Yes.
An audience!
Years ago, when Locke first executed a mission under the name of Peerless, Chester had also arranged a member of the audience to head over. After all, a grand performance would be entirely too boring without someone to witness it.
Or rather, how else would your reputation be propagated into the market?
Back then, Chester had invited an Adjudicator from the Continental Hotel to witness Locke's solo operation. It was precisely due to that event that Locke secured his Continental Hotel membership card, concurrently causing the name of the Peerless Assassin to enter the market.
However...
Locke had no intention of inviting an Adjudicator from the Continental Hotel this time. After all, Carrie was a witch, not an assassin, much less a common hitman.
Hitmen and assassins required their blood to be ice-cold.
But Carrie's blood was warm.
Therefore, Locke intended to invite a fellow witch over.
Cordelia.
Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies.
Inside a third-floor bedroom decorated in a minimalist, stark white aesthetic.
Sitting before her vanity mirror, Cordelia fiddled with the wedding ring on her finger. Remaining silent for a brief moment, she slowly slipped the wedding ring off.
*Whoosh!*
Cordelia snapped around, staring at the window that had suddenly been blown open, and subsequently, at the figure who had materialized inside her bedroom beneath the moonlight.
"Cain!"
"Call me Locke." Locke stepped out from beneath the moonlight, speaking with a smile, "My friends all call me that."
Cordelia rose to her feet.
Locke's gaze lingered briefly on the wedding ring discarded on the vanity table before turning back to Cordelia.
"So, I shouldn't address you as Mrs. Fox anymore?"
"Goode!" Cordelia voiced the surname she held prior to her marriage, before pinning her gaze onto Locke. "Thank you."
"Thank me for what?" Hearing Cordelia's sudden expression of gratitude, Locke smiled slightly. "Thank me for killing your husband?"
Cordelia replied, "I was already separated from him. It's just that I hadn't made up my mind to file for divorce yet."
Now she had directly become a widow.
Then again, it wasn't a bad thing.
Cordelia recalled the warnings from her irresponsible mother years ago. Back when Fiona predicted her marriage was destined to fail, Cordelia had been determined to ensure it wouldn't end precisely as foretold.
Fortunately.
It wasn't a divorce; it was widowhood. From a certain perspective, a marriage that ended in widowhood could not be classified as a failure.
"Furthermore..." Cordelia thought as much in her heart, turning her head to look at Locke who sat nearby. "Thank you for wiping out that entire group of people in one fell swoop."
Locke chuckled. "No need. They provoked me first."
To be precise, who told them to murder Carrie's friend? If they hadn't killed Anila Katz, Carrie wouldn't have discovered it. If Carrie hadn't discovered it, she wouldn't have come over, and he wouldn't have followed. Naturally, the local Dolan Church here wouldn't have encountered such an absolute catastrophe.
Therefore...
This entire ordeal was fundamentally the fault of the Dolan Church.
The Dolan Church in New Orleans was simply too impolite. What era was it anyway, still playing around with the whole burning-at-the-stake trial methodology? Look at the one over in New York—Locke hadn't ever heard any news regarding witch-burning trials happening over there.
The local church here was simply too primitive.
If the Dolan Church hadn't been so excessively barbaric, he would currently be spending quality time with Gwen.
Although the trajectory here was going well—giving rise to a massive bonus reward mission—the moment he thought about himself freezing in the cold wind here in New Orleans while Gwen was all by herself back in Long Island, Locke felt somewhat speechless.
"Achoo!"
"...God bless you."
"..."
Locke massaged his nose, blanking slightly. Just as he was wondering who exactly was harboring curiosity about him this time, he heard Cordelia's blessing and smiled slightly. "A witch who actually believes in God?"
To a witch, God was fundamentally a certified bad guy.
When ordinary people harbored immense hatred toward an adversary, they would typically say, *I'll send you to see Mephisto.*
Like Locke, for instance.
But to a witch, the ultimate expression of hatred was to say, *I'll send you to see God.* It didn't mean sending you to see God to receive His forgiveness; rather, it meant sending you to see God because He would use raging fires to incinerate your soul.
To the Salem witches, God was an entity practically identical to Mephisto. After all, the witch-hunting trials executed by the Holy See's Crusaders had claimed to be operating under the direct guidance of God.
Cordelia spoke with a gentle smile, "One cannot dwell in the past. If we do, we will never possess the means to embrace the future."
Locke shrugged, holding a different perspective regarding that sentiment. "I, on the other hand, believe that forgetting the past is tantamount to betraying oneself."
Frankly speaking, if he were to experience that era, and by some twist of fate, he possessed a household—a mother who loved him and a younger sister—and if they happened to be witches facing a ruthless onslaught from the Holy See?
Heh.
Locke would guarantee that he would give them a taste of their own medicine, returning the favor with interest.
Thinking about it this way.
Locke seemed to understand to a degree why so many Dark Witches had emerged in continuous succession after the Holy See initiated the witch trials, all attempting to bring about the destruction of the world.
One couldn't entirely blame them.
The Holy See had thrown the first punch.
Locke experienced a sudden epiphany, even developing a tiny shred of validation toward those Dark Witches who intended to destroy the world.
As Locke frequently noted.
He was highly adept at looking at things from another's perspective.
