Water meter check?
...Uh, what?
Cross's anger instantly vanished, as if he hadn't been furious at all.
Soon, the apartment door swung open.
No... more precisely, it was kicked in. The "official" suddenly shot the lock somewhere in the door and kicked it open.
Cross reacted quickly, slashing the ropes binding Wesley.
But!
Wesley, still tied to the chair, abruptly sprang to his feet and intentionally headbutted his "father" directly on the nose.
Blood gushed from Cross's nose, accompanied by the sound of bone breaking.
— Well, I'll be damned.
As Lock put on his sunglasses and pushed the door open, he saw Cross clutching his nose, his hands covered in his own blood. It surprised him greatly; he even whistled.
But Lock's surprise didn't last long.
The Peerless One swiftly raised his hand towards the thief of his prey.
*Bang!*
*Bang!*
Two bullets collided mid-air instantly.
Cross's expression wasn't much different from Fox's when she saw Lock hit a bullet with another bullet.
Lock chuckled softly, leaning against the wall, radiating a certain glow: — I think you've slightly misunderstood and taken "my property." Understand? Now return it.
Cross stood before Lock and said: — I had no intention of interrupting your game; I just wanted to save my son, The Peerless One!
— H-hm...
Lock's lips curved upward as he heard the sound of something heavy hitting glass from above: — Listen, you told him you were his father, but he didn't believe you. But if Fox had said it... Wesley would have immediately changed his tune. Funny, isn't it?
Cross remained silent at the biting remark.
When Lock had first stepped out of the car, he immediately noticed that while the windows didn't look much different from the neighboring ones, they were significantly thicker. Well... let Wesley try to break bulletproof glass, good luck to him.
No, it would take him at least a dozen hits, and God knows with what, to break bulletproof glass. Let him try, though...
Lock glanced at his wristwatch and looked straight up at the second floor: — Wesley, I'm counting to three. If you don't come out, Fox dies.
Cross was stunned by these words and quickly called out: — Wesley, don't listen to him! He's lying, Fox is already dead!
— Hey! Don't lie! — Lock sneered and glanced behind the assassin's cover.
— Ugh, Wesley, believe your father!
— Hmm...
Lock ignored Cross and suddenly spoke towards the stairs leading to the second floor: — Kid, will you believe a stranger, or some random man who killed your father and is impersonating him? Wesley, don't forget, your father's suit is on you right now!
Those were Mr. X's words.
Not his own.
As for why Cross suddenly reacted... initially, the assassin didn't accept this kid as his son, but seeing his own suit... he began to act instinctively, recognizing him as his son.
Even though his son was somewhat foolish, he was still his son.
Suddenly, someone upstairs stopped trying to break the window.
Lock's expression darkened: — I repeat: I'm counting to three. If you don't come down, Fox is finished.
— One!..
Lock usually didn't bother with time. After all, he worked at night, and no one was looking for him since they didn't even know what he looked like.
But this was a special case.
It was already late, and Lock figured George Stacy would be knocking on his door no sooner than half an hour, or at the latest, tomorrow morning.
Although he had reported the Audi R8 stolen...
But getting George Stacy to believe it... that required time.
So he didn't have time to play hide-and-seek. If he weren't so frugal with his time, he would have already attacked the Brotherhood, but! He was frugal!
— Two!..
— Three!
— Wesley, talk to Fox before she dies...
— Alright, have it your way!
— Goodbye, Fox!
*Bang!*
*Bang!*
Suddenly, a silhouette shot out before him with incredible speed.
That silhouette stood before Cross, blocking the bullets with his own body. Even so, one bullet pierced Cross's shoulder, and the other, Wesley's ankle.
In an instant...
Wesley crumpled to the ground.
Cross wasn't in much better shape.
*Thump*
The man leaned against the wall, clutching his shot shoulder, bleeding profusely.
*Bang!*
*Bang!*
— Why?
Lock emerged from behind the door he'd hidden behind a second earlier, immediately after two more shots. He looked at the barely standing Cross and asked: — Why? Do you want to appear as a great father? Do you truly believe I'll just let him go after your death?
— Spare him!
He covered the bullet hole in his chest. His chest heaved heavily as he looked at Lock.
Lock chuckled.
— Give me a good reason not to kill him!
— He was misled.
— Well, in some ways, you're right, — Lock nodded with a righteous air. — You know, I'll give him a chance after all.
Lock approached Wesley and dragged him by the scruff of his neck towards Cross.
*Clang!*
Lock picked up the man's pistol and offered it to Wesley: — Kill him. Kill your father's enemy. Avenge him. I'll give you a chance.
Sweating cold, Wesley stared at the pistol offered to him.
A weapon!
Wesley's eyes lit up, and he seized the pistol.
A month ago, he was still a wimp.
But...
A weapon in his hands gave him confidence; he ceased to be a "wimp."
The moment Wesley gripped the pistol, he felt a measure of security.
Lock wasn't concerned by the pistol in Wesley's hand; he simply said, thoughtfully: — So? The man who killed your father is right in front of you. Will you kill him or what?
Wesley glanced at Cross, who was gasping in his own blood.
The blood-soaked man was utterly defenseless, a smile gracing his face.
Wesley remained silent.
Lock smirked, intensifying the pressure: — Fox isn't dead; she's in the trunk of my car. Do you want to see her?
The image of Fox flashed through Wesley's mind.
And...
Desire surged!
Cross looked at Wesley's expression, then at Lock with an unreadable gaze, and sighed internally: — Oh well, I shouldn't have left you with your mother; I should have taken you with me.
Wesley glared at Lock with a murderous expression: — I'll kill you...
*Bang!*
— Urgh!
Wesley's eyes widened, and he instantly lowered his head, collapsing forward onto the floor, a bullet hole appearing between his eyebrows. He didn't even have time to understand what happened before he died.
Cross stared at his dead son's face with an incredibly complex expression.
Lock lowered his right hand and looked at the man: — What, not even a thank you?
Evidently.
The moment Wesley, for some reason, aimed the pistol at Lock, he sided with Cross, his father.
Only...
To him, he was nothing more than a cockroach. That's all rookie assassins were worth in his eyes.
Cross glanced at Lock, who was speaking, and closed his eyes.
Lock smiled.
*Bang!*
— Cross, you only have yourself to blame; you shouldn't have stolen my prey.
— Or...
— You shouldn't have dropped Mr. X's corpse on my car!
— ...