The next day.
Locke felt refreshed upon waking.
After all, one of the major headaches stemming from the destruction of the New York Fraternity had finally been resolved.
As for the remaining issue—S.H.I.E.L.D.?
It was the same principle.
If they dared to interfere with Locke's life, Locke would ensure they had no life left to lead.
Just like the previous few days.
Locke drove his R8 past Gwen's house, and once Gwen stepped out, they drove one after the other toward Midtown High.
"Yo."
At the school parking lot, Kim—who hadn't been seen for days because she was in Las Vegas for some competition—blinked when she saw Locke. "I heard you changed cars again. Did you buy it yourself?"
When Locke was kidnapped, Kim was already in Las Vegas, but she had sent a text expressing her concern.
Locke smiled. "Long time no see, Kim. The insurance company paid for it."
Kim was stunned. "They haven't canceled your policy yet? The insurance company?"
Locke: "..."
Very good.
Just for that comment, you are definitely going on that fated trip to Paris. If you dare not to go, I'll pack you up and toss you into the plane myself.
Go enjoy a proper taste of worldly suffering in Paris.
Locke thought this to himself, but on the surface, he smiled and said: "Unfortunately, no. In fact, they said that if my car is 'borrowed' by that hitman again, I should notify them immediately. They promised to settle the claim instantly, even giving me a three-hour fast-track payout channel."
Kim's mouth hung open as she looked at her best friend, Gwen. "Is he serious?"
Gwen shook her head.
Of course it was true.
In that New York version of *The Fast and the Furious*, the biggest winners—thanks to seizing the trending topic—were the insurance company and Audi, who reacted faster than Maserati or Raptor.
Locke had specifically checked; over the last few days, Audi sales in New York City had spiked by 50%.
Clearly.
In the eyes of most New Yorkers, as long as the trouble didn't land on their own heads, they still worshiped individualism. A cool-as-ice hitman in sunglasses could be a superhero in their hearts.
It was quite absurd.
...
In the hallway.
After Gwen opened her locker, she looked at the classmate next to her and asked curiously, "Liz, what's wrong? You don't look very happy."
Liz was also a ninth-grade student.
Locke had an impression of her, but they weren't close. After all, Locke had only just arrived at Midtown High.
Thanks to Gwen, Locke might not know all the students, but every student seemed to know him.
The reason?
Gwen was the school beauty, and in their eyes, Locke was the guy who had snatched her away.
But God as my witness.
Locke wasn't actually dating Gwen—at most, they were in a state of "more than friends, less than lovers."
Liz, who could score an 80 on looks and be called pretty, rolled her eyes. "A Canadian exchange student moved into my house. Didn't you know?"
Gwen nodded. "I know. I saw her yesterday."
Liz sighed. "Just wait. In a bit, you'll understand why I want to die."
With that.
Liz listlessly closed her locker and turned to leave.
Locke took out the books needed for the morning classes and looked at Gwen. "Have you seen the exchange student yet?"
When he heard Liz mention a transfer student just now, he thought Callum was working at light speed.
Picking up his daughter and son overseas last night and arranging their enrollment today.
Gwen nodded. "I haven't seen her, but didn't I go to the guidance counselor's office a few days ago? The counselor mentioned it. Since I'm a student assistant, I know about these things."
Locke nodded.
Gwen's role as a student assistant was a major bonus for her record.
Dammit.
She can clearly rely on her grades to get into college with a scholarship, yet she still works this hard.
Locke thought for a moment and looked at Gwen. "Do you think I should join an interest group or something?"
Gwen nodded. "Sure, colleges value that a lot. What do you like?"
"Horseback riding."
"..."
Seeing Gwen blink, Locke mimicked the motion of putting on a cowboy hat. "I'm a master at riding horses. First place in the Texas Youth Cowboy Competition."
And first place in the Texas Hot Dog Eating King contest.
It couldn't be helped.
Texas was vast with few people, and daily tasks were miserably scarce. For an assassination mission, one might have to ride a horse all night. Consequently, Locke could only exert his efforts in various bizarre competitions that the system counted as missions to earn points.
Locke felt he had worked very hard.
If a truly lazy "salted fish" player had come instead, by the time they reached New York, let alone a Level 3 Fortitude talent, they probably wouldn't even have a single skill leveled to Intermediate.
Gwen was silent for a moment. "Midtown High doesn't have cowboys. However, we do have a show choir and dance club. Want to join?"
Singing?
Dancing?
Locke waved his hand. "Forget it then."
If he had to go on stage to sing and dance, he'd rather choose death.
Gwen thought about it but couldn't come up with a hobby that matched Locke. As they walked toward the classroom, she asked curiously, "What clubs did you participate in back in Texas?"
"The Cowboy Club. I'm a master at riding!"
"...Besides cowboys."
"Uh..."
Locke thought seriously and shook his head. "Gwen, you have to understand, in Texas, if you're a master at riding, you're a true cowboy. You don't need any other validation."
Gwen: "..."
He had actually seriously considered expanding his horizons—like basketball, or that sport with a quarterback.
But...
He was the number one campus cowboy in Texas.
Even quarterbacks weren't as popular as he was in Texas.
If Locke were old enough, he could walk into any bar in Texas and the owner would waive the bill for him, no matter how expensive the drink.
Even Lone Star Beer had considered asking him for an endorsement.
Unfortunately, he wasn't old enough, and Lone Star Beer was afraid of being sued, so the matter was dropped.
"But..."
After Locke sat down in his seat, he looked at Gwen. "Lone Star Beer said that once I turn twenty-one, if I'm still the number one cowboy, they'll sign a five-year endorsement contract with me."
An image flashed in Gwen's mind: Locke on a majestic horse, wearing studded pants, with some scruffy stubble and a cowboy hat, holding up a glass of Lone Star Beer.
The picture was too "beautiful."
Gwen quickly shook her head and looked seriously at Locke. "Better pick another hobby. This is New York, not Texas. Besides, according to current data, cowboys are already a dying breed."
That was the truth.
The elite cowboys of Texas had all gone to the military to become snipers.
Just then, the chatter in the classroom died down at a visible speed. In an instant, it became pin-drop silent.
Very student-like.
There was only one reason for this.
The teacher had arrived.
***
Throw power stones guys.
I'll drop 2 chapters at 300 stones before Sunday reset.
Thanks for reading 🙏
***
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