True Order

Charlie and his band of strong men swiftly gathered the stolen valuables from the bearded man and the deadly female assassin, placing them on a silver tray before Wick.

"These belong to him," Wick motioned towards Jack.

Apologizing with a slight bow, Charlie respected Jack and Wick, then signaled his subordinates to bring the tray to Jack.

Glancing at the items, Charlie remarked, "This gentleman seems a bit unfamiliar." He handed Jack another business card. "If you ever need it, you can call us to arrange meals. No matter when or where we'll be there on time."

"Thank you," Jack replied, picking up nine of the ten gold coins found on the bearded man and the female killer. "Your service is excellent."

Regretfully, Charlie spoke up, "Ah... I apologize, sir; I failed to clarify earlier. It's one gold coin per person."

"You're right," Jack nodded, indicating the remaining gold coin on the tray. "Here's one."

"And," Jack pointed to the female killer who had just been wrapped up by Charlie's subordinates, "There's another one."

"Apologies once again," Charlie shook his head. "I have complete confidence in the thoroughness of my subordinates. There won't be any valuable items on that lady."

"Hmm," Jack chuckled, "you must have missed a spot. Check inside her head—I gave it a good flick."

Charlie paused, his gaze shifting towards his subordinates.

The men froze for a couple of seconds before rushing back to double-check.

Without wasting time, Charlie swiftly departed with his team, firmly etching Jack's name in his mind. Anyone capable of prompting Wick to personally call and order a body collection service, regardless of whether they were an official killer or not, surely had a bright future ahead.

Lions and jackals could never find common ground or become friends. The reality was far from a fairy tale.

Furthermore, Charlie's subordinates shared another piece of news with him, revealing, "The fatal blow to the man's head was severe. Based on the evidence, it appears to be... a single punch."

Charlie's subordinates were experienced professionals in the field of autopsies, lending credibility to their assessment.

"To kill someone with just one punch... Could he be another...."

"Why am I bothering myself with such thoughts? I'm merely a vulture, responsible only for collecting corpses..." Charlie concluded his thoughts.

....

"Care to join me for a drink, John," said Jack, the nine gleaming gold coins dancing between his fingers.

"As tempting as that offer sounds, I've got a laundry list of things to take care of," Wick replied.

Jack raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Ah, I see. So you're trying to dissuade me because you want out of the killer world. But let me guess, it's not that easy for you. And then, fate has it that I come along, ready to dive headfirst into that world. Is that it?"

Wick remained impassive, his resolve unshaken, as he turned to walk away. But Jack was determined to get through to him, to bring him into the fold and make a difference.

"You know, Wick," Jack continued, his voice filled with earnestness, "amongst all the killers in this world, you've got quite the reputation. You're powerful, legendary even. Having someone like you among the Templars would make a real impact on the moves I'm planning to make. So, a little time and patience is a small price to pay.

Jack paused for a moment, considering his words carefully. He couldn't help but feel there was more to Wick's hesitation.

"Of course, if there's more to it," Jack mused, "I can't help but think it's a bit of a waste. But let's cut to the chase, shall we?"

Wick halted in his tracks, his gaze piercing through Jack. He frowned, clearly intrigued. "Are you investigating me?" he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

Jack quickly shook his head, eager to reassure Wick.

"No, no, I can promise you that. All I had were hearsay and rumors about your name and some of your exploits. Just some basic behavioral and psychological analysis, coupled with speculation."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Wick's lips. He had always admired Jack's knack for understanding people.

"Trying to win me over, huh?" Wick chuckled, reminiscing about Jack's previous attempt to recruit him while dismantling the Continental Hotel. He had a feeling he knew what was coming next.

Jack grinned, sliding the gold coins back into his pocket.

"Well, it seems you've caught on. But before you dive into the depths of desperation, let's have that drink first. And afterward... we can talk about something that might just change our lives."

