Marvel: The Super Player

Locke was a bit frantic when he laid all his cards on the table and revealed his identity as Lorraine Broughton to the entire world back then.

After all...

He disliked trouble, and he disliked trouble that others dumped onto him even more.

Fortunately.

Lorraine Broughton's trouble ended there. In fact, even Lorraine Broughton herself ended there.

"See you next year, Clyde!"

"Merry Christmas, Locke."

"Oh, right."

As Locke and Clyde walked out of the warehouse and arrived at the parking lot together, Locke unlocked his car, grabbed a wrapped little gift from the passenger seat, and tossed it straight to Clyde.

Clyde caught it. "What is this?"

Locke smiled. "A Christmas gift for Angie."

"Wow, this is too—"

"It is not for you."

"Alright."

Seeing this, Clyde thanked Locke on behalf of his daughter, Angie. Then, he opened his car door and drove out of the parking lot first.

Locke stood in place and smoked a cigarette before finally leaving and driving toward the Osborn Biotech Tower.

Soon.

Not far away, holding an umbrella and wearing a down jacket and a scarf, Gwen opened the passenger door, shook off her umbrella, and sat inside.

"Gosh, it is freezing outside."

Locke looked out the window at the heavy snow and found it somewhat surreal. "You might not believe it, but when I came back from Brooklyn, it was not snowing over there."

This was the annoying thing about big cities. The weather forecast was different for every borough.

It was not like certain island countries.

Today... sunny nationwide. That meteorologist must have a very happy life.

"Let us go."

Locke started the car and slowly drove out. "The restaurant reservation is set."

Inside the restaurant, it was very warm.

The lighting was a soft, warm yellow, giving off a cozy atmosphere. This was a restaurant that had just opened on Fifth Avenue last month. Most restaurants capable of opening on Fifth Avenue possessed a few tricks up their sleeves.

"Alright, that is all for me."

"Understood."

After Gwen handed the menu back to the waiter, she looked at Locke, who sat opposite her and was once again stealthily pouring vodka into his glass. Pretending not to notice, she smiled and said in a low voice,

"How was training today, Agent Broughton?"

Locke looked up at Gwen. "I killed the thugs and the hostages together."

Gwen: "..."

So much for keeping absolutely nothing from Gwen.

Locke kept his word.

However...

Locke also said in a low voice, "Gwen, I told you that I can tell you these things, but you cannot tell anyone else, not even George. Otherwise, we will be silenced by the CIA."

Gwen snapped out of it. "Wait, let us talk about the hostages and thugs first."

Locke shrugged and shared the funny highlight of his afternoon training. "Deep behind enemy lines requires stealth and speed. If I do not kill them, why keep them around? To expose myself?"

Gwen opened her mouth.

She felt that today, she needed to temporarily reallocate her scheduled financial investment study time to psychology, which she had not touched in a long time.

The reason she had not touched it for so long was that Gwen felt Locke's mental state was actually quite good. But right now, Gwen felt that his mental state was actually not good at all; it was just very well hidden.

No, Locke really needed to go see a psychologist.

Those were hostages, not vampires.

It did not matter if vampires were killed, but humans could not be, or at least they should not be.

Gwen forced a smile, her mind racing as she planned to change the subject, lest bringing up a psychologist provoke a defensive reaction from Locke.

The next second.

Gwen looked at the talk show playing on a television not far away, her eyes lighting up as she looked back at Locke.

"Locke, do you remember that delivery pilot stranded on a deserted island we saw a few days ago?"

Locke gave an hum of affirmation. "What about him?"

"He came to New York."

"Oh?"

Gwen slightly pointed her pinky toward the large television, signaling Locke to look.

Locke looked over curiously. On the screen, the delivery man who had survived on a deserted island for twelve years talked with a somewhat halting cadence about the few things he had done since his return.

Delivering packages.

According to this delivery man, he was a courier, and it was his responsibility and obligation to deliver these packages to their owners. It was precisely this motivation that sustained his grueling survival on the deserted island.

Therefore, after he left the island and returned to the United States, Federal Express arranged a crew to live-stream the moments he delivered packages to owners who were twelve years late in receiving them.

Immediately after.

Several clips played on the television, showing the surprise and astonishment of people who had purchased items twelve years ago when they received these severely delayed packages.

Only...

"Packages delayed by twelve years? The items must be ruined, right?"

"The audience is not watching for that. They are watching a delivery man who was trapped alone on an island for twelve years and still never forgot his original purpose."

"Alright."

Locke shrugged and stopped talking.

Traffic and views were king these days.

Just look at the Peerless Assassin.

When the Peerless Assassin was stirring up trouble, the New York media could not wait to call him their darling. Then, once the Peerless Assassin retired with his mission accomplished and Locke took over the mantle, Locke became the new darling.

The New York media professionals really had a lot of darlings, and they were the type to take anyone regardless of taste.

"So, Evan."

