meet Magneto."
In stories about mutants, Locke was firmly on Magneto's side.
A wise man once said that seeking peace through compromise leads to the demise of peace, while seeking peace through struggle allows peace to endure.
Professor X was a visionary; Gandhi was an icon.
But Magneto was the true king, worthy of the title.
Locke fetched bourbon from a secret corner of the bar, glancing back at Callum, who was watching him. "Care for a drink?"
Callum looked at Locke. "You're sixteen, if my information is correct."
"So what?"
Locke poured himself a glass, took a sip, and looked at Callum. "As assassins, do laws matter to you?"
The three male and one female assassins exchanged glances, unsure how to respond.
Callum looked at Locke with curiosity. "You know us?"
Locke sneered. "You're here to find Wushuang through me, aren't you?"
Callum and his team exchanged looks and nodded. "Yes, your friend has something that belongs to us. We hope he'll return it."
Each golden apple possesses the power to destroy the world. As former owners of the golden apples, the Brotherhood ensures they never fall into the hands of those who would use them for destruction.
Years ago, Callum was a death row inmate. After awakening his ancestral memories, he understood their mission and resurrected the Roman Brotherhood.
Locke extended his hand. "Stop. I have no connection to whoever you're talking about."
Callum frowned. "But we have..."
Before he could finish, Locke took out a phone from his pocket and tossed it to Callum. "He tied me up at the textile factory. That night, he said he took something from there that might implicate me. If someone comes for him, give them this number to reach him."
Callum looked down at the ordinary prepaid phone in his hand.
Locke issued a clear eviction order. "Now, please leave. I'm not an assassin; I'm just a student. I'm heading to the bank tomorrow to get a loan to replace my door with a safe."
The only female assassin smiled at Locke's evident frustration. "Those safes won't stop us. If we want to get in, we'll find a way."
Locke snapped irritably, "Leave. I'm just a student. I don't want to be involved in your affairs."
Callum studied the prepaid phone in his hand and Locke for a while.
"Excuse us."
Callum addressed Locke, then nodded to his four accomplices, leading them towards the exit.
Soon after, Callum and his team exited the building under the watchful eyes of the two bodyguards on the first floor. By the time the guards reacted and gave chase, Callum and his team had already vanished into the city.
The two guards exchanged glances, frustration etched on their faces.
"Lynch."
As the lone female assassin walked away, she spoke to Callum. "This Rock Broughton is remarkably composed."
Callum nodded. "But the intelligence was at least correct, wasn't it?"
They rescued Victoria, and the information she provided was accurate. Finding Locke could indeed yield contact with the Peerless Assassin.
"Could he be the Peerless Assassin?"
"No."
Callum listened to the female assassin and shook his head. "I've seen his hands. The Peerless Assassin who masterfully uses the New York Fraternity's 'shooting technique' wouldn't have such inexperienced hands."
The female assassin nodded. "When Rock Broughton was in Texas, the Peerless Assassin was there too. He came to New York, and so did the Peerless Assassin. There's more to their relationship than Rock lets on."
Regardless,
Suspicious activities abound. Even if the two aren't the same person, there's an undisclosed connection between them.
But Locke wanted that.
If it's not found, it doesn't exist. If you insist on a connection, bring it on. He could eliminate or bury it regardless.
Lay a bait and reel it in.
Heaven-sent rewards from the comfort of home.
Isn't that sweet?
In the living room,
Locke stood on the balcony overlooking Central Park. He turned, gazing at the apartment opposite, then returned inside.
On the rooftop of the opposite apartment, a keen-eyed Brotherhood assassin observed Locke from a distance, keeping him under surveillance.
At that moment,
The phone rang.
The three male and one female assassins focused on Callum Lynch, awaiting Locke's call.
Ring!