Marvel: The Super Player

"Sir…"

"What is it?"

"Doing this, won't it be a bit…"

Agent L froze upon hearing Mr. Nobody's order. Throwing the internal security layout of that building by the River Thames onto the dark web for a clearance sale?

This…

Without a doubt, it was a blatant slap in the face.

Mr. Nobody let out a soft chuckle and looked at Agent L. "Do you think I'm doing this for Red?"

Agent L frowned.

Mr. Nobody shook his head. This was exactly why he kept Agent L as an assistant instead of sending him out on field assignments.

"The Peerless Assassin took Locke's contract."

According to reliable sources, a private plane had just landed at the private airport in Jersey City less than half an hour ago. After fueling up, it immediately took off again.

"The Peerless Assassin?"

"Yes."

Mr. Nobody picked up a photograph of the Peerless Assassin from his desk and smiled.

"How is the investigation into the Peerless Assassin going?"

"Very little," Agent L replied. He couldn't say they had nothing, but it was essentially a fruitless search.

"We only know that the Peerless Assassin first appeared in Texas, has a fondness for wearing sunglasses and driving an Audi R8. Other than that, we've found nothing. It's as if this person is a ghost."

"Maybe he really is one."

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

Mr. Nobody tapped the desk and looked at Agent L. "Sell the information to Red. Price it at five million. The Peerless Assassin gets the meat, we drink some broth. It's not asking for too much."

If M hadn't hung up on him just now, he wouldn't have sold this information to Red. He might have even given M a friendly warning about how terrifying the Peerless Assassin was, provided she told him who the insider within the CIA was.

In reality…

Mr. Nobody already had a suspect in mind for the mole, but he only had suspicions and lacked concrete evidence for now.

What a pity.

Mr. Nobody thought to himself. Looking at the phone that was ringing again—likely from M after she finally made up her mind to give an answer—he laughed softly and pressed the decline button.

You didn't take the opportunity when it was given.

In that case, let someone who won't give you choices do the talking.

Buzz!

High up in the sky, a silver-white plane soared through the blue sky and white clouds.

The seats were comfortable.

The flight attendants were beautiful.

The service was impeccable.

Locke, wearing sunglasses, took a sip of bourbon from his glass. He scanned the layout of the private jet and spoke to Red, who sat opposite him also wearing color-changing glasses.

"How much did this plane cost?"

Red, who had rushed all the way from Cuba early this morning specifically to pick Locke up, looked down at his newspaper and spoke without raising his head. "An African warlord built it and ran out of money, so he used it to clear a debt with me."

With that.

Red looked up at Locke. "Want one too?"

Locke replied, "I'm thinking about it."

He had already bought a yacht, so it felt a bit incomplete not to buy a private plane.

"Don't buy one for the next couple of years."

"Oh?"

"Wait a few years. Perhaps around the end of 2008 would be a good choice."

"The reason?"

"An economic crisis should be hitting right around then."

"…"

Locke opened his mouth slightly, looking at Red who was giving him investment advice with market predictions and financial metrics. A bit amused, he said,

"You're the gatekeeper of the criminal underworld. Since when did you become such an expert on economics?"

Red laughed heartily. "Never too old to learn, my friend."

Locke rolled his eyes.

Just then.

"Raymond!"

Dembe, who had been sitting alone a short distance away, walked over and handed a tablet to Red.

Red looked up at Dembe, then focused his gaze on the information displaying on the screen. He couldn't help but sit up straight.

"Hiss!"

Red drew a breath, glanced at Locke sitting across from him, and then took the phone from Dembe's hand. Once connected, he said directly, "Make the payment!"

The next second.

Red looked at Locke. "You're going after MI6?"

Locke looked up at Red and smiled. "I thought you weren't interested."

Red laughed out loud. "At first I wasn't, but now I am."

Locke gave an "oh," and then realized something. "Does it have to do with what you just bought?"

Red said, "The exact security layout of the MI6 building!"

Locke was slightly taken aback.

"Something like that… is actually obtainable?"

"Do you know who the seller is?"

"Who?"

"Who it is doesn't matter. What matters is that this seller represents the CIA. That's enough."

"…How much?"

"Five million."

Locke paused for a moment, then shook his head, stating firmly, "You got ripped off."

This information was definitely leaked by Mr. Nobody.

Without a doubt.

Locke could be certain of one more thing, which was that Mr. Nobody was completely using him as a weapon while sitting back to watch the tigers fight, all while turning a profit for himself.

Is a blueprint of the MI6 building worth five million?

Don't be ridiculous.

