Chapter 755: Return

John Wick had originally killed many people; up to now, the number of people Wang Yan had killed in this world was not comparable to the number of heads John Wick had in the original drama.

But killing people is also different. John Wick went around the world, and they were currently in America. From New York to Chicago, and then all the way from Chicago to San Francisco. The killers along the way were basically all killed by them.

And in the detailed method of killing enemies, Wang Yan always appeared relaxed and easy. Although he would occasionally be hit by bullets, it was clear that it had no effect on John Wick, and it would have even less effect on him. At most, he would just frown slightly; if he moved, it would be his loss.

The destructive power he displayed was many times greater than John's.

Just as Clayton said, he could really control missile launches with computer technology, just like in some movies, but it was just a matter of energy. Missile launches have different programs; he might not be able to control all missiles, but launching a few conventional ones to hear the sound was no problem.

The computer technology he mastered, although it did not deviate from reality, was far ahead of the era. He had researched computers in every world where he had sufficient time; this was exactly the goal he had been striving for until now. Having researched back and forth for several hundred years, if he didn't have this technology, he would have truly lived in vain.

So, truly speaking, he was actually a terrorist who was not defined, and a truly very terrifying one at that.

This was what the financial groups behind the High Table were wary of; after all, a madman with super destructive power, they didn't want to truly force him to be even crazier, leading to mutual destruction where no one benefited.

Wang Yan actually didn't want to truly kill wantonly, because he could definitely live, but whether John could live, that was unknown. Of course, this was if those financial groups were sensible; otherwise, he would truly have to destroy two families to achieve his goal.

He said he would confront and overthrow the High Table, not for fun; he really wanted to do it. If he didn't confront them, how could John retire in peace and enjoy life? If John couldn't retire in peace, how could he complete the mission?

And now, the reason he said everything would end in San Francisco was that it was a test of hard power; it was either them dying or them perishing. He couldn't use a near-impossible thing to constantly scare others. Although he proved that he did have this ability, whether he had used it or not was two different things; this was the same principle as the story of the boy who cried wolf.

So he also had to use an impossible victory to let people witness his strength. Let those people realize that even without playing the game of mutual destruction, he had the ability to make them die; this was a very important point, and this was also the basis for him to have a peaceful dialogue with those high-and-mighty people.

Wang Yan and John got some bread and dried meat from the supermarket shelves and ate and drank heartily with mineral water, replenishing the energy they had consumed.

Just at this moment, the phone thrown on the ground not far away rang; it was a text message reminder. Wang Yan walked over, picked it up, glanced at it, and said to John with a smile: "Our value has increased again; now it's fifty million each."

"Truly good news." Thinking of the desperate battle that was about to come, John also rarely had a bit of humor. He said, "We will win, right?"

"John, relax. The freedom you are looking forward to, you understand, I mean true freedom, is in San Francisco. As long as we are the ones standing there in the end, then we have succeeded. From now on, we can take the money and live a stable life. I will do research, and you will enjoy life. John, you cannot always indulge in the past; perhaps you should consider what kind of person a new wife should be."

"Of course, before that, we should also consider where we should settle down in the future. Considering their untrustworthy situation, we should be further away. It cannot be an island; there must be land for us to retreat to. There must also be good public security there, and the economy cannot be too bad. Is there any place you want to go?"

John Wick pondered for a long while and asked: "China?"

"Do you think what the two of us did is welcome? Besides, I don't have time to clear my name now; how could I go back? You have to know, whether one works for the country has a very big impact on us."

Hearing Wang Yan's words, John nodded knowingly, eating food consciously. He thought for a long while again and said: "What do you think of Greece? Athens?"

"It is a developed country, has history and culture, and the climate is not bad. Okay, it's decided. After the matter here is over, we will go to Athens and start a new life there."

Wang Yan clapped his hands, approving of John's proposal.

Increasing the bounty only stimulated more people to risk their lives. As for the two of them, who was more expensive, it actually didn't matter. Because if Wang Yan died, John Wick would definitely die. And if John died and Wang Yan lived, then the High Table could be considered to have regained some face.

However, if John Wick really died, Wang Yan would truly let them witness what madness was...

After eating and resting a bit, they randomly found a Hummer, checked it inside and out to confirm there were no bombs or anything, and the two got in the car and continued on their way.

They had already traveled half the distance. With this battle, the journey ahead was very quiet, and no one came to seek death again. It was also because of this that Wang Yan and John Wick walked and stopped, the previous fatigue was gone, and their spirits were restored.

They stayed at the last rest area before entering San Francisco for half a day, ate and drank their fill, and only entered the scope of San Francisco in the afternoon.

As soon as they entered, they clearly felt the difference; there were quite a few cars following behind them. This was not yet the center of San Francisco, just a location in the suburbs. At this time, there shouldn't have been so many cars. Clearly, these were all here to kill them.

They didn't stop, but went all the way to the area north of San Francisco. This could be considered an industrial area, and there were factories of all sizes nearby. And where they were going was a bulletproof vest manufacturing factory. There was production here, and there was also a laboratory. The material for the bulletproof suits came from here.

However, Wang Yan just drove around here once and parked the car outside an adjacent electronics factory.

Since Clayton had already learned about the situation from Gianna, he would inevitably know what Wang Yan was doing in San Francisco. So this final battleground was actually the bulletproof vest production factory.

As a central city in the western part of America, how could San Francisco allow a group of killers who don't see the sun to engage in a large-scale gunfight in the city? So they didn't really fight in the urban area.

