42

Chapter 42: Forty-two, Tell Me Why

Boo!

A golden eagle emitted a sharp cry, soaring swiftly past Xingchen Building's twenty-eighth floor, like a balloon in flight.

From his vantage point, Locke observed calmly as he watched TV on the living room sofa.

Crystal clear.

Callum Lynch stared at the ringing phone, swiftly answering and switching to speaker mode.

"Hello!"

"It's said that..."

The voice on the other end was deep and magnetic, distinct from Locke's. "Are you looking for me?"

"There's something of ours..."

"This is my trophy."

"Mr. Wushuang."

Callum Lynch furrowed his brow. "I've reviewed your file. You punish the wicked, and I believe you're not entirely malevolent. That item is dangerously powerful if it falls into the wrong hands."

Locke smirked. "I'm quite dangerous myself."

He wondered.

How would the Roman Brotherhood attempt to take the Golden Apple from his grasp?

Through negotiation?

Or direct action?

If it's the former, Locke isn't impressed. If it's the latter, he's not intimidated.

"Mr. Wushuang..."

Callum Lynch paused. "Some matters aren't suited for discussion over the phone. Perhaps we could meet in person. Please consider."

Locke pondered briefly. "New York Continental Hotel, in half an hour."

"Thank you!"

"No problem. I happen to be enjoying a drink here. I'll give you ten minutes. All five of you can come. I can handle the five of you."

"..."

Callum hung up, and his four companions scanned their surroundings. A sharp golden eagle circled high above, but there was no other visible activity.

Callum glanced up at the Star Building's twenty-eighth floor, where Locke remained on the living room sofa. He turned to his group. "Let's go."

If Callum Lynch were to encounter Locke at Star Building now, he would test Locke's words with his own hands.

Simultaneously, inside Xingchen Building, Locke rose and moved to an obscured corner of the living room. With a whoosh, he transformed into a crimson mist. When the mist dissipated, Locke had vanished without a trace.

Continental Hotel, ground floor bar.

Upon exiting the elevator with his team, Callum Lynch immediately spotted their target.

"Mr. Wushuang."

Approaching Locke seated in a booth, Callum observed him calmly sipping bourbon, then extended his hand. "I believe ten minutes should suffice."

Locke glanced up, ignoring the offered handshake, gesturing to the opposite seat. "You have twenty minutes left."

Callum wasn't offended. He sat down with Rosa, the lone female assassin, and directed his attention to Locke, clad in sunglasses. "Mr. Wushuang, how familiar are you with the Golden Apple?"

Locke chuckled. "Not much. I know I possess Apple No. 6."

Is that sufficient for the plot?

Understanding more wouldn't pose barriers.

After all...

He's seen Assassin's Creed, played Assassin's Creed.

Leap of Faith!

The aspiration of countless men.

Callum: "..."

Is that all he knows?

For those unfamiliar, the Apple of Eden, the Golden Apple, might seem singular. But those knowledgeable know of the six genuine Golden Apples.

Across ages, six Golden Apples endure today,

Three remain.

One, the second Golden Apple, held by the Roman Brotherhood.

Another, Golden Apple No. 5, supposedly in the Commonwealth.

The third, No. 6, in Locke's possession.

Of the others, one was destroyed by Callum upon awakening, preventing the Temple from world annihilation; another fell to cosmic magic; the final was split by King Arthur, through contract with Merlin.

"Mr. Wushuang, the Golden Apple wields formidable power, indisputably."

Callum sought to reclaim the Golden Apple. This wasn't about battle but dialogue. "Its use exacts a dire price."

The Golden Apple's power demands sacrifice to harness.

Locke's expression remained indifferent. "I'm aware."

Energy inexhaustible, he owes no toll, if any.

Locke possesses his own reserve.

He shook his head, set down his glass, and focused on Callum. "You seek me for the Golden Apple in my possession, yes?"

Callum affirmed.

"Why not reclaim it from the New York Fraternity?"

"..."

Callum began, "We're preparing, but the Fraternity—"

Locke understood: bullying the meek, fearing the strong?

A classic theory: the good guy and the bad, only the good guy bullies?

Ah.

Seated beside Callum, Rosa, the female assassin, frowned. "You—"

"Rosa!"

"Callum?"

Locke smiled gently, regarding Callum who silenced Rosa, then pressed, "Why would you, after tying me with sixteen killers at the textile factory, dare not collect from the New York Fraternity?"

Logical gymnastics.

But true.

Callum feared the Fraternity, yet Locke braved them alone. Ordinary, Locke's one threatens more than the Fraternity.

"And we're not alone in knowing the Golden Apple."

"Um?"

"A secret group approached us, seeking recruitment."

Callum recollected the organization approaching after gathering Roman Brotherhood descendants, awakening ancestral memory to thwart the Temple. "They courted us, but, we're many; you're one."

Locke: "..."