The Extraordinary Life of a Certain American Comic...

The sudden shutdown of the Vampire Mansion in broad daylight naturally attracted the attention of reporters in New York City, which had been in a state of near chaos these past few days.

Vampires have appeared in New York City.

No matter how you look at it, this is enough news material for these journalists to write about for a month straight without ever feeling it's outdated.

Considering that these journalists write about Tony Stark's past when they have no news, it's quite normal for them to do so.

So, half an hour after the Vampire Tower closed its shutters, reporters from New York City had already arrived at the scene.

Faced with the news that this locked building was suspected to be the hideout of New York City's vampires, many reporters were trembling.

Don't misunderstand.

They weren't trembling with fear, but with excitement.

Some reporters, obsessed with the news, even walked around the Vampire Mansion, trying to find a way to get to it.

After the emergence of a journalist who believed that "no journalist is complete without madness," even more journalists appeared.

By the time the New York Police Department arrived at the scene, the reporters had almost completely surrounded the Vampire Building.

Locke, who was in the Sentinel Operations Command Center, rested his chin on one hand while watching the live feed on the big screen.

Debbie, standing to the side, frowned as she watched the media reporters on the big screen who were being chased away by the NYPD but couldn't be driven away.

"Boss, should we send someone to drive these reporters away?"

"Drive them away?"

"Why drive them away?"

Locke lowered his right hand and chuckled, "Put aside your desire to help others and respect their fate."

Debbie blinked.

"What does this mean, boss?"

"People who court death are not worth saving."

Locke smiled, stood up from his chair, put his hands in his pockets, walked to the big screen, looked at the reporter on the screen who was trying to play hide-and-seek with the police officers around the building under the persuasion of the New York Police Department, and then checked the time on his watch.

"How much time has passed since the satellite signal became erratic?"

"It's been 138 minutes."

Debbie checked the time.

More than two hours have passed since the footage became cluttered.

Locke nodded, then stretched and prepared to walk outside: "I'm going to my office to rest for a while. I'll talk to you if there's any noise..."

Before the words were finished...

A sentry responsible for searching for information online suddenly perked up and turned to look at Locke, who was about to leave.

"Sir, CNN News has released a video on its website that you should watch."

"..."

Locke stopped and looked at the sentry who had spoken.

The sentry then projected the video that had just been released on CNN's website onto the big screen.

The video was played immediately.

moment.

Screams erupted.

"what!"

Accompanied by screams, the video showed a man whose face was contorted and who was almost as thin as a stick, along with a dark-skinned dancer with bloodshot eyes who was grabbing the man's neck and sucking on it.

"hiss."

"Thick and greasy shit."

"They really went in."

Amid gasps and gasps of surprise from the command center, everyone immediately turned their attention to Locke, who had his hands in his pockets.

Locke squinted, watching the man who had been sucked into a stick-like shape at the end of the video, and the last fleeting glimpse of Blade clutching his shoulder.

More than two hours.

Tsk.

Is it really that bad?

but……

The wound on Blade's shoulder just now looked like an arrow wound.

Did Hawkeye do it?

But I didn't see Hawkeye either.

Wait a moment.

Could that man who just turned into a skinny stick from smoking be Hawkeye, a Skrull in disguise?

Since the Skrulls are dead, shouldn't they revert to their normal Skrull form?

Locke was brainstorming.

Debbie looked at Locke, who was standing there silently, and gently reminded him.

"Boss."

"……Um."

Locke shook his head and took a deep breath: "Let's confirm the video with CNN..."

He hadn't finished speaking.

Jingle Bell!

Locke took out his phone from his pocket, looked at the number on it, and raised an eyebrow.

He was very familiar with that number.

If he remembered correctly, this number was Dickon's cell phone number.

how.

A cross-border call from Deacon from the other side of hell?

Locke held the phone to his ear and tapped to answer.

"I am Locke Underwood."

"You saw the video I sent out, right? Sorry, the people you sent are all dead."

"Quinn".

Locke listened to the voice on the phone and said with a bright smile, "Sorry to disappoint you, it wasn't my men who went in. My men haven't gone in yet."

After hearing her husband mention the name Quen, Debbie ran to the control panel to locate Locke's incoming call signal.

Quinn's tone remained unchanged on the phone.

"Then you'd better hurry, after all, the blade is already in my hands."

"Really? Congratulations."

"No, I should be thanking you."

Quinn smiled and said, "If you hadn't let me go back then, I wouldn't be where I am today. I owe everything I have to you, Agent Locke Underwood of the Sentinel Service."

Locke didn't speak, but looked in the direction a sentry was pointing.

into the eye.

CNN News, which has already started broadcasting live, is currently showing his conversation with Quinn.

There's also a very distinctive and eye-catching title.

Exclusive scoop: New York vampires and the Secret Service!

"..."

Good guy.

Locke inwardly exclaimed "Good heavens!" but calmly nodded to the sentries who were looking at him, then said in a completely emotionless tone, "Are you referring to the fact that when your master, Dickon Frost, was besieged by us, you abandoned him and fled, and I didn't send anyone to pursue you?"

Facts must be supported by evidence.

Facts without evidence are merely the truth, not facts.

mock up.

If you see something as low, then you see it as low.

What gives you the courage and illusion that you can extract information from an elite law enforcement officer with just one phone call?

Locke almost laughed, but his expression remained unchanged.

Upon hearing Locke's words, Quinn, who was in the sacrificial hall, narrowed his eyes.

"Escape, if you hadn't broken your promise, when Dickon asked you to negotiate..."

"Federal law enforcement agencies never negotiate with any criminals."

Locke interrupted him directly with an air of righteous indignation: "Quinn, what do you want from this call? Just say it."

Quinn gave a cold laugh.

"hehe."

"...Smack!"

Locke hung up the phone without saying a word.

The sentries standing nearby stared wide-eyed as Locke decisively hung up the phone.

Debbie, on the other hand, spun around in her chair.

"Location detected."

"Boss."

"The signal originates about 30 meters underground in the Vampire Building."

"..."