Castle sat in front of the drone control panel, watching the live feed from the drone hovering over the salvage ship more than three thousand meters above. Mozzie, still relaxed, commented, "Last night, they sent divers to precisely locate the submarine. Now, their lifting equipment seems to be ready. I'd say it won't take more than three days for Vincent's men to bring up that submarine. Vincent's preparations are impressive."
As Castle listened to Mozzie's explanation, he reviewed the surveillance footage from the past two days. Indeed, as Mozzie mentioned, after the semi-submersible salvage ship stopped, Vincent's men efficiently completed all the preliminary work to salvage the submarine. Under the cover of darkness, Mozzie and the chubby kid had even maneuvered the drone closer to the salvage ship. Using the drone's laser eavesdropping device, they overheard Vincent and his men confirming the exact location of the WWII German submarine submerged off New York's coast.
Everything was ready—the buoys and steel cables for lifting the submarine were in place. Barring any sudden weather changes, the submarine would likely be brought aboard the semi-submersible salvage ship and quietly transported back to a rented warehouse at the New York harbor within days.
While Castle and Mozzie were casually chatting at Gianna's estate, Beckett took on a peculiar case.
The crime scene was atop the Metropolitan Building, the busiest area within the 12th Precinct. What was odd wasn't just the location, but that there were two crime scenes. One was on the rooftop of the Metropolitan Building where Beckett stood, and the other was in an office building across the street. According to Lanie, who was examining the body over there, a single shot to the head killed an Indian woman. On Beckett's side, there were five bodies: four men dressed in work clothes, armed with various automatic weapons, all shot in the head. The fifth body was even stranger—a man in a suit with a slicked-back hairdo, holding a vintage flintlock pistol in his left hand and an M9 handgun in his right. It was apparent that he had killed the four armed men before being taken down himself. His body lay on a black spray-painted cross on the ground.
The most unbelievable part, according to multiple eyewitnesses, was that this suited man was originally in the office building across the street where the Indian woman was killed. Witnesses claimed he jumped over thirty meters across the street, like a super-powered flea, and landed on the Metropolitan Building's rooftop, where he swiftly killed the four armed men before being shot in the head by an unknown assailant.
"Boss, I think you should get Castle here. With all he's seen, he might have some clues," Esposito suggested sincerely to the perplexed Beckett.
Thus, Castle, who was happily chatting with Mozzie, received an urgent call from Beckett. As Beckett described the scene, Castle already had an inkling of what had happened, though he found it hard to believe. However, this wasn't the time to dwell on that. He repeatedly told Beckett over the phone not to disturb the crime scene until he arrived. Castle then hurriedly stood up, bid Mozzie a hasty farewell, and dashed out of the building.
"Isn't this just like *Wanted*? The Brotherhood of Assassins? Curved bullets? Bullet time and a guy jumping across buildings to kill would-be assassins, only to be shot by Cross, the world's best sniper? This is the opening of *Wanted*! No supernatural powers, my foot! How is there now an assassin organization with curved bullets?" Castle fumed as he hurriedly explained the situation to John and Gianna before driving off.
When he questioned his system, it answered matter-of-factly: "Host, this world indeed has no supernatural powers. The Brotherhood's curved bullets and bullet time techniques are simply part of their legacy and can be mastered through learning and practice."
"So, curved bullets can be learned? This is just limiting these overpowered assassins' abilities to keep the world grounded in realism. But what about Cross and his triple-boosted jet bullet using a telescope?" Castle wondered, receiving a clarification from the system: "Cross's techniques are based on technology and can be explained scientifically. Host need not worry."
"Bullshit! That's Cross, who can kill me from eight hundred kilometers away! And now Beckett is involved in this case. What if Cross decides to shoot Beckett?" Castle cursed the system.
"Please handle this matter using your knowledge and skills," the system replied before going silent again.
Castle knew he had to rely on himself. Still, encountering the Brotherhood of Assassins, a group worshiping a loom, seemed absurd. How could anyone believe a weaving machine determined who deserved to die in this age of smartphones? Were all the Brotherhood's recruits gullible?
Despite the bizarre nature of this organization, Castle didn't want to provoke them. Cross had set up this scenario to kill X because he had defected from the Brotherhood, guarding his son Wesley in a shabby building near the Brooklyn light rail. Cross spent his days spying on his son and his girlfriend, and then watching as she and Wesley's friend Py got together, a real-life soap opera.
Castle decided to rush to the Metropolitan Building and explain the dangers to Beckett. This was merely internal strife within a deranged assassin organization, not worth risking the lives of NYPD officers. They should focus on the investigation against Senator William Bracken instead.
Castle confirmed that the Brotherhood didn't target ordinary people and wasn't drawn to the famous assassin Fox. His system was turning him into a celibate hero anyway, and the Brotherhood's magical healing concoction didn't impress him either. Castle decided to play it safe. With so much on his plate, he had no time or inclination to engage with a lunatic cult worshipping a loom.
Castle sped towards the Metropolitan Building, intending to explain the situation to Beckett. She needed to understand that this case was a deadly internal conflict within a group of killers, not worth NYPD's involvement. The best course of action was to avoid the Brotherhood and focus on bringing down Senator Bracken.
Assassins were doomed to die by the sword. Letting the lunatic killers wipe each other out was a far better use of resources.
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