A Certain Marvel Super Player

What the hell?

Was it me again?

How come I don’t know?

If it comes to the murder last night, Locke may have lost his memory and not remember it, but tonight, damn, he has a 100% sufficient alibi.

The thought changed.

The next second.

Locke's anger suddenly surged.

If he was just an ordinary killer, then maybe he was actually impersonated by this guy. After all, ordinary killers don't have those special notices and those bullets that disappear automatically.

Kill innocent people first, then police officers?

This is no longer a simple impersonation incident.

This is like carrying a lantern to the latrine.

Locke was still sighing outside the door just now. However, after entering the door, he suddenly discovered that he was the one who caused all this tragedy?

Well……

Fake yourself.

Tauris was slightly startled. Her husband used to be George's partner. Naturally, he had heard of this notice. Her eyes almost widened: "How is this possible? Who is Jeff? You know George better than I do. He How could he receive a notice? Don’t the Wushuang Assassins only kill guilty people? How could Jeff receive a notice?"

"Of course I know what Jeff is like," George said.

Taurisi's expression was extremely painful: "Then why..."

Look at the furniture and furnishings in their room. Some of the furniture was even given to them by others at Tao Ruisi's wedding. They have been repaired and repaired. Basically, they have not been replaced.

Locke and Gwen sat aside, taking charge, looking after Tauris and Jeff's three children, the oldest of whom was less than ten years old.

Two daughters and one son.

Gwen didn't look back and sighed as she listened to the crying coming from the living room behind her.

Locke looked at Gwen.

Gwen shook her head: "Tauris is a full-time wife, and their youngest daughter Mandy also has chronic diseases and needs to take medicine regularly."

Locke understood.

In fact, the ability of most families in the Federation to withstand risks is very low. Unlike the East Kingdom, where most families have no income for half a year or a year, the hardship will be over.

But in the federation, no income basically means one thing.

They've started the timer on becoming homeless.

What?

Does the NYPD have a pension?

Stop it.

George's current annual salary is only 70,000 to 80,000 yuan. How much pension can be given to the families of the injured and injured police officers?

This is why Locke feels that Spider-Man is not worthy of the title of hero.

A true hero always sacrifices himself for the safety of thousands of people.

Iron Man can be said to be a hero because of that finger snap.

Steve is a hero.

But what about Spider-Man?

Every time Little Spider grows up, he is accompanied by the death of someone else's family. Is he worthy of the title of superhero?

at the moment?

Locke always felt like his nameless fire was surging.

Someone used his name to kill a police officer, which made Locke suddenly feel an inexplicable feeling.

Farke!

after awhile.

Locke and others left because someone from the funeral department from the police station might come later.

Out the door.

As the four people walked towards the parking lot, Helen and George, who were walking in front, said, "They should organize donations."

George nodded.

There's no way around it. It's well known that the New York Police Department's pension is very low. Because of this, basically, if a colleague is unfortunately killed, they will organize donations.

Although the money is not a lot, at least it will not cause people to end up living on the street the next year because they cannot pay the real estate tax.

Moreover, colleagues from the New York Police Department will take special care of him. Basically, tickets and violations are completely impossible. Some good colleagues will often come to the door to provide as much help as they can based on their feelings.

After all, any police officer will have such a day. Helping others is actually helping himself to a certain extent.

That's why Ms. Casey was able to enlist the support of NYPD officers.

Because Ms. Casey promised to significantly improve the salary of New York Police Department officers, and after being successfully elected, she did the same. Although it was still very small, at least there was an improvement.

Helen hummed: "Let's find a nanny tomorrow and the day after tomorrow. I'll bring Gwen to Jeff's house to help."

Gwen, who was walking behind Locke, said, "Bring little George too. Little George and Mary are playing well. Little George can comfort and take care of Mary tomorrow."

Mary is the ten-year-old little girl in Jeff's family who has been sitting there silently and seems to be quite quiet.

Helen nodded: "That's a good idea."

In the parking lot, Locke and the Gwen family separated and drove back to the Star Building.

Go inside.

Locke took off his suit and windbreaker, took the bourbon and a cup from the bar, and walked directly to the study on the second floor.

Pour the wine.

Power on.

Drink it all in one gulp.

Done in one go.

Locke looked at the computer interface that was opened, and directly used some advanced hacking techniques to hack into the backend of the full surveillance system with nearly 7,000 cameras all over New York, and retrieved the secret visit period, that small alley in the Lower East Side. Surveillance nearby.

but……

There is no surveillance in that alley, and the surveillance cameras that can be photographed in that alley nearby are either broken, or simply the chewing gum stuck to it has dried and has not been removed.

