The Party Begins, a Hidden Third Party

Anton arrived in Los Angeles early the next morning.

Los Angeles was home to Hollywood. Celebrities gathered here, and the reporters were far more fanatical than their New York counterparts.

A group of them squatted openly at the airport exit with cameras in hand, simply waiting for Anton to emerge.

With their connections, the moment Anton boarded a plane, they knew his next destination.

Even private jets were no exception. Someone would always be bribed.

Not only were the regular exits watched, but even the VIP exit had people stationed there. Anton had no idea how these reporters had gotten in.

Every exit had informants.

Los Angeles reporters could be called the city's kings of intelligence.

Aboveground or underground, from petty gossip to international incidents, reporters could be found everywhere.

"Go back and fire everyone on the plane. Replace them with a new crew."

Anton's expression was ugly. After stopping and looking around, he saw the reporters at the entrance practically craning their necks for a glimpse of him, and a headache came on.

He knew it had to be one of the private jet's employees who had leaked his information.

"Understood."

Betty nodded. "Do you want me to call airport security?"

"Call them."

Anton sighed. He truly had no way of dealing with reporters, and he lacked experience handling them himself.

As the behind-the-scenes owner of the Daily Bugle, he knew better than anyone that if he answered even one question here, he might end up on tomorrow's front page.

There was no need to doubt it. He had that level of fame now.

A few minutes later.

Surrounded by security guards, Anton got into his car and left without giving the reporters even the slightest opening.

During the process, the reporters desperately shoved forward and thrust their cameras into Anton's face, as though they did not even need to ask him anything.

The group followed Anton's car to a mansion outside Los Angeles.

"What is he doing here?"

One reporter was puzzled.

"A party."

Another answered, "Jim moved the celebration party up to eight tonight. Anton came to Los Angeles specifically to attend it."

"What?"

The reporter was astonished. "Wasn't the party supposed to be tomorrow?"

"It was moved up a day, and you didn't know? You should quit and go home to nurse your kids. This line of work isn't for you."

His colleague gave him a contemptuous look, as if staring at trash.

Time quickly passed from the early morning to the evening.

After getting enough rest, Anton, full of energy, drove to the party venue.

His companion in the passenger seat was his personal assistant, Betty.

Seeing this, the reporters eagerly followed after them again.

Meanwhile.

New York.

Under Sloan's orders, members of the Brotherhood appeared near the Empire State Building.

They included Fox, Repairman, Gunsmith, Mr. X, Insecticide, Butcher, and others.

Nearly every member had been mobilized just to deal with Carlos.

They were the world's finest assassins.

The reason they had all been dispatched was because they knew just how difficult Carlos was to handle.

Carlos, once their companion, had never failed a mission. He was a legendary figure in the Brotherhood, admired by countless peers.

His terrifying gun-fu filled Brotherhood members with dread.

Even the assassins under the High Table considered Carlos one of the hardest people in the world to kill.

He ranked above even Sloan.

To be fair, although John Wick was known as the King of New York Assassins, if they were truly compared, he definitely could not take down Carlos. At most, he was on par with Fox and the others.

After all, if John Wick could kill Carlos, the High Table would not be so wary of the Brotherhood.

What these Brotherhood members did not know was that their every move had been watched from beginning to end by a pair of glowing red eyes.

Whoosh!

In the darkness, an immensely tall figure lurked in hiding. Two long, pointed ears stood atop its head, making it look exactly like a humanoid rabbit.

Los Angeles, party time.

One big name after another arrived at the venue to attend the celebration for Batman Begins surpassing 600 million at the global box office.

The reporters clicked their shutters again and again.

The flashing lights lent the party an air of decadent glamour.

Of course, the reporters were kept outside. At most, they could take photos through the doors, their eyes straining to see inside.

A tiny number of female reporters entered the party on the arms of "important figures," holding their heads high and drawing envious, jealous, resentful stares from countless male reporters.

As one of the central figures of the party, Anton stood at the entrance greeting the big names.

Some he knew, some he did not.

At that moment, everyone acted like old friends who had not seen each other for years.

Beside Anton stood Jim Lambert, who had returned to the ranks of top-tier producers through Batman Begins.

Jim was in high spirits now, having completely shaken off the gloom of previous years.

"When are you planning to shoot the second Batman movie?"

Once most of the guests had arrived, Jim finally found time to discuss business with Anton, whom he had not seen for days.

"It's already being planned."

Anton replied, "Besides Batman, I have several other projects I'm preparing to push forward at the same time. Jim, have you considered what I asked Betty to discuss with you?"

"You mean joining your newly established DC Company?"

Jim hesitated. "This concerns my future career plans. You need to give me more time to think about it."

"No problem, but I don't have much patience."

Anton said mildly, "You know, Hollywood doesn't have only one producer. Everyone is putting in the effort."

Jim's expression shifted slightly. He said seriously, "I understand. I'll give you an answer as soon as possible."

"All right, let's go in."

Anton changed the subject. "Everyone who should be here has arrived. It's time for the next part of the event."

With that, he walked toward the crowd.

Jim stood where he was, lost in thought for a while. Looking at Anton among the crowd, he gave a faintly bitter smile before following him.

More than ten minutes passed.

A glint flashed through Anton's eyes.

At that moment, if anyone had examined his pupils, they would have discovered that he seemed to be seeing another scene.

This scene did not belong to the party, but to a stretch of profound darkness.

New York, Empire State Building.

Carlos, disguised as a janitor, moved through the corridors.

Rather than saying the Brotherhood had discovered his trail in this final battle, it would be more accurate to say that he had deliberately exposed his location. His goal was to strike a devastating blow against the Brotherhood's elite assassins after making thorough preparations.

Years of being hunted had left him tired of this life.

He intended to settle things with the Brotherhood's experts once and for all.

Either he died, or they did.

Click!

Suddenly, every light inside the Empire State Building went out as someone cut the power.

However, blackouts were common at night and did not draw anyone else's attention. Only Carlos raised an eyebrow.

It seemed the Brotherhood's people had already entered the Empire State Building.

As for the Brotherhood members, when they saw all the lights above them go out, their hearts stirred as well. They assumed it was Carlos's doing.

Neither side knew that a third party had appeared in this final battle.

And that third party was lurking in the shadows, watching everyone.

Yesterday, someone left a chapter comment on Chapter 39 saying the protagonist had lost a bit of his cool factor. I only made a small change to one line of dialogue, and then the comment disappeared. Maybe it got eaten by the system!!

Let me emphasize this: up to now, I have never deleted anyone's comments or chapter comments—except for ads posting group numbers.

As long as it isn't excessively harsh, I accept it all calmly.

That's all!

.