Winston: I Want to Report a Crime!

"Winston, since this is our first meeting, should I introduce myself to show my respect?"

Anton slowly approached Winston, the exposed lower half of his face wearing a half-smile.

Winston never expected Anton to crack the code and enter this safe house. He hurriedly set down his wineglass and raised his gun at Anton.

The armor on Anton's body was unstained by blood, still dark and dull.

Yet he had fought his way here, breaking who knew how many bones and hammering countless people into full-body paralysis. His murderous aura was overwhelming.

Winston felt immense pressure, his forehead slick with sweat.

He knew the gun in his hand was useless against the armored man before him, but he could not bring himself to put it down.

"In all the years the Continental Hotel has existed, you're the first person to break in here."

He forced himself to remain calm and said sternly, "Batman, I don't care who you really are. This is the Continental Hotel, under the jurisdiction of the High Table. If you kill me, you won't just offend every assassin in New York's underworld. You'll also offend the High Table."

"That's not the attitude of someone seeking reconciliation."

Anton looked at Winston. His tone was calm, yet it sent a chill through Winston's heart.

Winston understood that this matter could not be settled peacefully.

Or rather, they both understood that even if Anton spared Winston now, Winston would report him to the High Table afterward.

"What exactly do you want?"

Winston's face darkened.

"Revenge!"

Anton remained utterly calm. "You sent people to kill me, so I'm taking revenge. Isn't that perfectly reasonable?"

"I sent people to kill you?"

Winston froze, completely dumbfounded.

Then he suddenly understood. This was karma coming back to bite him.

"What will it take for you to spare me?"

Winston calmed down.

He could tell that the man in front of him did not seem to intend to kill him.

"Life Foundation."

Anton clearly enunciated those words.

Winston's eyes widened. He remembered the final job he had given John Wick before his retirement earlier that day.

"You're..."

A flash of realization struck him, and his face filled with disbelief.

Under the other man's icy gaze, he could not bring himself to say that name.

After a while.

The clock ticked toward midnight.

Wee-woo, wee-woo!

A large number of police cars crowded the entrance to the Continental Hotel.

Not far away, a group of reporters holding cameras eagerly filmed the scene.

The reporters looked excited.

They were usually well-informed. The Continental Hotel had a powerful background and stood apart in Manhattan; no one had ever dared to film in this area before.

Though everyone knew this place was filled with filth, most people became reporters to make a living, not to get themselves killed.

Today was different.

Someone had specifically invited them here, and police had even cleared the way.

Had the Continental Hotel fallen?

Who had it offended?

Everyone was tremendously excited. This was major news that would shake New York—worth at least a thousand-dollar bonus when they brought it back.

Thus, under countless watchful eyes, a group of armed police stormed into the Continental Hotel.

After a while, the police escorted dozens of badly wounded assassins covered in blood out of the hotel and threw them directly into prisoner transport vans.

Throughout the process, the reporters did not hear a single gunshot.

The entire area was deathly quiet.

Then where had the injuries on these blood-soaked assassins come from?

The reporters fell into thought.

Yet after returning home, every article they wrote was essentially titled, "New York Police Join Forces to Capture Gang Members," without exception.

What they did not know was that even the police were shocked after entering the Continental Hotel.

Assassins and gang members who could not get back up lay everywhere.

Judging by the equipment scattered around them, if a real fight had broken out, the National Guard would probably have been needed to wipe them out with ease.

Handing something like this over to the police would only make them admit they were powerless.

They had no desire to throw their lives away.

"Where did this monster come from?"

The officers who had been patrolling Manhattan earlier and happened to see Anton, dressed as Batman, charging here without looking back had vaguely sensed something was up. They secretly clicked their tongues in amazement.

This had become a huge incident.

The call from above had gone directly from New York City Hall to the police department.

George Stacy, the New York Police Department commissioner, had already gotten off work, but he still had to rush to the Continental Hotel.

As a high-ranking police official, he naturally knew the Continental Hotel well.

Before, it was simply because they could not control it.

After so many years of New York's existence, many rules had long since taken shape.

George was not an idiot.

On the contrary, he had become commissioner of the New York Police Department not only because he had a strong sense of justice and tough methods, but also because he understood that underworld rules could only be handled by the underworld.

As the saying went, it took magic to defeat magic.

If someone like him from aboveground insisted on meddling in the filth below, he would only waste effort and end up covered in muck.

Of course, when an opportunity landed in his lap, there was no reason to turn down the credit.

"Batman..."

George thought of the report from his officers and felt a headache coming on.

New York City's public safety had been far from good lately, and complaints at the police department had piled up like a mountain.

And now a Batman had appeared!

A movie character?!

After this incident, George did not believe the man was merely playing dress-up.

"Find out Batman's real identity."

He instructed the officer beside him, "Also, write a report and submit it to City Hall. We can't keep all the credit for this one."

"Understood. Don't worry, Commissioner."

His subordinate patted his chest. "Writing reports is what I do best."

As they spoke.

A disheveled figure with a grim old face emerged from the Continental Hotel.

When George saw him, he narrowed his eyes and approached with a fake smile. "Mr. Winston, such a serious gang shootout occurred at the Continental Hotel, and we even found assassins wanted by the police inside. It's truly fortunate to see that you're unharmed in such a dangerous place."

Winston's expression grew even darker at those words.

Seeing that his Continental Hotel had been surrounded by police, his gaze swept over the prisoner vans outside, and a flicker of heartache passed through his eyes.

This was the work of years of his life.

In a single day, most of it had collapsed.

After today, the Continental Hotel would likely become a laughingstock.

Fortunately, he had preserved the Continental Hotel's name.

According to the agreement, the High Table would naturally go after that man and would not strip Winston of his authority.

"Commissioner George, I have something to tell you."

Winston took a deep breath.

"I want to report a crime!"

He followed George outside the Continental Hotel and spoke resolutely before the reporters, his voice impassioned and ringing. "These people were sent by the Life Foundation. Those San Francisco people wanted to destroy my hotel."

"What?"

George's eyes widened.

He had never imagined he would hear those words from Winston's mouth.

Weren't they all your people?

The Life Foundation!

How could a bunch of San Francisco people possibly come to New York to cause trouble!

Did they really think the New York Police Department was a pushover?

George wanted to curse out loud, but with reporters present, there were things he simply could not say. He could only force out a smile uglier than crying.

He spoke righteously, gritting his teeth. "Tell me. I'll make sure you get justice."

"The Life Foundation has no grudge against the Continental Hotel. Their goal is to retaliate against the Daily Bugle."

Before the cameras, Winston showed an expression everyone understood and said gravely, "As for the reason, everyone knows it perfectly well."

"But why would they cause trouble at the Continental Hotel?" George pressed.

"You'll have to ask the Life Foundation that!"

Winston casually tossed the question back at him. He was gritting his teeth as well, and the hatred on his face was anything but fake.

"There's no need for me to lie about this. In short, the Life Foundation is the true culprit!"

He pronounced each word distinctly, delivering his final verdict on the matter.

George was stunned. He could tell Winston was not lying. This guy genuinely believed the Life Foundation was the culprit.

But that did not match the intelligence he had received!

The one who had attacked you was clearly some Batman who had appeared out of nowhere. How had the Life Foundation gotten dragged into this?

Shouldn't you hate Batman?

George was utterly baffled.

Whoosh!

At that moment, a breeze swept by.

"Look!"

Someone glanced up, their eyes widening in horror. Pointing at a figure on the top floor of the Continental Hotel, they cried out, "What is that?"