"Caine? You mean the blind guy? Didn't he retire?" John thought back carefully and finally remembered his former close friend.
"Yes. Those pigs from the High Table want to lay hands on his daughter." Winston nodded, then sighed. "You retired old guys are each more troublesome than the last."
John Wick had come out of retirement for his dog and slaughtered the entire Tarasov gang.
Caine, for his daughter, was preparing to wipe out the entire High Table—and had already completed one-third of the task.
Winston simply couldn't understand it.
With John Wick as a precedent, how could those idiots from the High Table still refuse to learn their lesson?
They always had to push these once-legendary assassins to the brink.
Why couldn't they learn from him?
By clinging to John Wick's coattails, he had cut his way upward step by step.
Look at his current status.
Who didn't respectfully call him "Mister" when they saw him?
His position had been forged entirely by John Wick's bullets—one shot at a time.
The High Table council seats will probably be reshuffled completely this time.
I should start preparing. Maybe I can run for a council seat myself.
Thinking this, Winston immediately tried to tempt John.
"Wick, you have to help me. If I become a council member, I can clear all your charges."
"I'll think about it."
John Wick did not agree immediately.
Winston was unreliable.
He had not forgotten the last time Winston betrayed him.
Even though Winston had been trying to save his own life, betrayal was still betrayal.
Because of that betrayal, John had spent more than a year recovering from his injuries.
"I'll wait for your good news."
Winston casually picked up his whiskey with ice and raised it toward John.
He knew John Wick would eventually help him.
John needed freedom.
And he needed Winston's influence to obtain it.
At the same time, in Continental Hotels and criminal organizations around the world, long-suppressed resentment began to erupt.
Over the years, many forces had been oppressed by the High Table.
Now, with Caine launching the first strike, those forces surged forward like a tidal wave, joining the bloody purge against the High Table's leadership.
Caine's sudden appearance forced the twelve council members to recall most of their forces to defend their own families.
This greatly weakened their control over smaller and mid-sized organizations.
Naturally, their enemies seized the opportunity.
The Belarusian Gang, which had previously been punished for helping John Wick, acted without hesitation.
Their former leader had been killed.
His daughter had even been forced to kneel and beg for mercy in order to demonstrate submission.
The humiliation burned like fire.
Now the gang erupted in fury.
They took up arms and attacked with full force, completely wiping out the High Table's local forces.
Their captured leader was hung alive on a high platform.
His body was left to rot under the blazing sun for three days.
Not a single person dared retrieve it.
Meanwhile, the managers of the Continental Hotels—who understood the internal structure of the organization—chose to remain cautious.
They adopted a wait-and-see attitude.
After all, both the High Table and the Continental Hotels ultimately served the Hassan Clan.
The High Table acted as the clan's spokesperson.
Destroying the High Table was equivalent to slapping the Hassan Clan in the face.
No one wanted to be purged by the Hassan Clan afterward. (T/N: What kind of Xianxia shit is this???)
Therefore, unlike the smaller factions that openly revolted, the Continental Hotels refrained from attacking High Table forces.
However, Continental Hotels across the world gradually declared independence.
They would no longer obey the High Table's commands.
They would not participate in the conflict.
Clearly, they had no intention of becoming cannon fodder.
Their stance was simple:
You started this conflict.
Then you solve it yourselves.
What if they were fence-sitters?
So what?
As for whether the High Table might settle accounts afterward—
That was another matter entirely.
In the past, the High Table had been powerful, so the Continental Hotels submitted without question.
But now?
Who did the High Table think it was?
Three of the twelve council members had already been eliminated.
And now the fourth family was about to fall.
Even if the High Table won in the end, it would be severely weakened and unable to control the many Continental Hotels scattered around the world.
In fact, the hotels were already ignoring the High Table's orders.
They might listen to suggestions—but not commands.
In the future, a feudal-style system would likely emerge.
If Caine ultimately achieved victory, that would be even better.
After all, many Continental Hotel managers had once been top assassins.
They had fought beside Caine.
They shared bonds forged in life-and-death battles.
Who knew?
Perhaps they would become his loyal vassals.
Meanwhile, Caine's magnificent and bloody slaughter continued.
He wielded a sword-cane that gleamed with cold light.
Each swing flashed like lightning, striking precisely at the vital points of his attackers.
But those killed by Caine's blade did not collapse to the ground like ordinary corpses.
Instead—
A brilliant white light erupted from their wounds.
As the light burst outward, their bodies rapidly disintegrated, transforming into countless tiny particles of basic spiritual energy that slowly dissipated into the air.
It was as though they had never existed.
This was Caine's unique technique.
A skill he had developed himself:
The Sacrificial Blade.
He had inscribed sacrificial magic from the Cyber Dimension directly onto his sword-cane.
This eliminated the tedious process of casting a sacrificial spell after each kill.
More importantly—
The modified weapon inflicted devastating corrosive damage.
Any enemy pierced by the blade would see their wounds rupture at an astonishing speed, forming horrifying hollow cavities.
If the blade penetrated completely, the victim's body would instantly collapse into countless spiritual particles.
Even a shallow cut was enough to cause large sections of flesh to collapse and rot, leading to catastrophic blood loss.
After personally witnessing the terrifying power of sacrificial magic, Caine finally understood the meaning of the phrase:
"The gap between immortals and mortals."
Although he was still technically a mortal who had only just stepped onto the path of cultivation—
And although the spells he used were merely the most basic techniques of the Cyber Dimension—
They were still enough to utterly crush ordinary humans.
They granted him the power to dominate the battlefield.
To walk the world unhindered.
Just as Caine finished dealing with the last assassin who dared attempt to kill him and calmly sheathed his blade—
A man in a luxurious red suit suddenly appeared.
Behind him stood several burly men in suits.
Clearly, they were not here for friendly conversation.
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