Marvel: The Super Player

No supernatural awakening could ever happen completely out of thin air.

At least, that was how it worked within a Western-style setting. It was virtually impossible for a mortal with deep, pure, ordinary roots to leap across ranks and slaughter a god.

A mortal was simply a mortal.

Anyone capable of slaying a divinity was, at the very least, a demigod.

Or...

Someone possessing an incredibly monumental cheat.

Within any typical Western thematic structure, there was no fertile ground for a mindset of defying heaven and seizing control of one's own destiny. The social and cosmic strata here were rigidly solidified.

A mortal remained a mortal. If one managed to transition from an ordinary person to a supernatural entity, it was never the result of sheer hard work; rather, it meant they were fated to be extraordinary from the very beginning.

Take Doctor Strange, for example.

On the surface, Doctor Strange appeared to be a mere mortal, but in reality, he was the next-generation successor to the Sorcerer Supreme, explicitly designated by the Vishanti.

To put it bluntly, he did not become Doctor Strange because he worked sufficiently hard; it was because he was destined to be Doctor Strange, and therefore, he was.

In layman's terms.

In this realm, that single point-one percent of innate talent carried far greater weight than the remaining ninety-nine point-nine percent of raw effort.

And what about this Cordelia before them?

If Carrie's potential for witch talent was rated a five, then Cordelia's potential talent stood at an eight, positioned a mere two tiers away from a maximum value of ten.

As for Locke?

He belonged to the category of individuals possessing a truly astronomical cheat.

His energy was completely infinite and boundless.

Coupled with...

An absolute lack of level constraints!

Over on the other side, Cordelia seemed to realize that she had momentarily lost her composure. Snapping out of it, she pursed her lips slightly and murmured.

"Peace... we can achieve it."

Locke raised an eyebrow.

My goodness.

Is this a female version of Professor X?

Peace?

Not too far away, the witch hunters had converted the act of hunting and burning witches into a live reality television show. As a witch herself, she was clearly angry, yet her response was to utter, "We want peace?"

Are you fucking kidding me?

Could she not see that Carrie was on the verge of manifesting her original form as the Sovereign of Darkness?

Weighing these thoughts in his mind, Locke looked over at Carrie and said, "Let's go."

Carrie snapped out of her daze. The churning, tumultuous energy within her—which had begun to violently boil at the mere thought of her friend potentially being burned to death by those witch hunters below—instantly returned to a state of absolute serenity, mimicking calm water.

However, that was merely an illusion.

Leaving Lake Lery.

Returning to the vehicle.

Ignition.

"What do we do now?"

"Report it to the police."

"..."

Carrie was slightly taken aback, looking at Locke as he spoke. "But... we haven't found any concrete evidence that allows us to file a formal report yet."

Locke chuckled. "Carrie, I asked you to adapt to an ordinary life, but I never told you to grow accustomed to being ordinary. Remember, we are supernatural entities!"

Carrie: "..."

Evidence?

He already knew that the body was located inside Lake Lery. What did it matter if they lacked evidence?

They could simply manufacture a piece of evidence.

Was that difficult?

The New Orleans Police Department.

Locke led Carrie directly into the station, tracking down the friend George had mentioned before they left—a man currently serving as a detective captain in the New Orleans Major Crimes Unit.

"Cop Thornton!"

"Locke Broughton!"

Locke shook hands with the man before him, who sported a handlebar mustache and wore a well-worn suit that had clearly seen better days. He introduced the girl beside him.

"This is Carrie, Carrie Chester."

Cop Thornton gave Carrie a polite nod before inviting the two of them to take a seat. He enthusiastically poured them some coffee and spoke with a warm smile.

"George called me yesterday and brought you up. He mentioned you'd be arriving in New Orleans today."

Accepting the coffee, Locke smiled gently. "We just made it into town around midday."

Adjusting his somewhat faded small necktie, Cop Thornton sat down and looked toward Locke. "So, how is it going? I heard you two came down here to look for someone. Have you found them?"

Locke and Carrie exchanged a brief look.

Noticing their silent communication, Cop Thornton asked, "Is there an issue?"

Locke looked directly at Cop. "I suspect she is already dead."

Cop hastily pulled his coffee cup away from his lips.

My word.

"You suspect... she's dead?"

"Yes."

Locke offered Carrie a slight nod.

Carrie reached into her pocket and retrieved a signal tracker.

Cop's eyes lit up as he accepted the device, turning it over a few times to inspect it. "Military grade, huh? This is significantly more advanced than the equipment we use at the precinct."

Locke smiled subtly.

He then proceeded to calmly lay out a narrative for Cop.

Carrie's friend, Anila Katz, was supposed to travel to New Orleans for a vacation with her mother. Coincidentally, Carrie and Anila had been spending time together right before the trip, and Anila happened to bring the tracker along with her to New Orleans.

However...

Mrs. Katz had already returned to New York, but Anila Katz was nowhere to be found.

Carrie naturally grew deeply concerned. Mrs. Katz claimed that Anila had stayed behind at a relative's house in New Orleans, but Carrie found that explanation entirely unsatisfactory because she was completely unable to establish contact with Anila.

Furthermore, due to the limited range constraints of the signal tracker, Carrie asked Locke to accompany her down here.

And then...

Locke looked at Cop. "The moment Carrie and I stepped off the plane, we immediately headed toward the location indicated by the signal."

Listening intently, Cop looked at Locke and spread his hands, silently prompting him for what came next.

