The phone resting on the table buzzed again. Shiranui Hayate picked it up to see a new notification: John Wick's bounty had surged to $15 million.
"Quite the figure," Hayate mused. "Where are you heading, John Wick?"
On the other side of the city, John Wick had fought his way from the crowded streets into a stable. After neutralizing the assassins pursuing him inside, he burst out of the stables atop a horse.
As he galloped onto the open highway, two assassins on motorcycles gave chase.
Beneath the shadows of the elevated tracks, John pushed the horse to its limit. One of the motorcyclists drew close, reaching out to drag John from the saddle, but John parried the attempts. Finding the perfect opening, John slammed his palm into the rider's helmet. The force jolted the man forward, exposing the handgun tucked into the small of his back.
In a fluid motion, John leaned over from the saddle, snatched the rider's own gun, and fired three rounds into the man's neck.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The rider died instantly. The unmanned motorcycle veered sharply, colliding with a nearby truck.
Sensing the second rider closing in, John executed a tactical slide to the side of the horse, using the animal's massive body as a shield. He extended his arm and fired several shots into the pursuing motorcycle's engine and tires. The bike spun out of control, crashing into a parked car in a shower of sparks.
With the immediate threat neutralized, John took one last look back. Confirmed that he was—temporarily—clear, he spurred the horse toward Forest Hills, Queens. His destination: the Shiranui Agency.
Shiranui Agency.
Inside the lobby, all five members of the agency were waiting in the heavy silence.
Hotaru looked at Hayate. "Boss, are you sure about this? At this rate, can John even make it?"
Hayate wasn't entirely certain of the timing, but he understood the desperation of a cornered wolf. "As long as he isn't dead, he'll come."
No sooner had the words left his lips than a rhythmic pounding echoed from the front door. Umino Iruka stood and walked to the entrance.
"Mr. John Wick, please come in."
John stood in the doorway, drenched, his white shirt stained a deep, oxidized red. He didn't move. "I'm here for Shiranui Hayate."
"Master Hayate has been expecting you," Iruka replied calmly.
Only then did John step inside. Across the street, an assassin who had been tracking John saw him enter the agency. With a look of lingering regret for the lost bounty, the hunter turned and vanished into the rain.
John followed Iruka through the hall until he stood before Hayate.
Hayate looked at the man before him—soaked, bleeding, and exhausted. "John, what brings you to my door?"
Hayate knew he would help, but he wouldn't offer it for free. In this world, an unrequested favor carries less weight than a hard-fought bargain.
John Wick sank to one knee. His voice was a raspy, desperate plea. "Mr. Shiranui... I ask for your protection."
Hayate remained silent for a long moment. "John, you have been excommunicated. You are a global target with a fifteen-million-dollar price tag. Simply meeting with you is an affront to the High Table. Protecting you? That's an invitation to war."
"However," Hayate continued, "the fact that I allowed you in means there is a possibility. So, John Wick—if I save your life, what do I get in return?"
Hayate pulled the Blood Marker John had given him from his pocket, letting it catch the light. The message was clear: I already own your debt. If I am to risk everything, the price must be higher.
John looked around the room, his eyes lingering on Hotaru, Iruka, Uchiha Sasuke, and Rock Lee. He saw the strength in their eyes—the absolute discipline. He made his decision.
"I offer you my loyalty," John said solemnly. "I will become one of yours. My life, my blade... they belong to you."
Hayate looked down at him. "Why do you want to live, John?"
The question caught John off guard. He paused, a shadow of grief crossing his face. "Because of my wife. I have to live... so I can remember her."
Hayate's gaze softened slightly. "You left this world for five years for her. And now, because of her, you've been dragged back in. Are you ready to return, John? Truly return to a world of endless slaughter, carrying only her memory?"
John Wick bowed his head, his voice ringing with absolute conviction. "Mr. Shiranui, I am!"
"For Helen, I laid down my arms to find peace. Today, for Helen, I pick them up again to keep her alive in the only place she remains—my memory."
Hayate thought of the "Three Deaths" of man: the body, the social standing, and finally, the last person who remembers you. John was fighting to prevent that final death.
"John Wick... I accept your fealty."
John felt a mountain of weight lift from his chest. But Hayate wasn't finished.
"Understand this: protecting you means open war with the High Table. For you to truly be safe, the status must change. The bounty must be struck, and the Continental must welcome you back."
"The only person who can truly grant that is the Elder—someone who sits above the seats of the High Table."
Hayate let the silence hang, watching John. John's mind raced through the implications before he spoke tentatively. "Then I go to Casablanca? To find the Elder and beg for a reprieve?"
Hayate shook his head and laughed. "No, John. We aren't going to find the Elder to beg."
"We are going to replace the Elder. We are going to take a seat at the Table ourselves."
The sheer audacity of the statement left John speechless. Shiranui Hayate wasn't looking to survive the rules; he was looking to rewrite them.
Hayate smiled. "Iruka, take John to the recovery room. He can't conquer the world in that condition."