"Ugh~"
Lying in bed, John Wick groggily opened his eyes and scanned the unfamiliar surroundings. But then, rembering his current situation, he imdiately tried to get up—only to fall back down with a pained groan. That's when he realized his entire body was wrapped in bandages. His wounds had already scabbed over, the blood washed away, and he was dressed in fresh clothes.
In the haze, he heard a conversation outside the door.
"My lord, are we really going to take him in?"
"Why not? Isn't it interesting? I just got back, and sothing fun has already landed at my door."
"…Didn't you say you missed Lady Athena?"
"What was that you just said?"
"Nothing at all!"
"Mm, good."
The conversation ended there, and the door opened. John Wick watched as the two people entered the room.
…
…
"…Thank you."
Upon hearing this, lin couldn't help but admire him. As expected of the Boogeyman, John Wick—the man who killed with a pencil and could slaughter an entire family over a dog.
No questions about where he was, who they were, or why he was saved…
Just a simple "thank you." So straightforward and decisive.
"You're welco."
"I have to go, otherwise…"
"You'd better stay in bed. Twenty-four stab wounds, twelve gunshot wounds, four major blunt-force injuries, five broken ribs, and several microfractures in other bones. Even if you could move, going outside like this would be suicide," lin said bluntly as he sat beside him.
"…Soone wants dead. I have to leave," John Wick replied, fully aware of how serious his injuries were. If not for his willpower and survival instinct, he would've already died.
"If you're worried about the people chasing you, relax. You've been unconscious for three days. A few waves of them ca looking for trouble, but they were all dealt with. As long as you stay inside this house, no one should be able to touch you," lin assured him.
"Uh… thanks."
"You're welco. After all, you collapsed at my doorstep. Galon, go prepare him sothing to eat."
"Yes, my lord."
Galon gave John Wick a deep look before leaving the room. With his senses, he could feel that John Wick's cosmos burned with a crimson hue—no doubt the man carried countless lives on his back. Even among top-tier assassins, not even mbers of the Cross could match that aura.
Beneath that blood-red cosmos, though, lay a strong fortress—and inside that fortress, warmth and happiness.
A man full of contradictions: ruthless and brutal, yet using violence to conceal a faint glimr of light deep within.
"Can you tell your nas?" John Wick asked.
"lin. He's Galon."
"lin… Galon… thank you."
"You've thanked us quite a few tis now. No need to be so formal, Mr. Wick."
Hearing lin casually speak his na, John Wick instinctively assud lin was an assassin sent to kill him. He tried to roll out of bed to grab a weapon—but then realized lin's hand was resting lightly on his chest. It felt like nothing, yet he couldn't move at all.
"Relax, Mr. Wick. If I wanted you dead, why would I save you?"
John Wick imdiately saw the logic in that and obediently lay back down.
"Eat sothing later and get so rest. Here, you don't have to worry about soone killing you in your sleep," lin said, patting John Wick's shoulder before walking out.
John Wick stared at lin's retreating back, deep in thought.
…
"My lord, he's asleep."
"Mm, let him rest."
"But my lord, those people outside…" Galon glanced out the window, his expression darkening.
The whole neighborhood had been bought by Howard, just like in Brooklyn. There were no bars, malls, or entertainnt venues nearby, so normally, there were few people loitering around.
But ever since John Wick was brought ho, things had beco lively. There appeared to be many passersby—but most of them were just circling the sa block, never actually leaving, with their eyes constantly on the house.
On the first day John Wick was rescued, so people ca to the door—so trying to conceal their identities, so sneaking in during the night, and so even attempting a direct assault to kill lin and Galon along with Wick.
But without exception, those who entered the house never ca back out—not even their bodies were found.
Yet lin and Galon's life continued as usual, as if nothing had happened.
This eerie situation made the assassins hesitant to act. So were gathering intelligence. Others were waiting for a ti when lin and Galon were away. But most were simply waiting for John Wick to step out of the house.
