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Mr. X studied the letter in his hand. Its contents revolved entirely around John Wick. The High Table's chief executive, Gramont, requested that the Assassins' Alliance revoke its protection of John Wick. The letter also listed additional violations of High Table rules attributed to him.
This was no empty demand.
The High Table was offering a bounty of three billion dollars.
Mr. X casually tossed the letter onto the table and said flatly,"John Wick has joined the Assassins' Alliance. He is under our control."
"Remember to inform the Marquis that the bounty should be awarded to me."
The messenger's voice sank."Are you certain you want to do this?"
"Because of a murderer who violated the High Table's rules, the peace we've maintained for so many years will be torn apart once again?"
Mr. X looked at the messenger calmly and replied,"Go back and tell your Marquis this: if any assassins come looking for trouble, we will consider it a provocation against the Assassins' Alliance."
"If he wants to hide in his bunker forever, then let the bounty stay where it is."
The messenger fell silent for two seconds before turning and leaving. This decision was beyond his authority—he would have to report it to his superiors.
Mr. X watched him go, casting a contemptuous glance at the name Gramont signed at the bottom of the letter.
That man won't live much longer.
Elsewhere.
The Moroccan Continental Hotel.
Sofia idly toyed with the twin-star orb she had picked up by chance.
The Camorra, however, was still offering a massive reward for it—two hundred million dollars per piece.
She only knew that the object was called a Dragon Ball. She had no idea what it was capable of, but she believed she would eventually learn its secret.
After all, John Wick had a blood oath marker with her.
Now that he was being hunted by the entire world, if he came to Morocco, he would certainly seek her help. When that happened, she might be able to learn more.
If the Dragon Ball had some special use, she could trade it for favors. If it didn't, she could simply sell it to the Camorra. Two hundred million dollars was no small sum.
Before long, Sofia received a text message: one of her men had spotted John Wick at the docks.
Assassins' Alliance — Morocco Branch.
Inside a villa, Wesley asked excitedly,"God, when do we move?"
Smith Doyle ignored the agitated Wesley and turned to Fox beside him."What's our personnel status?"
Fox replied,"The Morocco branch has eighteen assassins. Another twelve have been dispatched from other locations and are expected to arrive tomorrow."
Thirty assassins—plus himself, Wesley, and Fox—made a total of thirty-three. Enough to ensure the complete elimination of everyone at the High Table.
Smith then thought of something else."How are the replicated bulletproof vests we obtained from the Continental?"
Smith Doyle favored the Continental's second-generation bulletproof suits. Made with advanced materials, they could be tailored into elegant suits without appearing bulky, while offering exceptional protection. When struck by a bullet, the entire garment dispersed the impact, with the maximum force being exactly what the wearer could withstand.
"They've been successfully replicated," Fox said, "but the materials are extremely rare. It will take some time before we can equip everyone."
"However, every member of this strike team will be wearing one."
Smith Doyle nodded in satisfaction.
They had entered the Continental both to gather intelligence and eliminate black-suited assassins—but they had also been deeply impressed by its bulletproof technology. The Assassins' Alliance scoffed at the bulky vests on the market, but held the Continental's second-generation suits in very high regard.
With the Alliance's marksmanship combined with these vests, they were nearly unstoppable. Even if struck by gunfire, as long as the head wasn't hit, the damage would be minimal.
As for when to act—there was no rush.
"These elders live deep in the desert and rarely interact with the outside world. Charging blindly into open terrain would be foolish."
"Now we wait for John Wick. Only by bringing him before the elders can we confirm the enemy's headquarters."
"Once we know the location, we strike."
Wesley was stunned."My God… can John Wick really meet the High Table elders?"
Smith Doyle smiled."John Wick is a legend. There will always be members of the old guard willing to recruit him."
Night fell.
John Wick arrived in Casablanca.
He sped toward the Moroccan Continental when, beneath a three-way overpass, he was surrounded once again.
Three assassins appeared, daggers drawn, closing in from all sides.
John Wick chose to strike first.
He lunged forward, dodging left and right to evade the blades. Seizing the opportunity, he grabbed one attacker's wrist, drove a punch into his face, then followed with a crushing elbow strike.
The other two rushed in to assist—but John kicked them both to the ground.
He then turned and slammed the attacker he was holding wrist-first into the pavement.
One of the downed assassins staggered back to his feet and thrust his knife at John Wick.
John reacted instantly, grabbing the man's wrist. The two locked together, struggling for control.
"Enough."
A man's voice cut through the tension.
From beyond the bridge, a bald man stepped forward, lighting a cigarette as he approached.
He stopped in front of them and said calmly,"I'm afraid this gentleman is off-limits."
The assassin protested,"But he's been excommunicated."
The bald man shot him an icy glare."I've heard the manager has granted him absolution."
John Wick stared at the man in surprise. He hadn't known about any pardon.
The bald man met John's eyes and said,"Mr. Wick, would you please come with me?"
John released his grip, ending the standoff, and returned the dagger he had taken.
The bald man gestured politely, glanced at the three assassins, and turned away with John.
But one of the attackers refused to let it go. He drew his blade again, preparing to strike.
Before he could act, the bald man turned and shot him dead.
Holstering his gun, the man said to John,"Welcome to Casablanca, Mr. Wick."
John nodded gratefully."Thank you."
The bald man smiled, and the two walked away together.