Gwen remained somewhat worried.
Furthermore, everything that needed to be wrapped up this semester was already finished. According to her original plan, Gwen had actually wanted to graduate early next June. Relying on her sweep at the Academic Decathlon, several prestigious universities that had previously intended to play hard to get finally dropped their posturing and approached Helen to express their respective sincerity.
However, due to the launch of the Student Council Competition Platform, Gwen temporarily shelved that idea, planning to stay by Locke's side to help consolidate the platform first. At worst, after entering college, she could just transfer a few more times. To an absolute academic prodigy, university was not some unattainable goddess.
Therefore...
Gwen adopted a serious and earnest expression.
"Why don't we just move into the New York Police Department until this matter is resolved? We can come out after Dad tracks down whoever wiretapped you this time."
'You might as well just have us move into a prison,' Locke thought to himself. He began to wonder if his decision to call the police at the time had been a bit too hasty. When he reported the crime, he hadn't anticipated Gwen's reaction.
This wasn't ideal.
Locke mentally critiqued himself, then turned to Gwen and said,
"It's not that exaggerated. Wiretapping is an underhanded tactic that can't be brought into the open. Besides, I've already called the police. Whoever it is must be terrified of exposure right now; how could they possibly show their faces again at a time like this?"
"...Is that so?"
"I think so." Locke comforted Gwen, who was worrying over him, and smiled.
"Rest assured, a shark in the ocean couldn't eat me, and a few vampires couldn't finish me off. There's nothing to worry about from a pest that only dares to hide in the dark and listen."
When the *Poseidon* met its disaster, that shark—which had completely disregarded martial virtue to launch a sneak attack—had its fin sliced off by Locke and was turned into sashimi. As for the few vampires encountered at Lake Carrico, they had undoubtedly died the moment they exposed themselves to his gun.
Following Locke's words, Gwen recalled those two events, and the anxiety on her face eased slightly. She nodded, though a trace of lingering unease remained as she looked at him.
"Alright then. Let's be careful over the next few days and try not to go out too much."
Locke hummed in agreement. Though he knew exactly what he was facing, Gwen didn't, which made his heart feel warm and comfortable.
With a girl like this, unless his brain had been kicked by a donkey, Locke truly couldn't fathom how he could ever end up as anyone else's husband. Wasn't a Gwen who was this understanding, gentle, virtuous, and exceptionally beautiful perfect enough? Locke thought to himself.
...
They arrived at school.
In the hallway by the lockers.
"Huh?" After opening her locker, Gwen blinked at a package that dropped out from inside.
"What's this?"
Locke, who was preparing to open his own locker nearby, looked over at her puzzled voice.
Gwen picked up the package from the floor and flipped it over to check.
"It's addressed to me, but how did it get delivered to the school?"
Not far away, Matt—who had just arrived with his cousin Andrew—was also staring at a package in his hand. Overhearing Gwen's comment, he walked over and shook his package. "I have one here too."
Locke raised his gaze, then opened his own locker. With a soft *thud*, an identical package dropped down, which Locke caught firmly in his hand.
*Midtown High, Received by Locke Broughton.*
Good grief. Since when did the federal postal service develop the capability to deliver packages so precisely into student lockers? Was this a joke?
Locke raised an eyebrow. With a sharp rip, he tore open the package and pulled out a ticket from inside.
"What is this?" Locke looked at the ticket he had extracted, his expression shifting slightly.
"Broadway Moscow Swan Musical Theater?"
Seeing that Locke had opened his, Gwen unsealed hers as well and looked up at him. "Mine is the same."
Matt also held up the ticket he had just pulled out. "Identical."
Just then, Mrs. Coard walked over from a short distance away. Seeing Locke and the other two gathered together with the tickets in their hands, she smiled.
"It seems you've all received them."
Gwen looked at the approaching Mrs. Coard and asked curiously, "Mrs. Coard, this is..."
"I just received them yesterday. I originally intended to give them to you personally, but since I have a few things to attend to today, I simply slipped them into your lockers. This is an additional reward from the Board of Trustees."
"...Just this?"
"Yes."
To the Board of Trustees, completing a grand slam on the academic decathlon platform warranted a reward. Similarly, because Locke had successfully taken office and promptly pulled back the reins before the student body plunged irretrievably toward extreme democracy—smoothly steering them back into the embrace of proper structure—he also required a reward.
Mrs. Coard had mentioned to them last week that the trustees were still debating what to give. After all, they couldn't just keep throwing money at them; this was an elite high school, and while throwing cash once was fine, doing it constantly would make them look entirely unrefined.
"Cindy and Kahn also have them," Mrs. Coard added, looking at Gwen with a warm smile.
"Studying is certainly important, but our lives shouldn't revolve entirely around schoolwork; there should also be art. This musical is highly regarded, and it happens to be this weekend. The five of you can head over and watch it. I went last week, and it is well worth appreciating."
Gwen offered a polite smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Coard."
