Marvel: The Super Player

A cold gleam arrived first!

And then…

There was no "and then." Almost the exact moment the dark flash darted in from the outside, several officers standing behind Locke immediately moved to shield him. The microphone dropped straight to the ground with a sharp clatter.

The next second.

Everyone's gaze naturally converged on the card embedded in the microphone, a sight both familiar and unfamiliar.

"This is…"

"The notice!"

"Shit!"

"It's the Peerless Assassin's notice!"

"What?"

The reporters who failed to grab a good spot turned around one after another, looking behind them in an attempt to find the Peerless Assassin, who had practically become an urban legend in New York City.

But even more people focused their eyes on the microphone that had fallen to the ground.

"Quick, quick!"

"Take the shot!"

Locke picked up the microphone again at this time, and then, using some strength, pried the card off.

The crowd of reporters looked toward Locke.

Looking at the content on the notice, Locke first showed a slightly surprised expression, followed by a flash of joy. Then, he looked up and faced the Daily Bugle reporter who had just questioned him for putting on a show.

"Look, someone took the job."

With that.

Locke flipped the notice in his hand, facing it directly toward the New York Daily crew.

Instantly.

Countless lenses locked straight onto that notice!

[Crime Notice!]

[Target: ICA]

[Charge: "Murder, arson, and every imaginable evil"]

[Verdict: Death Penalty!]

[Executor: Peerless!]

[Note: Remember to prepare thirty million in bearer bonds for me. I'm taking this job, Mr. Broughton!]

The note at the bottom explained why this notice, which should have been delivered to the ICA, appeared on Locke's side instead.

An officer looked at the notice in Locke's hand, his expression changing slightly. He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed the office line of Senior Superintendent George Stacy.

Soon.

By the time George rushed from the precinct to New Amsterdam Hospital, the reporters who had been crowding the area, planning to wait for Kahn to be discharged for another wave of hype, had already left.

After all, the traffic secret they wanted most had already arrived.

The Peerless Assassin took the job!

Holy crap.

Who cares about Kahn at a time like this? They needed to rush back and write their articles. Whoever published this news first would win big in this traffic feast.

In the inpatient rest corridor.

Locke looked at George walking out of the elevator and smiled. "George, someone took the job."

George didn't want to talk and looked at the officer who had called him. "Where's the notice?"

The officer took out an evidence bag and handed it to George.

Opening it.

George wore gloves, pulled out the notice inside, brought it to his nose to sniff it, and then flipped to the back, scraping it slightly. He seemed to scrape off some powder and nodded.

"It's him."

No one knew how to verify the authenticity of the notice better than he did.

Only…

George frowned slightly. In the records of the Peerless Assassin, although the targets included gangsters and the like, there had never been a time like today where the entire ICA was directly marked.

What was he trying to do?

The entire ICA is guilty, and he plans to leave no one alive?

Furthermore.

Where is the Peerless Assassin going to investigate the ICA? After all, you don't even know the ICA's headquarters. Even if you want to kill them, you can't find the place.

You can't just fly directly to London and ask around as you kill people.

That's completely unscientific.

In fact.

Locke's existence could never be explained by science.

Truth be told, that notice was thrown to himself by Locke. While going back to take a shower and change clothes, the Locke currently appearing at the hospital was actually a clone.

As for the real Locke, at this very moment, he was wearing glasses, driving toward Jersey City, heading for the private plane that had been arranged last night and had been waiting for a long time.

Back at the hospital.

George put away the notice, looked at Locke and Gwen, and then said to the officer.

"Keep an eye on them."

The officer nodded.

After George returned to the New York Police Department, Beckett walked over. "George, Mr. Shelton is already in your office."

George frowned.

Beckett reminded him, "Clyde Shelton, CIA?"

George reacted.

Pushing open the door.

Clyde Shelton, whose name was read as Clyde but written as the man from the "Has Fallen" series, looked at George entering the room and said directly, "I want to see that Englishman."

George smiled. "Sure!"

Clyde nodded. "Thank you."

"Don't be so quick to thank me. That's not how transactions work."

"…"

George looked at the silent Clyde, laughed, walked over to the liquor cabinet, and took out a bottle of cheap whiskey. He wasn't as extravagant as Locke, drinking a hundred thousand dollar Thunder Bourbon every day.

"Here."

"Thanks!"

"Don't mention it."

George handed the poured whiskey to Clyde, then adjusted his tie, sat down, and looked at Clyde.

