Elsewhere—
John Wick had just been attacked in his own home. Dragged from sleep, beaten with baseball bats, the legendary assassin once known as the Boogeyman was caught completely off guard. They even killed his last gift from his deceased wife—his beagle, Lucy—right before his eyes and stole his beloved car.
After the intruders left, John buried his dog in his garden. As he stood over the grave, memories of his late wife Helen came flooding back—her love, her gift—and his decision became clear:
He would answer violence with violence.
Once he identified the attackers, John returned to his home with purpose—to unearth the weapons and Continental coins he had sealed beneath his house.
Bang. Bang. Bang!
With each swing of the sledgehammer, John shattered the concrete floor beneath him, each strike heavier than the last as he relived the day's agony.
Soon, the broken cement revealed a hidden cache. Tossing the hammer aside, he crouched down and swept away the rubble.
Inside the box were two sections.
On the left: four pistols, four magazines, four grenades—two smoke, two explosive—and two of the pistols fitted with silencers.
On the right: a crate full of Continental coins, and in the center of them—the One-Star Dragon Ball.
John furrowed his brow. If memory served, when he retired, he had placed a smooth round stone in that very spot.
He distinctly remembered Helen had found it at the beach and given it to him as a keepsake.
"Did Helen… secretly replace it?"
John murmured aloud.
It didn't make sense. Still puzzled, he reached out to touch the amber-colored crystal sphere.
At the Assassin Brotherhood Headquarters—
Smith Dole was attending a meeting when a message suddenly echoed in his mind.
Someone already touched a Dragon Ball?
Let's see who the lucky one is holding my One-Star Ball.
As the creator of the Dragon Balls, Smith could track the location of all seven. He could also see visions through the balls when someone made contact.
Moments later, Smith saw the surrounding environment of the One-Star Ball—along with the man holding it: John Wick.
Watching the vision in his mind, Smith's eyes narrowed.
"So it's that guy... the Boogeyman of the Continental Hotel—John Wick. Looks like the Russian mob in New York is about to get wiped out."
"Poor bastard. Guess I'll throw him a little hope."
The moment Smith made that decision, the One-Star Ball in John's hand glowed briefly, and a surge of information flowed into his mind.
"Dragon Ball?"
"Gather all seven to summon Shenron and make a wish…"
Looking at the single star inside the crystal, John murmured:
"So this is the One-Star Ball?"
"If this is all real… Helen, could I bring you back?"
He carefully tucked the ball into his pocket. Before searching for the others, there was another score to settle.
He still had doubts about the Dragon Ball legend. After all, he'd never heard of anything like it before now.
Back at the Brotherhood—
Cross spoke:
"GOD, we're preparing your first mission. Consider it your debut as the new head of the Assassin Brotherhood."
Mr. X added:
"It won't be a simple solo hit. The target is an entire evil organization."
The Gunsmith glanced at them both:
"Fellas, don't you think a whole organization might be a bit much?"
The Butcher offered a compromise:
"How about GOD handles the leader, and the rest of the Brotherhood takes care of the high-level personnel?"
Smith nodded calmly:
"No problem on my end. Let's make it an organization."
"So, uncles, have you picked which evil group I'll be taking down?"
Mr. X replied:
"We're still gathering intel. Once we've narrowed it down, you'll get to choose."
Smith raised an eyebrow—so it was going to be a multiple-choice test, huh? He wondered which villainous faction it would be this time.
"Alright then, I've got some errands to run. Let me know when it's ready."
With that, Smith Dole walked out of the meeting room. He spotted Fox sitting on a nearby couch and called out:
"Fox, we're heading out."
She stood and followed. Soon, a sleek black Dodge Viper roared out of the textile factory.
As she drove, Fox asked:
"Where to, Smith?"
Gazing at the rising sun, he replied:
"We're making a stop at the Continental Hotel. You still have some of their coins, right?"
Fox blinked, confused:
"I've got a few left. Picked them up during missions against some of their affiliates."
"Wait, you're not planning to go after them, are you? The two of us can't take them head-on."
Smith chuckled:
"Nah. I'm just taking you to watch a good show."
"Don't worry—I wouldn't storm the Continental with just you."
Fox smirked, intrigued. She pressed down on the gas pedal.
Elsewhere—
The phone at John Wick's house began to ring.
Riiing... Riiing...
He answered. A familiar voice came through the line.
"Hello, John."
It was Viggo, the Russian mob boss. The same man whose son had assaulted John.
John stayed silent.
Viggo continued:
"I heard about your wife. I'm sorry for your loss."
"My condolences."
"It's fate... or perhaps a coincidence."
"Or maybe just bad luck that we've crossed paths again."
Still no reply.
Viggo spoke again:
"John?"
"Let's not give in to our darker impulses. Let's resolve this like civilized men."
John ended the call without another word.
He already knew the truth—the one who stole his car and killed his dog was none other than the son of his former boss.
Viggo, hearing the click of the call ending, sighed. He turned to his men.
"Get the team ready."
(End of Chapter)
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