As for its actual value, calling it utterly worthless might be an exaggeration, but it was practically a scrap of paper. If Locke wanted intelligence on London, he would definitely go to the Russians.

Compared to the British themselves, the Russians understood the British and their affairs much better.

Most importantly, he was here to make money.

This was also the reason Locke had called Red along. However, Locke hadn't told Red that his target this time was MI6. He only mentioned that if there was anything needed from London, he would take care of it all in one go.

He did want to look for the ICA.

Unfortunately.

He didn't know where the ICA's front door was. Fortunately, he knew exactly where the front door of MI6 was.

That was enough.

You threatened my friend, trying to force me to show my face.

Then I will threaten MI6. I'd like to see if you, the ICA, will crawl out.

Looking at the information transferred to his tablet, Locke reviewed it and looked up. "Red, you should know that the money spent on buying this intelligence doesn't count toward my payment, right?"

Red smiled. "My friend, if you can help me retrieve three specific files from this room, I am willing to give you another million."

"Which room?"

"This one."

Locke looked at the room on the third floor where Red was pointing and nodded. "Fine. So that's the three files inside, plus the ICA hard drive, right?"

Red nodded. "That's correct. I will pay a total of ten million in compensation."

Locke smiled. "Alright, I'll see what I can do!"

Bringing Red along was precisely to farm a few more missions. After all, leaving the country wasn't an everyday occurrence.

And…

Locke didn't plan on staying in London for long or playing any convoluted games. Resolving this quickly and heading home early was the priority. In another month, it would be Christmas again.

Two days was plenty of time to orchestrate a cinematic, big-screen spectacle!

Inside the building by the River Thames, a place whose true nature was known to the entire world.

"The Peerless Assassin!"

"Gender: Male."

"Name unknown, age unknown, identity unknown!"

"Has a strong preference for the Audi R8!"

"First appeared in 2002. Later, appeared in New York in 2004. Up until now, most of his active time has been spent within New York State."

"The Peerless Assassin always prefers using crime notices before killing, claiming to never kill innocents."

"…"

"That's enough."

Hearing the assistant drone on with the profile, M couldn't help but look up. "I didn't ask you to read his resume. I'm asking if we have captured this Peerless Assassin?"

The assistant opened his mouth, then very wisely shook his head.

If the Peerless Assassin could be captured, he would have been caught long ago instead of remaining free until now.

M's expression looked rather grim.

She had just received some very unsettling news. The security layout of her building had been directly exposed on the dark web. Although it was purchased in the shortest time possible, anyone with a keen eye could tell at a single glance that the sample layout provided belonged to this very building.

M dialed Mr. Nobody's number once again.

This time, the phone went straight to voicemail.

"Son of a bitch"

M uttered a rare profanity. Forcing down the urge to smash her phone to pieces, she redirected the call to the ICA office.

The call connected.

"Look at the fine mess you three idiots have made!"

M could no longer hold back the moment the call connected. "Is this the plan you said the CIA would abandon? Is this the bounty you claimed no one would take?"

On the other end of the line, Mr. I's tone sounded completely normal. "M, relax. This isn't New York. This is London. London is our territory!"

M said directly, "Have you found that Peerless Assassin?"

Mr. I replied, "We are searching. He is very cunning, but we have his visual profile. As long as he appears, he will definitely be spotted by us. London is the city with the highest density of surveillance cameras in the world."

No one could vanish into thin air in London.

London was dubbed the city of cameras, and that nickname wasn't given lightly.

"Shit!"

After hanging up, M dialed Mr. Nobody's number again, only to receive the voicemail notification once more. Finally unable to contain herself, she hurled her phone straight against the wall.

"Shit!"

Just then.

"Beep, beep, beep!"

M grabbed the desk phone, sounding highly irritated. "What is it?"

The female assistant sitting outside hesitated for a second before quickly saying, "Ma'am, a person calling himself Peerless is on the line. He doesn't have an appointment, but he said that if he called, you would definitely be interested in taking it. He's on line two."

Peerless?

M froze slightly. Forcing her expression to remain composed, she gave an "uh-huh" and switched over to line two.

"Hello."

"M!"

The Peerless Assassin's voice echoed directly through the receiver. "I assume you know who I am by now."

M remained expressionless. "What do you want?"

"The ICA!"

"What?"

"It can't be helped, M. All the information I've gathered indicates that the ICA is inextricably linked to your MI6. So, I have no choice but to come to your doorstep and ask you to spill the details."

"I don't understand…"

"M, I'm not here to ask for your help. Quite the contrary, I'm here to give you a multiple-choice question. Right now, you have two choices!"

"…"

***

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