The talk show host on television looked at the delivery man, Evan, who sat on the sofa and had not fully recovered from his wild, castaway state. The host smiled and said.

"I think the audience is very eager to know, is the reason you came to New York because New York also has packages you need to deliver?"

Evan nodded honestly, speaking with a stutter. "Yes, you know, my delivery flight was actually bound for Texas. But twelve years have passed, and many customers living in Texas have moved to other states. New York just happens to have three."

"Is there a video, Evan?"

"Sorry."

Evan shook his head and said, "Two of them have already passed away. There is one more, but he was not home, so we could only leave the package with the doorman."

"The doorman?"

"Yes, the Star Tower!"

"I see."

Seeing that the name of the Star Tower had come up, the talk show host acknowledged it, mentioning that security at the Star Tower was indeed like that, and then immediately steered the topic away.

For no other reason.

If they talked too much about the Star Tower, the lower-income residents would become unhappy. If they stopped paying attention, his ratings would plummet. These days, there was no need to alienate money, unless one was a billionaire.

Hearing the words on television, Gwen's eyes lit up. "The Star Tower, isn't that the building you live in?"

Locke looked at Gwen. "I am not even familiar with the neighbors downstairs."

After all, because of his apartment, the place was broken into by all sorts of intruders every few days. Frankly speaking, Locke felt that he had single-handedly lowered the prestige of the Star Tower.

How did people use to introduce the Star Tower?

The most prestigious building on Fifth Avenue, a luxury mansion that countless ordinary people yearn for but can never obtain.

Step onto the pinnacle of life, starting from here!

Buyers would look on with eyes full of stars, deeply impressed without even understanding why.

But what about now?

The moment the real estate agent opens their mouth, the buyer says, "Huh, isn't the security at the Star Tower pretty bad? I heard that apparently anyone can hack their way in."

The agent would probably drop dead on the spot from sheer frustration.

Two hours later.

Downstairs at the apartment building.

Gwen heard the familiar sound of a baby crying coming from inside her home. She smiled and looked at Locke as he stepped out of the car.

"Aren't you coming up to sit for a bit?"

The sound of the baby crying made Gwen feel a bit dazed.

Locke smiled and shared a brief embrace with Gwen. "Tomorrow."

Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. Chester was not home, and he had originally planned to spend Christmas Eve with Carrie.

But Carrie told him a few days ago that Betty had invited her to attend Christmas Eve at her house. So, barring any unforeseen accidents, even if he wanted to spend tomorrow alone, Helen and Gwen would not allow it.

Furthermore, he and Gwen had an appointment tomorrow morning to grab coffee with Kahn and Cindy, who were also starting their winter break tomorrow. While they were at it, they would see where they could go for some activities during the winter vacation.

They could not just stay at home during the holidays; that would be too boring.

Kahn and Cindy had nominated going skiing in Canada.

Gwen had not decided yet.

Locke did not care. As long as they did not go out to sea, anywhere was the same.

In the dead of winter, capsizing a boat at sea would be freezing cold.

Gwen smiled and parted her lips. "Alright, goodnight, Locke."

Locke smiled. "Goodnight."

Soon.

Under Locke's watchful eye, Gwen walked into the apartment building. Then, by the time Locke walked back to his car and opened the driver's door, Gwen was already standing inside the apartment kitchen, waving to him.

Locke looked up and waved back to Gwen standing by the kitchen, making a gesture that signified see you tomorrow. Then, he slipped into the car, sealing out the cold air outside the car door.

Ding-dong!

Locke took out his phone and looked at a text message from Mr. Nobody wishing him a Happy New Year in advance. He smiled, put his phone away, and started the car.

Ignition, time to go home!

Returning to the Star Tower.

Locke drove straight into the underground parking lot. After parking the vehicle, he got out and walked toward the adjacent elevator lobby.

Inside the elevator lobby, two electronic Christmas trees were also set up.

The volume was just right, softly playing Christmas songs over there.

Ring, ring, ring!

"Hello!"

"Hey, Locke!"

"Chester!"

"Merry Christmas Eve."

"...Christmas Eve is tomorrow."

"I know. I might not be able to make calls tomorrow. Your gift is in the study at home, the blue wrapped box. Carrie's is red. Remember to find Carrie tomorrow and help me give it to her."

"Alright!"

Locke gave a calm hum of affirmation and hung up the phone.

Having lived two lives, basically before coming to New York, only Chester would prepare a Christmas Eve gift for him, even though they were always some absurd things.

Ding!

The first floor.

Locke looked at the empty first floor where no one intended to enter and prepared to close the door.

Just then.

The sharp-eyed doorman over there spotted Locke. "Mr. Broughton."

Locke pressed the elevator's door-open button and looked at the doorman over there.

Soon.

The doorman ran to the elevator entrance carrying a package. "Mr. Broughton, this afternoon, someone came by and said this is a package for you from twelve years ago."

Locke raised an eyebrow!

***

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