Setting aside how weird Gwen's request sounded, or how completely unfazed and unshocked she seemed upon encountering a creature from myth and legend, George absolutely refused to indulge her. Extraction and dissection for research were jobs for full-time scientists; their hunting excursion was officially over.
"Dad, I am a scientist."
"A future one."
George gave an annoyed huff as he took the glass vial from her hand, correcting her grammar.
"Talk to me again after you finish your PhD. If you still want a vampire to dissect by then, I'll catch one for you myself."
Right now, it was a hard no. If something went wrong during the handling process and an accident happened, he didn't want his beautiful, precious little cabbage to undergo a genetic mutation and turn into a vampire cabbage with wings.
Locke watched George in silence, a faint smirk playing on his lips. George's phrasing seemed to carry a bit of a hidden meaning.
Seeing that her dad wasn't going to budge, Gwen sighed in disappointment.
"Dad, you've changed."
"I... If you want that fang so badly, go ask Locke to pull it out for you."
"No way." Before Locke could even react to being dragged into the crossfire, Gwen shook her head like a spinning top.
"What if it breaks free? Locke could get hurt."
George's eyelid twitched violently.
"Oh, so I can't get hurt?"
What a wonderful daughter. She was supposed to be his warm, protective little jacket, but this was no longer a matter of a few loose threads—the jacket was clearly stuffed with black-hearted cotton.
Gwen giggled, wrapping an arm around Locke's shoulder as she looked back at George.
"Dad, Locke would be right behind you providing sniper cover. Just like how he saved your life earlier, his marksmanship is perfect. He wouldn't miss."
George's face twisted in pure exasperation.
Locke's eyes, however, lit up. Just a moment ago, he had been lamenting a missed opportunity, thinking a setup like that would never present itself again, but now a second chance was practically dropping into his lap.
Don't worry. This time, I promise I'll throw the shot.
Locke offered George a warm, reassuring smile and nodded.
"Yes, Mr. Stacy. I will make sure you are well protected."
I'll ensure you don't feel a single ounce of pain. One shot... right through the central nervous system, sending you off to report to Mephisto in absolute bliss. You'll have to suffer in hell for a few years, but once my power reaches that level, I'll personally ensure you get to spend eternity playing with succubi, completely forgetting about the mortal realm.
Unfortunately, this beautiful plan never had the chance to manifest because the cavalry arrived.
The group looked up toward the narrow mountain path they had used earlier. A roaring din echoed through the trees as a fleet of dirt bikes began to emerge one after another.
Locke looked at the arriving Mingo County deputies and let out a soft, thoroughly disappointed sigh.
George snapped his head around, narrowing his eyes at Locke. He had heard that sigh perfectly clear.
"Did you just sigh?"
What was there to sigh about? Sighing because I didn't go pull the tooth, denying you another chance to take a shot?
Locke met George's gaze with perfectly clear, innocent eyes, looking entirely misunderstood.
"No, Mr. Stacy. I was just exhaling in relief, celebrating the fact that we survived a brush with death."
'I don't believe a word out of your mouth.' George stared back with intense suspicion. The internal threat level he assigned to Locke surged past the red line.
...
Over an hour later, the neighboring county's Sheriff was escorted out and rushed to the Mingo County hospital. Locke and the rest of the party returned to the hunting lodge completely empty-handed. Leica Lake was officially locked down.
As for their game, they hadn't brought a single carcass back. It wasn't that they couldn't, but rather that the whole concept felt deeply unsettling now.
If they ate the meat, who was to say they wouldn't catch some kind of mutated bat virus? No one wanted to land on a laboratory dissection table just because they fancied a wild boar dinner.
If a future scientist like Gwen became that fanatical upon seeing a vampire, real, active scientists would probably be ten times worse.
In reality, the lockdown extended far beyond Leica Lake. With an incident of this magnitude occurring—involving the appearance of a diamond-sheened vampire and significant law enforcement casualties—the entire hunting ground was rapidly cordoned off.
West Virginia State Police arrived at Mingo County in record time, taking control of the scene and establishing a strict perimeter around the entire mountain range.
By the time midday approached, the final hunting group returned to the lodge via dirt bikes, hauling their prize—a massive wild boar.
Locke and the others sat in the lounge area of the main lobby, staring through the large floor-to-ceiling windows at the display outside, which resembled a wild game convention, and exchanged silent, amused glances.
This time they hadn't been skunked; in fact, their initial haul would have topped the leaderboard among all the hunters who entered the mountains. Yet, they were forced to return empty-handed.
"Wait a minute," Erin said, suddenly snapping out of her thoughts.
"The first boar Locke shot was perfectly fine, right? That one should have been brought back."
While they had abandoned the boars near Leica Lake due to the blood mixing with the vampires' fluids, Locke's first kill—the one rooting in the dirt—was deep in the forest, nowhere near the lake.
"Don't worry about that one," the lodge owner, Rebecca, said with a smile as she approached carrying a tray. Hearing Erin's question, she looked at Locke and nodded approvingly.
