Locke thought to himself with a subtle smirk.
George and Mr. Nobody likely had no idea that their entire conversation back in the study had been overheard with absolute crystal clarity.
It couldn't be helped.
Locke didn't usually make a habit of eavesdropping on corners, but when an unfolding situation directly involved him, he felt it was entirely necessary as a principal party to stay informed.
That wasn't asking too much, was it?
He wasn't the least bit surprised by the revelation; after all, he had already mentally prepared for something like this. Besides, while he preferred to maintain a low profile in his daily life, his core operating principle for getting things done was to remain undeniably high-profile.
Playing a weak sheep just to ambush a tiger didn't suit his style.
Therefore...
A star as dazzlingly radiant as himself would never be forgotten by the crowd even if you left all the lights fully on—especially since he happened to be exceptionally handsome.
So, Locke remained completely unfazed. Instead, his mind drifted toward how Mr. Nobody planned to initiate recruitment, or rather, what specific operational format the man would utilize to approach him.
Declining any immediate enlistment was an absolute certainty, but being recognized for his innate talents still brought a pleasant sense of satisfaction.
What actually surprised him was a completely different piece of trivia.
George had actually been targeted for recruitment by the CIA back in the day, and he had flatly rejected them because of Helen?
All for the sake of love?
Locke kept his peripheral vision fixed on George, whose calm expression showed zero lingering regrets over his historic choice, while simultaneously shaking hands with Mr. Nobody to bid him farewell.
Mr. Nobody offered a smooth smile.
"I eagerly anticipate our next encounter."
Locke replied evenly,
"The next time will mark our third encounter. Will you finally possess a name then?"
Mr. Nobody let out a loud laugh. Sliding his sunglasses down his nose, a sharp arc formed at the edge of his lips.
"You will find out next time. Farewell, Mr. Broughton."
Locke watched the man put on his cool-guy act, offering a perfectly composed nod. "Farewell, Mr. Nobody."
Playing mysterious?
'Once I finish tying up today's loose ends, I will personally dig out your entire personnel file. I'd love to see what exact name is printed on your birth certificate.'
Locke thought to himself as Mr. Nobody shook hands with Gwen. Along with George, they politely escorted their enigmatic guest out the door.
Watching Mr. Nobody step into the elevator, Gwen turned back into the apartment and looked at George with an inquisitive expression.
"Dad, that CIA guy couldn't possibly be trying to headhunt you to become an operative again, right?"
George froze slightly.
Seeing his reaction, Gwen raised an eyebrow.
"Don't tell me I actually hit the nail on the head?"
'You hit precisely half of it.'
Your father's name was taken off their active list ages ago. Right now, they have their sights locked directly onto your boyfriend.
Who knows what choice that wild boar will make when the time comes.
George shot an incredibly meaningful, deep glance toward Locke, who was already actively helping Helen clear the breakfast dishes from the table. He then let out a hearty laugh, looking back at his daughter.
"If the CIA has reached the point where they desperately need to recruit me, it simply means Langley has completely run out of operatives to deploy."
Gwen nodded, her eyes drifting over to Locke, who was laughing and chatting naturally with Helen.
She was incredibly intelligent.
The brief, loaded look George had directed at Locke hadn't escaped her notice.
...
A short while later...
After Locke, Gwen, and George finished helping Helen tidy up the kitchen, they all headed out the door together.
George was heading straight to the NYPD precinct to begin his shift.
Gwen was bound for Oscorp Industries to continue her internship as an assistant to Dr. Connors.
As for Locke?
Locke drove Gwen straight to her workplace.
And then...
He was going to play the role of a saint who returned good for evil.
Don't believe it?
Locke was currently on his way to permanently eliminate Nick Rice—the Assistant District Attorney whose noisy existence was actively threatening to disrupt his upcoming Voodoo Omnibus auction.
Didn't executing this threat effectively translate to avenging Nina Bell's slaughtered family?
Look at the grand scheme of things.
Nina Bell had explicitly plotted to orchestrate Locke's total, agonizing social execution. Yet how did Locke intend to respond? He was going to single-handedly avenge her family.
