"I'm going to withdraw some money!"

"...Wait, what kind of look is that?"

"Forgive me for speaking out of turn, Mr. Smith."

Charon looked deeply impressed. "In my opinion, you'd be better suited to Broadway or Hollywood. With your talent and... hard strength, you'd definitely gain plenty of opportunities. Becoming an assassin is truly a waste of your gifts."

Xiao Miao spread his hands. "Can't be helped. Becoming an assassin was fate's arrangement. It was all the timing's fault. Forget that—do you have any jobs suitable for me?"

Charon raised a hand toward an empty seat in the lobby. "Please rest for a moment. A waiter will bring you the 'menu.'"

Xiao Miao sat down in the empty seat and waited. Quite a few assassins around him were browsing their own "menus."

Most of them had drinks in front of them. Xiao Miao did not order anything; he could not afford that kind of pretentious expense right now.

At the Continental Hotel, assassin services could only be paid for with gold coins, not dollars. One gold coin equaled one request: one drink, one night's stay, one supply of guns and ammunition, or one custom suit.

One gold coin was worth roughly five hundred thousand dollars, but no one was stupid enough to trade gold coins for Franklins.

The waiter did not keep Xiao Miao waiting long before bringing over a "menu." Its front and back covers were made from some kind of animal hide. It might not have felt good in the hand, but it was definitely expensive.

In short, it had style!

Xiao Miao flipped through the menu several times, his brows furrowing deeply.

"Kill a cheating wife, butcher a heartless man, kill a boyfriend who witnessed his girlfriend having a threesome... Huh, there are even jobs involving international students? Beat up a supervisor, assassinate the neighbor's annoying dog... What the hell is all this?"

The world mission record only allowed five commissions. How could he waste them on such low-grade jobs?

Xiao Miao went to find Charon and asked whether there were any other assignments. Charon said there were plenty of higher-end jobs, but Xiao Miao's assassin rank—or rather, his reputation—was not high enough for him to accept them.

Unless the client specifically requested Xiao Miao, or the High Table gave the word, rules were rules and could not be changed.

Xiao Miao said he understood. He planned to rent a place near the hotel and come wait for new commissions every day. Halfway there, Saeko Busujima's aggrieved voice sounded through their soul link.

"Master, if you need it, Saeko... Saeko can do it too. There's no need to find some improper woman."

Saeko Busujima was jealous!

Xiao Miao's expression instantly turned serious, and his solemn voice entered Saeko's mind. "It's different, Saeko. You're different from all of them!"

"Huh?"

"You will always be the most special one to me. How could you possibly be compared to other women? What I have with them is just an act, and I approach them with a clear purpose. Only with you am I sincere."

"So... that's how Master sees it?"

"Of course. We formed a soul contract. You should be able to sense that I'm not lying."

"Mmm~~~"

Saeko Busujima said nothing else. Inside Xiao Miao's body, no one knew what she was thinking.

Xiao Miao touched the katana pattern on his left hand and hailed a taxi by the roadside.

If he wanted to rent a suitable home, asking a local taxi driver was never a mistake.

In the car, the driver barely paid Xiao Miao any attention. Xiao Miao took out a Franklin from his pocket, and while pulling out the money, he accidentally dropped a Beretta M92. The driver instantly became much more talkative and took Xiao Miao to a hidden gem of a rental property that was both cheap and high-quality.

That night, Xiao Miao returned to the New York Continental Hotel and sat idly in the lobby, waiting for commissions to update. There was nothing on the table in front of him, making him look thoroughly shabby.

A classic newbie trait.

Quite a few veteran assassins glanced at Xiao Miao, their eyes carrying a hidden sense of superiority—the condescending gaze of the rich toward the poor.

Xiao Miao did not care how others looked at him. The system prompt urged him to open his panel.

[Ding! Title change detected!]

[Current Title: Somewhat Famous!]

"Somewhat famous?" Xiao Miao was stunned. He had not completed a single commission, so how had he become somewhat famous? What had he even done?

Oh... Perkins.

This reputation did not seem particularly respectable.

The whispers in the lobby grew louder and louder. Words like "John Wick" and "Russian Mob" drifted into Xiao Miao's ears.