There are nearly 7,000 cameras in the city. After careful calculation, there are nearly 5,000 cameras that can operate normally and take pictures. There are more than 2,000 cameras that have been waiting to be replaced or maintained due to funding and manpower reasons. .

He is a master.

After a round of inquiries to no avail, Locke took his hands off the keyboard, stared at the half-remaining gleaming bourbon on his desk, and sneered.

Pity.

Who are you pretending to be, but you want to pretend to be me?

No living person knows who you are.

Don't the dead know who you are?

Locke stood up, drank the remaining bourbon in the cup, took out his sunglasses from his arms, put them on, stepped out, leaving a clone who stayed at home to disguise himself, and then went straight downstairs. Walk towards the door.

Ordinary people cannot make the dead speak.

But Locke is no ordinary person.

His motto is that if the game cannot be cheated, then the game will be meaningless.

Who the hell is trying to reason with you?

I want to see how brave you are to impersonate me!

NYPD.

Morgue.

Locke relied on the hiding technique that he got from Callum Lynch, who looked exactly like Magneto. It was the first time today that Locke used the hiding technique. He made it all the way smoothly, and was stunned by the police officers who were working overtime all night to look for any clues. Under the bed, he quietly arrived at the forensic office on the second underground floor.

"Um?"

The judge, who had just received the news and returned to his office to prepare for an overnight autopsy and test, changed his clothes, turned around, looked at the door that suddenly seemed to be pushed open and then swayed, frowned, and said loudly: "Who is outside. "

Locke stood behind the medical examiner and said, "Hi."

The forensic doctor was startled, turned around, and then, with a thud, his head was knocked directly, and then, with a gorgeous thud, he fell to the ground.

The moment the forensic doctor landed, the folder in his hand had been firmly caught by Locke with his leather-gloved right hand.

quite a while.

Locke dragged the forensic doctor to his office chair and sat down, posed in a posture, and poured a bottle of coma potion into the forensic doctor to ensure that he could sleep for a night, and then turned and entered the laboratory with three dissecting tables. Went inside.

Enter the eyes.

The three anatomy tables are already full.

The assistant who had just pushed the couple out of the freezer and was standing in the corner was finishing the phone call with his girlfriend to explain that he couldn't go back tonight. After putting away the phone, he looked at the assistant wearing sunglasses who walked in swaggeringly. Locke was stunned for a moment: "Hey, who are you? This is France...Gah!"

The assistant's words stopped abruptly.

Nothing else.

Because a pistol with a golden texture was pressed against his head.

"Gudong!"

The assistant swallowed thickly, sweating violently, and raised his hands in the air: "I'm French... Boom!"

Locke frowned as he looked at the assistant who was knocked unconscious and fell to the ground.

Is he of French descent?

What does it mean?

Could it be said that French people have any privileges that can prevent them from dying?

Locke thought for a while, but couldn't think of a reason. He came to his senses and walked directly towards the middle one of the three dissecting tables.

Lift the white cloth.

Enter the eyes.

Shot and stabbed again, Detective Jeff Martin, who looked like he could be described as dead, lay quietly on the autopsy table.

good.

Locke breathed a sigh of relief.

Detective Jeff Martin's appearance is a bit miserable, but at least all his limbs are intact, no arms or legs are missing, and his head is intact. Apart from some bruises and swelling, there is nothing special about him.

"good."

While nodding in affirmation, Locke waved his right hand and took out the life potion, which is said to be able to bring back the soul even if the soul is in Mephisto's hands, as long as the body is healthy and the soul is not eaten by Mephisto as a snack. He looked at Jeff Martin on the autopsy table: "If you were miserable, or if I were late, you would have been dissected, and even this bottle of potion probably wouldn't be able to save you."

They were all cut into pieces by forensic doctors, and their internal organs were taken out and weighed one by one.

How to save it?

Let's not talk about it. Even if it can be saved, how can we explain it after the rescue?

Now that it has not been dissected, the doctor can still describe it as having tenacious vitality. If after being dissected, even if it can be resurrected, how can it be explained that it has returned from hell as a zombie?

Locke couldn't help but smile, took out the life potion, opened Jeff Martin's mouth, and then poured the life potion in his hand into Jeff's mouth like a goose.

…