Reciprocity

Charlotte Doyle pulled up Ginny's number on his phone and dialed it.

The call was answered in less than three seconds.

"Ginny, look into Viggo Tarasov's gang headquarters in New York and send me the address as soon as possible."

Ginny did not ask why. She simply replied, "Understood!"

After giving the brief instructions, Charlotte Doyle hung up. He knew the church was only one Russian mob outpost, not the gang's main base. What was in the church was not all the Russian mob had.

The real focus there had been the officials' leverage and evidence of bribery.

Charlotte Doyle waited in the underground parking garage. Before long, a van drove in. Charlie stepped out, approached Charlotte, removed his hat, and placed it over his chest in greeting. "It's an honor to serve you, Mr. Doyle."

"I'll leave this place to you, Charlie."

Charlotte Doyle took five Gold Coins from his pocket and placed them in Charlie's hand.

After accepting the coins, Charlie quickly led his team in cleaning up the scene.

Just then, Ginny's text arrived. Charlotte glanced at the address. It was an abandoned factory in the outskirts of Brooklyn.

He then looked at his battle-damaged Mercedes-Benz and drew a deep breath. This was an antique car whose original factory parts had long since been discontinued!

Damn it, ambushing me was one thing.

But they actually wrecked my car.

Fuck!

After letting out a long breath, Charlotte finally walked out of the underground parking garage.

The security guard at the entrance was long gone, likely having fled as soon as he heard the gunfire.

Once on the street, Charlotte hailed a taxi. After giving the driver the address, he closed his eyes and rested.

Without the Flying Thunder God or the Heavenly Transfer Technique, Charlotte Doyle believed he was no slower than a car in the city. But if he actually ran all the way there, Coulson from S.H.I.E.L.D. would probably be knocking on his door the next day.

Meanwhile, John Wick had driven to the outside of his friend's house. He got out, drew his pistol, and cautiously entered.

Viggo and his men had already left. Only Marcus remained, riddled with bullets and lying in a pool of blood. John Wick's expression darkened as he slowly sat beside his friend's corpse in silence.

A moment later, his phone rang.

John Wick answered, and Winston's voice came through.

"John, I know you want information about Viggo from me."

"But The Continental Hotel has The Continental Hotel's Rules, so I won't tell you that there's a helicopter at a certain heliport, fully fueled and waiting for someone."

The moment he heard Winston's words, John Wick understood the hint and immediately hung up.

Looking at Marcus lying nearby, John Wick decided to avenge his friend.

He rose, left Marcus's home, and drove toward a certain heliport.

New York had already entered the night. The sky was pitch-black, while the city shone all the brighter beneath its neon lights.

Elsewhere.

The moment Charlotte Doyle got out of the taxi, he watched it speed away even faster than it had come.

Clearly, the driver knew this was no safe neighborhood.

The taxi's arrival had evidently alerted the guards near the factory.

In just a few days, the Russian mob led by Viggo had become like startled birds. Though they had heard their boss had reached a truce with the Night Demon, John Wick had already slaughtered a great many of the gang's able-bodied men.

They also worried that other gangs might come looking for a fight or try to seize the Russian mob's territory and business.

After all, Viggo was merely a mob boss, not a military commander. His manpower was limited. The more subordinates he lost, the weaker his power would inevitably become.

John Wick really had killed quite a few of them—seventy brothers in all.

As a result, the guard presence around the abandoned factory had visibly weakened. Only two men stood outside when a beam of light shone on Charlotte Doyle.

"Who are you?"

A burly man appeared before Charlotte Doyle. His clothes bulged as if he had guns hidden beneath them. Holding a flashlight, he shone it directly onto Charlotte's face, seemingly trying to identify the newcomer.

Charlotte Doyle did not answer. His figure flashed, and he instantly appeared before the man. His left hand covered the man's mouth to prevent even the slightest sound, while the Kunai in his right hand effortlessly sliced across the man's throat, killing him instantly.

Charlotte Doyle murmured softly, "Scum like this needs to be cleaned up. Looks like I'll have to play street sweeper for once."

The next second, Charlotte formed hand seals with both hands and used Transformation Jutsu, taking on the man's appearance.

He removed the man's radio and headset, then put them on himself.

As for the corpse, Charlotte Doyle carried it into a dark corner and concealed it.

Because of the darkness, the other guard noticed nothing unusual.

Just like that, Charlotte Doyle swaggered back.

Seeing his companion return, the other guard asked, "Bob, nothing unusual, right?"

Charlotte Doyle smiled and replied, "No problem. Just some guy who got out at the wrong stop. I sent him away."

The guard was about to speak when Charlotte suddenly struck. The Kunai pierced into the man's neck, while one hand covered his mouth. Charlotte said, "Don't talk. Take a deep breath. That's it, take a deep breath."

After waiting roughly three breaths and confirming the man was dead, Charlotte Doyle placed the corpse sitting against the wall. Then he gently opened the factory doors and walked inside.

Just like that, Charlotte Doyle brazenly infiltrated the Russian mob's headquarters.

Inside the factory, a burly Russian man held a bottle of vodka and poured it down his throat. He muttered drunkenly, "Aiden, one assassin killed so many of our men, and the boss actually made peace with him."

"Bastard, we're the Russian mob!"

"Throw money at him! What are we afraid of?"

"If four million can't buy his life, then use eight million."

"If that still doesn't work, make it ten million. What can a tiny Night Demon possibly do?"

The man called Aiden said, "Wes, you're drunk."

He stepped forward and took the vodka from Wes's hand.

"The boss must have his reasons. We need to keep a low profile for a while and not give other gangs an opportunity to come after us."

Hearing Aiden say this, Wes grew even more frustrated. He snatched back his vodka, took a heavy swig, then suddenly spotted Charlotte Doyle entering. He shouted, "Bob, instead of standing guard outside, you came in here to slack off? Didn't you hear Aiden say we need to stay alert these days?"