The next morning, Anton arrived in Los Angeles.
Los Angeles, home to Hollywood, was a place teeming with celebrities. The reporters here were even more relentless than their counterparts in New York.
A group of people, cameras at the ready, were openly camped out at the airport's exit, waiting for Anton to appear.
With their connections, they knew Anton's next destination as soon as he boarded a plane.
Even private jets were no exception; someone was always on their payroll.
Not only were the regular exits covered, but the VIP exits were also guarded. Anton had no idea how these reporters had gotten inside.
Every exit had eyes watching.
Los Angeles reporters were the kings of information in Los Angeles.
Everywhere, above ground or below, from the smallest gossip to international events, the presence of reporters was evident.
"Fire everyone on the plane and replace them with a new crew."
Anton's expression was grim. After he stopped, he surveyed the surroundings and saw the reporters at the entrance, looking longingly. He was extremely troubled.
He knew that the employees on his private plane must have leaked his information.
"Understood."
Betty nodded. "Do you want me to call the airport security?"
"Yes, call them."
Anton sighed. He really didn't know what to do about these reporters, and he lacked experience dealing with them.
As the behind-the-scenes boss of the Horn Daily, he knew better than anyone that if he answered anything here, he could easily become the headline the next day.
No doubt, he had that kind of fame now.
A few minutes later.
Surrounded by a group of security guards, Anton got into his car and left, giving the reporters no chance.
During this process, a group of reporters, frantically pushing forward, shoved their cameras in Anton's face, as if they didn't need to ask anything.
The group followed Anton's car to a mansion near Los Angeles.
"What's he doing here?"
A reporter was surprised.
"The party."
The other person replied, "Jim moved the celebration party up to eight o'clock tonight. Anton is here in Los Angeles just for this party."
"What?"
This person was surprised, "Shouldn't the party be tomorrow?"
"It was moved up a day, and you didn't even know? You should just quit and go home to take care of your baby. This line of work isn't for you."
His colleague gave him a look of disdain, as if he were looking at a piece of trash.
Time quickly passed from early morning to evening.
Having gotten enough rest and feeling refreshed, Anton drove to the party venue.
The woman in the passenger seat was his personal assistant, Betty.
The reporter, seeing this, followed along eagerly.
Meanwhile, in New York.
Under Sloan's orders, members of the Brotherhood appeared near the Empire State Building.
Among them were Fox Fox, the Mechanic, the Gunsmith, Mr. X, Pesticide, and the Butcher.
Almost the entire internal force was mobilized to deal with Carlos.
They were the world's top assassins.
The reason everyone was mobilized was because they knew how difficult Carlos was to deal with.
Carlos, once a comrade, was a mythical figure within the Brotherhood, never failing a mission and admired by countless peers.
His terrifying Gun-Fu made the Brotherhood's own members tremble in fear.
Even the assassins under the High Table considered Carlos to be one of the most difficult people in the world to kill.
He ranked even higher than Sloan.
Frankly speaking, although John Wick was known as the King of Killers in New York, he definitely couldn't handle Carlos in a direct comparison. At best, he'd be comparable to Fox Fox.
After all, if John Wick could take down Carlos, the High Table wouldn't be so wary of the Brotherhood.
But what these Brotherhood members didn't know was that their actions were being watched from beginning to end by a pair of eyes shimmering with red light.
Whoosh!
A towering figure hid in the darkness, with two long, pointed ears on their head, resembling a humanoid rabbit.
Los Angeles, party time.
One after another, big names arrived at the party venue, attending the celebration held because Shadow Mystery had surpassed $600 million in global box office revenue.
Reporters continuously snapped photos.
The flashes of the cameras added a touch of revelry to the party.
Of course, the reporters were kept outside the doors, at most taking pictures through them, straining their necks to see inside.
A very small number of female reporters linked arms with "big shots," swaggering into the party venue, drawing envious, jealous, and hateful glances from countless male reporters.
Anton, as one of the main figures of this party, stood at the door greeting these big names.
Familiar faces, and some not so familiar.
In this moment, everyone felt like old friends reunited after many years.
Beside Anton stood Jim Lambert, who had returned to the front ranks of producers thanks to Shadow Mystery.
Jim was in high spirits, having shaken off the doldrums of the previous years.
"When are you planning to film the second Batman movie?"
Seeing that most of the guests had arrived, Jim finally found the time to chat with Anton about business.
"It's already in the planning stages."
Anton replied, "Besides Batman, I have some other projects I'm preparing to push forward simultaneously. Jim, what do you think about the matter Betty asked you about?"
"You're saying I should join your newly established DC Company?"
Jim hesitated. "This concerns my future career plans, so I need more time to consider it."
"No problem, but my patience is limited."
Anton said calmly, "You know, Hollywood isn't just about you as a producer. Everyone is eager."
Jim's expression changed slightly, and he said seriously, "I understand. I'll give you an answer as soon as possible."
"Alright, let's go inside."
Anton changed the subject, "Everyone who needs to be here is here. It's time to proceed with the next event."
After saying that, he walked towards the crowd.
Jim pondered for a moment, looking at Anton in the crowd, and gave a slight, wry smile before following.
Another ten minutes passed.
Anton's eyes flickered.
At this moment, if someone were to observe his pupils, they would find that he seemed to be seeing another image.
This image didn't belong to the party, but to a deep, profound darkness.
New York, Empire State Building.
Carlos, disguised as a cleaner, moved through the corridors.
This final battle, it wasn't so much that the Brotherhood discovered his location, but rather that he deliberately exposed himself, aiming to deal a devastating blow to the Brotherhood's top assassins after making thorough preparations.
Years of being hunted had left him weary of this life.
He was prepared to eliminate the Brotherhood's elite in one fell swoop.
Either he died, or they did.
Click!
Suddenly, all the lights inside the Empire State Building went out, the power having been cut.
However, power outages were common at night, so it didn't attract anyone's attention, except for Carlos, who furrowed his brow.
It seemed the Brotherhood's people had entered the Empire State Building.
As for the Brotherhood's group, seeing all the lights above them extinguished, they were also taken aback, believing this was Carlos' doing.
Neither side knew that a third party had appeared in this decisive battle.
And this third party was secretly observing everyone.
------------------------
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