Hell's Kitchen, Continental Hotel
"Manager, many assassins are clamoring to check out and demanding refunds of their gold coins," Lie Qing, the newly appointed manager of the Continental Hotel, said to Winston, the hotel's general manager.
Hearing the manager's words, Winston frowned and asked, "The reason?"
It was well known that the Continental Hotel was no ordinary hotel, nor was it a charity. It was an organization specifically designed to provide sanctuary to assassins.
The manager stammered, "They believe our Continental Hotel can no longer protect itself, let alone provide sanctuary. They're demanding refunds!"
Winston frowned. He knew the news of the Federal Government's plan to flatten Hell's Kitchen would have a major impact, but he hadn't expected people to start demanding refunds so quickly.
After all, this newly opened Continental Hotel had only been in business for a month.
Before Winston could speak, a waiter suddenly burst in, panting, and shouted, "Manager, it's bad! Someone is breaking the rules and threatening us with a gun to get their gold coins back!"
"What!" Winston roared in anger. He couldn't believe someone would be so foolish as to draw a gun in the Continental Hotel. Did they have a death wish? Or did they think the Continental Hotel in Hell's Kitchen was a soft target?
As he strode out of the elevator and into the lobby, the sight before him made him frown.
Several armed assassins were holding waiters hostage, shouting, "Give us the money! Give it back!" Their faces were contorted with rage and resentment, as if the Continental Hotel owed them something.
Winston's gaze, sharp and cold as a winter wind, swept over the arrogant assassins.
He already had a plan to deal with them, but he didn't act immediately. Instead, he chose a more measured approach to handle the crisis.
He walked slowly toward the assassins, each step steady and powerful.
His voice was calm yet firm, exerting an invisible pressure on them. "Are you sure you want to do this? Do you not know the rules of the Continental?"
The lead assassin, far from being intimidated, burst into laughter.
He sneered, "You're all for your own lives now! What good are your damn rules? I'll ask you one thing: Who here can kill me?"
The other assassins and the onlookers joined in, their laughter filled with arrogance and defiance, as if they had completely seized control of the situation.
However, just as they were reveling in their triumph, several flashes of cold light suddenly streaked through the air.
Winston's vision blurred for a moment. When it cleared, he saw that the assassin who had just provoked him, along with several others holding hostages, all had a new hole in their heads.
Their bodies collapsed stiffly, blood staining the carpet crimson.
The entire hall fell into a deathly silence, broken only by the clear, piercing sound of blood dripping onto the carpet.
Everyone stared in stunned disbelief, as if unable to trust their own eyes.
Winston was inwardly shaken. He never expected anyone to dare commit a killing on his own turf. But when he turned toward the entrance, a wave of relief washed over him.
Just then, a lazy voice echoed from the hotel doorway: "I can kill you."
Winston focused his gaze and saw two figures standing at the entrance.
It was Marcus and John Wick.
The assassins in the hotel immediately recognized them.
They began to whisper urgently, their voices filled with awe and terror.
"It's the legendary Night Demon!"
"Is that the same Night Demon who wiped out an entire mob over a dog?"
"I thought he was retired. What is he doing here?"
"And that's Marcus, another legendary assassin," someone said.
The two men strode toward Winston, their steps firm and resolute. The other assassins, intimidated by their reputations, dared not make a move.
"What are you doing here?" Winston asked John Wick, his curiosity piqued. "I thought you were working as a security guard."
"The Boss sent us," Marcus explained. "He knew someone would try to cause trouble at the Continental, so he sent us—two old comrades—to help you out."
Winston felt a wave of warmth wash over him. He was filled with gratitude and admiration for Chen Ye, never imagining that Chen Ye would think of him first and provide a solution so quickly.
"Alright, we can catch up later. Let's get down to business," John's lazy voice interrupted their conversation. He swept his gaze across the assembled assassins and spoke slowly: "Is anyone else planning to cause trouble? This is Hell's Kitchen, the territory of Chen Ye, the Lord of Hell."
