On one side was a gorgeous, blossoming beauty.
On the other side was an old hag who had lived for over two hundred years.
In the middle of the night, deciding whom to keep company was not a multiple-choice question; it was a total freebie.
Locke changed the subject and said a word to Carrie. Afterward, he casually walked toward Gwen, who was sitting on a chair and listening attentively to Nan as if attending a class.
Nan was sitting opposite Gwen.
Her baby-fat cheeks and innocent eyes were focused on Gwen.
Endowed with the talent of telepathy precisely because of her pure soul, she gazed at Gwen with an expression that held a trace of wonder.
After a moment.
Having attempted it several times, Nan finally shook her head. "I cannot perceive your thoughts."
Gwen blinked.
"Huh?"
"It feels like there is a barrier in your mind preventing me from entering."
"..."
Hearing these words, Zoe looked at Gwen. "You aren't an ordinary person?"
Madison glanced at the approaching Locke, and upon hearing Zoe's question, also looked at Gwen with curiosity.
Gwen parted her lips. "I am positive that my grandparents are all ordinary people, and there were no witches among my ancestors."
"Then why is it like this?"
"Fascinating."
Zoe and Nan exchanged glances.
Gwen paused slightly, then thought of something and looked at Nan. "Could it be because I studied psychological defense?"
This time, Locke also raised an eyebrow.
Nan thought for a moment. "That is possible."
After all, their power originated from the Salem dimension. Now that the Salem dimension had fallen into slumber, the power of many witch abilities had naturally diminished drastically.
Just like this telepathy, Nan could perceive the thoughts of one pedestrian after another on the street because those pedestrians had no defenses up. But if she were to read someone who was on guard, it was naturally very difficult.
"Psychological defense?"
After returning to the hotel and entering the room, Locke looked at Gwen with curiosity. "Does psychology have such a branch?"
Gwen took off her scarf and smiled. "Do you remember Ms. Cahill?"
"The police department's medical expert, negotiation expert, and psychology expert?" Maureen Cahill was another person whom the NYPD treated like three employees while only paying a single salary.
Therefore...
Maureen Cahill simply chose to resign and then transferred to the LAPD.
Gwen hummed in confirmation. "This is what Ms. Cahill taught me during the week she resigned. She said that if I learned this, no one would be able to steal anything from my thoughts or dreams."
"...Inception?"
"Yes, that's how Ms. Cahill explained it."
Gwen shrugged, taking off her pink down jacket. "Cahill taught me to train my own mental and dream guardians. I have to say, it feels quite amazing."
Locke chuckled.
Alright.
Who would have thought that Maureen Cahill was an extractor...
Wait.
Those who infiltrate other people's dreams are called extractors, but what are the ones who protect their dreams called?
Locke thought to himself. There was nothing he could do; that movie was far too brain-burning and didn't suit Locke, who always preferred simple and brute methods, so he hadn't watched it closely.
However, this was a good thing.
Maureen Cahill hadn't trained Gwen to become an extractor; rather, she had trained Gwen to develop skills to resist extractors. No matter which angle you looked at it from, there were only benefits and no drawbacks.
Therefore...
Locke stepped forward, embracing Gwen, who had taken off her down jacket and wore a form-fitting sweater that accentuated her figure. He smiled softly. "Darling, time to sleep."
He was very curious about how long Gwen's endurance had improved.
The next day.
The breakfast buffet restaurant at the Hilton Hotel.
Mr. Nobody sat with his legs crossed. "It is truly great to be young."
Sitting opposite him, rubbing his waist and feeling that he might have used too much force last night—or perhaps because of a prolonged mechanical movement that left his waist feeling a bit sore—Locke raised his head and glanced at Mr. Nobody. "What are you trying to say?"
Mr. Nobody smiled. "Just reminding you that you are very young right now."
Locke gave Mr. Nobody a somewhat suspicious look, then thought of something, shook his head helplessly, and took a sip of his coffee.
"Don't you have things to do today? For example, interrogating the Dolan Church to see if they have any secret bases where they hold witches captive?"
"They ran away."
"...Huh?"
Locke looked up at Mr. Nobody. "Are you joking with me?"
Ran away?
Mr. Nobody shook his head. "No. Word leaked from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s side. When Nash and Egorova led the team to make the arrest, the people were already gone from the hotel."
Locke couldn't help but laugh.
However, this reason seemed plausible enough. After all, within S.H.I.E.L.D., practically everyone was a double agent—or rather, it would be more accurate to say that Hydra had a few S.H.I.E.L.D. agents mixed in among them.
Mr. Nobody said, "When Hill was coming over, she mentioned that the thirty-sixth generation Dolan priest had called. Hill directly told him to get lost, which probably put that old fellow on high alert."
How should one put it?
Mr. Nobody felt that Hill had done this on purpose.
