The convoy left Manhattan, rolled across the Brooklyn Bridge, and headed north into upstate New York—Oswego County.
Not long after, the cars slowed to a stop.
In Alex's line of sight stood a familiar little house straight out of the films.
"So this is it… Wick bought this place even before he met his wife."
He stepped out, taking in the modest home. Alex had to admit—John Wick had good taste.
After a quiet moment, he gestured.
One of his men walked up and knocked. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The door opened.
And there he was.
John Wick. Black suit, one hand hidden behind his back, the other gripping the doorknob with quiet tension.
Following Alex's instructions, the killer at the door exchanged a few words with him, then returned.
"Mr. Cross, he says he's not interested."
Alex glanced up at the man about to shut the door. His voice rang out, clear and direct:
"Mr. Wick—two million dollars. Until this time tomorrow. You don't have to fire a single shot or lift a single finger. All I need is your presence."
At his signal, two men hauled twin metal cases out of the trunk and dropped them open on the ground—cash, stacked high.
John's hand froze on the door. His eyes fell to the money.
Then, without a word, he opened the door wider, stepped out, lifted both cases, and carried them inside.
Moments later, he reemerged and slid silently into the back seat of Alex's car.
As expected. Before Helen, John Wick answered to one master—money.
The convoy turned back toward New York City. Inside, the silence was heavy.
John sat in the passenger seat, expression calm, gaze fixed out the window. A man of few words.
Alex didn't bother with pleasantries. Between them there was no friendship—only business.
His purpose was simple: tie John Wick to his side, and later bring in Caine as well. If both legends were sitting with him, then neither could be hired by the Camorra.
Because with Alex's current power, either man could end him without effort.
But he had confidence. Someday, he believed, John Wick would kneel before him—and swear loyalty.
That thought steadied his mind. He looked at Wick's back for a moment, then turned inward, pulling up his system interface.
System Backpack: five slots, four already occupied.
[Discount Voucher ×1]
[Talent Recruitment Scroll (Blue) ×2]
[Bulletproof Suit ×8]
[Intermediate Weapon Crate ×38]
He checked the marketplace. Only two discount items remained unpurchased:
[Assassin Recruitment Scroll (Green) ×50] — 15 coins
[Assassin Training Camp LV1] — 30 coins
Given the current crisis, Alex pulled out the discount voucher and slipped it into his pocket. Then he spent 45 coins to buy both items outright.
After that, like a gambler chasing luck, he whispered:
"System—spend one coin to refresh the discount shop."
The screen shifted. He spent another. A fresh set of offers appeared:
Bulletproof Suit ×50 – Kevlar weave, from five years into the John Wick world's future. Auto-fit on first wear. Value: 2 coins (special 80% discount).
Physique Recovery Serum ×1 – Restores body to peak condition instantly. Effects vary by user. Value: 5 coins (special 50% discount).
Strength Elixir (Green) ×1 – Increases muscle density, minor boost in raw strength. Value: 10 coins (special 70% discount).
Assassin Recruitment Scroll (White) ×100 – Summons 100 basic assassins, no talents, uniform abilities. Value: 20 coins (special 80% discount).
Assassin Recruitment Scroll (Gold) ×1 – Summons a gold-rank assassin from another film world, absolute loyalty guaranteed. Value: 100 coins (special 90% discount).
"Yes!"
The instant Alex saw the gold scroll, he couldn't help but shout aloud.
Excitement broke through the silence of the car.
Anna smiled at his sudden joy, almost glowing with his energy.
Only John Wick shifted his gaze—briefly, a glance in Alex's direction. Then he turned back to the window.
But on the glass, in the faint reflection, the corner of John Wick's mouth had curved ever so slightly upward.