"As of right now, your stance and ours are the same. We both want to find the ICA. And now is not a good time to lie to each other."

The Peerless Assassin's notice had been issued. According to the Peerless Assassin's usual habits, within twenty-four hours, at most seventy-two hours, something big would definitely happen somewhere in the world.

"Besides."

George took a sip of whiskey, shrugged, and looked at Clyde. "I'm the New York Police Department, not the global police. I can even hand that Englishman over to you guys."

Clyde looked at George.

George looked completely serious.

He was telling the truth. What did he want a spy for? He couldn't eat him. If they directly prosecuted him, the man hadn't actually done anything bad. Instead of waiting for twenty-four hours to pass and releasing him directly, it was better to make a deal with the CIA, who loved spies.

"What do you want?"

"All information on Lorraine Broughton."

"That's impossible, you're not…"

"I have a National Security Level A security clearance. And I've already learned more than enough from Locke's side."

"Then…"

"I don't want my daughter's safety compromised because of Locke's mother. No, it has already compromised my daughter's safety. If it's a danger, I need to know the whole truth of the matter."

Clyde frowned deeply as he stared at George. After a moment of silence, he nodded.

"Fine, but you are not allowed to show that file to anyone. In fact, I will only let you see it while I am present."

George nodded. "Deal."

Seeing this, Clyde nodded and said directly, "The car is downstairs. But first, we need to confirm one thing. I need to spend some time in a room with this Kurylenko guy."

George smiled and stood up.

Five minutes later.

In a room inside the New York Police Department building that had absolutely no surveillance.

George opened the door.

Sitting inside, Agent Kurylenko, who had been locked up all night with no one to turn to, looked at George walking in and repeated his words,

"I am a citizen of London, I demand to call the embassy."

"You'll make that call."

These words were not spoken by George, but by Clyde, who walked in right behind George.

Kurylenko looked at Clyde entering the room and paused.

The next second.

Kurylenko laughed. "CIA!"

Clyde said thank you to George, pulled out a chair, sat down, and looked at Kurylenko.

"MI6!"

George crossed his arms, leaning against the door.

Kurylenko glanced at George, then looked at Clyde as if accepting his fate. "Alright, you caught me. You can call my boss now."

His tone was relaxed, lacking any awareness of being a captured spy.

But this was normal.

The relationship between the US and London was complicated. Generally speaking, even if they caught each other's agents, they would choose to exchange intelligence, with very little threat to life.

But…

This time was different.

You crossed the line, and it seems you crossed it a long time ago.

Clyde smiled, and after confirming Kurylenko's identity, he pulled out his phone directly.

"Speak!"

"Confirmed."

"Good!"

Clyde hung up the phone, stood up, and looked at Kurylenko. "Mr. Hanks, let's go. Change of scenery, I'll buy you a coffee."

With that.

Two CIA agents in black suits walked in, took the keys handed over by George, and opened Kurylenko's handcuffs. With a swift movement, a black hood was placed straight over Kurylenko's head.

Soon.

The two black-suited agents left the room with Kurylenko.

Clyde looked at George, who had his arms crossed, making no attempt to hide anything.

"Fortunately, you caught Kurylenko. Otherwise, we probably wouldn't have found the leak."

George didn't speak.

Clyde sighed. "Someone in the agency colluded with MI6… or rather, the ICA. When Mr. Nobody used his clearance to unlock Lorraine Broughton's file, an insider was already watching Mr. Nobody. That's why the ICA wanted Locke dead."

"Why?"

"We're still checking!"

Clyde shook his head, then sneered. "But this is good. If the ICA didn't jump out, both me and Mr. Nobody would have thought it was just an unfortunate accident. Right now, the KGB and MI6 aren't the only ones who know how to seek revenge. We do too!"

The ICA people came.

The MI6 people came as well.

No other evidence was needed. It was already crystal clear.

Lorraine Broughton did not die in the line of duty. She died from an inside job, a despicable betrayal, or rather, she died at the hands of MI6.

In an office at Langley.

Mr. Nobody held up his phone, his face expressionless. "Last chance, M. Tell me the name, or else you won't get your agent back. You're the ones who wanted to break the rules of the game."

M hung up the phone directly and cleanly, not even intending to make an excuse.

Heh.

Mr. Nobody let out a soft laugh and looked at his assistant, Agent L. "Put the internal blueprint of that building by the River Thames on the dark web. Sell it to Red!"

Agent L nodded.

***

Bonus chapter for every 100 stones like usual.

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