First, she gave him the address of those people as a favor, allowing her to come find him and meet the witches together.
Then...
She secretly tipped them off behind the scenes, making Mr. Nobody's people come up empty-handed. After that, she could use a diversion to round up the Dolan cultists in secret and present them to the coven herself.
Spies always had filthy hearts.
Especially those from S.H.I.E.L.D., whose hearts were dirty enough to dye cloth.
But...
He had no evidence.
Locke nodded and looked at Mr. Nobody with curiosity. "Then how do you still have the time to come running to me?"
Mr. Nobody said, "The people might run, but the church can't. I pulled some strings, and the FBI has launched investigations into Dolan Churches across the country right at this moment. The instant any illegal activity is found, they will arrest them directly."
As for those dozen or so people who fled?
Heh.
Where could they possibly run? Besides, even if the people escaped, demolishing their home base would achieve the same result.
Sipping his coffee, Locke gave Mr. Nobody a thumbs-up.
"Domineering."
"If we aren't domineering, why would we be called the CIA?"
"...Fair point."
Looking at the completely uninhibited Mr. Nobody, Locke let out a speechless laugh.
Just then.
The restaurant elevator doors opened.
Having rested for less than an hour, a refreshed Gwen walked out of the elevator alongside Carrie. Then, Gwen, who had initially intended to walk toward Locke, saw Mr. Nobody sitting across from him and directly pulled Carrie over to pick out breakfast first.
Mr. Nobody glanced at Gwen, then looked back at Locke. "Now that your girlfriend knows you joined the CIA, she didn't blame you for hiding it from her?"
Locke sipped his coffee. "Mr. Nobody, who said I was hiding it from her?"
Mr. Nobody paused slightly, looking at Locke.
Locke's expression remained completely calm.
The next second.
Mr. Nobody took out his sunglasses from his coat and put them on. "Alright, I'm heading out. For other people, the boss speaks and the subordinates run their legs off. In my case, it's the exact opposite. Don't tell me you are the boss and I'm the subordinate?"
Looking at Mr. Nobody standing up and teasing him, Locke curled his lips into a smile. "You can call yourself Old Nobody. I don't mind!"
Speaking of which...
Mr. Nobody would seemingly have a Little Nobody in the future.
Then what was wrong with adding an Old Nobody?
However.
"I mind!"
Mr. Nobody remarked speechlessly. He had merely teased him a bit, yet Locke had immediately taken the opportunity to climb over his head and act like his boss.
"I'm off."
"Take care."
"..."
New Orleans Port!
Click!
"Don't move!"
"DHS!"
"Drop your weapons!"
With a thud.
The door of a warehouse at the port was pushed open directly from the outside. Before the Crusader descendants—who had transferred here less than five hours ago—could even react, they had just grabbed their exorcism weapons when they saw the dense laser dots aimed at their bodies.
The Crusader descendants looked up.
Right before their eyes.
They were completely surrounded.
"Who are you?"
The captain of the Crusader descendants, who had led the team here and felt an overwhelming streak of bad luck this year, raised both hands and looked at the heavily armed law enforcement officers in front of him. "We haven't done anything illegal."
"I know."
"..."
Hawkeye Agent Barton, holding his compound bow, walked out from the back and looked at the Crusader captain. "We don't need evidence either."
With that said.
Hawkeye Barton waved his hand. "Take them away!"
A slight commotion stirred among the Crusader descendants, but no matter how much they agitated, they were no match for the suppression of genuine firepower. Very quickly, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents disguised as Homeland Security effortlessly subdued the twelve Crusader descendants.
"Twelve?"
Hawkeye Barton walked to the back of the armored vehicle and looked at the handcuffed Crusader captain. "I recall there were fourteen of you when you came over. Where are the other two? The two people who came from Portland, they are also members of your Dolan Church, right?"
Truth be told, Hawkeye Barton had always believed that the Dolan Church only dealt with dark witches.
However...
Good grief.
The Crusader captain glanced at Hawkeye Barton expressionlessly without saying a word.
Seeing this, Barton didn't say anything either. He waved his hand and dialed Maria Hill directly.
"This is Hill."
"Director, all twelve people from New York have been captured."
"What about the two from Portland?"
"Missing."
"...They went back."
"Huh?"
Hill looked at the facial recognition program her subordinate had just brought out, as well as the passenger information for the last midnight flight to Portland, and said directly, "Have the Portland hub take over this matter. Barton, bring the people over."
Hawkeye nodded.
Hill hung up the phone.
The corners of her mouth curled upward slightly.
Indeed.
Just as Mr. Nobody had guessed, giving Mr. Nobody the hotel information was indeed her doing, but Hill would never admit to tipping anyone off.
She had simply prepared extra measures.
Right after she told that thirty-sixth generation Dolan priest to get lost.
***
Bonus chapter
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