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The fight at the Red Circle Club had basically come to an end. Smith and Fox had witnessed everything firsthand.
Back in the car, Smith looked at Fox and said,"Thirty-one kills, four with a knife. How does that make you feel?"
Fox glanced at the fleeing Rusev Tarasov and said with some regret,"He's ruthless and efficient, using a Mozambique-style pattern: two to the chest, one to the head. Practically no one survives.Although he killed so many, his true target was likely the one who escaped just now…"
Smith nodded. Fox was right."Let's go. We've seen enough of his skills. Time to head back to the Continental."
Fox stepped on the gas, and the car sped off. Outside, John Wick was dragging his injured body from the fight, while Rusev Tarasov had already escaped in a vehicle.
In Room 819, Fox leaned against the wall, arms crossed, thinking:
"You're not planning to recruit him into the Assassin League, are you?With his skills, he's more than qualified. A bit of training, and he could be one of us. But would he accept our philosophy?I even suspect… he might end up being our target."
Smith thought for a moment, shaking his head."At the moment, I have no plans to recruit him.But your suggestion is good—I'll consider it."
Fox sighed, picked up the bourbon on the table, poured a glass, and took a sip."I just hope the final answer isn't boring."
Time passed slowly.
John Wick returned to the Continental. After being treated by the hotel doctor, he went back to his room to rest.
The door slammed loudly as he entered, and Smith Doyle in the next room immediately noticed.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, sounds of a fight erupted from the adjacent room.
Fox, too, heard the commotion. She sat up on the bed, quickly dressed, and muttered,"Looks like not everyone is following Continental rules.If I'm not mistaken, that's John Wick's room."
Smith smiled. He already knew exactly what was happening next door, even the details of the fight. Had John Wick's friends not warned him outside the Continental, he could easily have been ambushed and killed by the female assassin, Perkins.
"Rules exist to be broken…but only if you can bear the consequences."
Fox smiled."Looks like someone's about to have a bad day. Those who break the rules should pay the price.With all that noise, I'm sure some guests have already notified the Continental."
Moments later, the fight ended—John Wick had won.
Smith Doyle opened the door and saw Perkins crawling in the hallway. He turned to Fox."Seems like she overestimated her abilities."
John Wick hung up the hotel phone and stepped out of the room. He grabbed Perkins from behind, pressing a gun to her head, determined to get the information he wanted.
After knocking her out with the butt of his gun, he looked at Smith and said,"Smith, can you help me deal with this unconscious one?I'll pay one coin and leave it with the Continental at dawn.You know, killing inside the Continental is forbidden."
Smith laughed heartily. The Continental's rules were clear."Bring her in. I have something to say to you."
John nodded, returned to his room, and retrieved a pair of handcuffs and a coin from the Continental.
Perkins' hands were cuffed behind her back and brought into Smith Doyle's room.
Seeing John place her on a chair and lay a Continental coin on the table, Smith said,"Fox, pour John a glass of bourbon."
Fox went over, poured a glass, and stood aside, curious about what would happen next.
John Wick picked up the glass and drank it in one go."This is good. Helen recommended this brand to me too."
Smith Doyle smiled and said,"John Wick, your personal matters aren't finished yet.But before that, I need to know your wish."
Hearing the question, John set the glass down, serious."My wish…" he paused for a moment, then continued,"I want to bring my deceased wife back to life."
Smith Doyle knew John was telling the truth. He looked at him seriously for three seconds before continuing,"Alright. I trust that you're honest."
Fox, slightly confused, didn't fully understand the resurrection issue, but maintained a calm expression as she watched John.
"The Assassin League is an organization with over a thousand years of history.The Dragon Balls are sacred artifacts of our League.And you possess one of the seven Dragon Balls. When all seven are gathered, you can summon the dragon and make a wish."
John nodded. From his first encounter with the Dragon Balls, he had already understood their purpose."Sounds a bit like Aladdin's lamp."
Smith said casually,"That's just a storybook adapted by bards who heard rumors of the Dragon Balls."
John was surprised. He hadn't expected such an answer, and silently asked,"If the Dragon Balls are sacred to your League, why were they in my home?"
Smith explained,"After a wish is made, the Dragon Balls scatter around the world, turning into stones, remaining hidden for a period before returning to their original form.Our League doesn't keep the Dragon Balls entirely for ourselves. Instead, when someone destined encounters a Dragon Ball, we observe them to understand their wish.
If the person passes our test, and their desire isn't selfish or destructive, the League guides them to find the remaining Dragon Balls."
John nodded, understanding the gist even if he didn't fully believe it.
"What if someone's desire is evil, selfish, or destructive? What do you do then?"
Smith Doyle replied slowly,"You—assassins—what is your opinion of the Assassin League?"
John recalled the legends of the League. They never accepted assassination contracts, yet people or organizations would mysteriously die at their hands.
Were these failures of the League's test?
No wonder the Dragon Ball legend had no record outside. Anyone who knew of it was eliminated.