3: An incompetent husband and a diligent me

Although Locke didn't know why Michael agreed so readily, it wasn't important.

What mattered was that his plan could proceed smoothly.

As long as he obtained Michael's blood next, and then acquired Lucien and Serena's blood as planned,

he would gain the powerful cheat from the Underworld—the Hybrid.

This would be a great asset for him to complete the challenge mission and deal with the mastermind behind the scenes.

Only the living are qualified to talk about tomorrow.

After reaching an agreement with Michael, without a moment's delay,

Locke immediately used the newly acquired Jackals Disguise Technique to apply makeup for the two of them.

In just a few hours, he disguised Michael as a curly-haired Texan with the characteristics of a Southern redneck.

From appearance alone, it was completely impossible to recognize his original self.

Even the person most familiar with Michael probably wouldn't recognize him now.

Locke wasn't sure if non-human creatures like werewolves could discern it, but as long as they didn't recognize him immediately, it wouldn't affect his plan.

As for himself, he transformed to look exactly like Michael did when he visited, whether in hairstyle or clothing.

Even Michael himself, standing nearby, gaped in astonishment, utterly shocked by this near-cosmetic-surgery-level makeup skill.

"This..."

Immediately after, an even more shocking scene unfolded.

With a wave of Locke's hand, a corpse appeared on the floor of the room as if by magic.

Locke—no, now he was 'Dr. Michael Corvin'—

looked at the lifelike 'corpse of himself' on the floor and couldn't help but marvel at the magical power of the system-provided item.

The Substitute Doll perfectly recreated the scene of Locke Galahad's death as he envisioned it in his mind,

with the bloody wound on the neck realistic enough to pass for the real thing.

"Is this the fake corpse you mentioned, Mr. Locke?"

Michael stepped forward, carefully examining the corpse, his pupils dilating, his tone growing somewhat excited:

"Oh my god, it's exactly like you lying there just now, no different from the real thing."

"Please call me Michael, Mr. Rune."

Locke had already slipped into his impersonation role, and even casually gave Michael a name that sounded like a Southerner's.

"Rune? Is this the name of your distant cousin, Mr. Locke?"

"Yes, but until I finish handling your request, this will be your name. When spreading the news of my death later, you must not slip up."

Locke patted Michael on the shoulder, earnestly admonishing him, "If we fail, it might affect the plan to send your wife and daughter to heaven."

After all, this concerned whether his plan could proceed normally,

so even if it meant threatening him with his deceased wife's affairs, he was willing to do it.

I hope their spirits can understand me.

Locke still didn't know who the mastermind behind his predecessor's death was.

If he were exposed too early,

even with the system, he wasn't very confident he could survive in the hands of such a bizarre existence.

So every step he took now had to be extremely cautious.

Until he uncovered the truth of his death or possessed enough strength to face the enemy without fear, he had to be very careful.

This was the American Horror Story World, no longer the ordinary world it once was.

The mastermind could be any creature or supernatural being—demon, evil god, devil, witch, heretic...

In short, it definitely wouldn't be human.

"I understand."

When Michael heard him mention his wife and daughter, he immediately recognized the importance of the matter, his eyes turning resolute.

"Locke, oh no, Dr. Michael, from now on, I'll do whatever you say."

"You don't need to do much. Just remember what I'm about to tell you."

Locke lowered his voice and said to the real Michael:

"You are Locke Galahad's cousin from the South. You rushed here overnight upon hearing the tragic news of his suicide to handle his affairs."

"You are grief-stricken, unwilling to say much, and just want to bury your cousin as soon as possible. No matter who asks about the cause of death, including the police and priests, answer this way."

Michael nodded vigorously, repeating the words Locke had just said under his breath.

"I've memorized it all, Dr. Michael. Then I'll entrust my wife and daughter's spirits to you."

"Don't worry, I'll give you a satisfactory outcome. Just focus on playing your role and wait for my message."

Thus, the plan to fake his death and enter the Underworld was basically complete. All that remained was to spread the news of Locke's death.

Afterward, Locke began organizing the items he would need for the upcoming plan.

Other equipment could be omitted, but the revolver was indispensable.

However, for easy access in case of emergencies, he chose to tuck the revolver into the holster under his arm, which was both convenient for concealment and easy to draw.

Outside the exorcism shop, the night gradually faded, sunlight breaking through the darkness, bringing a sliver of dawn.

Locke called out to Michael, and the two found a white cloth and a simple stretcher, carrying the fake corpse outside.

Just as the door opened and they were about to place the corpse into the vehicle,

Locke keenly caught sight of a pair of glowing green eyes in the rearview mirror, watching him from the street corner.

No need to guess—it was definitely a werewolf sent to keep an eye on Michael.