Mrs. Coard waved her hand.
"These were sent by a Moscow merchant who has a partnership with one of the trustees, so it's not my doing. Alright, I'll be going now." With that, Mrs. Coard left, cradling her teaching materials in her arms.
A Moscow merchant.
The Moscow Opera House.
Locke lowered his head, staring at the ticket in his hand. As a realization clicked, he couldn't help but let out a silent chuckle.
Did they really have to be this transparent? They weren't even attempting to disguise their motives. This was far too simple and heavy-handed.
Wasn't this plainly stating: Hey, this is a trap, hurry up and come over, we're waiting for you?
Unless he was out of his mind.
Just as Locke couldn't fathom why he would ever become a scumbag, looking at this musical ticket, he also couldn't understand why—knowing full well it was a trap—he would willingly walk right into their net. To ask the KGB why they were doing this? There was no need.
The KGB's intent was glaringly obvious; they were here because of Lorraine Broughton. However, Locke hadn't even looked at that set of files yet, nor did he have any interest in doing so.
The most critical point was that he didn't like wasting words; he preferred to let his actions speak for him.
Furthermore... Locke suspected that the trap originally planned for this ticket had probably already vanished.
Why? Because Locke had called the police!
And the ones responding weren't just a single unit like the NYPD; the FBI and S.H.I.E.L.D. had responded as well. Under such circumstances, Locke couldn't think of a single reason why the KGB would continue to linger in New York City. This was also why Locke hadn't gone hunting for them last night.
Of course, the primary reason was the lack of a system notification. Quests were generally issued based on his interests, and last night, the system hadn't detected any curiosity from Locke, so no quest was generated.
This ticket was likely a so-called backup plan. Therefore, if he actually went to watch it, the probability of encountering a trap was extremely low.
However, Locke felt Gwen nudge him twice with her elbow. Meeting Gwen's large, expressive eyes, he understood her silent message perfectly, smiled, and shook his head.
Only then did Gwen withdraw her gaze in satisfaction.
The current situation was already dangerous enough, so why go watch a musical? What if he got kidnapped at the theater? They absolutely couldn't go.
Gwen had abandoned the idea almost the exact moment she saw the musical ticket. If they wanted to watch a musical, she and Locke could buy tickets and go on their own at any other time. During unusual periods, safety came first.
...
They arrived in the classroom.
Sure enough, the moment Cindy saw Gwen walk in, she immediately waved the musical ticket she had also received, speaking to Gwen with an excited expression,
"Gwen, did you get yours?"
Betty, who was sitting in front of Carrie, rested her chin in her hands, her eyes flashing with desire.
"A Moscow musical... I want to go so badly too. But I checked online, and the tickets were basically sold out a month in advance... Huh?"
Betty lowered her head, staring at a ticket that had been slid directly in front of her. She blinked, then looked up blankly at Locke, who had tossed the ticket over.
Locke sat down and looked at Betty.
"You're my media director, so your artistic sensibilities are much higher than mine. Go ahead and take it; I don't really want to go anyway."
Betty froze for a moment, blinking.
"This... wouldn't be right, would it?"
Locke smiled. "Just don't let it delay the promotional video."
The competition platform was his absolute top priority. As for a musical—unless he allocated a point to activate an [Art Appreciation] skill—Locke strongly suspected he would end up falling fast asleep within five minutes of the opening curtain.
And spending potential points on that skill just for a single musical felt like a massive deficit to him.
Betty didn't stand on ceremony and smiled brightly. "That's impossible. Last night, Wanda and I were at Carrie's house, and we already finalized the conceptual framework for the promotional video."
At Carrie's house? Locke looked over at Carrie, his gaze silently asking if they had seen Agatha.
Carrie smiled, her eyes returning a silent reassurance that they hadn't.
Locke smiled back.
Watching Locke give his ticket away, Gwen smiled and passed her own ticket to Carrie. "Carrie, Locke and I have plans this weekend, so this is yours. Why don't you and Betty go together? After all, you two are responsible for the promotional video."
Cindy and Kahn exchanged a look.
Then, Cindy walked over to Wanda's desk and handed her ticket over.
"Here, Wanda. Why don't the three media goddesses go together?"
Wanda, who had been observing the scene calmly from the side without any shift in expression, looked up at Cindy and blinked.
Meanwhile, Kahn walked over to Pietro's desk.
Pietro wore a look of utter disdain.
"I have nothing better to do, why would I go watch a musical?" Going to the mall to check out girls on the weekend was far better than staring at a stage, wasn't it?
Kahn leaned in and whispered something briefly.
Pietro's eyes instantly lit up, and he shot a look at Kahn.
"Seriously?"
Kahn nodded with a serious expression.
Pietro immediately snatched the ticket, a massive smile spreading across his face. "Thanks a lot, man!"
Kahn hadn't actually said much. He had merely mentioned that this ticket was a VIP pass—the kind that allowed entry into the backstage area.