What exactly did you call that?
Returning good for evil!
It was the textbook definition of returning absolute good for evil.
They wanted him dead, yet not only did he choose not to retaliate against their survivors, but he was also going to butcher the actual monster who had completely wiped out their household.
Even if Confucius himself were standing here, he would have to classify this action as returning good for evil!
In every conceivable sense of the phrase.
'I really am an incredibly kind-hearted individual.'
Most importantly...
Locke had watched George relentlessly chase after the Peerless Assassin's shadow without ever gaining a single inch of ground. He was genuinely worried that if this pattern continued, George's stress levels would skyrocket.
After all, ever since that live broadcast on New York Television, George had been hunting him for over half a year. Furthermore, Helen was currently pregnant.
Locke wanted to prevent George from getting so stressed that he might inadvertently do something foolish with his former flame—Patty Finn, the golden executive producer of New York Television—which would break Helen's heart.
Ever since that fateful broadcast, Patty Finn had capitalized on the momentum by launching a brand-new television program called *Exploring the Mysterious*.
The premier episode had shamelessly ridden the coattails of the incident, inviting several fraudulent self-proclaimed witches onto the show to babble endlessly about the history of witchcraft.
Coincidentally, George had just secured a major promotion, and Patty Finn's career was hitting unprecedented heights. If the two of them suddenly had a lapse in judgment under intense pressure and did something regrettable, what would happen to Helen?
Therefore, if not for George's sake, then purely for Helen's stability, it was high time for the Peerless Assassin to make a calculated public appearance.
Recalling the dialogue between George and Mr. Nobody inside the study, Locke could only shake his head in silent amusement.
Then again...
How on earth had George convinced himself that the Peerless Assassin possessed a deep background as a CIA operative?
Was it purely because his operational mystique happened to match the classic secrecy of a Langley agent?
But any seasoned professional reviewing a CIA operative's deep-cover profile could instantly deduce whether the background documentation was a fabricated legend.
His own skill set had been meticulously passed down by Chester; virtually any veteran elite assassin from the old guard would recognize the foundational methodology.
In his previous life, Locke had never even touched a firearm. His shooting precision back then couldn't just be called terrible; he was the type who couldn't hit a static target from a mere ten meters away.
But he had been blessed with an exceptional mentor.
Chester had completely, unreservedly transferred every single lethal skill he possessed into Locke's repertoire. Regardless of whatever hidden motives Chester might have harbored at the time, Locke remained profoundly grateful for the education.
Originally, Locke had intended to rely strictly on personal discipline to forge himself into a master marksman.
However, while he possessed an infinite reserve of motivation for executing system missions, he lacked the patience to spend every waking hour enduring agonizing muscle soreness from standard target practice. Consequently, he chose to utilize a system shortcut.
Yet he had only used the shortcut for his raw accuracy. Every bit of theoretical application Chester had instilled—such as identifying surveillance blind spots, configuring airtight safe houses, and decoding complex operational ciphers—was retained entirely through his own exceptionally brilliant intellect.
As for his signature habit of firing a lethal shot to the skull followed by an immediate insurance round, that had long since evolved into pure muscle memory. Furthermore, Locke firmly believed that a headshot was mathematically superior.
Without a head, a human cannot survive!
If you merely targeted the heart, what if you ran into a freak occurrence where the target's anatomy was mirrored, or the projectile was deflected by a concealed ballistic plate? If the initial strike failed to kill, it would provide the target with a tactical window to launch a counter-attack.
He refused to grant an enemy that specific opportunity.
However...
Since George was so thoroughly convinced that the Peerless Assassin was a product of Langley's training, Locke didn't mind feeding his father-in-law a tiny bit more misdirection.
When dealing with a father-in-law who continuously raised death flags, constantly roaring things like: "Peerless Assassin, I will bring you to justice!", "Peerless Assassin, you won't escape this time!", or "Peerless Assassin, you are under arrest!"... killing him was obviously out of the question.
The only logical alternative was to guide George as far down the wrong path as humanly possible.
How exhausting.
