The Continental Hotel. The assassins all had their own channels, and it didn't take long for them to learn about what happened last night. They had a very clear understanding of their own strengths. A target like Dave Boyle would require at least six assassins working closely together to have any chance of succeeding.
It seemed this newcomer was the next Bullseye.
The Continental Hotel had clashed with Kingpin years ago. Seven assassins had died at the hands of Bullseye alone.
Winston sat on a lounge chair in the lobby. His energy was not something ordinary assassins could compare to. After Broli left the Irish community, he knew the general situation and even obtained the cards Broli had used to kill people from the scene.
At this moment, he was toying with a poorly made card in his hand. Suddenly, he flicked it, and the card spun and flew over ten meters before falling limply to the ground.
"Charon, what kind of monster could possibly use these ordinary cards to shoot down fifty-four fully armed gunmen?"
Seventy-six people died in Dave Boyle's mansion last night. Aside from sixteen servants, everyone else was dead. Twenty-one people died from having their necks broken, and fifty-four died from their tracheas and arteries being severed by cards. The remaining person was Dave Boyle himself; his head had been twisted off.
"How terrifying... Charon... Do you know what the number fifty-four represents?"
Winston looked at the card, which was clearly cut from a playing card, the Seven of Spades, and spoke in an almost murmuring voice.
"The number of cards in a deck is exactly fifty-four. That person just bought a deck of cards, cut them into pigeon shapes, and didn't waste a single card, but he knew there were seventy enemies. If you were going into a battle with thirty or more enemies, would you only bring seven bullets? A normal person, unless they were desperate, would never do that. It's clear these cards are just a small trick of his."
Charon picked up the card and examined it carefully. The creator of these cards was clearly very perfunctory; the pigeon was cut in a strange shape, the wings weren't symmetrical, and the head was even missing a piece. It was hard to imagine someone could kill enemies over sixty meters away with such a crude prop.
"What does the pigeon symbolize?"
Winston picked up his water glass and took a sip, pondering for a moment.
"Perhaps some kind of totem. However, few factions or organizations use pigeons as totems and symbols. The earliest pigeon totems appeared in Mesopotamia. He's very likely from a lineage passed down from the Assassins, which might be a breakthrough in uncovering his identity."
Charon nodded. Winston had been in this business for over fifty years, and he had been managing the Continental Hotel for forty years. The experience and knowledge he had accumulated was a very valuable asset.
Just then, the doors of the Continental Hotel were suddenly pushed open, and a figure walked in. The entire lobby suddenly became quiet, and everyone was quietly sizing up the person who had entered.
Broli was carrying a cloth bag, unaffected by the gazes. Before long, the lobby became noisy again. It was just that everyone was a little absent-minded, their wandering eyes falling on the bag in his hand.
"Welcome to the Continental Hotel, Mr. Wayne."
Charon subtly put the card away and walked behind the counter. Winston silently left the lobby.
Broli threw the bag onto the counter, and Dave Boyle's head rolled out, still displaying the terrified and disbelieving expression of Dave.
"Dave Boyle is dead. How do I get the money that's owed to me?"
A wave of noise erupted in the lobby again; Dave Boyle was actually dead.
Charon's face twitched. He took a pair of gloves from under the counter and put them on. He carefully put the head back into the bag, then took out cleaning solution and thoroughly cleaned and wiped the counter.
"Mr. Wayne, Mr. Kingpin already transferred the full amount to our account. You can withdraw the money here at any time. Additionally, we have methods to confirm the success of a hunt, and... and we don't need such a crude method to prove it."
Broli knocked on the table in dissatisfaction.
"You should have said that earlier. This head started to stink after only three hours, I don't even know how to explain it to the waiter."
A bead of cold sweat dripped down Charon's forehead. Broli's dissatisfaction put him under tremendous pressure, but he had never said that they needed the target's head as proof of a successful hunt.
"Forget it, I'll give you this head. You can process it and hang it on the wall as a decoration." Broli said, "Also, I'm ready to withdraw the bounty now."
There were still a few farms in Lachitas Town that hadn't been acquired due to a lack of funds. With this money, he could acquire those plots and connect all the land together. Broli was also planning to spend money to buy a batch of beef cattle and put them in the farm's pasture.
With Broli and Kakarot's appetite, they consumed almost two adult beef cattle a day. If he didn't buy more, the cattle in the farm would soon be eaten up.
Charon wiped away a cold sweat. Although they were an organization that served assassins, they weren't depraved enough to use a head as a decoration.
"Such a decoration, if you want to hang it on the hotel's wall, needs the approval of Mr. Winston, and I think he probably won't agree. As for the bounty, I can pay you now, Mr. Wayne."
He said, picking up the desk phone and making a call. Before long, a waiter came over with a large leather suitcase and handed it to Broli.
"You can count it, Mr. Wayne. If you need money laundering services, the Continental Hotel only charges two gold coins plus a 10% commission, and you can turn all the bounty into legal income. In addition, the hotel provides gold coin exchange services. One gold coin is equivalent to ten thousand US dollars. You can use gold coins to obtain any service from the Continental Hotel, including safe accommodation, weapons, armor, medical treatment, and information about targets. Everything can be exchanged for gold coins."
Most money laundering organizations charge around 30% commission, which was indeed very reasonable. But letting the Continental Hotel launder his money was equivalent to handing over all of his identity information to them, so Broli didn't choose the Continental Hotel's money laundering service.
Alejandro had forged an identity for him in Bolivia that was very reliable. Funds under ten million wouldn't attract the attention of the FBI and the IRS.
"By the way, did I violate the Continental Hotel's rules by killing that old lady who was trying to talk to me last night?"
Broli took a candy from the counter, peeled it, and put it in his mouth, chewing as he asked.
Charon's heart skipped a beat; he felt like Broli seemed to be hoping the Continental Hotel would make a move on him.
"Of course not, Mr. Wayne. As long as it's not within the hotel, the mutual killing between assassins has nothing to do with the Continental Hotel..."
Broli sighed with disappointment and turned to leave.
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