Inside the Room.
Dexter sat back on the sofa, lit a cigarette, and went back to watching TV.
The two Death Soldiers dragged a trembling, desperate, and furious Perkins into the bathroom.
Moments later.
Various sounds began to emanate from the bathroom.
Unknowingly, an hour passed.
The two Death Soldiers were finished. They dragged Perkins out. She looked like a dead dog.
Dexter took one look, didn't waste a second, and picked up the phone to call the front desk—Charon.
"Hello. I have an uninvited guest in my room. Please come handle the situation."
Hearing this, Charon's expression shifted slightly. "I apologize for the disturbance, sir. We will be there immediately."
He hung up.
Charon didn't hesitate. He immediately reported the situation to Winston.
Conducting "business" inside the Continental was strictly prohibited.
"You know what to do," Winston said, anger edging his voice.
"Yes, sir," Charon replied.
Soon.
Charon arrived at Dexter's door with eight armed staff members.
Knock, knock, knock.
Dexter opened the door with a smile.
In no time, the staff members Charon brought removed Perkins from the premises.
"Mr. Ding, on behalf of the Continental, I apologize again. The hotel will ensure you receive a satisfactory resolution to this matter," Charon said before leaving.
Dexter nodded, saying nothing.
Perkins was dead meat, but that had nothing to do with him anymore.
Sitting back down, Dexter pulled out his phone to check the surveillance feed.
John Wick's house was quiet for now.
He checked the time and calculated the travel distance. It was about time.
He packed up. Time to move.
---
Outside the Continental.
The men sent by Comrade Viggo Tarasov, along with the assassins attracted by the bounty, were still waiting.
Dexter, accompanied by two Death Soldiers and Dumb Nine, walked to the main entrance of the hotel. He stopped, looked at the men staring at him from an SUV across the street, and grinned.
Fuck it.
Let's make some noise, New York!
"Kill," Dexter turned his head, pointed at the SUV across the street, and ordered the two Death Soldiers.
A split second later.
The two soldiers raised their rifles and marched down the hotel steps.
Simultaneously, the other eight Death Soldiers, who had been waiting in vehicles by the curb, threw their doors open, stepped out, and engaged.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Instantly.
Gunfire erupted outside the main entrance of the Continental. It was a deafening, chaotic storm of lead.
The men in the SUV didn't stand a chance. Within seconds, they were wiped out.
At the same time.
The assassins who had been lurking in various spots waiting for Dexter popped out, joining the firefight.
Seconds ticked by.
Assassins dropped. Death Soldiers dropped.
The scene descended into total chaos.
Dexter, cigarette dangling from his lips, had already taken a few smart steps back, retreating behind the safety of the hotel's glass doors.
After all, bullets don't have eyes, and he only had one life. No need to risk it. Watching the show was enough.
The commotion outside naturally attracted the attention of the crowd in the lobby.
Everyone moved. Some stood up where they were, others walked to the doors to look out.
"Mr. Ding, you're making quite a scene," someone chuckled to Dexter.
News of what Dexter had done in New York over the last two days had spread efficiently.
As a High Table hub, the guests of the Continental basically all knew who Dexter was by now.
Dexter smiled faintly. "Just a little noise."
The person who asked chuckled, shook his head, and said nothing more.
Gunfights like this start fast and end fast.
About two or three minutes later.
The gunfire outside began to thin out, eventually fading into silence.
[Karma Points +2000, +2000, +2000...]
Another wave. Over 80,000 Karma Points earned.
Though the cost wasn't small.
Of the eleven Death Soldiers outside, only three were left standing.
But overall? Still a profit.
The shooting stopped.
Dexter immediately stepped out, opening Gold Chests as he walked.
Dumb Nine moved too. Whoosh. The dog sprinted toward the corpses on the road, joining the three remaining soldiers in looting gold coins from the bodies.
Everything proceeded in an orderly fashion.
The guests inside the Continental who witnessed this were dumbfounded.
"Shit! You can do that?"
"Scavenging the bodies?"
"How many coins is he gonna make off that?"
Why didn't I think of doing that before?
"What is up with that dog? How is it trained so well?"
"A gold-sniffing dog? Professional!!"
"I want one!"
"..."
The guests chattered excitedly.
Charon watched, silent.
Winston, who had come down to stand beside Charon, spoke up. "This Dexter... he wants to start a war."
Dexter didn't hear them. He walked down the stairs, officially leaving the sanctuary of the Continental. He opened the door of the Mustang—which now sported even more bullet holes—and got in.
The three soldiers and Dumb Nine were fast.
They stripped every collectable coin from the field and hopped into their respective vehicles.
Dexter didn't sit idle. He retrieved the nineteen new Death Soldiers he had just pulled from eight consecutive Gold Chests. Then, he retrieved the ten suits of full-body heavy armor he'd won that morning. He signaled the surviving Soldier Captain to organize the troops.
This entire operation was conducted in plain sight.
But it didn't matter. Anyone watching would just assume this was normal in their world.
It didn't take long.
The Captain suited up in the armor. Nine other soldiers did the same.
Then.
The soldiers commandeered several SUVs whose owners were no longer among the living.
Dexter and his convoy hit the road, speeding toward John Wick's house.
---
Viggo's Building, Top Floor.
The assistant reported the situation to Viggo, who was still hiding, too afraid to step outside.
Most of the men stationed outside the Continental were dead. A small fraction had temporarily retreated.
Dexter had left the hotel and was on the move.
"Send more men!!" Viggo listened to the report and nearly exploded. He roared, "We have to catch Dexter!!!"
The assistant had no choice but to make more calls, looking for people with a death wish.
Viggo stared at the wall for two seconds, gritted his teeth, pulled out his phone, and called his cousin, Peter Tarasov—the man who ran the taxi racket in New York (and arguably part of the Ruska Roma connection). "I need help."
Peter had already received the bounty text. Hearing Viggo's voice, he laughed. "I guessed you might."
"Get your people to catch Dexter. No matter what it takes," Viggo said. Although they were cousins, their relationship wasn't exactly warm. Begging Peter was a last resort.
"I can do that. But it's going to cost you. Heavily," Peter said. Cousin or not, business is business. In the assassin world, feelings didn't pay the bills.
"Fine!" Viggo gritted his teeth and agreed.
"Good," Peter replied and hung up.
Listening to the dial tone, Viggo shook with rage. He ground his teeth so hard they nearly cracked.
"FUCK!"
He was so angry, so hateful, he couldn't help but scream.
---