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New York Continental Hotel
Smith and Fox handed two Continental Hotel coins to the doorman and stepped inside.
Instead of lingering in the lobby, Smith led Fox directly to the hotel's underground bar.
When Charon at the front desk saw Smith and Fox heading toward the bar, he immediately picked up the phone.
"Manager Winston, Smith—the one you asked me to watch—is here with Fox and is heading toward the bar now."
"Understood," Winston replied.
Charon hung up the phone and muttered to himself,"Luckily, the hotel covers meals and lodging, so I don't need to leave."
After ending the call, Winston rubbed his head and casually said,"How did these two end up here?""Are those lunatics from the Assassin League planning to attack my Continental Hotel?""Or did some unlucky criminal anger Smith?"
As the manager of the New York Continental Hotel, Winston was familiar with the Assassin League. Eighteen years ago, the organization carried out random assassinations for no reason, but suddenly changed its methods. They no longer killed indiscriminately but targeted only those who had committed grave crimes or were deeply corrupt.
In New York alone, numerous crime bosses and unarrested serial killers had fallen victim to the Assassin League—and none had survived.
Although the Continental Hotel and some gangs reported these incidents to the authorities, no action was ever taken. Only a judge was sent to negotiate briefly, then left.
Winston also knew that when the High Table was first established, it had invited the Assassin League to join and even offered an elder position—but the League had declined.
Many registered assassins at the Continental had been killed by Assassin League members outside the hotel. Among them, Smith Doyle, who had arrived today, had especially targeted Black assassins, sometimes exclusively so.
However, as long as no one died inside the hotel, Winston didn't care. After all, Smith wasn't here to identify anyone, right? With that thought, Winston quickened his pace.
After paying another two Continental Hotel coins, Smith and Fox entered the underground bar.
As they walked in, the assassins inside glanced at them, either intentionally or unconsciously.
Although the hotel forbade killing, and the bar served as an intelligence hub, every assassin instinctively observed any newcomer.
Seeing Smith Doyle, some assassins paid no mind and even raised their glasses in greeting.
However, when several Black assassins spotted Smith, they immediately turned or walked toward the restroom; some even hid their faces under hats.
Fox watched the reactions and said to Smith,"You're a real hunter. Look at how many of those Black assassins you scared off."
Smith smiled casually and replied,"Shouldn't we cleanse the world of its filth?""Every single one—none were accidents."
Fox nodded seriously. Everyone here was a killer, murdering for money regardless of right or wrong. Eliminating them all was the correct choice.
Yet Fox noticed that Smith seemed to harbor a particular hatred toward Black people. In fact, because of this bias, the Assassin League had never recruited a Black assassin since learning of his actions.
Smith then walked to the bar and said to bartender Eddie,"Two Thunderous Bourbons, please."
Eddie poured a glass for each of them and smiled at Smith."Smith, every time you come here, business gets worse. I bet they're texting other African assassins to stay away from the Continental for the next two days."
Smith shrugged."Actually, I hope everyone comes here to seek refuge. Killing is forbidden here, right?"
Eddie chuckled silently."If they do, I'd be worried you'd remember their faces outside and find a chance to kill them."
"How can I help you?"
The coins at the bar served not only as admission but also as intelligence fees. Here, one could gather any information they wanted.
Smith pulled out a piece of paper with a drawing of a Dragon Ball 4 planet."If anyone asks about this—or something similar—send them to me."
Eddie looked it over and said,"A crystal ball with a star on it, right?""Got it. Understood."
After Eddie left, Fox curiously asked,"What's that?""And the exciting performance you mentioned?"
Before Smith could answer, Winston approached, greeting them warmly."Mr. Smith.""Ms. Fox."
Smith raised his glass."Manager Winston, long time no see."
Fox greeted him as well."Mr. Winston."
Winston snapped his fingers, and Eddie returned."Eddie, bring out my 1972 Macallan. I want to offer Mr. Smith and Ms. Fox a drink."
Hearing the vintage, Smith remarked,"Winston, that Macallan isn't cheap."
Winston smiled."No matter the price, its value lies in being enjoyed.""Besides, fine whiskey is for heroes. A little drink like this is nothing for you two."
Eddie soon returned with three glasses of whiskey and placed them before Smith and the others.
Smith sniffed, sipped, and said,"This vintage is nice, though I've heard 1926 was the best."
Winston laughed."This vintage is extremely rare and expensive. Even I wouldn't sell it."
Smith said nothing. Indeed, a 1927 Macallan could be worth £200 million and nearly impossible to acquire.
Winston continued,"Platforms like ours shouldn't be targets of the Assassin League.""So, Smith, you're not breaking the hotel rules, right?"
Smith looked at Winston and shrugged."You don't think we're here to take down the New York Continental, do you?""As for your hotel rules, I think they're fine."
Winston smiled at the reply."Thank you."
Fox then suddenly said,"The Continental just issued a new mission, worth $200 million.""Smith, that should liven things up, right?"