"Sir, the casualty figures have been compiled."
Kalon, sweating profusely, handed the documents to Winston. "Excluding the Adjudicator and the people he brought, a total of 196 assassins were killed. There were no wounded."
"What about our people?"
"Other than seventy-four assassins from around the world, the rest were ours."
Kalon's expression was grim. The New York Continental Hotel had suffered devastating losses. Coupled with the staff they had lost before, Winston's foundations had been severely shaken.
Moreover, the Adjudicator had died at the New York Continental Hotel. There was a strong chance that the furious High Table would strip Winston of his position as manager.
Once a new manager took office, all of New York would be reshuffled, and chaos would reign for a long time.
"I understand."
Winston rubbed his temples. It was terrible, but there was nothing he could do.
Thinking of his old friend, John Wick, in whom he had placed such high hopes, Winston wondered whether he should make another call. He did not need John to kill Russell; it would be enough if he could help him stabilize his position.
"Sir, the death toll..."
"Speak!"
"Including the Adjudicator and the people he brought, 237 people died inside the hotel. That exactly matches the number of assassins who previously died in the slums."
As he said this, fear flashed across Kalon's face. "I don't know whether it's a coincidence or an accident. If it was deliberate... sir, he's counting the numbers as he kills."
"I understand."
Winston gave a bitter smile. He had provoked someone he should never have provoked. He already regretted taking Stanfield's contract.
But rules were rules. The Continental Hotel had no reason to refuse a contract. Besides, when they accepted it, who could have anticipated such an outcome?
"Sir, if I