"By the way, when exactly is the Supreme Witch election taking place?"
"...The 31st."
"Good luck."
Cordelia opened her mouth, shaking her head. "I am merely a potion witch."
Her abilities relied almost entirely on brewing potions to cast spells.
Furthermore... Cordelia shook her head and added, "My potential doesn't even match up to my own students."
Locke laughed, fixing his gaze on Cordelia. "Do you genuinely think that?"
Low potential?
Inferior to her students?
Out of a total potential score value of ten, you exclusively occupy eight points. If that is considered low, then wouldn't Carrie's potential have to be classified as preschool-level?
Cordelia frowned slightly.
Locke spoke with a smile plastered across his face, "You don't believe in yourself, but you must believe in me. If I say you can become the new Supreme Witch, then you can."
If it weren't for the sake of the mission.
And if it weren't for the strict dimensional rules governing that boundary.
Why would Locke ever let Cordelia become the Supreme Witch? Wouldn't it be far better to let Carrie become the Supreme?
Hearing Locke's assertion, Cordelia wanted to offer a rebuttal.
However...
Locke had already shifted the topic, since this wasn't his primary objective for coming here.
"Are you free?"
"Hmm?"
Locke looked toward Cordelia with a smile. "I'm inviting you to watch a performance. Concurrently, you'll be witnessing a newcomer's debut."
Cordelia didn't entirely understand, yet she made no move to decline.
After all... Cordelia perceived absolutely no malice radiating from Locke.
"...Alright."
"I'll wait for you outside."
"..."
Cordelia opened her mouth. She had assumed Locke would exit through the same path he entered, but he directly headed toward the bedroom door instead. After a brief moment of hesitation, she saw that Locke had already pushed the door open.
"Hmm?"
Across the hallway, Zoe—who similarly possessed a head of smooth blonde hair—heard the commotion originating from Cordelia's room next door. Thinking about Madison who had yet to be found, she opened her door, intending to go over and inquire.
The moment Zoe opened her door, she spotted Locke, who had precisely opened his own door and was stepping out from the opposite room.
Locke naturally spotted Zoe as well.
Subsequently, he nodded and offered a gentle smile.
So this was the new-era witch rumored to possess an ability far more formidable than vagina dentata?
Locke had watched *Coven*.
But...
He had only watched the summary versions. After all, carrying a subconscious preference for traditional romance—such as monogamy and absolute fidelity—Locke found it difficult to stomach those excessively lustful and dramatic American TV shows.
However...
Where was Emma?
Looking at Zoe, Locke suddenly thought of Emma, who was supposed to be Zoe's roommate and possessed a far higher level of recognition than Zoe.
No.
It should be Madison.
Where was she?
Upon realizing that this was the world of *Coven*, the character Madison Montgomery—portrayed by Emma—was actually the very first witch Locke had found appealing.
In fact, Madison had originally been his backup option if Cordelia failed to fit the "Professor X" role.
However.
Locke was selecting a business partner, not a harem member. Furthermore, he had never entertained the thought of establishing a harem.
Zoe looked at Locke at the doorway with a hint of curiosity, before her gaze drifted to Cordelia, who was wearing a nightgown inside the room. She blanked slightly.
'The blind spot! I've discovered a clue!'
"You are..."
"Locke." Locke smiled and shook hands with Zoe, who was staring at him inquisitively. "Locke Broughton."
"Zoe, Zoe Benson!"
"Hello, Zoe. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Zoe shook hands with Locke, before inquiring curiously, "Locke, are you Cordelia's..."
"Friend." Locke pulled the door shut behind him to allow Cordelia the privacy to change her clothes, speaking with a smile, "Are you a newly enrolled witch this year?"
Zoe opened her mouth wide, staring at Locke. "You are also..."
Locke raised an eyebrow. "I am male, one hundred percent authentic. Not a witch. How could a man possibly be a witch!"
Damn it.
I should have been more prudent back then.
Locke recalled that instance in Augusta—his very first contact with a supernatural profession. He had been so thrilled to change classes that he simply discarded all caution.
He suspected that once he successfully redeemed the Sun God lineage in the future, the fact that he was once classified as a "witch" would stand as the absolute greatest blemish of his entire life.
Son of a bitch.
When I become the Sun God in the future, if anyone in the universe dares mention that I was once a witch, I'll directly subject them to the scorching rays of the sun, burning anyone who dares voice that sentence to a crisp.
Zoe blanked slightly, looking at the somewhat agitated Locke, entirely missing his train of thought.
"Then..."
"I merely possess a slightly greater amount of social experience."
"..."
As they spoke, Cordelia's bedroom door opened once more.
"I'm ready."
"Mm." Locke nodded, before offering a smile to Zoe. "Goodbye, Zoe. It was a pleasure meeting you."
Zoe blinked her eyes.
Right at that moment.
As he turned to head downstairs alongside Cordelia, Locke cast a glance toward the ceiling. Seeming to recall something, he turned around, walked right back up to Zoe, and leaned in to murmur a line directly into her ear.
Zoe's eyes progressively widened to their absolute limits.
Locke spoke with a smile, "Goodbye, Zoe."
Zoe: "..."
***
You can support me and read 40 Chapters early on P-atreon.com/Redestro666