Locke shook his head. "The tracking signal points directly inside Lake Lery. However, Carrie and I are completely barred from entering the area. After discussing it, we decided to come find you."

Cop was slightly startled.

"Where did you say?"

"Lake Lery."

"..."

Frowning, Cop asked, "Are you referring to Lake Lery over on the eastern side of the city?"

Locke gave an hum of affirmation. "The people over there stated that Lake Lery is entirely private property."

Private property in this country was no laughing matter.

If someone purchased a plot of land, erected a private property sign, and declared it off-limits to uninvited guests, you could be shot dead on the spot if you trespassed, and your death would be legally considered your own fault.

Even the FBI could not simply wander into an open, empty field without a valid search warrant if it was privately owned.

"Yes."

Cop wiped his face with his hand. "That land belongs to the Dolan Church."

Dolan?

Locke raised an eyebrow, looking at Cop. "The Dolan Church?"

Cop nodded his head. "The Dolan Church is..."

Locke smiled smoothly. "I know of them. Their headquarters is in New York, correct?"

He was well-acquainted with the name.

In fact, he had been planning to pay them a personal visit at some point. After all, that very Dolan Church had previously described Carrie as the most terrifying manifestation of darkness.

Locke was actually looking forward to executing a classic midnight visit to the covenant, showing them exactly what the purest form of darkness truly entailed.

He just had not anticipated crossing paths with the Dolan Church's name here in New Orleans.

On second thought, it made sense.

New Orleans was widely renowned as the central hub for witches, vampires, and voodoo. It was hardly surprising for the Dolan Church to have a presence here. If that was the case, then that group of witch hunters gathered at Lake Lery was very likely a witch hunter group operating under the banner of the Dolan Church.

Looking down at the tracker in his hand, Cop spread his arms helplessly.

"At the end of every December, the Dolan Church strictly prohibits any outsiders from approaching Lake Lery. Are you absolutely certain you haven't made a mistake?"

Locke shook his head. "None whatsoever."

Since the tracking card indicated that Anila Katz was at Lake Lery, then she was undeniably inside that lake.

Cop's brow furrowed tightly. "This is going to be incredibly troublesome, but I will see what I can do."

With that.

Cop temporarily returned the tracker to Locke, noted down Anila Katz's name, stood up, and walked out of the room.

Compared to dealing with massive financial corporations, various religious churches were always the biggest headaches for police departments. Corporations merely possessed immense wealth, whereas churches were comprised of a bunch of fanatical lunatics.

An endless variety of churches blossomed across the land, resembling clusters of vibrant, deceptive flowers.

Watching Cop depart, Carrie turned her gaze to Locke. "The Dolan Church... what exactly are they?"

Within the extensive knowledge regarding witches that Agatha had imparted to her, there had been no mention of this Dolan Church.

Locke shrugged. "A reckless cult that advocates slaughtering every single witch and burning them to ashes, firmly believing that the world will achieve absolute peace once all witches are eradicated."

"What?"

"Yeah. A reckless church that managed to eliminate a single dark witch and subsequently fancied themselves completely invincible under heaven."

Carrie was slightly taken aback. "They are based in New York?"

And they actually want to burn me?

Carrie had a few choice words she wanted to express, but owing to her naturally reserved personality, she held them back.

Locke, however, let out a light chuckle. "I was originally contemplating when to pay them a formal visit, but I didn't expect to run into them here. Once we head back, I'll find an opportunity to drop by."

Solely based on that old fool's assertion that Carrie represented the absolute greatest darkness, a visitation trip was practically written in stone.

To possess meager strength yet show no fear toward the powerful only invites destruction!

Furthermore, this situation was directly intertwined with his current mission.

Just then.

Ring, ring, ring!

"It's Gwen."

Locke pulled out his phone, looked at the caller ID, and offered Carrie a warm smile. Standing up, he walked over to the conference room window and accepted the call.

"Good afternoon, Gwen."

"Good afternoon."

Gwen stepped out from George's study, casting a brief glance back at George, who was currently occupied on the phone. "Did you and Carrie head over to the New Orleans Police Department?"

"Yes."

"Did something happen?"

"Carrie's friend has gone missing."

Locke spoke the absolute truth.

Without a doubt, Cop must have placed a call to George immediately after stepping out of the room. After all, Locke had secured a meeting with Cop entirely by utilizing George's personal favor.

Now that they had met, it was only natural for Cop to inform George that the guest had arrived safely and that he was currently in the process of fulfilling that favor.

It was standard procedure.

If he remained entirely silent, and Cop eventually required George's assistance down the line, bringing up this incident only for George to claim total ignorance and refuse to acknowledge it would be highly problematic.

Granted, the chances of that happening were minuscule.

However...

This was considered part of the unspoken rules governing the utilization of personal favors.

Gwen walked back into her own bedroom, seated herself in her computer chair, and powered on her laptop. Looking at the open official website of Delta Air Lines while listening to Locke report his whereabouts, she smiled warmly.

"Then you and Carrie make sure to stay safe. Remember to call me tonight after you get back to your hotel."

Locke gave an hum of affirmation. "I will."

He hung up the phone.

Right at that moment, Cop walked back into the room.

Locke slipped his phone away and looked toward him.

Cop made a successful gesture. "The Dolan Church stated that they haven't detected any unusual activity, and they have also agreed to transmit the surveillance footage of Lake Lery covering the past two weeks."

Locke smiled.

***

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