"Once your coordinates were transmitted, the logistics team hauled that boar back. Excellent shooting, by the way."
Locke thanked her politely, accepting the compliment.
Gwen leaned against Locke's shoulder, adding proudly,
"Locke saved all of us today. Especially Dad."
George, who was currently looking down and trying to convince himself that a retrieved first kill meant he technically hadn't gone empty-handed, fell completely silent. He had lost count of how many times Gwen had repeated that line—it had to be at least the tenth time.
He felt a sudden, powerful urge. He would rather turn back time and let that damn vampire sink its fangs into his neck than accept Locke's rescue.
This was a total disaster. A permanent stain on his record. George could already foresee that no matter what he said to Locke in the future, this incident would be brought up as an immediate counter-argument.
'Damn it! I grew careless! I knew I should have taken the kid sea fishing instead.'
Helen, meanwhile, was beaming as she looked across the table at Locke, finding him more and more fitting for her daughter. The more she looked, the more she felt Locke was the absolute perfect choice for a Stacy family son-in-law.
He could protect her daughter, and he could even bail out his father-in-law in a crisis. A son-in-law like this was an absolute treasure, impossible to find even if you searched with a lantern.
Sensing his future mother-in-law's increasingly approving gaze, Locke remained entirely unfazed, acting as though he hadn't noticed a thing. He maintained the flawless posture of a seasoned actor.
Oh well, this development wasn't bad either. He who eats another's food must soft-pedal his criticisms. If the truth ever came out down the line and George discovered that the Peerless Assassin was actually Locke, things might be a lot smoother to handle.
"You tried to kill me."
"I saved your life."
"You're a total outlaw."
"My name isn't Robin Hood, and besides, I saved your life."
"..."
When that day came, George couldn't exactly shout "I'm giving my life back to you!" in a fit of rage and turn his own weapon on himself.
George was a man of principle, but his boundaries—much like Locke's—were actually quite flexible when pushed. Furthermore, George wasn't an idiot; he would never do something that drastic.
Besides, Locke estimated that by the time his identity was exposed, George would likely already be a grandfather. Once the ship had sailed, George would rationalize it on his own.
With these thoughts swirling in his mind, Locke felt a sudden wave of clarity.
*Thud-thud-thud-thud—*
The rhythmic, heavy thumping of chopper blades began to echo from the distance, drawing closer and closer overhead. Moments later, a helicopter bearing the insignia of the Department of Homeland Security touched down gracefully in the clearing.
Like everyone else in the lobby, Locke looked out through the massive glass windows. As he watched the two figures step out of the chopper, a faint smile crossed his face, his internal composure completely undisturbed.
Gwen, however, looked surprised.
"Locke, look. Isn't that the person from the Poseidon...?"
"Yeah." Locke nodded.
The two individuals disembarking from the helicopter were Natasha Romanoff and Barbara Morse. One hailed from S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters, while the other was from the S.H.I.E.L.D. New York Operations Center.
Wait a minute. Had Nick Fury and Phil Coulson taken a trip to hell, leaving the entire Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division without a single competent man?
Where was Hawkeye? Where was Crossbones?
Locke mused over the thought as he watched Black Widow and Mockingbird. Instead of heading toward the main lodge, they approached a nearby state trooper, conversed briefly, and immediately boarded dirt bikes to head into the mountains.
They had clearly received word of a vampire presence and arrived to handle the cleanup.
...
Down by the shores of Leica Lake, the clearing was a scene of total carnage. Carcasses of wild boars and headless human remains were scattered across the ground. State troopers and local law enforcement had established a tight perimeter around the ridge overlooking the lake.
*Beep.*
Dismounting from their dirt bikes, Black Widow and Mockingbird equipped a pair of specialized tactical glasses—a recent creation from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s tech division featuring distinctive yellow-tinted lenses capable of long-range audio transmission and real-time video feed integration.
The visual feed synced simultaneously with S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters and the New York Operations Center, allowing the command staff to see exactly what the two agents were observing.
The boars and the headless corpses had already been gathered into neat rows. Mockingbird knelt, pulling a rapid-testing kit from her vest. She extracted a sterile swab, ran it across the blood of a headless vampire, and inserted it into the chemical solution.
Within seconds, the transparent liquid in the vial turned a deep, murky black. Mockingbird looked up at Black Widow and gave a firm nod.
Confirmed. It was definitely a vampire strain.
Black Widow stared down at the five headless bodies of the fugitives before summoning the local liaison agent.
"Who neutralized these targets?"
"Two officers who happened to be vacationing here from New York and Chicago."
"Names?"
"Inspector George Stacy of the NYPD, and Detective Sergeant Hank Voight of the Chicago Police Department's 21st District."
"..."
***
Sup guys, goal is same as last week.
Every 100 stones is a bonus until 300.
500 stones = 3 bonus chapters like yesterday.
Thanks for the great support y'all 💕
***
Read 40 Chapters early on P-atreon.com/Redestro666