They didn't dare make another direct move—but that didn't an Galon was happy about being targeted by dozens of hostile presences every day. If lin hadn't forbidden it, the street would've been a river of blood by now.
"Galon, don't always think about killing. We're warriors who stand on the side of justice."
"But my lord, those people aren't exactly saints. Killing them would be a public service," Galon protested.
"…And then?"
"Then… it would be peaceful again?" Galon scratched his head.
"Sigh…" lin facepald. Galon was indeed a combat genius, with excellent instincts and tactical sense—but when it ca to anything else, he was hopeless.
"If you kill them all, first the police will co. Then intelligence agencies, then governnt reps from all over. And then…"
"And then…?" At this point, sweat was already beading on Galon's forehead. That didn't sound peaceful—it sounded even worse.
"And then Peggy shows up. Are you ready to face her complaints?" lin gave him a side glance.
"Uh… my lord, I'll listen to you." Galon imdiately gave up on the idea of wiping out the assassins outside.
"Just wait. The scouts have done their rounds. Three days should've been enough ti for them to gather intel. Soone who actually matters should be showing up soon," lin said calmly, sipping his coffee.
"…Yes, sir."
"Alright, you don't need to worry about things here anymore. Your vacation's over. Ti to get back to work. Even Tony's complaining that his new hire took a day off on the first day."
"Uh… I was… fine…" Galon wanted to argue, but seeing the kind look in lin's eyes, he fell silent.
Everything's my fault. Lord lin is never wrong. Lesson learned.
Just as lin predicted, within two days, a representative from the High Table arrived. It was the sa cold, sharp, short-haired woman lin rembered, accompanied by a bald man from Japan—also an old acquaintance.
"lin, I must say, your intel network is impressive. Even we couldn't figure out your true identity," the Adjudicator said.
"Really? I don't recall doing anything like that," lin replied, raising a brow in mock confusion.
That was half-true. He hadn't deliberately hidden his identity—but he knew Peggy and the others would've helped keep it secret anyway.
"Is that so? Then perhaps these docunts will help jog your mory."
The Adjudicator wasn't yet certain of lin's true identity—just that he held considerable power. Avoiding conflict would be ideal. But she still didn't believe any group could rival the High Table.
For example, the Continental Hotel network under the High Table was universally acknowledged as the safest place in the world. No one dared fight there—not even heads of state. Otherwise, they'd face endless pursuit, just like John Wick.
The High Table had eyes and weapons everywhere. The street vendor selling you pancakes might be an assassin or a spy.
So she still held her head high, confident and in control.
lin casually flipped through the docunts. He hadn't paid much attention before, but now that he had ti, he was curious to see what kind of backstory Peggy and the others had crafted for him.
"Pfft—hahaha… wow, they really went all out," lin chuckled aloud.
"Is sothing wrong, Mr. lin?" the Adjudicator asked, a bit annoyed.
"Sorry, couldn't help it. I wasn't laughing at you. Your team did an excellent job gathering all this," lin complinted.
"Of course."
"But… just look at this one: born in Kentucky, raised by a cowboy family… do I look like a wild cowboy to you?"
For so reason, the Adjudicator actually looked him over—and silently agreed with his assessnt.
"And this one—heir to a wealthy Washington dynasty… I an, sure, I'm not poor, but I don't act like those spoiled heirs. And then this…"
lin kept flipping through twenty-sothing files, each one a different fake identity Peggy and the others had forged for him. The funniest one was being Tony's distant cousin—his "older cousin," no less. That was just Tony flattering himself.
"Alright, Mr. lin, let's get to the point," the Adjudicator suddenly said, realizing with a jolt that she had fallen right into lin's pace and completely forgotten why she ca.
"Very well, then. What brings you two here?" lin asked, hands spread casually.
"John Wick is the top target of the High Table. We ask that you hand him over," she stated plainly.
"Hmm… and if I say no?"
lin smiled mysteriously—and the air in the room suddenly turned ice-cold.
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