Chapter 50: Loss of Face
Inside the Red Circle Club, Iosef Tarasov was indulging in debauchery in a lavish private members' room. As his name suggested, he was the son of Vigo Tarasov, the now-deceased head of the Russian Gang. This unfortunate young man, completely unaware of his father's fate, was frolicking happily with two women in the indoor pool.
Besides Iosef, numerous bodyguards were scattered throughout the club. They were hardened members of the Russian Gang, assigned here by Vigo with the main duty of ensuring Iosef's personal safety. It was precisely because of their presence that Iosef, who had caused such a colossal mess, could act as if nothing had happened, enjoying the final moments of his life.
In the shadows, John Wick made his silent entrance.
The bodyguard stationed at the main door was an old acquaintance of his from the High Table network. Seeing John Wick's familiar, grim appearance, the bodyguard made no attempt to resist and calmly opened the door, allowing John to pass easily. His thinking was simple: With such a meager monthly salary, why should I risk my life for Iosef? Besides, even if he truly fought to the death, he would not be a match for John Wick, that harbinger of death. Rather than dying in vain under a bullet, he might as well pretend to be blind and act as if he saw nothing.
Since the bodyguard was so sensible, John Wick naturally did not open fire. To avoid alerting his target and scaring Iosef away, John initially relied on silence, pulling a small, razor-sharp knife from his sleeve. Upon encountering a bodyguard, he savagely drove the blade into their neck, ensuring a clean, silent kill. Walking and assassinating along the way, he quickly reached the depths of the private area.
After pushing open a large glass door, John Wick finally found Iosef.
Iosef, on the verge of death, was completely unaware of the lurking danger and was still taking clumsy liberties with the beautiful women. Seeing this disgusting scene, John Wick's killing intent—the raw, deep-seated hatred—soared. Stealing his beloved car was bad enough. Beating him up, John could have endured. But Iosef should not have, under any circumstances, brutally killed his beloved dog. That puppy was a gift from his deceased wife, his last tangible connection to her love. It was also because of the existence of that little dog that John still held a thread of hope for life and didn't simply follow his deceased wife into the void. But that bastard Iosef had mercilessly killed the puppy, erasing the last bit of beauty from his desolate life. Therefore, no matter what, John Wick had to kill Iosef to quell the hatred in his heart and to comfort the spirits of his deceased wife and little dog.
Reaching for his silenced pistol, John was about to execute his target. But before he could act, a bodyguard hidden deep in the shadows discovered his presence and rushed forward, tackling him to the ground. John naturally refused to surrender, quickly rising to resist and engaging in a brutal, silent brawl with his enemy.
Although he had tried to move as quickly as possible, the sounds of the struggle still alerted the target.
"All units, we have found John Wick!" In the monitoring room, the frantic bodyguard who noticed the struggle immediately issued a warning over his walkie-talkie.
At the same time, Iosef in the pool also received the terrifying warning from his subordinates. His expression became one of sheer, animal terror; without thinking, he scrambled out of the pool and ran blindly towards the nearest exit.
However, no matter how fast human legs were, how could they possibly outrun bullets? If things had gone normally, Iosef would certainly not have survived the onslaught. However, although this kid's character was trash, his mind was flexible enough for self-preservation; he reached out and violently pulled a nearby female dancer in front of him, using her as a desperate human shield.
For other, less principled assassins, this dirty trick might not have worked. But John Wick was different. He had his own principles and never killed innocent people indiscriminately. Apart from his mission targets, he would never harm women or children. It was precisely because of this principle that Iosef gained precious breathing room and scurried out of the private room.
John Wick, of course, refused to let it go. How could he let the dog killer escape? He was about to give chase when he was violently repelled by a sudden volley of gunfire. Numerous bodyguards, who had rushed over upon hearing the commotion, had him tightly surrounded.
John let out a silent sigh. He had to admit that his skills had declined significantly. After many years of retirement, his agility was no longer what it used to be. If it were his younger self, he would never have allowed Iosef to escape; he would have blown that bastard's head off with a single shot long ago. Unfortunately, the past was gone forever. Just as his beloved dog could not be brought back to life.
Thinking of this, John Wick's heart ached even more, and he looked at the ring of approaching enemies with eyes full of cold, merciless intent. He did not mind killing. Since these guys insisted on seeking death, he would grant them their wish. The faster he dealt with these bodyguards, the faster he could go after Iosef, lest that kid run too far.
Inside the VIP room, gunshots rang out continuously as John Wick engaged the entire cohort of guards.
Outside the Red Circle Club, a bright red Ferrari approached from the distance and parked effortlessly beside the club's main entrance. Two people got out of the sleek car: Tommy Vercetti and Jin. The two walked together towards the club's entrance, ready to survey Tommy's newest asset.
Meanwhile, inside the club, Iosef, fleeing in a panic, happened to be escaping directly towards the door. With one party entering and the other exiting, the two sides almost violently collided. If Tommy Vercetti hadn't been quick-eyed and instinctively kicked the person away in time, Jin would surely have been struck hard and knocked to the ground.
"Damn it!" Taking a kick out of nowhere, the unlucky Iosef fell heavily to the marble floor, his backside aching, and he instinctively cursed loudly in Russian.
It was precisely his curse that completely exposed his identity.
"You are Iosef Tarasov, the son of Vigo, the head of the Russian Gang?" Tommy Vercetti, of course, understood Russian. During his years in prison—which he remembered as Redhaven Prison—besides exercising and diligently practicing martial arts, he had read numerous books, arming his mind with knowledge, including various languages. Leaving aside proper conversational ability, he could at least understand the cursing words.
"Damn it, you know who I am and you're still blocking the way! Get out of the way!" Iosef was entirely disrespectful. He scrambled up, desperate to leave. That harbinger of death was right behind him; if John Wick caught up, he would be completely finished. At this moment, he felt some regret. Of course, he did not regret stealing the car or killing the dog. He regretted why he hadn't killed John Wick outright back then; if he had disposed of John on the spot, why would there be so much trouble today?
However, Iosef did not notice that the man standing calmly in front of him also held a major grudge against him.
"Damn it, are you deaf, or do you not understand English?" Seeing Tommy Vercetti still blocking his path, Iosef, exasperated and cornered, immediately tried to throw a punch. But with his meager, unskilled flailing, how could he possibly touch Tommy Vercetti? Before Iosef could even complete the punch, Tommy raised his leg again and delivered a sharp, powerful kick to Iosef's chest, sending him flying several feet away.
"Damn it!" This time, Iosef fell even harder than before, feeling as if several of his ribs had broken. He lay on the ground, gasping for air, unable to get up again for a long time.
The surrounding guests, seeing his miserable, defeated state, were all pointing and discussing amongst themselves. More importantly, as Iosef fell, the damp towel wrapped precariously around his waist also slipped down. In an instant, his naked, soaked body was completely exposed to the large, laughing crowd. Especially his pitifully small 'thing' was abruptly presented in the air.
This final indignity drew uproarious laughter from the sophisticated onlookers.
"What are you laughing at? What are you all laughing at! Stop looking!" Iosef screamed, humiliated, desperately trying to cover himself.
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