"You know Zoe?"
"No."
After exiting the witch academy with Cordelia, Locke walked over and opened the door of an Audi R8 he had borrowed for the trip. Looking at Cordelia, he asked, "What makes you say that?"
Once inside the vehicle, Cordelia replied, "I thought you mentioned before that your identity shouldn't be revealed to others."
Locke smiled gently. "I am merely Locke—a handsome guy born in Texas, coming from New York, who happens to possess a wealth of social experience. There is nothing shameful about that."
Cordelia blanked slightly.
Locke chuckled. "Besides, I happen to quite like witches. Otherwise, I wouldn't be doing all this, would I?"
While it was mostly for the sake of the mission.
But...
Even without the mission, Locke would have likely taken action anyway. At most, he simply wouldn't have actively intervened in the selection of the Supreme Witch.
Cordelia remained silent for a brief moment before choosing to shift the topic.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll know when we arrive."
"..."
Much like New York City—or rather, just like any other city within the US—by the time the clock struck two or three in the morning, the streets were fundamentally empty, plunged into pitch-black stillness.
At this hour, if anyone active on the streets were apprehended by the police department, eight out of ten would turn out to be thieves, while the remaining two would likely be individuals carrying criminal records.
What ordinary person in the America would wander outside during the dead of night? Or rather, who would still be loitering outdoors past ten o'clock instead of returning home?
Very swiftly.
On the rooftop of a skyscraper directly facing the New Orleans Police Department.
After ascending the rooftop, Locke walked over to the edge of the terrace with Cordelia, casting a glance down at the main entrance of the precinct directly across from them. He looked at Cordelia beside him.
"How is the visibility? Can you see clearly?"
Following Locke's gaze toward the precinct, Cordelia nodded before asking, "So, shouldn't you tell me why you brought me here now?"
Locke smiled smoothly. "Where I come from, there is a traditional custom. When a child is ready to graduate, a witness is required to validate the milestone."
"Graduation?"
"Exactly." Locke nodded, pointing toward a figure slowly advancing toward the New Orleans Police Department not far away. "Over there."
Cordelia directed her gaze along the line of his finger.
Beneath the hazy streetlamps of the distant avenue, accompanied by a sudden billowing shroud of purplish-black mist, the young woman Cordelia had previously seen by Locke's side stepped out from the fog once more under her watchful gaze. By this point, her appearance had undergone a monumental transformation.
Silver hair cascading over her shoulders.
Long boots.
A flowing trench coat.
A magnificent, ornate crown.
Cordelia frowned slightly. "I feel as though... I have seen this somewhere before."
"On television?"
Cordelia snapped her head around to look at Locke.
"Right, the Dark Sovereign, Syndra. The accomplice of the Peerless Assassin..."
"Precisely." Locke was entirely candid, nodding. "My younger sister."
Cordelia: "..."
Selecting Cordelia to act as the witness for Carrie's first independent operation was by no means a random choice on Locke's part.
Well.
Part of the reason was that Cordelia happened to be the very first person he and Carrie had met upon arriving in New Orleans. However, the far greater driving force was that Locke wanted Cordelia to understand a single fundamental truth:
What exact price must be paid for betraying him.
After all... the selection process for the Supreme Witch had not yet officially commenced.
Although Locke possessed a grand strategy to recruit Cordelia, variables always existed prior to formal recruitment. For the sake of absolute security, utilizing this opportunity to give her a subtle reality check was highly necessary.
As that saying went, *Betrayal only occurs when the chips on the table are insufficient.*
Locke intended to stack a few more chips. He was confident that practically no one could offer a higher stake than him.
Snapping back to reality, Cordelia pinned her focus onto Carrie, who had stepped out from the mist and was now clearing five meters with almost every single stride, gliding toward the precinct as if floating on thin air.
"What is she planning to do?" Cordelia blanked slightly. "Those people have already been arrested and locked up."
Locke nodded, fixing his gaze on Carrie. "Yes. But quite evidently, my sister feels that a legal judgment is far too merciful for those individuals."
Cordelia opened her mouth, at a loss for words.
Locke spoke with a serene smile, "Cordelia, I didn't just bring you here to act as a mere witness. Most importantly, I want to teach you a lesson: Mercy is something the strong bestow upon the weak. But when you are perceived as weak by outsiders, your mercy is nothing more than a form of vulnerable compliance to them."
Professor X actually understood this concept as well.
But...
Who told Professor X to physically reside in one camp while his heart belonged to another? If mutants were likened to a sovereign nation and ordinary humans to another, a figure like Professor X was undoubtedly a textbook traitor—in fact, a top-tier public intellectual undermining his own mutant nation.
Locke did not wish for Cordelia to learn from Professor X.
Although he frequently noted that he didn't mind playing the role of Magneto among the witches, his true ambitions lay far beyond such constraints.
Carrie had also been merciful once.
But after that fateful prom night, Carrie had fundamentally changed. Knowing one's errors and correcting them was the greatest virtue of all.
As they spoke.
*Thud!*
The tips of Carrie's boots gently touched the ground as she came to a halt right before the entrance of the New Orleans Police Department.
By the doorway, the five patrol officers assigned to the watch were currently yawning. Just a second ago, they had been muttering that since it was already five in the morning, it was highly improbable for anyone else to show up.
The very next second.
Catching sight of Carrie, who had suddenly descended gracefully from the air with her arms outstretched, dark magical spheres rotating dynamically around her palms, all traces of drowsiness instantly vanished from the five men.
