Any assassin or High Table member within one thousand meters of his daughter was a target for Caine's hunt.
However, this time Caine did not eliminate the targets directly from the shadows. It was time for his daughter to face certain realities.
He could not protect her forever. Now that he possessed the power of cultivation and an unknown lifespan, he felt it necessary to bring his daughter onto this path as well. He did not want to remain young a hundred years from now while his daughter had already grown old and frail.
Most importantly, Caine now felt terrifyingly powerful, capable of solving any problem.
His strength was already sufficient to destroy the entire High Table, and the only reason he had not acted was to wait for a legitimate excuse.
Even after gaining extraordinary power, he still did not wish to antagonize the forces behind the High Table.
But now, the lords of the High Table had handed him the knife themselves.
Perfect.
It would finally allow him to deal with these scoundrels who never followed their own rules.
The moment his daughter's door was kicked open by High Table members; Caine drew his sword-cane.
With a speed no assassin could react to, the blade pierced through their throats and bodies.
Clang—
Caine flicked the blood from his sword-cane with elegant ease before sliding the blade back into its sheath.
Then he traced a symbol in the air and infused it into each corpse.
The bodies on the ground immediately began to glow faintly with silver light, transforming into spiritual energy before dissipating without a trace.
"Daddy!"
Caine's daughter, Mia, burst into tears and threw herself into his arms the moment she saw him.
Although scenes like this had happened countless times before, whenever the High Table encountered difficulties and needed her father's help, they would imprison her without hesitation.
But that did not make it any less terrifying.
Every time it happened, the fear and helplessness carved deeper scars into her heart.
Even though she was nearly thirty years old, she still lived an isolated life.
She dared not make friends.
She dared not talk to strangers.
She feared implicating innocent people.
"Don't worry, Mia," Caine said softly. "Daddy will bring our freedom back this time."
The killing intent in his eyes was practically overflowing.
As a doting father, nothing was more infuriating than seeing his daughter cry.
The High Table members must all die.
He would kill anyone who dared to disturb Mia's life.
…
…
Meanwhile, after Caine dealt with the assassins sent by the High Table, the organization immediately issued a bounty.
Fifty million dollars.
Capture alive only.
It was clear they were willing to spend a fortune to bring Caine in.
"Tsk."
Caine scoffed in disdain.
Why were they always so arrogant and conceited?
He then took Mia to one of his safe houses.
After leaving her with a Dao Seed and the Soul Dantian Method, Caine began his furious retaliation against the High Table.
Following signal data, Caine directly targeted the High Table's Internal Affairs Department.
This department housed all the High Table's archives.
To avoid hacking and digital tracking, every piece of equipment there was from the 1970s.
All records were kept on paper.
But Caine still located the department using brief phone signals and bounty dial-ups.
As long as a signal existed, even if the department relied on telegraphs to send messages, it could not escape Caine's perception.
Once Caine obtained all the High Table's internal information, he took the roster and began hunting them down—family by family, from beginning to end.
As the saying goes:
"The bones of nobles are trampled upon the streets, and the heads of the powerful hang upon the gates."
Those damned councilors treated low-level assassins as less than human.
For profit and power, they forced them to kneel and bow whenever they met their so-called superiors.
What feudal garbage.
Caine had endured their oppression for far too long.
So long that he had almost forgotten how to resist.
He had even surrendered his eyes to them and crippled himself in order to withdraw from the High Table.
And yet they still refused to leave him alone.
They continued threatening him with his daughter.
So today—
He would learn from that "General Soaring to the Heavens."
He would carve out a brand-new world.
He would slaughter those aristocratic families to the last.
He would show them the traditional craftsmanship of the Dragon Kingdom's ancestors:
Exterminate ten generations of their kin.
…
…
Caine wore an elegant suit and carried only a noble black sword-cane plated with silver.
Yet with such simple equipment, every assassin who came for the bounty fell beneath his blade.
None of the assassins or special forces controlled by the twelve High Table councilors could withstand even a single strike.
Caine moved through a hail of bullets like drifting duckweed upon water, strolling calmly through the storm of gunfire.
While effortlessly dodging every incoming bullet, he occasionally swung his blade.
Each swing produced an invisible arc of sword qi.
Under Caine's blade, whether it was military-grade bulletproof armor or the most advanced ballistic suits, everything was torn apart like thin paper.
At that moment, Caine resembled a graceful gentleman.
But he harvested the lives of those arrogant councilors with ruthless precision, turning slaughter into an art.
For centuries, the members of the High Table had believed killing was meaningless.
After all, the High Table was the god of the dark world.
No one could challenge the authority of a god.
Kill one elder, and another would replace him.
Destroy a group of councilors, and new ones would rise to take their places.
But today—
Caine would prove that killing was useful.
Because he would call out every High Table executive by name.
He would kill until no one dared serve as a councilor.
Until no one dared become an elder.
Until the High Table trembled in fear at the mere mention of his name.
He would make them understand the price of threatening his daughter.
One family.
Two families.
Three families.
When the third councilor's entire family was slaughtered without a single survivor, even their friends were dragged out and killed.
Their dogs and pets were slaughtered.
Even their eggs were scrambled.
At last, the High Table councilors could no longer sit still.
The bounty was immediately raised to eighty million dollars, with no restriction on alive or dead.
Assassins around the world erupted with excitement.
Eighty million dollars.
Dead or alive.
Countless desperadoes gathered for the enormous reward.
All for the chance to take Caine's life.
At the Continental Hotel's New York branch, John Wick, who had just killed a High Table elder and returned from the desert, looked completely stunned.
"What the hell is going on?"
Manager Winston shrugged, his face filled with schadenfreude.
"The High Table councilors provoked the wrong man."
"Caine went berserk."
"He slaughtered his way through the Internal Affairs Department, stole the list of councilor families, and now he's calling them out one by one."
Winston spread his hands.
"There's nothing left for us to do."
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