"If you're worried he can't stand up to the Federal Government, then get lost. But don't even think about getting your money back. Otherwise, you can stay here in peace."
"The Continental will protect you. The Boss's power is beyond your comprehension. Do I make myself clear?"
Though his voice wasn't loud, it seemed to possess a magical quality, ensuring everyone present heard him clearly.
His eyes radiated intense confidence and dominance, as if declaring, "This is my territory. You'd best behave."
Upon meeting John Wick's gaze, the assassins were filled with awe and respect, nodding in understanding.
They knew this former King of Assassins wasn't joking. He truly had the power to protect them and ensure their survival in this perilous world.
Seeing the assassins acknowledge his words, John Wick said no more.
He swept a cold gaze across the room, and when no one else spoke, he took it as a sign that there were no further questions.
"Very well. I'll be here for the time being. Come find me if you have any problems," John Wick added. "But I don't like talking to the living."
His words sent a chill through everyone present, yet simultaneously strengthened their faith in Chen Ye and the Continental Hotel.
They knew that as long as the former King of Assassins was with them, they could rest secure, free from any danger.
As John Wick's words fell, the assassins began to leave the hall one by one.
Watching them depart, Winston suddenly had a thought: *I wonder if the other Elders of the High Table will help the boss... Oh well, it's a matter between the higher-ups. A small fry like me can't get involved.*
With that, Winston led Old Man and John upstairs to catch up.
***
Meanwhile, Old Man was thinking about the High Table Elder Council meeting, which had been convened to address the Federal Government's move to eradicate Chen Ye's forces.
Inside the conference room, the atmosphere was tense and solemn.
Twelve large screens corresponded to the twelve Elders of the High Table. At this moment, eleven were already lit, while the only one that remained dark was Chen Ye's seat.
This silently declared Chen Ye's current predicament and highlighted the urgency of the meeting.
A female Elder broke the silence with a teasing tone: "The High Table has been holding meetings very frequently this year, and all of them are because of the same person. Elder Chen Ye is truly something else."
A Japanese Elder declared angrily, "I bet it won't be long before our High Table has to replace another Elder. I said from the beginning that Chen Ye, that brat, shouldn't have been made an Elder. Baka!"
His anger was palpable, clearly showing his strong prejudice against Chen Ye's situation.
"I've set my sights on his territory. Don't even try to compete with me," a white Elder said domineeringly.
As soon as these words came out, the other Elders were incensed.
"On what grounds?!"
Facing the chaotic situation, Elder Makutum decisively stepped forward to quell the dispute: "Enough! Chen Ye hasn't even lost yet, and you're already starting to carve up his territory. Who would want to join the High Table after this?"
His voice was loud and firm, immediately quieting the room.
A Korean man, who looked like a celebrity, remained unmoved. He said coldly, "So what? Help him? Going against the Federal Government is no different from committing suicide."
Elder Makutum proposed a compromise: "We don't need to help Elder Chen Ye with actual force. Everyone here must have a few media channels they can influence. Let's speak up for Elder Chen Ye and turn the tide of public opinion. Let's vote. Help or not help. The choice is yours."
After a heated discussion and vote, the final result was 5 against and 6 in favor.
Although the result wasn't perfect, it at least showed that a portion of the elders were willing to lend a hand.
After announcing the vote's outcome, Elder Makutum reaffirmed the importance of unity and mutual aid: "Since the vote has passed, everyone, do your part. Those who don't will know the consequences the next time they need our help."
His warning made even the elders who had held reservations realize their responsibilities and duties.
Makutum had always trusted his own judgment.
He firmly believed that Chen Ye possessed the strength and wisdom to overcome this crisis.
He knew which was more valuable: adding flowers to a brocade or sending charcoal in the snow.
Makutum muttered to himself while gazing into the distance, "Young man, I've done all I can. Whether you survive this round or not is up to you now."
-----------------------
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