John Wick accepted the photo and nodded.
"I'll retrieve the Doragon Bōru (Dragon Ball) from her."
After a moment of thought, he added cautiously,
"I know a few others… If we plan to bring down the Takadai Shou (High Table), they might be willing to lend a hand."
Smith Dole wasn't surprised. After all, John Wick had been a legendary assassin for many years. He was bound to have trusted allies—maybe even some who already resented the High Table's rule.
"I'm glad to hear that," Smith replied. "But we don't have time to contact them right now."
"Once we've located the elder hidden in Casablanca, we'll move immediately."
"After that, you can reach out to those you trust, either to join the counteroffensive or to help destabilize the High Table."
John nodded in understanding.
"Understood."
Smith thought for a moment and then said,
"Once you have the Dragon Ball, head straight into the Casablanca desert."
"Then look up—Canis Minor, the constellation trailing Orion in the night sky. Follow the brightest star."
"Keep walking until you're near death… and then keep going. When you're down to your last breath, he'll come to you—or maybe he won't."
"It all depends on your luck."
"I'll have Wesley arrange transport through our own channels to get you to Casablanca."
······
Elsewhere.
The Bowery King stood in his faction's headquarters. His lieutenant, Earl, approached him and said,
"There's an Adjudicator here to see you."
The Bowery King exhaled deeply.
"I didn't expect the High Table to send an Adjudicator. All I did was give John Wick a gun… Will they really come after me for that?"
He glanced around at his men. Someone must've reported it.
He grabbed his umbrella and ascended to the rooftop where he kept his pigeons, waiting for the visitor.
Soon, Earl brought the Adjudicator up.
Seeing her approach, the Bowery King greeted her with a grin,
"Welcome to my mission command center, my central nervous system of operations. This is where I control the word on the streets—and the paths of the world."
The Adjudicator looked around and quipped,
"With pigeons?"
He glanced at the birds and said,
"You see flying rats. I see the internet."
Then, with full confidence, he added,
"No IP address. No digital footprints. Can't be tracked, hacked, or traced."
The Adjudicator mocked him,
"Do they make you sick?"
The Bowery King's confidence faltered, and he replied dryly,
"I wouldn't recommend eating them."
He then gave her a quick scan and asked,
"So what do you want?"
Raising her chin slightly, the Adjudicator responded,
"I want to see where nothing happened."
He narrowed his eyes.
"Where nothing happened?"
She answered slowly and clearly,
"The place where you didn't kill John Wick."
His gaze dropped slightly as he answered firmly,
"I was under the impression that contracts were optional."
"I had no issue with what John Wick did."
The Adjudicator handed her umbrella to Earl and said,
"But you gave him a Kimber 1911 with seven rounds—knowing full well he planned to use it against the High Table, didn't you?"
She pulled the weapon from her briefcase, showing it to him.
"Specifically, this Kimber 1911."
After displaying the murder weapon, she put it back and stepped closer.
"You gave John Wick seven bullets."
"The High Table gives you seven days."
The Bowery King asked,
"What does that mean, exactly?"
"Seven days for what?"
Expressionless, she replied,
"To get your affairs in order… and find your birds a new home."
"In seven days, you'll step down."
The Bowery King couldn't help but laugh.
"Ah… ha. Ha. Ha…"
His laughter grew louder until he threw his umbrella to the ground and said,
"Darlin', do you know what Bowery means, Adjudicator?"
"Do you know what happens when I raise my hand?"
He made a dramatic wave with his hand.
"No one can take my throne."
"Because I am the throne, baby."
"I am Bowery!"
Then, glaring fiercely, he added,
"I'm everything you don't want to see on the streets at night."
"Bowery belongs to me. Only me!"
Unmoved, the Adjudicator replied coldly,
"Don't make the mistake of thinking you exist outside the rules. No one does."
"You have seven days."
With those final words, she turned and left the rooftop. She had another destination ahead.
······
Meanwhile.
Winston knew he couldn't just sit still. If he didn't want to give up control of the Continental, his options were limited.
Unless he somehow gained the support of a High Table elder—but that was unrealistic. Even as the Continental's manager, he was far from reaching their level.
His only choice was the same as John Wick's: seek out the Assassins' Guild.
But the Guild wouldn't easily accept someone who operated a neutral platform for killers. Even if they did, the New York Continental would become isolated. Without rules, it would lose all reason to exist.
There was just one option left—divert the threat.
Let the High Table's Adjudicator clash with the Assassins' Guild instead.
Only then, with the heat off him, could he buy enough time to maneuver politically and lift his punishment.
Having decided, Winston acted immediately. He picked up his phone and dialed Smith Dole. When the call connected, he said,
"Mr. Smith, this is Winston."
Smith was mildly surprised to hear from him.
"What is it, Winston?"
Winston replied,
"The High Table's Adjudicator has arrived in New York. She'll soon learn that you're the one sheltering John Wick."
"I believe she'll come knocking soon. Be prepared."
He ended the call immediately and made his way toward Room 217—where the Adjudicator was staying.
······
(End of Chapter)
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