mijobooks Chapter 49 Fruit Slaughter Party and Dinner Service
Chapter 49 Fruit Slaughter Party and Dinner Service
Long Island, New York, is a villa district.
Police officer Dick, who patrols the area, received a noise complaint early in the morning: John Wick's villa was too noisy.
This was a name that gave him a terrible headache—John Wick, a top assassin known to everyone in both the legitimate and underworld circles.
Without the slightest hesitation, Dick put down the donuts and hot coffee, slammed on the gas, and the police car sped off towards the villa area.
He knew in his heart that none of the gentry in the villa area were easy to deal with, and none of them were people that a lowly patrolman like him could offend. Any one of them had the power to make Dick disappear.
When Dick arrived at John's villa, he saw this chaotic scene:
The lawn was covered with footprints, the French windows were broken, and tomato juice was splashed everywhere.
Is John Wick back to his old ways?
Dick thought that when John was an assassin, people would occasionally storm the villa to seek revenge.
Finally, some peace and quiet...
Dick hesitated for a moment, then pressed the siren on the police car and walked toward John's villa with a death wish. He slowed his pace, carefully listening to the sounds coming from inside the villa as he walked.
A cold wind brushed against his face, and Dick felt his sweat freeze. A gunshot rang out, and he stopped and stood outside the villa for a long moment.
Until there were no more gunshots, the whole world fell into the tranquility of early morning...
Dick guessed that the two sides had reached a conclusion, and he mustered up his courage to knock on the villa door.
This is Dick's way of surviving; he's just a lowly patrolman, a nobody struggling in an aristocratic empire.
Even the patrol officers in the villa area only earn a meager salary at best; it's not worth risking your life for.
A minute later, the door opened, but it wasn't John's old face that appeared; instead, it was the face of a strange man.
Dick's expression shifted slightly, but he quickly regained his composure and calmly began to speak the standard phrases:
"Sir, we received a noise complaint. The noise level here is a bit too high..."
As they were talking, gunshots rang out again inside the villa.
John pinned the last intruder to the ground with one knee, and a 9mm bullet pierced his brain. Strawberry-flavored bursting gummy liquid spurted from the intruder's skull, filling the air with a faint sweetness, as mellow as wine.
The villa's front door was half-open, and Titus stood in the doorway, his imposing figure making it difficult for the patrol officers to see clearly inside.
Titus raised his hand to wipe away the bursting juice from the strawberry gummy, smiled slightly at the patrolman, and said:
"John and I are busy right now, buddy!"
"Oh...okay, sir! I'll wait outside the villa. You two go ahead with your work!"
Under Titus's "kind" smile, Dick nodded, then ran across the large lawn as if fleeing, waiting on the woodland road outside the villa's lawn.
He usually parks his police car on the forest road, which is a good safe distance from the villa, separated by a large lawn.
At the same time, Titus closed the door and looked inside.
The room is decorated with double-glazed railings, genuine leather sofas, coffee maker frothers, and many other "life-size, juicy humanoid dolls" hanging, lying on, or inserted throughout.
Strawberry juice, watermelon juice, and caramelized tofu pudding were scattered all over the floor. After a fierce battle, the villa resembled a large slaughterhouse dominated by juicy fruits or berries.
And our butchers—Titus and John.
These two gentlemen are clearly the kind who don't care about hygiene. If food safety personnel come, they will be ordered to stop production.
But John Wick, who has extensive knowledge of the "underground slaughterhouse" and has worked in the industry for many years, has his own set of cleaning tips!
John staggered to the plane; in the chaos, his leg had been kicked hard and was probably bruised.
Fortunately, he suffered no other injuries, and the assassin Night Demon's prowess remained undiminished.
Night Demon pondered for a moment, then pressed a number and turned on the dial.
He knew that once he made that call, his retirement would be over.
But John knew that his retirement was over the moment those bastards broke into the villa.
Because anger would drag him further and further into the abyss of sin, John thought, perhaps he had never retired, but had only been lucky enough to gain a period of rest.
The underground assassin world is like a dark and treacherous arena, where love, hate, and the sounds of swords and axes are like taut threads. Everyone in this are connected by these threads, and once one of the connecting or intersecting threads is touched, it will affect the whole situation. In this dark world, no one can truly retire gracefully after achieving their goal.
After a silent wait, the call connected, and John said coldly:
"Reservation for dinner for twelve people."
Titus understood that "dinner" meant "cleaner" in the assassin world; a dinner for twelve meant twelve corpses that needed to be disposed of, and the dinner service was paid for with Gold Coins, specially made by the Continental Hotel.
Gold Coin is the only circulating currency in the underground assassin world. You have to pay with gold coins for hiring hitmen, dinner services, hotel services, bartending, or even if you want to hire a hot prostitute.
In general, all services, from large to small, are usually charged in gold coins, with one gold coin typically representing one service.
The assassin world has its own unique operating logic. The law doesn't apply here. Everyone here has more than one life on their hands. According to the law, they would all go to jail, but doing so would be tantamount to declaring war on the entire underworld.
Titus is not afraid to take on the entire underground world single-handedly; in fact, the thought of it excites him. This confidence comes from the six human body modification procedures he has undergone.
But he wasn't the kind of guy who would act recklessly in the heat of the moment; that would be pointless.
More importantly, the rules here are clearly more to his liking than American law, because the conditions for sentencing to death in American law are extremely strict (repeated murders, rape of young girls, and other extremely heinous circumstances), and even if the conditions for death are met, there are still various procedures that allow criminals to plead their case.
In this regard, Titus was disgusted by the Hannibal Lecter incident, and the world of assassins provided him with such an environment: registering as an assassin was almost unrestricted by the US and France!
Because almost everyone in the underground assassin world uses assassination to solve assassination!
If someone hires a hitman to kill me, then I'll hire an even more skilled hitman to kill them back. If that doesn't work, I'll issue a bounty. If 100,000 isn't enough, I'll issue a million. If one million isn't enough, I'll issue a ten million. I'll keep buying him until he's hunted down worldwide!
You're talking to me about the law, and you want to put me in jail?
Sorry, the person who killed you is an assassin from the Mainland Hotel, and the hotel is the management organization of the High Table, a top global assassin organization. For just one gold coin, the hotel's legal services will make you regret ever being born.
This way of solving problems is exactly what Tetus wants!
Because under this set of rules, as long as he abides by the surface-level social rules, such as not being photographed by reporters and having his actions posted online, then he is a true Dark Knight.
If he wants, he is America and France!
Inside John's villa, not long after the phone call ended, there was a knock on the door.
……