John Wick was taken aback by the sudden appearance and rescue of Yamamoto Kaito; moments ago, he had thought he was about to join his beloved wife and dog in the afterlife.
"Thank you, Kaito. I owe you one."
John reached to loosen the bonds on his wrists, but Kaito interrupted, "No need for that."
With a flick, Kaito tossed a shuriken that cleanly sliced through the restraints.
"Cool!" John exclaimed, grabbing the Kel-Tec KSG shotgun from the floor as he sprinted toward the exit. "I'll thank you properly back at the Continental—but right now, I've got work."
Sunlight caught Kaito as he pulled out a kunai and flicked it in a certain direction. The reflected light flashed onto a rooftop where Marcus was stationed.
Marcus realized he'd been spotted by a true professional assassin. Without unnecessary moves, satisfied that his old friend John had been saved without his help, Marcus packed up his sniper rifle and prepared to leave the scene.
Outside, John had fully cornered Viggo Tarasov, shooting his driver dead with the shotgun.
"Where's he?" John demanded, pressing the gun toward Viggo's face after emptying a round beside him.
After extracting the location of Viggo's son and arranging for Viggo to cancel the bounty on him, John agreed not to attack Viggo further.
Meanwhile, Kaito didn't reveal himself but slipped away using his shinobi speed and stealth, leaving the area without being detected.
He was indifferent to the truce between John and Viggo—it wasn't his concern. John had his reasons: on one hand, needing the bounty withdrawn; on the other, Viggo might once have been his boss.
John's only motive was personal vengeance: whoever killed his dog and stole his car would die. Everyone follows their own code.
—
Meanwhile, back at the Continental, Perkins had killed Harry in his room and seized the gold token John had given him. Recalling John flipping off the bed unexpectedly during her assassination attempt, she revisited John's room.
Near the bedside, she spotted a bullet hole—a sniper's, not from her pistol. Tracing the bullet's path to the window, she found a corresponding entry point.
"Damn it, someone's sabotaging my job!"
"I'll make you pay."
Realizing why her assassination failed, Perkins left the Continental.
—
Elsewhere, Kaito returned swiftly to the Continental's entrance, tossing a gold token to the doorman as his fee. Back in his room, he awaited John's return, expecting thanks.
Satisfied with the mission's results—just two henchmen killed and a life saved for a promise—Kaito found the transaction worthwhile.
Reflecting on the tokens used, he found their purchasing power baffling.
One token granted entry to the Continental.
One token paid for a room.
One token let you enter the hotel bar.
One token got doctor's treatment.
One token covered corpse disposal.
Even asking Harry for help cost a token.
At the Continental, every service—even hiring an assassin—costs at least one token.
Yet a single token might only buy a few hours' care for a pet, or, on a bigger scale, contract a capable killer for a single assassination.
John Wick's own bounty was four tokens—enough to tempt assassins to break hotel rules and kill inside.
Without tokens, just dollars, you're unlikely to hire a Continental killer.
These tokens, promoted by the High Table, are the assassin world's hard currency.
The Continental acts like a mercenary guild—offering bounties, intelligence, and membership protection, including a strict no-killing zone inside the hotel.
Eighty percent of New York's assassins register here.
It's the killer capital.
Outside, rival groups exist, but none challenge the Continental's dominance.
The Continental also has enforcers policing rule-breakers, and each hotel manager commands an armed private force.
Behind all this sits the High Table: a global coalition of twelve seats held by factions like the Camorra, Mafia, Glorious Society, and Triads.
Where there's power, there's conflict—inside the High Table, intrigue and rivalry simmer.
Kaito's ambition was clear: to claim one of those twelve seats. Before Marvel's big events unfold, this was a prime objective.
After all, the assassin's trade aligns perfectly: assassination, intelligence, even sparking wars.
Lying on his bed, Kaito toyed with a gold token, letting it jump across his fingers.
—
Elsewhere, after revealing the location John requested, Viggo Tarasov didn't immediately leave.
He returned to the warehouse where John had been held and inspected the two dead bodies, eager to understand how the Baba Yaga had escaped and fought back. His men had guns while John was tightly bound.
Examining the wounds and the shuriken and throwing star left behind, Viggo's face darkened with rage.
"Ninja Kaito!"