"Mr. Broughton, it's been a while. I didn't expect to run into you out here."
"Indeed, what a coincidence. I didn't expect it either."
Locke maintains his gentlemanly poise as he shakes hands with Mockingbird, Barbara Morse. His expression is the picture of refined elegance and easygoing charm.
He actually quite likes S.H.I.E.L.D.'s attitude toward him ever since the incident on the Poseidon. Forgetting each other in the wider world and staying out of each other's hair is best for everyone.
See? Ever since Nick Fury kicked the bucket, Locke has realized that S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't nearly as annoying as it used to be. They are actually quite sensible now.
If Nick Fury were still around, that stubborn old spymaster would have kept hounding him over and over again, completely ignoring the fact that he'd already been beaten senseless.
Now that S.H.I.E.L.D. has a new leadership structure—whether it's Hydra in disguise or a faction of pragmatic women—both groups understand a basic truth: they know exactly who can be provoked and who is best left completely alone.
So, taking Nick Fury off the board offered an incredibly high return on investment.
With these thoughts drifting through his mind, Locke breaks the handshake and offers a smooth smile.
"So, the Department of Homeland Security again, huh?"
Barbara Morse offers a textbook, professional smile.
"We normally wouldn't have intervened, but given that all of you were direct witnesses to the event, I'm sure you understand."
Aside from Helen and Rebecca, everyone else—George, Hank, Gwen, Erin, and Locke—knows exactly what Barbara Morse means by that.
Barbara smiles faintly, then turns her attention to George and Hank.
"Inspector Stacy, Detective Sergeant Voight, could we have a private word? Please rest assured, we bear no ill will whatsoever, and we have no intention of delaying your summer vacation plans."
In truth, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s original plan involved deploying a memory-wiping device immediately. Had the name George Stacy not appeared on the report, that neural-cleansing tech would already be active on-site. But who could have predicted George Stacy would be right in the middle of it?
Furthermore, once they realized Locke was also present, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s collective reaction mirrored Locke's own: a brief wave of surprise, immediately followed by the realization that it was entirely typical of their luck.
Ever since the Poseidon, and following a very stern warning from Langley's Mr. Nobody, S.H.I.E.L.D. had completely halted all operations regarding Locke—including their preliminary, theoretical assessment protocols.
They had assumed Langley was preparing to approach and recruit Locke themselves. Yet, half a year has passed, and Langley hasn't made a single move.
Still, that hasn't changed S.H.I.E.L.D.'s chosen strategy regarding Locke: Don't ask, don't tell, don't get involved. The last time they crossed paths with Locke, it resulted in the death of their Director. If they try anything again, they might lose another one.
...
Inside a makeshift tactical tent erected on the open ground outside the lodge...
"Gentlemen." Barbara Morse accepts two cups of coffee from a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who enters the tent. She gives a brief nod, dismissing the agent, before handing the cups to George and Hank.
"It's instant. The taste probably won't compare to what they serve at the lodge."
Neither George nor Hank is in the mood for coffee. However, given Barbara's accommodating demeanor, George takes his cup and gets straight to the point.
"What is it you want to know?"
Barbara sits down and opens a nearby terminal. As the screen flares to life, Maria Hill at S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters (the Triskelion) and Victoria Hand at the New York Operations Center appear on a split-screen feed.
Maria Hill stands with her hands clasped firmly behind her back, studying George and Hank through the display.
"Inspector Stacy, why don't you walk us through the sequence of events from the beginning?"
George and Hank exchange a flat look.
...
Outside, Locke and Gwen stand near the doorway of their room, watching the tactical tent from a short distance away.
Locke, whose six senses are always exceptionally acute, studies the structure with a hint of curiosity. He can easily overhear the whispered conversation between two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents standing three hundred meters away from the tent.
Yet, the audio originating from inside the tent reaches his ears sounding heavily muffled, as though it were wrapped in a thick sheet of plastic.
'The material used for that tent must be specially engineered dampening fabric,' Locke notes silently. He glances down at Gwen, who is staring intently at her phone screen.
Through the corner of his eye, he catches the text on her screen: Vampires. Origin of Vampires. Do Vampires Exist? Vampire...
Locke arches an eyebrow.
"I thought you weren't particularly curious about this."
In all honesty, back at Leica Lake, Gwen had seemed entirely composed aside from an initial flash of surprise. Locke had almost assumed she already possessed inside information—perhaps George had secretly warned her about the existence of vampires before?
George definitely knew about them. His reaction had given him away completely; there was nothing but a mild flash of surprise on his face when the creature turned.
Gwen looks up at Locke.
"At the time, my adrenaline was spiking, which kept my curiosity suppressed. But Locke, you don't seem curious at all. Why is that?"
