As agreed, the kill order on John Wick had been canceled. Without a direct conflict, John Wick was still quite popular in the Continental Hotel. Many assassins dispersed—after all, there was no money to be made, and it wasn't worth provoking the infamous "Baba Yaga."
Of course, except for one person: the bald Neon man. His feelings for John Wick… were just short of obsession.
He claimed to be John Wick's biggest fan and kept asking how he managed to kill three people with a pencil, and why he went on a killing spree for a dog.
That made John Wick furious. He couldn't shake the guy off, and couldn't get rid of him either. In the end, it wasn't until Melin took him to the High Table headquarters that he finally escaped the pest.
In the vast yellow sands of the African desert, the true leader of the High Table was hidden away. They had no secret base, no fixed location—living as nomads, constantly moving through the desert. That was the real reason why the High Table's leader had never been found.
"Hm? This Cosmo… it's really…"
As they arrived at their destination, Melin sensed a very familiar Cosmo just outside the main tent. It was so faint that it could only be felt from this close.
"What is it?" John Wick asked as Melin suddenly stopped.
"Nothing—just ran into an old friend," Melin grinned.
"Huh? A friend?" John Wick was confused. Wasn't this the place where the High Table's true leader resided? Why would Melin have a friend here?
…
…
"You'll see soon enough."
"Oh…"
Walking into the tent, they saw a man seated at the center. Though his appearance had changed greatly, his Cosmo didn't lie. Melin recognized him instantly.
"Yo, Melin, long time no see."
With dark bronze skin, blue eyes, dressed in traditional desert noble robes and a bright, hearty smile on his face, he sat flanked by two beautiful women feeding him and pouring wine.
"I didn't expect it to be you, Horus," Melin said, shaking his head.
That's right—the true leader of the High Table was Horus, son of Osiris and Isis in Egyptian mythology, guardian of the Pharaohs, symbol of kingship, and god of vengeance.
"Haha, I guess I should be proud that I fooled the 'Earth Father' Melin." Horus laughed.
"So what's the deal with you now… where's your bird head?" Melin sat down across from him without ceremony.
Horus's past form was quite different: falcon-headed, crowned, clad in a linen kilt, wielding the Was scepter and Ankh symbol—majestic and divine.
"Screw the bird head, Melin. In this era, if I showed up with that head, humans wouldn't worship me. They'd either capture me as a rare animal or dissect me in a lab." Horus grumbled, though there was a flicker of sadness in his eyes.
"So you gave up your divinity?" Melin asked. That would explain why Horus's Cosmo was so weak. He was no longer the god of vengeance, but a man named "Horus" who had destroyed his own divinity.
"It's not so bad, is it? I lost my godhood, but I'm still immortal, have decent power, and now lead a powerful organization." Horus said proudly, glancing around.
"Is that so?"
"Of course. Still, I can't compare to you. Your Sanctuary and Saints are legendary, even after hundreds of thousands of years."
"Damn right!" Melin beamed proudly, like a parent bragging about their kids.
"So then, Mr. Wick."
Hearing his name, John Wick finally snapped out of his daze. He looked at Melin, then at Horus.
"Come, sit down, Mr. Wick. No need to be nervous. With his protection, no one on Earth can hurt you."
John hesitated but eventually sat beside Melin.
And here, his top-tier assassin instincts kicked in. Though seated, his hands naturally dropped to his waist, ready to draw his gun at any moment.
Neither Melin nor Horus paid this any mind. They kept chatting casually.
"Horus, you brought me here… is this about avenging Ra and the others?"
"Are you kidding me, Melin? Back then, with so many gods attacking you, you and Athena almost wiped them out with the Sanctuary. If they couldn't beat you at full strength, why would I try now?"
Horus rolled his eyes.
"Heh, that's not really in line with your title as the god of vengeance. Don't forget—it was me who killed your uncle Set."
"He deserved it! He brought it on himself. Honestly, I should thank you. He hurt my dad, after all. And besides, I already gave up my godhood—being the god of vengeance is old history." Horus said, then looked at Melin with a teasing grin. "What, you on a god-killing spree lately? Ares and Poseidon not enough for you?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Horus. Every god who died by my hand started it first."
"Sure, sure, the brave and righteous Melin. The gentle and kind Athena. Everyone knows." Horus exaggeratedly rolled his eyes.
"Cut the crap. Why did you really call me here? Don't tell me you just wanted a chat."
"So shallow, am I?"
"Aren't you?"
"You—! Ugh, fine… let's talk business." Horus gave up trying to argue. He really couldn't hide anything from Melin. "I need your help."
"My help? You're living like a king here with thousands of subordinates. What could you need me for?" Melin raised an eyebrow.
"Not now. You know Earth looks peaceful, but being the nexus of fate, there'll only be more and more crises. When that time comes, I want you to save my life."
"Oh? Looks like you know more than you let on." Melin narrowed his eyes.
"Kind of. I'm the last of our pantheon. All the inheritance left behind by the other gods falls to me. Among Ra's legacies, I found a lot of ancient texts and secrets."
"Oh?" Now Melin was interested. What he cared about most right now were Hades's Underworld army and Zeus's Celestial Warriors. After that came ancient mysteries—how did Earth begin? What happened in the ancient era? Why is Earth so unique?
"You, out." Horus said to the women at his side.
"You too," Melin told John Wick.
Ancient secrets weren't for ordinary people. Even just words, images, or sounds held invisible power. Those who weren't chosen or strong enough would be obliterated instantly.
John didn't argue. He owed Melin too much and followed him without question.
Once the area was cleared, Melin added a barrier just to be safe. Only then did Horus begin.
…
The sun had set. Night draped the desert in darkness, pierced only by campfire sparks. It felt like a vast, devouring maw.
John Wick, after leaving the main tent, wasn't treated badly. On the contrary, he was treated like an honored guest. Still, every few minutes, he'd glance toward the tent, constantly alert.
They had arrived in the morning. It was now late at night. Melin and Horus had talked the entire day, and who knew what they had discussed?
But John didn't care about the content. He only needed to ensure Melin was safe.
Just then, the tent flap opened. Melin and Horus stepped out together.
"Doing business with you is always a pleasure, Melin." Horus smiled.
"Well, the price you paid was worth it."
"You really won't stay the night? My collection's quite… extensive. Never used, too." Horus said with a sleazy grin.
"Pfft, I'm not scared of you, I'm scared of Athena!" Melin scoffed.
"Still whipped, huh?"
"That's not fear, that's love! What would a walking artillery shell like you understand?"
"I call it living the good life!"
"Tsk. If Hathor were still alive, you'd dare?"
"Pfft—cough cough…" Horus choked on his own spit.
Try it? That would be suicide!
"Alright, I'm heading out. I'll let Shion know about your request. Contact him if you need anything."
"Sounds good. See you next time."
"See you."
Their talk done, Melin took John Wick and vanished. Horus stood in place, staring off where they had gone.
"Yeah… another familiar face from the mythic age. One fewer every time…" he muttered softly, then turned back into the tent—ready to enjoy another beautiful night.
…
Elsewhere, Melin brought John Wick straight home. It was late, but neither of them planned to sleep. John stared at Melin with curiosity practically dripping from his eyes.
"Who are you, really?" he asked.
"You already know. I'm Melin. I never lied to you."
"I meant your identity."
"Does it matter, whether you know or not?" Melin smiled slightly.
"It does. It affects how I repay you," John said seriously.
"Oh? What if I said… I'm a god?"