Sofia kept her gaze locked on John Wick. She reached out with one hand and slowly slid the Marker back across the table toward him. "No. After this is done, you owe me."
She stood up, her movements sharp and professional. "Ten minutes. Then we leave."
On the other side of the Casablanca Continental, atop a private open-air terrace, Hayate and his team gathered. Directly below them was the second-floor balcony—a wide, open space that was perfectly visible from their vantage point.
This was the suite Berrada had provided. It was unique; the only room in the hotel with a direct, unobstructed bird's-eye view of the lower terrace.
Iruka stepped to Hayate's side, bowing respectfully. "Lord Hayate, John Wick has entered the building."
Hayate held a glass of White Horse Scotch, swirling the amber liquid before taking a slow sip. "I know."
He leaned against the stone railing, peering down at the empty terrace below. "Why is it," he murmured, "that someone always wants to kill the dog?"
"Don't they know that 'dog people' are terrifying when provoked?"
Hotaru heard him and walked over, squinting at the balcony below. She saw nothing but empty chairs and decorative plants. "Boss, who's trying to kill a dog?"
Hayate pointed a finger toward the vacant space. "In a few minutes, a very confident, very unlucky fool is going to do something incredibly stupid right there."
Hotaru blinked, her mind racing. She didn't see anyone, but she had learned that Hayate's "intuition" was rarely wrong. Since her days in the Fraternity, she had encountered many strange abilities, but Hayate's foresight felt different—almost divine. She looked back down, her expression turning serious.
Meanwhile, Sofia had changed into her tactical gear and emerged with her weapons checked.
Seeing her attire and the arsenal she carried, John Wick stood from the sofa. "We don't have to go in guns blazing like the old days, Sofia. This is just a conversation."
Sofia knelt beside one of her Malinois, checking its harness. She looked up at John, her eyes hard. "Getting involved with you is never just a conversation."
She tucked a backup pistol into the hidden holster built into the dog's ballistic vest. "Let's go."
Sofia led John through the subterranean alchemy and minting district. As they approached Berrada's private quarters, they were stopped for a thorough pat-down.
Just as the guards finished, Berrada himself walked out, his arms spread wide in a grand gesture of welcome. "Sofia! It is always a pleasure to see you."
He stepped closer, his eyes immediately drifting to the dogs. "And your companions... what magnificent creatures. May I?"
Sofia nodded curtly to her superior. "Of course. This is D'Artagnan."
The Malinois stepped forward, ears perked. Berrada knelt, stroking the dog's head with practiced ease. "Exquisite," he whispered.
While still scratching the dog's ears, he looked up at John. "John Wick. I heard rumors you had touched down on our shores." He stood, smoothing his expensive suit. "Come. We have much to discuss."
As they walked toward the upper terrace, Berrada mused, "I must admit, I'm curious. What wind blows you into my domain? Tell me... are you here to kill me?"
"No," John replied simply.
Berrada nodded, satisfied. Within the span of twenty-four hours, he had hosted two legendary assassins, and neither was there to take his head. It was a good day for his ego.
Up on the top terrace, Hotaru whispered, "They're here. And they really brought the dogs."
She glanced at Hayate with a look that bordered on worship. Coming from the Fraternity, she was familiar with the idea of destiny and foresight, but Hayate's casual certainty made him seem like a giant in her eyes.
"Everyone, gather 'round," Hayate called out. "The show is about to start. Iruka, can any of you hear what they're saying down there?"
The team strained their ears, but between the distance and the whistling desert wind, they caught nothing but muffled murmurs. They all shook their heads.
Hayate shrugged. "Fair enough. I suppose we'll just have to enjoy this as a silent film."
On the lower terrace, Berrada paced near the railing. "Mr. Wick, do you know the origin of the word assassin?"
He didn't wait for an answer. "Many say it comes from Hashshashin—the followers of Hassan-i Sabbah. But others believe it stems from the word for 'believer.' One who is steadfast, one who holds to a faith."
He pointed to a gold coin encased in a glass display. "See that? The very first coin minted within these walls. And beside it, the first Marker ever recorded. Believe me, they were not easy to acquire."
"Today, this coin holds no currency value. It represents a social contract—the agreement to participate in this world. Order. Rules."
Berrada stepped directly in front of John. "You broke that order. The Table has declared you dead. Why should I let you walk out of here alive? You have already forfeited your existence."
John dropped to one knee, bowing his head in a rare show of fealty. "I want to make amends. I want to pay the price for what I've done. I wish to see the one who sits above the Table."
John's intent was far different from what Berrada imagined. He wasn't seeking a pardon; he was acting as the scout for Hayate's "takeover" party.
Berrada frowned. This was the second legendary assassin today asking about the Elder. However, Hayate hadn't asked for directions; he had simply checked into a room and waited.
Looking at the kneeling John Wick, Berrada felt something was off. He ignored John and turned to Sofia. "This dog... I truly like him."
"Tell me," Berrada asked, his tone shifting to something more predatory. "Does he shed much?"
Sofia, confused by the pivot, answered honestly. "Occasionally."
John looked up at Sofia, then back to Berrada. "When I leave, you can tell the Elder I am coming for him. If he wants me dead..."
"Then he will ensure your bones bleach in the sun," Berrada interrupted. "I see. You want me to give the Elder a choice: to kill you or to hear you."