But the other party certainly never expected that the Michael before his eyes was now a completely different person.

The moment he saw the other party, an idea formed in Locke's mind.

Without the slightest hesitation, his right hand immediately drew the revolver from under his arm, swiftly turned, and fired two shots toward the werewolf at the end of the street.

His reaction speed was comparable to that of an Olympic champion from his previous life.

Thanks to his Lv4 Expert-level revolver marksmanship,

it took him less than a second from drawing the gun, aiming, to firing at the target—almost instantaneous.

Only the two loud "bang bang" gunshots were heard.

Even a supernatural creature like a werewolf, renowned for its agility, couldn't react in time and could only stare wide-eyed.

The black bullets, accompanied by gunfire, flew across the street,

finally hitting the werewolf's shoulder, covered in black fur, with perfect accuracy, making two "thud" sounds.

Immediately after, two blossoms of blood bloomed.

"Awooo—"

Almost simultaneously, a piercing wolf howl echoed throughout Iron Cross Street.

Seeing that he had been discovered, the werewolf Kruto didn't dare to stay any longer and quickly vanished into the darkness.

His eyes flickered uncertainly, somewhat disbelieving of what had just happened:

"Fu*k, damn it, a human couldn't possibly have such marksmanship."

Being discovered was one thing, but actually getting shot—this was what Kruto found most unacceptable. It was simply a disgrace.

As for why he didn't counterattack, it certainly wasn't because he thought he couldn't win.

Rather, he wanted to quickly report to the leader Lucien that the target was now aware, leaving the decision to him.

"Bastard, just wait. Later, I'll definitely ask the leader to let me avenge these two shots."

Glaring fiercely back at Locke, Kruto quickened his pace as he left.

Meanwhile, Michael, who was following behind Locke, hadn't yet snapped out of it. He hadn't even seen the werewolf's figure before the entire encounter was over.

"What happened? What's going on? Why did you suddenly fire?"

"Nothing much. Just a stray wolf blocking the street. I gave it two shots, and now it's run off with its tail between its legs."

Locke curled the corner of his mouth, his expression calm.

He didn't reveal anything about the werewolf, instead reasonably describing it as a wolf.

However, the two gunshots and the wolf howl caused everyone in the entire block to rush out, guns in hand.

This was exactly the sensational effect Locke wanted from the commotion.

Shooting the werewolf would startle the snake, prompting Lucien to act early while also drawing the attention of the neighborhood residents.

Even if the werewolf hadn't been there, he would have deliberately fired blank shots to wake people up.

After all, the news of Locke Galahad's death

needed to reach the ears of the mastermind through these people's mouths, to lessen their vigilance and make them firmly believe in his death.

Only then could he survive and develop.

The neighbors of Iron Cross Street immediately noticed Locke holding the revolver when they came out.

They then surrounded him and Michael, chattering and asking about what had happened.

"Dr. Michael, what happened? Did those Mexican gang bastards come to cause trouble?"

"Tch, those damn Mexican illegal immigrants should go back to Mexico and grow peppers!"

The crowd was furious,

not even considering the possibility of werewolves, instead thinking it was the Mexican gang scum from the slums coming to stir up trouble again.

Locke was quite pleased with this reaction.

Facing the crowd, he lowered his gaze, his expression sorrowful:

"Neither.

It's that Mr. Locke Galahad from the exorcism shop has died, so I fired two shots into the sky with his beloved revolver to see off his soul."

"You mean... Locke... is dead?"

The speaker was Dylan Newman, the coffin shop owner across from Locke's exorcism shop.

He widened his eyes, first in disbelief, but when he saw the corpse covered with a white cloth, his confusion instantly turned to joy.

"This is truly a joyous occasion. Our family will provide his coffin for free."

Locke naturally noticed his unusual behavior immediately.

Not just him—

he observed the first reactions of everyone present upon hearing the news of the death.

This was also one of his goals: to see if he could find any clues leading to the real culprit behind Locke's death.

It seemed now that Dylan Newman was highly suspicious.

But when he saw the beautiful wife following behind him, many exorcism-related memories involving her suddenly surfaced in his mind.

This immediately cleared the suspicion in his eyes.

And it wasn't just Dylan Newman's wife—

most of the neighbors' young and beautiful wives appeared deeply sorrowful upon hearing the news.

As if they were the ones who had lost a family member.

This scene made Locke understand many things instantly.

"Now I can finally explain why I, an exorcist, have an Lv4 Mating skill."

Originally, he thought he was a fake exorcist, but it turned out he had real skills.

It's just that his method of exorcism wasn't very conventional—using physical offerings to purify the soul.

No wonder Dylan Newman was so happy about his death. It was the story of an incompetent husband and a diligent neighbor.

"Since it's my fault, I'll forgive you then."