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Chapter 53: The Way to Endure the Battle
A bizarre rumor had been circulating recently in New York's underworld and red-light district. According to the rumor, a superhuman figure—dubbed 'The Divine Figure'—had challenged all the major private clubs and high-end brothels in New York City over the course of a day and a night. He had apparently put the highly skilled service providers through a rigorous, non-stop experience. Even a top female provider in the industry publicly stated that this single experience was enough for her to "savor for ten years." Throughout the entire grueling process, this divine figure did not rest; aside from the brief necessity of traveling, he was practically non-stop.
No one had seen his face, nor did anyone know his name, because the figure wore a Batman mask from beginning to end. Even when settling the bills, he used cash, completely concealing his identity.
The news spread, immediately causing a strong cultural impact and attracting the attention of many public figures. Even high-ranking executives at DC Comics reportedly discussed in a meeting room whether to ride the wave of popularity and have their editors create a special Batman issue. Far away in Los Angeles, Tony Stark received the news. He publicly called out to the media, offering a high annual salary of three million dollars to hire that "Batman" as his personal health assistant. Unfortunately, no matter how much the outside world clamored, that "Batman" never appeared. It seemed as if the news was false, as if such a person had never truly existed in the world.
New York. A high-end steakhouse.
At this moment, Tommy Vercetti was eating like a hungry wolf who hadn't eaten for days. With a tearing sound, a fried chicken leg was savagely gnawed down. Then, his mouth opened and closed, and an entire steak disappeared from the table. He ate quickly and volumetrically, without any regard for table manners. It was as if today were the last day of his life, as if he wouldn't have another chance to eat if he didn't do it now.
Of course, there was a compelling reason for his behavior. Before coming to the steakhouse, he had expended a prodigious amount of energy, thanks to his newly acquired Super Stamina ability, and now urgently needed a massive protein supplement to replenish his exhausted physical reserves.
In less than a few minutes, all the dishes on the table were devoured. He waved his hand, called the waiter, and asked him to bring him another, identical serving according to the previous menu.
It was at this moment that his phone on the table suddenly vibrated a few times, and a text message notification appeared on the screen.
"He's here."
The text message was simple and did not reveal too much information. But upon seeing the sender's name—John Wick—Tommy Vercetti immediately knew what was happening on the other end of the line.
New York suburbs. A secluded detached villa.
John Wick sat in the living room, looking across the table at his visitor, his expression becoming subtly strange.
"That guy really was right," John Wick thought.
Indeed, the person who appeared before him at this moment was his old acquaintance, Santino from Italy. And Santino's intention was exactly as Tommy Vercetti had warned: to hire him to kill someone in Italy.
According to the pre-arranged plan, John Wick deliberately put on a difficult, closed-off expression, indicating that he would not accept the mission.
But Santino was not a man to give up easily. "Listen, John, I didn't want to come here either," he smoothly lied, reaching into his tailored suit, pulling out a heavy, intricately detailed metal disc, and gently placing it on the table. "It is with a heavy heart that I ask for your help. However, there's one thing you mustn't forget: the reason you were able to retire is because of my assistance that day. Without my help, you wouldn't have been able to complete the mission, nor would you be sitting here, leisurely drinking coffee."
John Wick knew very well what he was referring to. Many years ago, in order to retire from the assassin world, he had accepted a commission from Vigo Tarasov, the boss of the Russian Gang, to complete an impossible mission. The difficulty was naturally immense. Even a legendary assassin like him had expended a lot of energy, sustained severe injuries, and almost died by the roadside. Just when he was at his absolute weakest, Santino had suddenly appeared, extended a helping hand, and saved his life. For this single act, he owed the other party a life debt, forming a Blood Oath—the metal disc now resting on the table—representing soul and blood.
"John, I think you should be very clear about the price of breaking a Blood Oath." Santino smiled, confident that he held the absolute upper hand. He certainly thought he would win. The Blood Oath was the highest level of commitment in the assassin world. Anyone who dared to defy it would be hunted by the entire community. John Wick was highly skilled, but he was still just a mortal; it was absolutely impossible for him to defeat the entire High Table by himself.
Considering this inescapable fact, Santino believed that John would definitely not refuse him. And as he expected, John Wick, sitting opposite him, remained silent for a long time, but ultimately, with profound reluctance, extended a hand and took the Blood Oath into his palm.
Seeing his action, Santino revealed a triumphant, satisfied smile. "Very good, John, you've made the right choice." Since John had already agreed, Santino immediately began to explain the mission in detail. "I want you to kill my sister."
"You want what?" John Wick feigned surprise. His acting was not very good, and his expression was far from convincing. However, he had always maintained an unchanging poker face, which luckily masked his poor performance.
"When my father passed away, he passed the High Table seat to her…" Unaware of anything amiss, Santino chattered on, painting himself as the victim. In his warped description, the High Table seat should have belonged to him, but Gianna used schemes and tricks to snatch it. Therefore, he was determined to retaliate, kill Gianna, and reclaim what was rightfully his.
"I know what to do, but I can't bring myself to do it. Gianna… she is, after all, my relative, my sister," Santino said, forcing a look of pain.
Looking at the transparently hypocritical Santino, John Wick was thinking about the implications. Gianna was a member of the High Table. Killing that woman would undoubtedly lead to him being punished by the organization and placed back on the hit list. Moreover, to destroy the evidence, Santino would also immediately send assassins to kill him.
But what if he refused? The result would still be the same; having violated the Blood Oath, he would still end up on the organization's blacklist. This seemed like a complete dead end. No matter whether he agreed or refused, the final outcome would be a lack of peace and a death warrant.
However, Santino would never have thought that besides these two catastrophic paths, John Wick now had a third option: the script Tommy Vercetti had written.
Thinking of this, John Wick secretly shook his head. Santino was self-righteous, believing he could control everyone in the world. Little did he know that in the shadows of New York, someone had already guessed his entire scheme and woven a large net, just waiting for Santino to seek his own demise and walk right into it.
Thinking about it, John Wick concluded, this guy is really a bit pitiful.