Turning the tables? Locke smiles effortlessly. "Come on, I'm from Texas, We've seen all kinds of strange things out there. Besides, doesn't the Bible mention vampires too?"
"Are you referring to Cain?"
"Yeah."
"Locke."
"Hmm?"
"I finally believe you when you say you aren't a religious believer."
"..."
Locke looks at her, mildly amused. He has never claimed to be a believer, and he made that clear from the very beginning. But what makes her so certain now?
Gwen explains, "The Bible never states that Cain was a vampire. There is absolutely no such record in the canonical scriptures, the Apocrypha, or the Pseudepigrapha. No scholar would ever support that theory."
According to scripture, the divine punishment inflicted upon Cain is described clearly without any mention of him transforming into a vampire or a different species.
He lived out his life as a human, fathered children with his wife, and even built his own city. His entire lineage was subsequently wiped out during the Great Deluge due to their transgressions.
Gwen tilts her head up slightly to look at Locke. "Though, Helen Cho seems to share your theory about Cain being a vampire."
"Cho?"
"Dr. Helen Cho from Brooklyn. Didn't you know? She was headhunted by Mrs. Corde. She'll be joining our school for the fall semester this September."
"...I wasn't aware." He is only interested in the Maximoff twins, who were supposedly transferring from Sokovia but have yet to arrive. He has zero interest in anyone else joining the school, so long as they don't get in the way of him earning system points.
Locke chuckles. "Alright, so Cain isn't one. Did you find any other answers?"
Gwen hands her phone over.
"Here."
Locke takes it. The name *Count Dracula* dominates the screen, accompanied by a conceptual illustration: a man with pristine, slicked-back hair, dressed in a dark formal suit and draped in a sweeping black cape.
Dracula existed in his previous world, and he exists here too; that much isn't surprising. However, this particular database notes that while Dracula was a vampire, his wife was actually a witch.
He had exposed his true nature to save his witch wife from the height of the historic witch trials. Upon discovering they were dealing with both a vampire and a witch—a double heresy—an enraged mob had put Dracula's castle to the torch.
'So it's an alternate historical interpretation,' Locke notes. He looks up from the screen at Gwen.
"I still don't see any concrete, absolute proof here that Dracula was a vampire."
Gwen counters, "The Peerless Assassin already proved that witchcraft actually exists. So for vampires, perhaps the legends aren't entirely fabricated either."
"You just said Cain—"
"The scriptures explicitly state Cain wasn't a vampire. Does Dracula have a text like that?"
"No. But then again, the Peerless Assassin isn't exactly an official, textbook authority on the existence of witches either."
"True," Gwen nods. "The public narrative claims that the Peerless Assassin's live broadcast was nothing more than an elaborate magic trick. But my profile on him is solid—the Peerless Assassin considers underhanded parlor tricks beneath him."
'Well, thank you for the vote of confidence,' Locke thinks.
"And besides..." Gwen smiles mischievously, looking at Locke.
"You forgot, I have access to the NYPD. I've actually seen that dead rat down in the basement."
Locke raises his brows. Fair enough. That is indeed a piece of irrefutable, material evidence. Otherwise, there would be absolutely no reason for the NYPD to keep a massive, filthy grey rat down in their basement vault without cause.
Gwen continues, "More importantly, my psychological profile of the Peerless Assassin has expanded significantly."
Locke focuses on her. "In what way?"
Gwen answers, "If witchcraft is real, then the age, height, and even the dark-spectacled likeness the assassin presents to the world could easily be an illusion. It's entirely possible that 'he' is actually a witch using glamours."
Locke's brow twitches slightly. "The Peerless Assassin is male. Witchcraft is typically an attribute associated with females."
Gwen shrugs. "I wouldn't know what a male practitioner of witchcraft is called. A warlock?"
"No."
"What?"
"Nothing." Locke smiles and shakes his head.
It certainly isn't a warlock. He had tried modifying his profession titles before; back when his system profession was designated as "Hitman," he attempted to alter it, and the system successfully updated it to "Assassin."
Naturally, he had tried to replicate that success with his supernatural capabilities. However, when he typed out a male variant for the witch profession and clicked confirm, the system halted the process entirely.
The system refused to recognize the term "Warlock," stating it conflicted with an existing entry among the system's three million distinct profession categories, and subsequent diagnostics confirmed Locke did not meet the criteria for that specific class.
But that isn't the main focus right now. Locke shifts his gaze back toward the tactical tent.
"Did you share this updated profile with George?"
Gwen shakes her head. "I did, but Dad just said there's no way a guy could be a witch."
Locke's brow twitches again. This is precisely why he prefers to operate under the "Assassin" mantle rather than openly utilizing his witch abilities; the title simply doesn't align with conventional gender logic.
Fortunately, Locke has just unlocked a much more fitting supernatural alternative.
He can now transform into a vampire.
***
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