Thump... Thump...
"Locke? Are you awake yet? Marian told me to bring you down for breakfast..."
"Uh, one second..."
Locke was already up. He sat on the edge of the bed in a daze—a morning ritual he'd repeated every day since waking up in this life. Hearing the crisp voice outside the door, his muscles tensed instinctively.
After a brief hesitation, he added, "Thank you, Hanna."
"..."
Silence met his words. Then, the sound of light footsteps hurried away, accompanied by the faint, muffled grumble of a teenage girl.
"He actually said thank you? That's creepy..."
Locke flashed a bitter smile. If even fourteen-year-old Hanna could spot the anomaly, he was doing a poor job of blending in. For a man of his former profession, it was a legitimate embarrassment.
Locke was a transmigrator. In his past life, he had also been named Locke—Locke Li.
Orphaned at six after a horrific car accident, he had been shuffled into an orphanage by well-meaning relatives. His stay there was short; his intellect caught the eye of a blonde, blue-eyed couple who adopted him. He thought he'd found a home, but the moment they stepped foot outside of China, the couple sold him.
He was funneled into a high-security boarding school filled with hundreds of orphans of every race and nationality. The institution belonged to a shadow organization. Under their brutal tutelage, Locke mastered a lethal repertoire of skills, surviving every cull until graduation.
Based on his evaluations, he was assigned to the Logistics Wing as a "Cleaner"—a ghost existing in the gray margins of the world. His job was to scrub crime scenes, erase evidence, and forge causes of death until murders looked like unfortunate accidents.
During his final mission, a hidden timer under a villa floorboard ended his career. He and the building were reduced to confetti.
Recalling his death, Locke remained impassive. A decade as a Cleaner had left him desensitized; he had seen enough corpses and human depravity to last several lifetimes. He was tired of the control, tired of the shadows. To him, the explosion felt less like a tragedy and more like an honorable discharge.
He knew the blast wasn't an accident. He simply knew too much.
...
In front of the bathroom mirror, Locke stared at his reflection while brushing his teeth. It had been ten days, yet the sight still felt foreign.
Compared to his previous life's pale, forgettable face, this new visage was striking. He had dark, wavy hair and deep-set blue eyes framed by a sharp, aristocratic bone structure. It was a face that radiated sunshine and youthful vigor—the quintessential "pretty boy" look.
Having fully integrated the original owner's memories, Locke knew the "pretty boy" persona was a lie.
The original Locke had been a brute—a hot-tempered thug who used "fuck" as a comma and viewed brawling as a primary hobby. This created a massive problem: the current Locke was a cautious, reserved introvert. The personality gap was a canyon, so he had opted for silence to avoid detection.
Fortunately, the original Locke, a patrol officer for the LAPD, had just survived his first shooting. He had neutralized two drug dealers with a textbook quick-draw before being struck by a runaway vehicle. He was currently on mandatory administrative leave.
His family naturally chalked up his newfound stoicism to PTSD—the lingering trauma of taking a human life.
In truth, transmigration wasn't the hardest thing to swallow. This was.
Locke let out a soft sigh. With a mere thought, a minimalist interface flickered into existence before his eyes.
[Light of Justice - Hardcore Cop System 2.0]
Host: Locke Li / Rock Lee
Level: 1
Strength: 9 (Human Peak: 20)
Speed: 9 (Human Peak: 20)
Endurance: 9 (Human Peak: 20)
Spirit: 7 (Human Peak: 20)
Mastered Skills: * Handgun (L0 - Novice)
Rifle (L0 - Novice)
Mixed Martial Arts (L1 - Proficient)
Car Driving (L1 - Proficient)
Chinese (L1 - Proficient)
Football (L2 - Expert)
Mating (L2 - Expert)
Swimming (L1 - Proficient)
Justice Points: 500 Attribute Points: 1
Cards Held:
Experience Cards: Car Driving (5 Years), Handgun Proficiency (5 Years)
Function Cards: Bullet Avoidance Card
Learning Cards: Spanish (5 Years)
After the shootout, the original owner had been sent flying by a car. His top-tier physique turned a lethal impact into a minor concussion. He woke up in the hospital shortly after.
Or rather, Locke woke up.
Faced with a room full of weeping relatives, the sight of the glowing blue panel had prompted him to promptly "faint" again to buy time. He'd initially suspected alien experimentation, but the panel was silent, non-sentient, and invisible to others.
Through days of testing, he had deciphered the logic. Level 1 meant growth was possible. The four primary attributes covered his physical baseline. The summary? A powerhouse body with a room-temperature IQ.
The skill list was even more damning. He was a quintessential academic failure. Aside from Football, his only Level 2 skill was "Mating." Reading the memories, Locke realized how that level had been achieved—the original owner had spent his high school and college years "grinding" that particular stat day and night.
Hard work really does pay off, Locke thought dryly.
The Justice Points and cards were likely rewards for the dead drug dealers. He hadn't dared to use them yet, but they sat there, waiting.
The attributes gave him a clear perspective on his standing. A "9" in physical stats was formidable, but it explained why he'd been a benchwarmer on the UCLA football team. His teammates—genetic anomalies who looked like they were carved from granite—likely sat well above 10 in Strength and Speed. Compared to a regular person, who likely averaged below 8, he was an elite specimen.
Then there was "Spirit." His core intelligence was... disappointing. As a person of Chinese descent, it was almost insulting that he hadn't inherited the stereotypical "academic" genes.
Locke Li was a biracial mix. His father, Todd, was an international student from China. His mother, Marian Locke, was a blonde, blue-eyed German-American. Both were Yale alumni.
Physically, Locke had inherited his mother's Germanic frame. Standing 1.92 meters tall and weighing 102kg, he was a mountain of a man. He lacked the coarse pores and heavy body odor common in the West, which made his "Human Aphrodisiac" nickname in college even more fitting.
He had been recruited by UCLA on a football scholarship, but the talent gap at the collegiate level had crushed his dreams. He'd spent his junior year quitting the team and coasting through a Chinese Language and Culture major just to secure a degree.
After graduation, he'd joined the Los Angeles Police Department. A degree from a top-twenty school like UCLA made him an overqualified candidate in a department that only required a high school diploma.
After twelve weeks of academy training, he had been assigned to the Wilshire Police Station under the Western Division as a Probationary Officer—a P1, or "Rookie." The probationary period lasted eighteen months. Only after that would he become a P2, a "real" cop with full union protection and independent enforcement rights.
Locke had considered quitting. America was a land of "freedom" where gunfights were a daily occurrence, and he was tired of living on the edge. With his looks, he could have tried Hollywood. Or, failing that, he could have headed to the San Fernando Valley—with a Level 2 "Mating" skill, he surely could have carved out a career in the adult film industry.
But one look at the system's name killed that thought.
Light of Justice.
He didn't have a choice. He had to be a cop.