Boom!
In the past, Locke had thought that cars flying into the air after a tire explosion were just movie effects.
But right now?
Locke was finally enlightened!
It turned out to be the absolute truth.
With the loss of its right rear wheel, the fiery red sports car lifted into the air with a deafening roar and began to spin. Even before Locke fired the first shot at the tire, the car doors had already burst open, and a woman and a man tumbled out.
Thud!
Locke swerved, barely dodging the wheel that had come flying off the car.
But the Raptor pickup truck following him wasn't so lucky. The wheel bounced directly into the pickup's windshield.
Crash!
Thump!
Locke raised an eyebrow and glanced at the tumbling car.
Locke suddenly raised his pistol and stretched his arm out through the open window, aiming at the car behind him.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Click!
Locke stared directly at the windshield, which now had a large dent and hundreds of massive cracks radiating across its entire surface.
Locke opened his door and stepped out just as Cross, driving the pickup, crashed into his car.
Boom!
The pickup truck rammed the Audi R8 without seeming to notice. At the same time, Locke's precious car was spun sideways, an enormous dent marring its rear.
Cross didn't stop there. He drove up to Wesley, who had just gotten to his feet after jumping from the car, looking completely bewildered. The man quickly threw open the door and reached out to grab Wesley.
Bang!
— A-ah!
A bullet struck Cross's hand directly.
But...
Cross didn't stop. He managed to snatch Wesley, dragging him inside the vehicle. After that, the Raptor roared, its engine howling loudly as it sped away in an instant.
It seemed Cross was telling Locke that he didn't care about Fox; he only needed Wesley.
He was effectively saying, "We're leaving, don't pursue us."
Locke narrowed his eyes, watching Cross carry off his quarry.
Bang!
Bang!
Locke glanced back at Fox, who was just pulling her trigger, and fired in response. The bullets collided mid-air and both fell to the ground. He looked at the pickup again, but it was already far away.
"Bastard, once I sort things out here, I'm coming for you," Locke mentally vowed.
The guy cracked his neck. His eyes, hidden behind sunglasses, watched Fox.
This time, the shootout was at close range!
Six bullets were fired by both sides in an instant, but none hit their mark; they all collided in mid-air and dropped to the ground.
An equal level of marksmanship.
Unfortunately, when another six bullets were fired, this time the winner was already determined.
Locke claimed a decisive victory.
Because...
He didn't need to reload, but Fox...
Bang!
Clang!
The shot struck the silver pistol in Fox's hands directly, sending it flying from her grip.
Then another bullet flew, hitting Fox directly in the knee, forcing her to drop to one knee.
How foolish.
"You truly decided to play close-quarters combat with me? That was your gravest mistake."
The corners of Locke's mouth lifted, and he tilted his head, watching Fox, who now looked no different from a harmless old woman, her previously icy gaze transformed into that of a small, defenseless girl.
Fox's eyes tried to say something.
The corner of Locke's mouth quirked up: — I don't appreciate being insulted!
Bang!
Blood instantly welled on Fox's chest and began to spread rapidly. Fox's gaze slowly began to dim.
Evidently.
Locke had shot her; he had no intention of leaving her alive.
He didn't hesitate for a second!
Locke also liked beautiful women; he was still a man, after all.
But...
Locke had no love for this bitch.
Although, perhaps the kneeling woman wouldn't cause him any harm. But even the most beautiful flowers can have sharp thorns.
— Drop your weapon!
— ...
Locke, still wearing his sunglasses, turned to see George Stacy, who had arrived much earlier than the rest of the police crowd. He stepped out of his car, shouting at Locke, his pistol aimed: — Drop your weapon, right now!
Locke chuckled.
This was another classic movie scene.
The arbiters of justice always arrive late!
— And if I don't?
— ...What?
Locke, dressed in a suit and sunglasses, wasn't worried that George would recognize him. He smiled at George: — I said I won't drop it. Your large army isn't here, do you understand what that means?
A wary expression appeared on George's face: — Sinner Hunter, you are under arrest.
Locke burst into laughter.
George truly didn't want to say that, and he never thought he'd ever say such a thing. But for two whole years, the police of Texas and New York had been hunting the guy in front of him; what else could he say?
Locke laughed and shook his head, ready to turn and leave.
He still had to catch Cross.
No one...
No one dares to steal his prey!
Locke glanced at the incomplete mission. The mission clearly stated to kill Wesley and Fox, but he had only managed to kill one target.
If he only completed half the mission, he wouldn't receive the reward.
Bang!
— Stop!
Locke looked at the sparks that flashed three meters away from him, then shifted his gaze to George and narrowed his eyes: — I don't want to kill you.
The tragedy of the Stacy family would be caused by a [Spider].
Honestly, Locke himself had recently said he wanted [Spider] abilities. With those abilities, he could incredibly skillfully wield his surroundings and weapons. For example, he could simply snatch the weapon from George's hands with webbing.
But he wasn't a [Spider]. He had no webbing. And if he killed George, Gwen would be sad.
Then again, if there truly were a [Spider] in his version of this universe… Gwen and George would both die.
Locke didn't have many friends, even in Texas, let alone New York. In fact, here, he only had one friend — Gwen. She was even the first to approach him.
— I told you, drop your weapon! I am a police officer!
— How quaint.
Locke's ears twitched slightly. There were about two minutes left until reinforcements arrived.
That was enough.
But...
Locke raised his hand, aiming directly at the helicopter.
He fired...
Bang!
Bang!
He wasn't aiming at the pilot, so he only hit the windows. The helicopter immediately pulled up and flew away. After all, they were piloted by humans, and they were far from fearless.
Then Locke looked at George and quietly chuckled: — Who do you think is faster on the draw, you or I?
A wary expression appeared on George's face.
— All right, Sheriff Stacy, it's been a long day. I suggest we go our separate ways peacefully.
George flushed.
But...
Despite the man's words.
Neither of them moved.
— Shoot, — Locke sighed.
George frowned.
Locke looked at George: — Either shoot now, or wait for your army to arrive. Aren't you also curious how many bullets I have left in my pistol? How many of your comrades will fall before I'm finally shot down?
Locke killed bad guys without any psychological burden.
But...
Locke was equally merciless when someone stood in his way!
After all, the System had said...
He is the [Arbiter of Destiny]!
And anyone who impedes the execution of destiny is a villain. And what do you do with villains? That's right, you kill them.
So.
Locke looked at George: — What are you thinking, Sheriff?
While George pondered whether to shoot or not.
Locke was already prepared.
Of course.
He would end George's life the moment he dared to shoot at him.
That is...
Locke gave George a second chance because of Gwen.
But he wasn't going to give him a third chance!
He would never forgive those who tried to kill him.
He wanted to live.
Live until the end of time!
He is the [Arbiter of Destiny], a player.
Fate is with him… even if it wants him dead... What difference does it make, anyway?