He had already pulled strings behind the scenes to get George promoted to Captain, so why was the man still so completely obsessed with chasing collars?
Locke let out a somewhat helpless sigh.
...
Then...
Locke turned his face slightly toward Gwen. Usually, whenever he let out a sigh, she would immediately check on him with genuine concern. Right now, however, Gwen was leaning her chin against her hand, staring silently out the passenger window. Locke blinked. "Gwen?"
Snapping out of her deep train of thought, Gwen turned her gaze back to Locke. "What's on your mind?"
"Nothing much."
Gwen shook her head slightly, then looked at him with an inquisitive expression.
"Locke, if Mr. Nobody actually extends a formal recruitment offer to you, would you consider joining them?"
Locke raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"I mean, if Mr. Nobody offers to bring you into the CIA, would you accept it?"
"Uh..." Locke looked at her with genuine curiosity. "What brought on that question all of a sudden?"
Gwen offered a soft, knowing smile. "Answer me first."
Spotting the traffic light shift to green, Locke pressed down on the accelerator. He turned to Gwen with a warm, instantaneous smile, speaking without a shred of hesitation.
"If he ever genuinely attempts to recruit me, I will absolutely tell you immediately."
Gwen blinked. "Tell me?"
Locke nodded firmly. "I will defer entirely to your opinion first."
"And what if I completely object to it?"
"Then I simply won't join."
"Is that a promise?"
"Of course!" Locke smiled warmly. "I have zero secrets from you, Gwen."
Gwen's lips curved into a beautiful, satisfied smile. "Thank you, Locke. Hearing you say that makes me incredibly happy."
Locke added, "Don't worry about it. Right now, my only real desire is for the new semester to start so I can walk to classes with you every day, rather than dropping you off at work and driving back to an empty apartment. It feels quite tedious."
His High School Academic Super Bowl Competition was currently awaiting the autumn semester to finalize its parameters and launch its inaugural season.
That project represented a guaranteed baseline revenue of at least two hundred thousand system points per year. It was a massive piece of meat that he absolutely had to secure.
Gwen let out a joyful laugh. Turning toward the window as the vehicle pulled up to the Oscorp Industries headquarters, she unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over to plant a soft kiss on Locke's cheek.
"See you this afternoon."
Locke watched her step out of the car with a warm smile. "See you this afternoon."
Swiftly...
Under Locke's protective gaze, Gwen swiped her security badge and stepped safely inside the Oscorp building, which possessed a reasonably competent security detail.
Yet with a single casual glance, Locke had already mapped out five distinct security vulnerabilities that would allow for an effortless infiltration of the facility.
Then again, no criminal would likely possess the sheer audacity required to launch a raid against an entity as massive as Oscorp.
Locke let out a short chuckle, started the engine, turned the vehicle around, and navigated his way back toward the Stark Tower apartments.
A few minutes later...
Locke steered the vehicle into a secluded side street, intending to cut through a specific alleyway completely devoid of municipal surveillance cameras to take a shortcut back to the residential complex.
As the vehicle's speed altered, his consciousness shifted smoothly, deploying his perfect clone into the driver's seat.
By the time the clone Locke drove the vehicle back out onto the main road, the original Locke—now sporting a pair of dark sunglasses—had already stepped out from a heavily shielded corner of the alley.
He slipped into a private garage unit he had rented using a completely fabricated identity.
Inside, a pristine, near-brand-new Audi R8 bearing forged license plates sat parked in absolute silence.
This was a private acquisition he had sourced directly from the black market.
After all, he couldn't very well keep hijacking other people's R8s every single time a field mission triggered; what if the vehicle's actual owner suddenly faced an urgent emergency?
Locke's greatest personal virtue was his profound capacity for empathy and perspective-shifting.
Most importantly...
Virtually every registered Audi R8 across the five boroughs was currently under intense, active surveillance by the NYPD task force. Over the past year, every single car thief who had attempted to boost an R8 in New York had met a catastrophic, total operational failure.
Without a single exception!
***
Bonus for 300, next goal 500 stones for 3 bonuses