Marvel: The Super Player

"So tiny!"

"She's not tiny, she's actually pretty big."

"Way too ugly."

"That is true."

Inside the patient room at New Amsterdam Hospital, Locke and Gwen stood over a small bassinet, critiquing a little newborn wrapped in swaddling clothes who couldn't even open her eyes and had somewhat wrinkled skin.

George, who had just walked in from outside and overheard their far-from-quiet conspiracy, looked a bit dark-faced.

"Step away from my daughter."

Gwen turned around and stomped her foot. "Dad!"

George's eyelids twitched. "I didn't mean for Locke to stay away from you, I meant for Locke to stay away from Andy."

Yes.

Andy—Andy Stacy, born at three o'clock in the morning on December 6, 2005.

After this youngest daughter was born, how should one put it—George suddenly came to a realization. A grown daughter cannot be kept at home, and Gwen's entire shape was already nearly identical to Locke's.

Why bother anymore?

Forget it. He was tired at heart and didn't want to play this game anymore.

Hearing George's self-abandoning tone, which sounded very much like someone neglecting their old love after getting a new one, Gwen finally couldn't help but say.

"Dad, I am your daughter too."

George shooed Locke and Gwen away, then sat down on the cot, staring at Andy who was still a little tiny thing. He then looked at Gwen, smiling without saying a word.

But the meaning seemed to have been expressed very clearly.

Gwen opened her mouth and looked over at Helen, who had just stepped out of the bathroom after taking a shower, intending to lodge a complaint.

Helen laughed out loud and shook her head, tying up her hair to indicate that she was not participating in the game between the father and daughter. She looked at George.

"Are the discharge papers finalized?"

George nodded. "They're done."

Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and in Helen's words, she certainly did not want to spend her Christmas Eve celebrating the New Year inside a hospital.

In reality, she could have left on the seventh after giving birth, but because a minor issue occurred during labor, she needed to remain in the hospital for observation.

Fortunately, it wasn't a major issue.

At that time, when the doctor said there was an issue, Locke had even thought about rushing in to give Helen a massive Life Elixir. After all, he had considered changing a stepfather for Gwen, but he had never said anything about changing a stepmother for her.

Let alone acting on it, he didn't even have such a thought.

As for George?

Yesterday when he went to cut down a Christmas tree with George, frankly speaking, Locke had an opportunity to let the chainsaw in his hand accidentally slice across George's stomach.

But...

He wasn't Thomas Hewitt, and there were many families picking out Christmas trees together nearby. With too many eyes and ears around, Locke could only dismiss that notion.

Returning to Gwen's apartment.

Locke intended to say goodbye and head home. His main purpose in going to the hospital today was to drop Gwen off, and then, along the way, help bring her things back. Although winter break had started, he had quite a lot of business to handle.

At the very least, he had reconsidered and accepted the Central Intelligence Agency's invitation again, based on the role Mr. Nobody played in his lawsuit against London.

It was the same old saying.

Did anyone truly believe that a person with absolutely no background could casually extort a law enforcement agency?

Such a person simply did not exist.

If they did, it only meant you hadn't dug deep enough.

Although half a month had passed since Locke filed his lawsuit against London, the most dominant viewpoint on the internet was that if a person without money or power had attempted this, the court probably wouldn't even have accepted the case.

Precisely because the one suing was Locke Broughton—the Locke Broughton who could afford to hire Wall Street's number one legal team—the court accepted it, and London quietly paid the damages to announce a settlement.

These words...

Made a lot of sense.

Locke had money, so he could persuade the Laun legal team to push this case into court, forcing the people from London to settle, but it could never have been that fast.

In short.

Ever since the break started on the fifteenth, Locke basically went to see Clyde Shelton every day at that secret base to learn how to be a CIA operative from scratch. Coincidentally, he could drop Gwen off at Osborn Industries in the morning for her internship, which counted as him going to work, and then pick her up after work.

It was very nice.

A nine-to-five routine.

Gwen even joked with Locke that they were stepping into society ahead of schedule.

Locke really wanted to say that it was impossible for him to work for someone else in this lifetime. As for being a CIA operative? That was just a necessity, and furthermore, his position as an operative was different from other assembly-line agents.

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

Inside an exercise corridor used for drills, Locke held a Glock, walking forward expressionless. With one shot per target, he directly blew the heads off the targets that popped up from unknown locations in front of him.

The gangsters above—accurate headshots!

The hostages held by the gangsters—accurate headshots!

Hostages?

Nonexistent.

"Beep!"

Clyde Shelton turned on the lights, blew his whistle, and walked over from not far away. "Stop!"

Locke ejected the magazine and cleared the chamber, confirming it was completely safe.