"Wh—"
*Thud!*
Carrie's eyes, fully suffused with surging magical energy, swept a cold glance over them. Instantly, the five officers—who were preparing to sound the alarm or pull out their sidearms—felt a wave of intense paralysis ripple through their entire bodies.
Their eyes rolled back into their heads simultaneously, and they collapsed heavily to the floor with consecutive thuds.
However... after accomplishing this, Carrie did not choose to step into the interior of the precinct.
Locke raised an eyebrow, seemingly grasping her intent. "Fascinating choice."
"What is wrong with her?"
"Cordelia, would you like to know the story of my sister's past?"
"Hmm?"
"Have you ever heard of the Augusta Witch Case?"
"I have." Cordelia nodded. "Back then, upon receiving the report, we were already en route to the location. However, midway through the journey, word arrived that the witch had already..."
Speaking up to this point, Cordelia froze abruptly. Turning her gaze back toward Carrie—who had extended her arms once more as five dark spheres rotated rapidly around her body, lifting her into the air again—she gasped, "Could it be..."
Locke nodded, his face filled with genuine appreciation as he observed Carrie's current display, along with the New Orleans Police Department where sirens were now blaring dynamically. In a calm, measured tone, he began to narrate Carrie's past.
It mirrored the injustices endured by the vast majority of witches during their childhoods.
In fact... it struck an immediate chord of resonance deep within Cordelia.
The only difference was that Carrie had chosen to enact a definitive change, whereas Cordelia still maintained an unyielding faith in peace?
"To seek peace through submission yields only destruction!"
"To seek peace through struggle ensures survival!"
"Exactly like the spectacle unfolding right before us!"
"Blindly backing down, compromising, and showing mercy without the backing of absolute martial force will only cause others to perceive you as weak, incompetent, and easily exploited!"
*Bang!*
*Bang!*
*Bang!*
"WTF?"
"What's going on?!"
"What is happening?!"
"Ah!"
Accompanied by a series of shattering impacts, the door locks of the holding cells on the first floor of the precinct completely ruptured. Immediately following that, the locked-up members of the witch hunter group suddenly floated into the air entirely against their own volition.
They lined up sequentially, as if holding numbers for a lottery. Even as several patrol officers desperately grabbed onto them, they couldn't arrest the momentum forcing them outward.
Jim Rhodes was at the absolute vanguard of this line.
In fact... the moment he was dragged into the main lobby of the precinct, Jim Rhodes caught sight of the Dark Sovereign hovering in mid-air outside! Five dark magical spheres rotated rapidly around her form, establishing an absolute defensive barrier that rendered the continuous gunfire of several officers completely incapable of breaching her lines.
"No!"
Catching the icy, flame-ignited gaze Carrie directed toward him, Jim Rhodes snapped back to reality. Reaching out frantically, he grabbed onto a nearby patrol officer. "Save me!"
"WTF?!"
The officer who had been grabbed blanked slightly. Realizing that he was also beginning to float upward due to the momentum, he let out a torrent of curses. Instinctively, he delivered a savage slap straight across Jim Rhodes' face. "Let the fuck go of me!"
*Thud!*
Jim Rhodes let out a cry of pain, involuntarily releasing his grip.
The officer tumbled back down onto the floor, his backside aching intensely. Yet, a wave of profound relief washed over his heart, carrying the distinct sensation of having survived a brush with death.
"Shit!"
Cop, who had already emptied an entire magazine, stared up at the expressionless Carrie hovering in mid-air. Turning his head to look at the continuous string of suspects floating out of the precinct building like a skewer of candied hawthorns, he roared in fury toward the sky.
"Damn it! We've already captured them!"
Following Cop's roar, the surrounding patrol officers who had been stationed at the precinct waiting to spring a trap on Carrie ceased their gunfire.
"Save me!"
"Damn it, save me quickly!"
"Useless! A bunch of useless trash!"
"..."
The countless members of the witch hunter group, floating into the sky one after another in a neat line, bellowed in unbridled rage. They knew exactly what kind of horrific fate awaited them once they were targeted by a vengeful witch.
But... while they desperately wanted to drag someone down with them as a cushion, the patrol officers weren't fools either.
Combating ordinary crime was a job, but protecting their own lives belonged to them. Besides, this entire scene was simply too magical, vastly exceeding the operational purview of a regular police officer.
Up in mid-air.
Carrie seemingly caught Cop's furious roar. Lowering her head, her icy, magic-infused gaze locked onto Cop. "A legal judgment is a form of mercy to them!"
Cop bellowed back, "You have no authority to judge—"
"Then what about them?"
"What?"
"The law holds no authority, and I hold no authority. Then what about the witches they once dispatched straight to Hell?"
"..."
Carrie spoke expressionlessly, "Our mercy was a gift bestowed upon you. Yet you perceived our mercy as weakness!"
With those words, Carrie aimed her open right hand toward the members of the witch hunter group who were wailing and raging as they floated into the sky, every single one of them stained with the blood of witches.
"In the name of the Dark Sovereign, using them as an absolute sacrifice—return to this world, furious spirits of the fallen witches!!"
The moment her words fell.
*Boom!*
Instantly, a series of wretched, blood-curdling shrieks rent the air. Cop and the assembled crowd couldn't resist raising their eyes to look upward.
Laid bare before their eyes!
With a thunderous roar, pillars of mysterious, ink-black fire erupted, instantly beginning to incinerate the bodies of those men mid-air.
***
Bonus chapter. Next at 200 stones
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