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Generally, while Morin liked to show off, he wouldn't do it to this extent, nor would he risk his subordinates' lives for it.
But this time, he wasn't just showing off.
This battle, this particular fight, was of vital importance to the Temple Knights.
Without any prior announcement, it was the first direct confrontation between the Temple Knights and the forces of the High Table.
And it was a large-scale battle, in front of the world, to make a name for themselves!
Thirty minutes on the road.
It was a bloodbath.
With every step forward, several assassins tried to make a move, but in the very next second, they would be found and killed by the Temple Knights hidden in the crowd.
The assassins who fell on the roadside did not cause a panic among passersby. They had long grown used to the presence of assassins, to the point of indifference.
The police chose to ignore it, the government chose to look the other way. What could ordinary people do?
It wasn't that no one, after their loved ones were killed, didn't think of revenge. But not everyone was a movie protagonist. Not everyone was John Wick or Wesley Gibson.
Not everyone could take down over four hundred people by themselves for a dog, nor could everyone take down an organization that had existed for over a thousand years, filled with cheats.
With the constant threat to their lives from assassins, the indifference of society, and the loopholes in the law, ordinary people could only watch. Just watch.
But the seeds of hatred would always be planted.
Over all these years, how many dark seeds of hatred had been planted?
Morin observed his surroundings, using his wrench from time to time to knock down the bullets that were secretly fired at him.
When he saw the look of satisfaction in the eyes of the passersby as they watched the assassins fall, he understood.
The seeds had long since sprouted and become a dark forest.
It was just waiting for him to lead the other Temple Knights and forge it into a new vessel.
...
Thirty minutes. No more, no less.
Morin perfectly fulfilled his promise, bringing Eyre to the entrance of the New York Continental Hotel and escorting him inside.
He left behind a bloody trail.
Although staying at the Continental Hotel required a certain statusļæ½that is, "swearing allegiance to the High Table"ļæ½and one had to be either an assassin or a member of another organization, since the manager Winston was already on their side, there was no need to worry.
All people or organizations that used the High Table's services naturally had to acknowledge its authority and become its affiliates. This was why the High Table's power was spread throughout the entire underground world.
"You really..." Winston sighed. "The assassins of the New York Continental Hotel have been reduced by twenty percent in just thirty minutes."
"Only twenty percent?" Morin countered.
"That's in terms of total numbers. If you consider the assassins' rankings and activity levels, it's closer to half," Winston's sighs were nonstop. "To say the bodies are piled high is no exaggeration."
"It's a perfect and fitting debut for the Temple Knights," Morin said with a smile. "Alright, they're not our people anyway, so it doesn't hurt when they die. Besides, their deaths were so valuable, weren't they?"
"That may be true," Winston nodded. "But having been the Continental Hotel manager for over forty years, this sudden change is a bit hard to get used to."
"You're still the hotel manager now; you just have a second job," Morin said with a chuckle, standing up. "I'll leave this to you for now. I'm going to take care of the other matter. By the way, has the bounty increased?"
"Of course," Winston smiled. "The Continental Hotel never loses. I'm guessing the High Table is also preparing for a judgment... they'll probably be here soon."
"The High Table wants something, the Continental Hotel wants money, and the Temple Knights want lives. They have it tough, but then again, who told them to always break the rules?"
"In life and in business, you have to follow the rules..."
Before he could finish, the hotel door closed once more.
The debut had only just begun.
...
"What?"
Inside the conference room, the men looked at each other with blank expressions.
They were the CEOs of the pharmaceutical companies who had been pushed to the brink by the Eyre Group's dropping drug prices and had chosen to become affiliates of the High Table in order to get the right to put a bounty on Eyre.
They were gathered, preparing to celebrate their success and discuss how to divide up the distribution channels monopolized by the Eyre Group.
However, just as they enthusiastically finished dividing everything, they received a call from the Continental Hotel.
"Why didn't they succeed?" one of the CEOs asked. "Shouldn't this be their mistake?"
"The Continental Hotel doesn't reason with us. Once the number of losses exceeds a certain threshold, they'll demand we pay more," said the CEO who took the call.
"In just thirty minutes, the New York Continental Hotel lost twenty percent of its assassins. This is a price they can't afford, so they're demanding we increase the bounty."
"...How much do they want us to add?" another CEO asked with a frown.
"Ten million dollars, and it will only increase from here..."
"How is that possible? We don't have that much liquid capital!"
"They don't care about that..."
"Alright, since we've already gone down this path and the consequences are this severe, we can't just back out now," a CEO said. "Everyone, sell some assets and prepare to..."
"Knock, knock, knock!"
As they were talking, the conference room door was knocked on. A subordinate announced, "A representative from the High Table has arrived."
"The High Table!"
The CEOs' faces suddenly turned ashen.
Not only had the Continental Hotel sent a message, but the High Table had sent a representative as well!
One could only imagine the gravity of the situation.
After a moment, an elegant representative in high heels entered the room.
"I am a High Table adjudicator," the representative said in a cold voice. "Due to your direct actions, the registered assassins of the New York Continental Hotel have suffered over twenty percent losses."
"This wasn't our fault. It was the Continental Hotel's incompetence, and the Continental Hotel has already..." one of the CEOs began to argue.
"I am not here to negotiate with you, gentlemen. I am here to announce the verdict," the representative said, glancing around the room. "The Eye of the Hawk, and the Continental Hotel will all face their due judgment, but before that, it is for you."
"Prepare to pack your things. Forty percent of all your companies' assets will be handed over to the High Table as compensation for this huge loss. The deadline is within ten days."
"To reiterate, gentlemen, this is not a negotiation."
The adjudicator put the contract down, turned, and left.
"It is a judgment."
...
The adjudicator got into her special car and was about to leave to complete her remaining tasks when a bullet stopped her.
A bulletproof window was nothing more than a thin sheet of paper against an armor-piercing round. The driver lay slumped in the driver's seat, blood flowing from the hole that had suddenly appeared between his eyebrows.
The adjudicator sat still in her seat, motionless, her face pale with shock.
The climax of the Temple Knights' debut had only just begun!
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