Location: New York City | Late Night | Rain-soaked streets
The rain was steady, a measured percussion against the glass and concrete canyons of Manhattan. Neon bled into puddles, smearing into surreal, shifting paintings. From nowhere and yet perfectly in place, Agent 47 emerged onto a quiet street, hands gloved, shoulders square, and the faint gleam of his polished Silverballers visible beneath his tailored coat.
He paused at the curb, a ghost out of nowhere.
Unknown city. Nighttime. Population density high but thinning due to rain. Vehicles mostly taxis and private sedans. No obvious threat, yet my arrival was deliberate. Calculating next steps…
47's gaze tracked every moving figure. A couple huddled together under a battered umbrella hurried past. A tired doorman barely glanced up. An NYPD cruiser prowled the far end of the street.
Weapons allowed? Probably not. Cameras—numerous. Surveillance is dense. Even my face will not go unnoticed forever. Blend in. Gather intel. Prepare for hostiles if necessary. Destination? Unknown. Find shelter first. Assess surroundings.
He walked.
Each stride was measured, his tailored black coat slicing through the misty rain like a blade. Onlookers noticed him. A well-dressed figure alone at this hour.Some whispered as they passed:"Looks like a hitman or something…""Nah, just a businessman.""Too clean for these streets."
47 ignored their remarks.Idle talk of pedestrians had never concerned him.
Elsewhere — The Suburban Outskirts of the City
A sleepy neighborhood sat on the edge of the urban sprawl, where trees and dimly lit homes offered a fragile sanctuary from the chaos. The kind of place someone might retreat to after losing everything.
John Wick's house stood dark but for one faint light in the upstairs hall. Its architecture was modern yet warm, the interior polished with quiet dignity, with relics of a life John had built outside of the underworld.
And tonight, that sanctuary was being shattered.
Glass burst inward as three figures in dark hoodies and ski masks forced their way into the house. Muddy boots scraped across hardwood. The intruders moved fast, driven by adrenaline and the false courage of youth.
Upstairs, John Wick jolted upright at the sound. His face was worn with grief — days earlier he had lost his wife, and tonight that grief still clung to him like an unshakable shadow.
The faint yelp of a dog broke the silence. Daisy. The last gift from his late wife.
John swung his legs off the bed, reaching instinctively for a pistol he no longer kept at the bedside.
Stupid. Should never have let my guard down. Never again.
Footsteps thundered up the staircase. Too fast, too careless.
John moved like a shadow despite the weight of his sorrow, heart pounding as his hands found a heavy marble statue on a side table.He could already taste iron on his tongue.
The door burst inward.
One of the intruders raised a shotgun—John was faster.
He crashed into him with feral precision, swinging the marble relic into the intruder's face. Blood exploded across the wallpaper as the thug crumpled.
A second gun fired wildly. The bullet shattered a vase across the hall.
John lunged, grabbing the assailant's wrist and twisting until the weapon clattered to the floor. Another savage elbow dropped the intruder like dead weight.
But there was a third.
And as John turned, heart racing, the last thug was already standing over Daisy, trembling.
"Don't move," the thug hissed.
John froze. His hands were slick with rain and someone else's blood.
"You can take what you want," John growled, voice low and dangerous. "Just leave the dog."
The thug sneered, eyes bright with that empty cruelty of someone too stupid to understand the world they'd just kicked down the door to.
A hollow crack.And Daisy went still.
Time slowed. John heard his own breathing first — deep, sharp — then a roaring emptiness filled his ears as the intruder grabbed the keys to his car and bolted.
Meanwhile — Back in the City
47 was already moving past darkened storefronts and rain-smeared windows, his hands absently brushing a lapel as he paused at a convenience store. The rain drummed overhead as he stepped inside.
Shelves of cheap snacks and neon-lit coolers created an artificial glow. A bored cashier glanced up.
Currency unknown. Time to adapt.
He slid a few bills across the counter, purchased a disposable phone, and left.
Out in the rain again, he checked the phone for signal.
Internet available. Location: Manhattan. Date: unclear, but modern era. Possibility: alternate reality or different timeline. Resources need to be acquired.
As he moved on, his system interface flickered into his vision like a HUD only he could see:
SYSTEM ONLINE…MISSION: ???CONTRACT TARGET: UNKNOWN.REWARD: ???PENALTY: DEATH.ENVIRONMENTAL COMPATIBILITY: 100%.
No further data. Mission unclear. Assess and proceed with standard protocols until contract activates.
Back at the House — John Wick
John stood there, soaked and unmoving as the intruders' car revved into the rainy night, carrying his dead dog and the last shred of his peace with them. Blood pooled in the hallway. Glass crunched under his feet.
And then something colder than the rain settled in his gut.
He bent down to Daisy, lifting her small body gently.Grief would come later.But tonight… tonight was for action.
He carried her to a quiet corner, hands trembling as he wrapped her carefully in a blanket. Thunder rumbled across the hills outside.
And John Wick — the man who'd fought so hard to leave his past behind — felt that old, familiar rage unfurling like a dark tide.
Somewhere in the rain-slick city, Agent 47 paused beneath a flickering streetlight, eyes scanning the world with detached precision.
This city lays with the underworld. Organized networks. Targets yet unknown. Opportunity awaits. Every contract is a thread to pull. It will reveal itself in time.
He tucked the phone into his pocket, adjusted his cuffs, and kept moving.
And the rain kept falling — the perfect cover for the ghosts who walked between worlds.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Author: Eyy people! As you can see, i posted the chapter late, yeah, cause i had an accident, my left leg is fked up, ik, its bad but idc. Was playing battlefield 1 (trying to) but then the application didnt open, some driver issue, didnt let me take controls, i was like (wtf is wrong with this shit), i was enraged and changed the damn code by HxD, lol. Part time coding works, killed the damn popup from existence.