Studying at Kamar-Taj was just a backup plan for Roy.
After all, Roy was afraid that with his Mafia background, he would be "purged for the sake of righteousness" by the mages of Kamar-Taj.
Temporarily setting aside the idea of studying at Kamar-Taj, Roy spent a quiet afternoon finally absorbing the torrent of knowledge from the Sage System and formulating an alternative development plan.
Wizard, mage, or even arcanist—all were professions that used knowledge as a ladder for advancement.
Without making contact with Kamar-Taj for the time being, he could completely rely on the alchemy that came with the Philosopher's Stone to research and advance on his own, using the foundational supernatural knowledge of runology, potions, magical crystallography, artifice, and creation.
Besides, it was only 2002, and the supernatural was not yet apparent.
According to his knowledge, this world was most likely based on the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
The dawn of the superhero era wouldn't come until the birth of Iron Man in '08.
Even the Chitauri invasion of New York was still 10 years away, and the world-ending crisis of the Blip was a full 15 years in the future.
Such a long time was more than enough for him to grow strong enough to protect himself.
Putting other things aside, according to the basic knowledge from the Sage System, creating a golem army would be enough to dominate New York.
Building a mage tower would be enough to make him the uncrowned king of all of America.
If he could build a floating city, taking on Thanos's cosmic fleet would be a trivial matter.
Beating up dimensional demons like Dormammu or Mephisto wouldn't be impossible either.
By then, he could have a chat with the Ancient One, hehe. At that point, even a steel coin dropped on the ground would be his.
As long as he protected his Earth, he would have enough time to climb all the way to the top, until he became an unprecedented God of Magic.
Ring-ring-ring!
The crisp ring of the room service phone awakened Roy from his futuristic reverie.
He glanced at his system panel.
Roy let out another long sigh. He only had a total of 36 basic runes and not a single spell, let alone a golem army, a mage tower, or a floating city.
The road to protecting his Earth was long and arduous.
A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
Damn it, first, get money.
After sighing, Roy promptly picked up the room phone. Charon's cautious and polite voice quickly came through the receiver.
"Mr. Roy, it is now six o'clock in the evening. May I ask if you require dinner service?"
"Yeah!"
"Mr. Winston has prepared Italian cuisine and would like to have dinner with you, Mr. Roy. Is that acceptable?"
"Old Winston? Sure, but I prefer Chinese food. The authentic kind, not the modified version."
"Mr. Roy, I will relay your suggestion to Mr. Winston. Would 8 o'clock be acceptable for dinner?"
"See you in two hours, then!"
Hanging up the phone, Roy casually poured himself half a glass of whiskey, his gaze slightly profound.
In this goddamn shared universe of American media, all sorts of absurd and bizarre things were countless. Even the Mafia could be the black glove of the Church's Inquisition.
The existence of a killer platform and safe haven like the Continental Hotel was not hard to accept.
The Continental Hotel, an organization capable of establishing a platform for assassins in major cities worldwide, was not to be underestimated.
Therefore, Roy had no intention of refusing Winston's dinner invitation.
The New York Continental Hotel held a certain degree of influence, even with the High Table behind it, not to mention that Winston had been managing it for nearly 30 years.
Among the global underground powers, Winston was considered a significant figure.
As for New York, Winston was undoubtedly the local kingpin, possessing immense power and connections.
Just as Roy had said when he checked in, now that his territory had been assigned to Lower Manhattan by the family, he and the Continental were 'neighbors'.
There was no harm in getting on good terms with this old fox, Winston, ahead of time.
Having made his decision, Roy quickly relaxed. He took a shower to unwind and changed into a more comfortable set of casual clothes.
As eight o'clock approached, Roy left his room and went straight to the Continental's rooftop restaurant.
It had to be said that old Winston knew how to enjoy life.
The entire rooftop of the Continental had been designed with a semi-open layout, filled with potted fresh flowers. Looking out, one could see the splendid prosperity of half of Manhattan.
Upon arriving at the rooftop restaurant, Roy immediately spotted old Winston, who bore a striking resemblance to 'Rambo', sitting at a corner table, elegantly swirling the aperitif in his crystal glass.
Their eyes met, and old Winston raised his glass in a toast—gentle, refined, and surprisingly approachable.
A moment later, Roy sat down opposite Winston and accepted the thin cigar old Winston handed him.
"Cohiba Behike, my favorite. You're very thoughtful. No wonder the New York Continental has become more and more prosperous these years!"
"That's because you're worth it, Roy. Welcome to New York."
"Shit, Winston, you sound like a scumbag in a movie about to trick a woman into bed. Please don't be so nice to me, it's kind of scary."
Hearing Roy's jest, even an old fox like Winston was slightly taken aback, his hand twitching.
Only then did Roy laugh heartily. "Winston, just kidding. Let's eat first. I've only had one airplane meal since coming from Italy, and God, that was a disaster."
Winston also smiled and shook his head, waving for the waiter to serve the food.
In a short while, a series of extremely exquisite and sumptuous Chinese dishes were presented at the table.
Eight dishes and a soup, there was even rice.
It had to be said, old Winston was truly meticulous when it came to hospitality and details.
At the same time, this strange yet familiar, authentic Chinese cuisine greatly whetted Roy's appetite.
It was a dinner where both host and guest were thoroughly pleased.
By the time the meal ended, the once lively rooftop restaurant had gradually been cleared out, leaving only Roy and Winston.
Roy wiped his mouth and finally spoke, "Winston, I imagine this dinner wasn't just to welcome me to New York. A single street in the lower district isn't worth such a grand reception from you."
Winston, with a sleepy look in his eyes, said calmly, "That's right, Roy. If it were just that, it wouldn't be worth it."
"But it's a different matter if it's for the Robin Hood from Sicily."
Roy wasn't surprised that Winston knew his background.
Just as John Wick was the renowned Baba Yaga, the Boogeyman, of the New York Continental, Roy was also a shining star at the Rome Continental.
But after hearing Winston's words, Roy rolled his eyes and said, "Winston, you should learn to use your words more accurately."
"What the hell is 'the Robin Hood from Sicily'? It's the Black Mask, a knight who walks in the darkness."
...
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