What?
The Legendary Assassin?
Yesterday?
'Was it that business with the young man in the slums?' Locke wondered.
'No, that's impossible. Last night was a whim; I didn't leave a notification card. Besides, that house was blown to high heaven by a gas explosion—how could they possibly link it to ?'
'Good grief. Don't tell George, in his obsessive pursuit of the Assassin, has developed so kind of psychic ability or sixth sense? That's not scientific!'
Locke looked up, his mind racing as he perfectly mimicked a look of shock. "The Legendary Assassin? He was active yesterday?"
Helen, who had stood up to serve Locke a freshly grilled steak, humd in affirmation and sat back down. She shot a glance toward George. "The mont George climbed into bed last night, the phone rang. He heard the news and practically pulled his underwear on while running out the door."
Locke kept his face neutral.
George coughed violently. "Dear, there's really no need for such vivid detail."
'Does she really not view this 'wild boar' as an outsider anymore?' George grumbled to himself.
Locke had developed a certain immunity to Helen's occasional bluntness. Honestly, having a future mother-in-law with such a free-spirited personality was actually quite refreshing.
Helen smiled at George. "Yesterday was our anniversary. Did you know that?"
George blinked, confused. "What anniversary?"
Their first date anniversary was in December, and their wedding anniversary was in June. He couldn't think of anything else.
"The anniversary of our first ti reaching third base."
"...Mom!"
This ti it was Gwen who couldn't handle it. She grabbed Locke's arm. "Locke, let's go to the roof."
Locke wisely nodded. "Good idea."
He'd been wrong. Having a mother-in-law this uninhibited wasn't always a good thing—especially when she hit the gas on a conversation so fast it left you with whiplash.
'But still... do people really record the anniversary of third base?'
As Locke followed Gwen to the roof carrying his plate, he silently opened his "mory Palace." He tagged the dates of his mories with Gwen and built a new shelf to store them. If Gwen ever hit him with a surprise question about their history, he wasn't going to be caught off guard.
...
On the roof, there was a light breeze.
Gwen brushed her hair back and shook her head at Locke. "Sorry. Mom just doesn't see you as a stranger anymore."
Locke smiled warmly. "It's fine, I'm immune now. Besides, I rember exactly when we t, when we first held hands, and every base we've hit since."
Gwen rolled her eyes. "I'm not that bored."
Locke chuckled. 'Really? I don't believe you.'
Gwen then smiled softly. "But... I'm glad you rember."
'Knew it,' Locke thought. 'A woman's 'no' is rarely a 'no.' Just like a man's nature is to be visual—the difference is whether you control your desires or let them control you.'
The cool breeze was refreshing. Gwen leaned against Locke's shoulder as they sat on a raised ledge, which offered a partial view of the George Washington Bridge. Their breathing was steady and synchronized.
"Locke."
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for being my hero."
"..."
Locke turned his face, looking into her expressive eyes. He smiled gently. "Thank you for being my Goddess of Fortune."
They locked eyes, almost as if in a silent contest to see who would blink first. After a long mont, Locke conceded and blinked. Gwen burst into a giggle.
Suddenly—
*WHEW-WHEW-WHEW!*
A police siren wailed, growing louder until it stopped directly below the apartnt building. Helen's voice drifted up from inside: "Gwen! Your father has to head out!"
The pair snapped out of their mont and headed back down. By the ti they entered the apartnt, George was already gone, and the sirens were fading into the distance.
Gwen frowned. "Another case? Is it the Assassin again?"
Helen shook her head. "An officer was shot, apparently."
Gwen's expression softened slightly. "An officer shot? No wonder he rushed out. I thought it might be the Assassin."
George was a Captain now and rarely did field work, but he always responded personally to anything involving the Legendary Assassin. If an officer was down, though, his presence was expected.
'As long as it's not the Assassin,' Gwen thought. For all the killing the Assassin did, he never touched innocents or police officers.
Locke raised an eyebrow, noticing Gwen's relief. He had already ntally raised his "tolerance level" for George. If possible, he wanted to receive Gwen's hand from George at their wedding, not from a stepfather because he'd accidentally offed the old man.
However, Locke voiced a small curiosity. "Did the Assassin really strike yesterday?"
He had been out doing a "good deed" and then played with his Peerless Divine Weapon all night. He hadn't touched a single mission.
Gwen nodded. "Yeah. I heard Dad talking about it at breakfast. He said the Assassin shot a couple in Brooklyn last night."
Locke's brow furrowed. 'Wait... am I being imitated? Or have I beco soone's scapegoat? WTF?'
*Ding!*
*[Task Generated!]*
[Task: Soone is Imitating My Face!]
[Base Rewards: 1,000 Achievent Points, 1,000 Potential Points]
[Task Description: Can you stand for this? Even I can't. Go, catch him, and show him the true aning of 'Peerless'!]
[Bonus: The greater the public impact, the higher the bonus!]
[Note: A little secret—you might need Lulu's Whimsy Card for this. Hurry up and show this guy the price of ruining your reputation, or impersonators will start popping up like mushrooms after a rain.]
[Accept/Decline]
"Accept!" Locke thought instantly.
He'd heard of "copycat killers" following the M.O. of famous serial killers, but he never expected to have the honor himself. Except... he wasn't a serial killer. He only killed those who deserved it.
Locke looked at Gwen. "I had a brief encounter with this Assassin once. Even though he's a criminal, I felt no malice from him. Is it possible they got the wrong guy for the Brooklyn case?"
Gwen shook her head. "Dad said they found a notification card next to the bodies. The format and handwriting were identical to the previous ones."
The NYPD had never made the design of the cards public. Locke frowned. He wanted to ask if the card's material had been sent to forensics for comparison, but he held back.
Locke's cards were unique—they were generated by the system using his Potential Points specifically so that law enforcent could never trace the paper or ink. In a country where the FBI could trace a photo back to a specific darkroom or a docunt back to a specific printer's serial number, the system's "Blacklist" cards were his ultimate shield.
*Nobody can replicate them perfectly,* Locke thought. *Unless...*
He saw the door to George's study was slightly ajar. "Gwen, didn't you say George has all the Assassin's files in there?"
Gwen nodded. "Yeah. Why? You want to look?"
Locke shrugged. "I just don't think he'd kill innocents. He didn't kill , after all."
"I feel the sa way," Gwen agreed. "The Assassin is a vigilante executioner, not a serial killer. A serial killer hunts for pleasure, but the Assassin acts like a judge in the dark. If he stops sticking to his principles, he becos just another common murderer."
Locke pushed the study door open.
'Wow.'
He couldn't help but feel a twinge of awe. The walls were plastered with newspaper clippings about him, and the desk was lined with stacks of case files.
'Talk about a deep obsession,' Locke thought. 'Is George unable to sleep without catching ? What did I do in my past life to end up with a father-in-law like this?'
Locke walked to the desk and picked up a fresh folder dated yesterday.
He flipped it open.
***
Read 30 Chapters early on P-atreon/Redestro666
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