Marvel: The Gamer

— Mr. Broughton, there are two officers downstairs. They say they're here to see you.

— Let them up.

— Right away.

Lock hung up the intercom. It was a call from the building's security post.

Just as he expected.

Earliest — last night. Latest — this morning.

He knew they'd show up.

---

In the elevator.

Kate glanced over at George Stacy beside her and couldn't help asking:

— George, what do you think of this Locke kid?

George paused for a moment, as if genuinely thinking about it, then replied:

— Gwen's classmate.

Kate knew Gwen, of course.

Scratch that — the entire NYPD knew Gwen. After all, she was George Stacy's daughter.

And more than that… she'd always stood out among her peers. From elementary to high school, her grades never dipped. Schools even offered her money to stay, just so she wouldn't transfer elsewhere. No exaggeration — if not for Gwen's scholarships, even someone with George's rank wouldn't have managed to support the family so comfortably. They had money for luxuries — and still had some left over.

— Sounds like Locke is just another spoiled rich kid, — Kate chuckled.

— Locke's an orphan.

— ...

An orphan?

Living in the Star Building?

Kate froze mid-step.

Ding!

— Officer Stacy.

Locke stood at the elevator doors, dressed casually, no sunglasses today — his handsome face fully on display. He smiled and reached out to shake George's hand.

— This is just a theft case. Why come in person?

George introduced Kate beside him, then said:

— It's not just about the robbery. May we come in?

— Of course. Come on in, — Locke said and led them inside.

Kate Beckett.

Detective from the TV show Castle.

Hmm.

He'd have to build a good relationship with her. Maybe not useful now — but definitely would be, later.

Locke invited them to sit on the couch, then offered politely:

— Can I get you a drink? Bourbon, perhaps?

Kate glanced at George.

George looked curiously at Locke.

— Where'd you get alcohol?

He wasn't twenty-one yet. So how the hell had he bought it?

Wait… if he had it, that meant… he drank?

Locke smiled faintly and brought over two glasses of water, setting them down.

Then sat across from them.

— Haha, I was joking. I can't even buy the stuff — let alone pour you a glass.

George glanced at the bar counter, and the empty fridge underneath. Looked like there really wasn't any alcohol around.

But...

His cop senses kicked in.

Under the bar — a trash can. Full of broken glass.

Either something had broken… or someone was covering their tracks.

Ha.

Exactly the kind of detail a seasoned officer would notice.

Locke cleared his throat and smoothly changed the subject:

— Mr. Stacy, you're not here just to check whether I've been drinking, right?

George studied him.

The boy had his flaws.

He lived alone. No guardian. It was easy to go astray in that kind of environment. His grades were solid, he seemed responsible… but yeah, he drank.

George remembered — just two nights ago, this same kid had shielded Gwen from flying debris with his own body.

Internally, he gave Locke some credit… and dropped the alcohol line of questioning.

— Where was the car stolen from?

— Underground garage.

— Last night I was planning to get some food. I looked up a few good places online and picked a pizza joint. But when I got downstairs—car was gone. Called the cops right away. You probably know — that car was just paid out by insurance. I didn't have time to change the plates.

— What time did this happen? — George asked firmly.

— Around nine, — Locke said, then his eyes lit up like he remembered something.

He pulled out his phone, tapped through a few screens, then handed it to George.

— After I called the police, I texted Gwen. At 9:25 PM.

George took the phone.

> Locke: Gwen, my car's gone again!

Gwen: ???

Locke: It got stolen! 😭

Gwen: What?! Where are you?!

Locke: I'm home. It was taken from the garage. But I already called the cops, don't worry.

The messages were, indeed, timestamped 21:25.

Meanwhile, the NYPD had been alerted to the car chase around 9:20.

— After that Gwen called me, and we talked a bit. She said she'd stop by today — but she had an interview at Oscorp Bio first.

George nodded and handed the phone back to Locke, exchanging glances with Kate as they considered the possibilities.

Most likely, Wesley and the unknown woman had been near Fifth Avenue, chasing the Sin Hunter.

And to escape, the Sin Hunter had stolen a car.

As it happened, Locke's car.

And even worse — they'd stolen it right before Locke went down to drive to the pizzeria.

They'd almost run into each other.

George took a breath, then said:

— You're actually lucky. If you'd come down a few minutes earlier, things might've ended badly.

— Yeah... I watched the chase live last night, — Locke said, clearly frustrated.

They had suspicions.

But they faded quickly.

After all...

Locke had been texting Gwen during the chase. And he was supposedly driving one of the cars involved.

With his upgraded driving skill, Locke could chase criminals while texting... or even talking on the phone. Meanwhile, the Audi R8's features made it impossible to prove who was behind the wheel at that moment.

— Did you get the footage from the garage cameras? — George asked Kate.

— There aren't any.

— What? Why not? — he frowned. This was supposed to be a high-end building.

— A few days ago, they started replacing the surveillance and security systems on the underground level. The work isn't finished yet. No recordings.

In truth...

Even if the cameras had been on — the system would've still gone down last night.

This was his fortress. His territory. He knew where every camera was and had no problem disabling them.

---

Ding-dong.

Locke excused himself and went to the door.

A call from the lobby.

— Mr. Broughton, you have a visitor. A girl—she says she's your classmate.

— Let her up, please.

— Of course, sir.

Lock hung up and turned to George, who was still seated on the couch.

— Looks like Gwen's here. She finished the interview that fast?

— The Oscorp Bio one? Gwen's been prepping for that since last year. Of course she breezed through the tests. She was probably already in Dr. Connors' lab by the time you called, — George chuckled.

Locke found that... fairly convincing.

Truthfully, Locke wasn't afraid of working hard to chase a god.

He was afraid that if Gwen was the god—he'd have to work a hundred times harder just to keep up.

Clearly, catching up to a goddess like her was no longer a reachable goal for someone like him.

No—not just for someone like him.

Even for most people.

Luckily...

He had cheats.