The moment killing intent rose in Ryan's heart, John Wick felt his entire body go numb.
Enveloped by the killing aura of a Foundation Establishment cultivator, even a seasoned assassin like John Wick felt as though he had fallen into a sea of blood and corpses in Hell itself.
"My Lord, please allow me to put down my gun before speaking."
As someone who had brushed against the supernatural through his connections with the Dark Dimension, John Wick understood immediately that resistance was suicide.
After all, this world wasn't simply the world of John Wick.
In this fusion reality of countless movie universes, the true masters behind the international assassin network known as the Continental Hotel were the Dark Council — an organization filled with beings far beyond the realm of mortals.
The Night Demon might have been feared at the New York Continental, but in the eyes of the Dark Council, he was just another pawn.
On the rooftop, John Wick carefully set his firearm down, then removed all his weapons and tactical gear.
Finally, he knelt on one knee, his posture humble and defenseless before Ryan.
Ryan looked at the familiar assassin with mild amusement.
"John Wick... you're a little different from what I imagined. Strong will to live, huh?"
"Yes, My Lord. My beloved still needs me."
"I heard you retired from the underworld a few years ago. What made you take this contract to kill me?"
"It was a Blood Oath, My Lord. And... I needed Undying Blood to save her."
John's tone was calm, sincere — without a trace of deceit.
Ryan already knew of the Undying Blood.
A special potion distributed by the Dark Council through the Continental, it could keep a dying person alive... by turning them into a Dark Creature.
Vampires, werewolves, liches — creatures that could no longer walk in sunlight. And yet, under the threat of death, countless people still sought it out.
That was why the Dark Council and their underworld networks could exist semi-openly in the human world.
Many in power would rather lose their humanity than face the inevitability of death.
Just like John Wick.
His wife was dying. To save her, he had no choice but to re-enter the underworld and take this job from the Russian Mafia — a job that led him straight to Ryan.
Looking at the once-fearsome Night Demon kneeling before him, Ryan felt a strange flicker of emotion.
Before transmigrating, he had genuinely liked the John Wick films. Killing him here felt... wasteful.
After all, John Wick's combat ability was comparable to Frank's before the latter had pledged loyalty to him — and unlike most, John had real experience navigating the world's darkest networks.
And above all, John Wick was pragmatic. Even when Ryan had purposely shown a gap earlier, he hadn't taken the shot.
Whether by intuition or sheer luck, that restraint had saved his life.
Ryan smiled faintly. "John Wick... do you wish to save your wife? To free her from the pain of illness — to let her live under the sun again, not as a Dark Creature?"
John Wick's body trembled, his eyes lighting with desperate hope.
The Undying Blood was infamous for its curse. It could defy death, yes, but at the cost of humanity.
If he had any choice at all, John would never let his wife become one of those abominations.
"My Lord... what must I do for you?" he asked quietly.
He knew nothing came free in this world — especially something that toyed with life and death.
Ryan chuckled, casually summoning a jade talisman.
"This talisman holds the Seal of the Spring Rejuvenation Charm," he said. "It can cure any illness in the world. Accept it, and you will serve me — until your final breath."
"You may refuse. But once accepted, betrayal is impossible."
"Even death will not free you from its consequences."
"Believe me — not even Heaven or Hell can stop what follows."
His words weren't loud, but they carried a power that resonated through heaven and earth, shaking the soul itself.
Yet despite that pressure, John Wick hesitated for only two breaths before taking the talisman with both hands.
"My Lord, I will serve you — with loyalty and my life."
"Good." Ryan's smile deepened. "Then take the head of the one who gave you the order. Do that, and your oath will be complete."
"As you command, My Lord."
John Wick bowed deeply, clutching the jade talisman. When he looked up again, Ryan was gone — vanished into thin air.
The assassin stood there for a long moment, half in awe, half in disbelief, before silently tidying up the rooftop and disappearing into the night.
Ryan, meanwhile, didn't bother watching him leave.
Once the jade talisman had been accepted, John Wick's body and soul were already bound to him.
What drew his attention now was something else — a strange, sinister aura rising from the distance.
The Green Hat Nightclub.
With a faint smile, Ryan used the Five Ghosts Transporting Technique. In a blink, he crossed space itself and reappeared before the nightclub.
The once-bustling place was now a warzone — bullet holes riddled the walls, smoke hung in the air, and corpses littered the floor.
"This scene..." Ryan smirked. "Frank really hasn't changed. Still as brutal as ever."
Following the cold, malevolent energy through the wreckage, Ryan descended into the nightclub's basement.
There, on the second sublevel, he found it — a chamber formed entirely of converging blood, pulsating with dark, ritualistic energy.