New York – Russian Mob Headquarters
Viggo Tarasov watched the video sent by his subordinates, his face dark with rage. He hadn't expected that in the matter of John Wick, aside from Smith Doyle's interference, even Marcus—the hitman he had paid for—would betray him.
Marcus was a registered assassin of the Continental Hotel, and also one of Viggo's men. Their relationship was similar to that of John Wick and Viggo before John's retirement. Although Marcus was under Viggo's command, assassination contracts still had to follow the Continental's rules.
When issuing the bounty on John Wick, Viggo had first approached Marcus, offering him $4 million to kill John. He assumed the mission had failed due to a lack of opportunity or an unsuccessful attempt.
But he never expected betrayal. The interference of others angered Viggo, but betrayal by his own subordinate was intolerable.
"Damn Marcus. He'll learn what happens when you betray me."
He immediately ordered his men to continue tracking Marcus and find out his whereabouts.
Upon learning Marcus was returning home, Viggo ordered a blockade and prepared to personally eliminate the traitor.
At that moment, his phone rang, and he received a report from a subordinate.
"We've tracked Smith Doyle. He's driving toward the suburbs."
"Kill him. Send him to hell."
---
Elsewhere
Fox was driving Smith toward the textile factory. They stopped at a T-junction under a red light.
"Is the final assessment confirmed?" she asked.
Smith nodded.
"The Cross sent word. The final task has been chosen. I'm to return and collect the intel."
Fox's eyes lit up excitedly.
"So that means once this mission is done, you'll become the one true GOD—the leader of the Assassin's League!"
A smile appeared on Smith's face.
"Eighteen years of hope, almost fulfilled."
As they spoke, a black SUV suddenly crashed into them from the side. At the last second, Smith pulled Fox, trying to minimize the damage.
Bang!
The car was violently hit and pushed to the roadside.
The sudden impact dazed Fox, but she instinctively reached for her gun. Just as she was about to aim, two more SUVs slammed into the front and back, dislodging the weapon from her hand.
Gunmen popped out from all three vehicles, aiming SMGs at Fox and Smith, preparing to open fire.
At the critical moment, Smith kicked the mangled car door off and dragged Fox out of the car.
Rat-tat-tat!
Bullets shredded the driver's seat, turning the already damaged car into a wreck.
Smith pulled Fox under the wheel area to shield from the bullets.
"I'll deal with them," he said.
As Smith moved to fight, Fox reached for her weapon stored in the glove compartment.
Smith leapt toward the first SUV, delivering a powerful kick to its B-pillar.
Boom!
The SUV flipped over three times before coming to a halt. The occupants were knocked senseless.
The other two SUVs immediately aimed and opened fire.
Smith pulled a short blade from his system backpack and slashed at the incoming bullets.
Clang, clang, clang!
The bullets split mid-air, dropping to the ground harmlessly.
The gunmen froze in disbelief.
"He's a monster! Run! Start the car!" someone shouted.
As they tried to flee, Fox stood up with dual pistols and fired.
Rat-tat-tat!
Each shot was a headshot. The gunners died instantly.
Even the drivers weren't spared—each received a bullet to the head.
The flipped SUV's survivors—only three out of four—staggered out.
Smith rushed forward, grabbed one man by the throat, and lifted him up.
"Who sent you?"
Cough, cough…
The man's face turned red, unable to speak.
Smith twisted his neck and tossed him aside, then turned to another.
"Who do you work for?"
One man tried to run, but was shot in the back of the head by Fox.
Only one terrified gunman remained.
"We're with the Russian mob. Viggo's men."
Hearing this, Smith beheaded him on the spot.
"Viggo, you've signed your death warrant."
Fox approached, leaning on Smith.
"Damn John Wick, making us clean up his mess."
Smith held her tightly. The earlier crash had clearly injured her. If not for the car's structure and their quick reaction, they could've died.
Smith pulled out his phone and called the Assassin's League.
"This is Cleaner. I need a crew at Klein Avenue intersection—12 bodies and three cars."
After hanging up, Smith carried Fox to an SUV, threw out the dead driver, seated her, and drove off toward the textile factory.
As for the Russian mob—they no longer had a place in New York.
Not only would Viggo die, but the entire Russian mob would be eradicated.
--------------------------------------------------------
Elsewhere...
At the Assassin League's textile factory HQ, the gates opened. The cleaners, with garbage trucks, headed toward Klein Avenue to clean the scene before
police could arrive.
...
[End of Chapter]
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