With a curious spark in his eyes, Wick paused, considering Jack's proposition. He realized there might be more to gain from this encounter than he initially thought.

....

In the end, Jack and Wick found themselves in a dimly lit bar, away from the prying eyes of the Continental Hotel. It was the perfect setting for a conversation that required utmost secrecy and discretion.

Jack leaned back against the leather barstool, swirling the whiskey in his glass with a pensive expression. Ever the stoic figure, Wick sat across from him, his piercing gaze fixed upon his companion. An air of weariness surrounded them, a shared understanding of the challenges ahead.

"You know, Jack," Wick spoke with a tinge of resignation in his voice, "I must admit, even I feel a sense of hopelessness and powerlessness in the face of what awaits me."

Jack nodded, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, the legendary John Wick feeling hopeless? Now that's something you don't hear every day. What's got you doubting yourself, my friend?"

Wick let out a weary sigh, his eyes momentarily lost in the swirling patterns of his drink.

"It's just that your goal, Jack, seems even more daunting than mine. I've seen what you're up against, and it's no small feat."

A mischievous grin crept across Jack's face.

"Ah, but that's where you're mistaken, my friend. You see, history is made to be broken and surpassed. No challenge is insurmountable."

Wick's curiosity was piqued, and he leaned in closer. "So, you want to overthrow the Continental Hotel. Tell me, why?"

Jack's eyes gleamed with determination as he raised his glass, clinking it against Wick's.

"Because my mission is to protect order. And this world, my friend, has almost lost all sense of order."

"Order?" Wick questioned, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

"Even if the police know about the existence of killers, they wouldn't dare to arrest them. They hesitate, back away when faced with crime right before them."

Jack leaned back in his chair, a serious expression on his face.

"The order of the world is on the verge of destruction," he declared, his voice laced with concern and a hint of anger.

Wick furrowed his brow, his gaze fixed intently on Jack.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, his curiosity piqued by the enigmatic statement.

Jack's eyes sparkled with a strange gleam as he leaned forward, his voice dripping with intrigue.

"It's very simple, my friend," he replied. "I plan to turn everything taken for granted by the killers into something abnormal."

A sense of disbelief crossed Wick's face as he processed Jack's words.

"You're crazy," he concluded, shaking his head in amusement and concern.

A chuckle escaped Jack's lips. His confidence was undeterred.

"That's because, until now, there hasn't been a real leader," he explained, his voice brimming with conviction. "Wick, look around. How many of these people are killers like us?"

Wick glanced around the room, taking in the ordinary faces of those around him, and finally answered, "None."

Jack nodded knowingly.

"Exactly! The world is filled with ordinary people, waiting for someone to guide and lead them," he asserted.

"They may not be killers but have emotions, desires, and frustrations. It's time to channel that energy and show them a different path. Even if the killers are powerful, how many people can they kill? Hundreds. Thousands, or is it millions? No matter how much they kill, billions will take their place."

Jack grinned, his eyes flickering with a vicious light. He continued.

"The Continental Hotel, for instance, has ties to the government. We know that. But what if there are people within the government who are also dissatisfied with the killers?"

Wick's interest was piqued at the mention of the government's involvement. "You think they'd join us?" he asked, intrigued.

Jack nodded confidently.

"Absolutely. They may be wary for their safety, but deep down, they long for change too," he explained.

"We just need to provide them with a leader who cannot be easily assassinated. Someone who can inspire courage in others."

Wick leaned in, his curiosity fully awakened.

"And what happens once we have this leader?" he inquired.

Jack's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Courage will set off a tidal wave, and hatred will fuel the waves," he said, his words dripping with intensity.

"We will wash away those grains of sand that threaten the sea, submerge them, and bring them back to where they belong..."

Wick finished the sentence, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes.

Jack grinned, a partner-in-crime kind of smile. "That's right, my friend. Together, we'll reshape the world and restore its true order," he declared.

▪▪▪▪