Right, judging by the movie's timeline, John Wick should have just been captured by Wego, the Russian Mob boss, and taken to an abandoned factory to be executed.

Xiao Miao suddenly remembered that Wego, the Russian Mob boss, seemed fairly wealthy. There had been a scene in the movie where he opened a safe, revealing a fleeting glimpse of piles of gleaming gold coins inside.

Money was not omnipotent, but without money, one could not take a single step. Money gave men courage; only money brought confidence.

With that thought, Xiao Miao stood and walked over to the front desk.

"Mr. Smith, how may I help you?" Charon asked with a polite smile.

Xiao Miao took out his only gold coin and placed it before Charon. "I need Wego's exact location. Now."

The smile vanished from Charon's face. "Mr. Smith, forgive me for speaking out of turn, but the matter between Wego and the Night Demon, babayaga... If a newcomer rashly interferes, I'm afraid it won't end well."

It was a well-intentioned warning.

Night Demon was John Wick's name within the industry. It was not a title one gave oneself; it was earned through blood and fire.

Xiao Miao smiled and nodded. "Mm, I know."

His tone was calm, yet it carried an unmistakable refusal to be denied.

Charon said, "...All right, if you insist."

He pocketed the gold coin. A moment later, a waiter delivered a card with an address written on it.

Xiao Miao took the card and turned to leave. He had only taken two steps when Charon's voice came from behind him.

"Please wait, Mr. Smith. This is a personal question... What exactly are you planning to do?" Charon's expression was grave.

He was worried about his friend, John Wick.

Reason told him that even if Xiao Miao intended to deal with John, a rookie who had only just entered the business could never stir up any trouble before the Night Demon, but...

But Xiao Miao seemed far too confident. Having worked at the hotel front desk for so many years, Charon prided himself on his ability to judge people. Xiao Miao was definitely no ordinary person.

As for how he was extraordinary, Charon had no idea.

"One gold coin, one request." Xiao Miao stopped and turned to look at Charon. "Those are the rules you set yourselves."

Charon seemed to wake from a dream and hurriedly tossed Xiao Miao a gold coin. "My apologies. I overstepped."

Xiao Miao caught the gold coin. After thinking for two seconds, he casually shoved it into his pocket. "It won't hurt to tell you. I'm going to withdraw some money."

"Withdraw money?"

Charon froze. He had never expected that answer. He wanted to ask more questions, only to discover that Xiao Miao had already turned and left. His figure grew smaller and smaller in Charon's eyes until it disappeared through the hotel entrance.

"Withdraw money..."

Charon turned the phrase over and over in his mind, gradually tasting its meaning. His breath caught. "What an overbearing newcomer!"

In a warehouse somewhere in the city.

John Wick, who looked remarkably like Mr. Savior, was tied to a chair.

Wego, the Russian Mob boss and head of the Tarasov Family, sat across from John Wick. Three underlings stood nearby as his personal guards, while even more patrolled inside and outside the factory.

"John Wick, you're still the same as before. Reckless and ignorant."

Wego's temples were streaked with gray. He appeared to be smiling, but he was actually furious beyond measure.

"Do you know what was in the safe you burned at the church during the day?"

Without waiting for John Wick's answer, Wego continued, "Artwork and cash—those had some value, sure, but that wasn't the important part! The leverage I accumulated in this city over so many years, recordings, physical evidence, blackmail records... Those were the fucking priceless treasures! Priceless treasures! And now they're all gone!"

John pursed his lips, savoring the memory. "Mm. I rather enjoyed burning all that."

Wego laughed in rage and knocked John to the ground with a punch. Hearing the roar of an engine nearby, he could no longer suppress the fury filling his chest. "Which idiot is driving around? Bring him to me!"

"Yes, Boss!"

One underling nodded and headed outside. Wego took the opportunity to shake out his swollen, bleeding fist, then pretended nothing had happened and continued interrogating John.

Before he could say more than a few words, however, the car engine's roar suddenly intensified, and then...

Boom!

A dump truck smashed through the gates. Before its unstoppable, terrifying momentum, the steel doors were as fragile as a sheet of glass.

The underling who had just reached the entrance could not dodge in time and collided head-on with the dump truck. Every bone in his body shattered instantly. He turned into a mangled mass of flesh and flew backward, crashing down in front of Wego.