Clyde Shelton walked over to a target, his brow twitching as he tore off the target paper. He walked back to Locke, pointing at the lovely hostage who had been headshotted right along with the gangster.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Locke looked over. "There were more gangsters ahead, weren't there?"

"Yes, and then?"

"No then."

Locke said, "The background you gave me was to rescue the hostage held in the final room. This hostage who popped out unexpectedly could very well be an enemy in disguise. Furthermore, even if she isn't, if I don't secure control over her after rescuing her, it will expose my operation, and you said our mission is top secret."

"So, you killed the hostage?"

"You said the mission is classified and we cannot allow any complications, didn't you?"

"I..."

Clyde Shelton opened his mouth but said nothing.

Fortunately, Clyde Shelton did not know Arthur's mentor. Otherwise, Locke felt Clyde would definitely have common ground with Arthur's mentor, who taught him how to sneak around back then.

Regarding how to be an operative, Locke felt it wasn't difficult at all.

In fact...

For many of the training exercises, Locke had a sense of deja vu. Later, upon careful reflection, holy hell, wasn't that just Chester taking the exact template he used to train him as an assassin and shifting it over here to use?

Although it wore a different outer shell and a different name, the core substance seemed exactly the same.

Locke felt this was somewhat magical and had originally intended to ask Chester if this training method was plagiarized from the CIA. However, just as winter break started, Chester and Agatha went off on a trip. If he wanted to find him, he would probably have to wait until next year.

Clyde shook his head. "Alright, that's enough for today."

He felt Locke's psychology might be somewhat abnormal.

A normal person, even if given a top-secret prompt, would choose to shoot the gangster and preserve the hostage upon seeing them just now.

Unlike Locke.

Without the slightest hesitation, counting every single one, he killed as many gangsters as appeared. But likewise, before seeing the ultimate objective, he killed as many hostages as appeared too.

This left Clyde feeling somewhat disoriented.

He would have to speak with Mr. Nobody later and see if the psychology courses could be brought forward.

Clyde thought to himself as he packed up the items in the secret training base alongside Locke. "What are your plans for Christmas?"

Locke glanced at Clyde. "What about you?"

Clyde smiled. "Taking Angélique to Paris with Miller."

Locke nodded. "Paris is a good place."

Speaking of Paris, Locke instantly recalled Kim, whose trip to Paris to meet her destiny had been pushed back repeatedly.

Next summer break, Kim would be going to Paris too.

He said so.

"What about you then?"

"Me? I haven't decided yet."

Locke gathered the target papers in his hand, threw them into the incinerator bin in front of him, and said.

"Probably... pilot a yacht out to sea."

At most, he would pilot the Gwen and catch the sea breeze on the water.

But...

In the dead of winter, catching the sea breeze?

Locke always felt something was a bit off about that.

"No plans to travel?"

"None."

Locke shook his head, thinking for a moment. "Probably none."

Clyde nodded and remarked, "I was just asking casually, not monitoring you. Furthermore, you don't need to worry about the London side anymore; they are currently in absolute chaos."

The corners of Locke's mouth turned up as he gave a short laugh.

It was the same old saying.

Previously, when the ICA was in the dark, the people who had been targeted wanted to strike back but couldn't find an object for their revenge. Now, although the ICA had been completely flattened by the Peerless Assassin, MI6 and MI5 were still there.

And indeed.

Within this past month, the number of attacks London encountered had vastly exceeded the total for the entire year.

It could be said that the grand city of London was covered in smoke, and they didn't even have time to put out all the fires. How could they possibly have the energy to send people over to look for trouble with Locke?

"And even if they wanted to come over, it would be useless!"

Clyde looked at Locke. "Thanks to that thirty million bounty you posted, Mr. Nobody apprehended the director who was secretly contacting and cooperating with the ICA. He will not receive a trial."

Locke smiled. "Dead?"

With a click, Clyde locked the last firearm into the glass cabinet, turned around, and looked at Locke.

"Once you officially join, you will understand what Lorraine Broughton means to us."

Locke did not speak.

He wasn't joining the CIA for the sake of Lorraine Broughton.

Everything was merely for the sake of expanding missions.

However...

This time, the mission was completely and thoroughly finished, and Lorraine Broughton had once again become a figure on paper, returning to the ranks of paper figures.

After he leaked the details of who Lorraine Broughton truly was, up to the current moment, not a single enemy with a grudge against Lorraine Broughton had come knocking on his door.

This allowed Locke to breathe a sigh of relief.

Screwing him over once, he could understand; he would just consider it paying back the debt of giving birth to him.

But if she screwed him over too many times.

Then...

Locke pondered whether he should head over to Lorraine Broughton's grave with a shovel to pay his respects.

***

Yesterday before reset I saw 480+ stones. Since we came so close already. I'll drop this as a bonus.

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