"Oh!"
With a sharp exclamation, Emily swung her hand and smacked Dam hard across his broad back. Her eyes immediately dropped to the floor, where a pool of dark red liquid spread across the smooth surface, its rich aroma filling the air. The scent alone was enough to make her heart ache.
"H-Hey… hehe…"
Dam hunched his shoulders instinctively, his head lowered as he shot her a pleading look. In his hand, he still clutched the broken neck of the wine bottle, the jagged edge glinting faintly under the bar lights. Just moments ago, he had been trying to show off, striking what he thought was a cool martial arts pose, only to accidentally knock over the very bottle Emily's father had treasured for years.
He had meant to help her with deliveries, but instead, he had shattered the most valuable thing in the bar.
Emily's glare burned into him before her attention returned to the spreading wine on the floor. The deep red liquid looked almost like blood, its mellow fragrance lingering heavily in the air, making the loss feel even more painful.
"I told you I could handle things myself," she snapped, her voice tight with frustration. "Look what you've done now!"
"Emily, I messed up, okay? I'm sorry!"
Dam's voice was full of exaggerated remorse as he fidgeted nervously. Even while apologizing, he kept sneaking glances toward Locke, who was sitting by the window, seemingly absorbed in his phone. Seeing no reaction from him, Dam quietly let out a breath of relief.
Without wasting another second, he rushed toward the bathroom, grabbed a mop, and hurried back. Under Emily's distressed gaze, he began wiping the wine off the floor, his movements clumsy but earnest as he tried to clean up the mess he had made.
Emily, still visibly upset, turned to reorganize the shelves, her hands moving with sharp, irritated motions. Meanwhile, Dam glanced over his shoulder repeatedly before finally abandoning his task and slipping over to Locke's side.
"Hey," he whispered, leaning in with curiosity, "you're actually watching Batman stuff?"
The sharp focus in Locke's eyes faded instantly, replaced by a faint smile as he tilted his head slightly.
"And why wouldn't I be watching Batman?" he replied casually.
"You're the one… you know, the one!" Dam gestured wildly, his face lighting up as he struggled to articulate his point, his excitement barely contained.
Locke shook his head with quiet amusement, choosing not to indulge him further. Just moments ago, he had been watching a leaked clip of Batman fighting a metahuman who had come from Star City. The footage had been uploaded anonymously, and Locke had downloaded it through less-than-legal channels.
The raw intensity of the fight still lingered in his mind. Every punch Batman threw carried real weight, every movement precise and efficient. This wasn't the cinematic version people were used to—it was something far more dangerous, far more real.
That realization stirred something in him.
Locke had relaxed slightly over the past few weeks, but after watching that footage, a strong sense of urgency crept back in. The Batman in that video had still been in his early years, yet his combat ability was already terrifying. Compared to his current self, whose strength was regularly hinted at in news reports, the gap was obvious.
Relying solely on gadgets and technique would never be enough to stand at the center of something like the Justice League.
The enemies that existed in this world weren't normal. They grew stronger with every encounter, beings capable of tearing through concrete and crushing steel. Against that kind of power, an ordinary human wouldn't stand a chance—they'd be dead the moment they were touched.
Locke's gaze flickered slightly as he closed the video.
He looked across the table at Dam, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he studied him.
"Dam," he said calmly, "since you already know, I need a favor."
Instead of being surprised, Dam's expression lit up instantly. Excitement flared in his eyes, almost fanatical, as if he had been waiting for this moment. He quickly reached into his jacket, pulling out a card and tucking it into the pocket over his chest. The faint red lettering on it caught Locke's attention, and a subtle smile formed on his lips.
"Come on, man," Dam said, puffing out his chest proudly, the motion making his entire body jiggle. "With our friendship, just say the word."
"Detective George is close to you, right?" Locke asked. "Help me keep track of recent criminal activity. The more detailed, the better."
"Haha! Now that sounds like you!" Dam laughed, giving a double thumbs-up with an exaggerated grin. He looked absurdly enthusiastic, as if he had just been given the mission of a lifetime.
After sending the overly eager man away, Locke leaned back slightly, watching as Dam immediately bounced over to Emily again, trying to win back her favor. He couldn't help but shake his head.
In a city like Gotham, where danger lurked around every corner, someone like Dam surviving this long was practically a miracle.
Over the past month, Locke had personally dealt with more than a dozen incidents, eliminating over seventy criminals. His relentless actions had forced many of the remaining criminals in the East District into hiding, while others had fled to different parts of the city altogether.
Ironically, that had slowed his progress.
Originally, he had expected it would take another month or two to gather enough dimensional energy for his next step. But after the incident at the East District Police Station, his energy reserves had surged unexpectedly.
Through that, he had uncovered a crucial pattern.
The strength of the criminals he judged directly affected the amount of dimensional energy he gained. The stronger the target, the greater the reward.
The moment he killed the man with the golden monkey mask, he had felt it clearly—one of his dimensions had reached the threshold for unlocking. That was why he hadn't bothered chasing down the remaining criminals at the time.
With a single thought, a faint dimensional interface appeared before him.
The cover waiting to be unlocked displayed a familiar name.
Blade.
The moment it appeared, the entire storyline resurfaced in his mind. It was a world where vampires and humans coexisted in the shadows, a setting rooted in the late nineteenth century. At its center stood the Daywalker—a man born from a mother who had been bitten during pregnancy, granting him the strengths of a vampire without any of their weaknesses.
He feared neither sunlight nor silver.
Raised by a vampire hunter, he had grown into a weapon fueled by hatred, dedicating his life to hunting down his own kind.
Locke's brows furrowed slightly as he reviewed the details. Most of the vampires in that world weren't particularly powerful, which made the potential gains seem limited.
His gaze shifted, and the Blade interface faded slightly. In its place, another familiar option surfaced—the blood clan.
However, after sensing it carefully, he could only let out a quiet sigh. The energy required to enter that world was still far beyond what he currently possessed.
Left with no better option, he turned his attention back to Blade.
"Maybe there's something worth taking after all," he murmured under his breath.
Fragments of violent imagery from the series flashed through his mind—sharp blades, crimson blood, relentless combat.
The hesitation in his eyes vanished.
His choice was made.
Locke stood up slowly, his gaze sweeping across Dam and Emily. Both of them were frozen in place, their movements completely halted as if time itself had stopped around them.
At least this way, he wouldn't have to worry about returning to find them gone.
A faint calm settled over him.
In the next moment, his expression turned serious as he stepped forward, directly into the swirling darkness that had formed before him. The space warped, collapsing inward like a black hole, swallowing him completely.
A brief sense of disorientation passed over him.
Then—
A gust of hot wind filled with yellow sand rushed toward his face. Locke instinctively raised his arm to shield himself, his eyes narrowing as he took in the unfamiliar landscape stretching out before him.
"Locke, keep up!"
A low voice called out from ahead.
He blinked in surprise, his attention snapping toward the three figures walking in front of him. They had already turned back, looking at him expectantly.
Beyond them, rising from the endless sea of sand, stood a massive pyramid.
Locke's memories spun rapidly, pieces falling into place as realization dawned in his eyes.
This… wasn't the storyline of the first Blade.
....
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