For the sake of insurance, Wang Yan didn't choose the bulletproof vest factory; he was a latecomer, and who knew if there were bombs inside? It was better to change to another place. As for whether there would be trouble with a gunfight in the electronics factory, that was none of his business; it was all a problem for the Rock family to solve. Just like their journey all the way here, there were constantly professional teams cleaning up the corpses behind them.

As time passed, the sun went down, and the sky darkened. Cars kept driving toward this side, and people kept gathering. The road, which only had many people during commuting hours, was suddenly congested.

At this time, those who dared to come here were all players who thought they had some skills; otherwise, they wouldn't dare to come near here at all. Of those blocking here, counting one by one, each had to be shot at least three times; they were all ruthless people.

Watching the streetlights turn on, Wang Yan said to John Wick, who was staring at the crowd in a daze, not knowing what he was thinking: "It looks like there must be hundreds of people; you pay attention to ensuring your own safety, don't fall at the last moment."

John Wick didn't speak, just nodded in silence. To say he wasn't nervous would be a lie. In a trance, he even saw his late wife summoning him. But he also had expectations; he had been to Athens before; it seemed that living a new life there would also be not bad...

Wang Yan didn't care; he just got out of the car carrying his gun openly. Now he was holding the spoils from before, all HK416s.

A gunfight and a fistfight are not the same thing. After all, firing a bullet only requires a light pull of the trigger. Killing a person, however, requires a lot of strength. This is a factory, with workshops and office buildings, and there is a lot of space to maneuver. Although the atmosphere is indeed very oppressive, it is actually just about that. One will definitely be shot, but the intensity of the battle is far worse than close-quarters combat.

Wang Yan now has a physical fitness several times stronger than ordinary people; he couldn't fight this kind of battle where one person fights hundreds. If there were no guns, his first reaction would be to run.

John Wick was the same. He got out of the car, carried his gun by Wang Yan's side, and the two just walked into the factory like that.

After they entered the factory, the people on the street immediately took action. Dividing into all directions, they surrounded the factory and pressed in.

After only a few minutes, a crisp gunshot broke the solemnity of the place and turned into a real slaughter. After the first gunshot, the sound of gunfire never stopped...

Just as the gunfire was intense inside, more than a dozen cars came again. The difference was that this time, most of them were Asian faces, and many looked like experts at a glance. Carrying guns and swords, they had a very different spirit.

They didn't stay at the gate either, but rushed directly into the office building, joining the activity of surrounding and killing Wang Yan.

Yes, it was surrounding and killing Wang Yan. By now, John Wick had long been an unimportant small character, although he himself was also a legendary figure who had been famous for a long time, but compared to the damage caused by Wang Yan, John Wick's destructive power was far behind.

The foreigners talked to Wang Yan on the phone with the gentlemanly demeanor on the surface and the temperament of a big shot who could play, but in private, they had long been cursing hysterically. Cultivation is relative. When offended, they were all kinds of f-words...

After those Asian faces went in, more than twenty cars came again. This time, the people who got out of the car were the same tactical equipment as those who blocked them at the rest area before, with more than a hundred people. They moved very quickly, entered the factory directly after getting out of the car, and acted in groups. They didn't go in, but blocked every exit.

If anyone ran, they would be shot to death; if anyone fell from upstairs and wasn't dead, they would be shot again. They didn't communicate, just blocked there coldly.

Entering the battlefield too early was useless. Although this office building was very large, it was very crowded for combat. Firing a burst of shots, only to find that they were shooting their own people...

But the actual situation in the building was not like this. Wang Yan and John Wick were on the top floor; John guarded the side stairs, while Wang Yan was very simple: carrying a meat shield and firing headshots.

After only a few minutes of fighting, there was no place to step in the corridor. And Wang Yan was still the attacking side; he was in the corridor, one person, one gun, suppressing those people.

The scene in the corridor was extremely terrifying; the ground was corpses, and the walls and ceiling were all blood. Wang Yan killed his way out from the bloody path, matched with the faint smile still hanging on the corner of his mouth, like a devil killed out of hell.

Limited by space and the intensity of the battle, his suit and leather shoes, which had been clean all the way, finally got bloodstains on them.

Just like that, he killed his way through a floor. For a time, the whole building was quiet. Immediately after, there was a burst of hurried footsteps moving away. Not long after, there was a burst of gunfire outside the building. After a while, the building fell into dead silence again.

John Wick, also covered in blood, sat paralyzed on the ground and let out a long breath. He was different from Wang Yan; the blood on Wang Yan was splattered on him, while the blood on him was because he had been fighting on the ground with people, rolling in it.

Before John could finish his breath, someone downstairs spoke in Chinese with a heavy Southeast Asian accent: "Wang Yan, you are also a martial arts practitioner. I heard it was to pursue greater strength that you caused such a big thing. Why don't we put down our weapons and spar?"

Wang Yan was a bit surprised, but not much. He asked calmly: "Which gang are you all from?"

The reply came quickly from downstairs, mentioning the Liu family of the Hongmen, the Zhang family of Southeast Asia, etc. Clearly, these were the mysterious families Wang Yan had found when he first arrived.

After reporting their family background, they didn't get a reply from Wang Yan. The person who spoke first continued: "I know you young people have bad tempers, and don't think we are rebels. Everyone left their hometowns just to make a living. Since we are making a living on someone else's land, we have to follow someone else's rules. Look, with one phone call, the Southeast Asian ones flew over by chartered plane. We have no choice either."

Wang Yan distinguished the direction of the voice and silently took a grenade out of the space. While pulling the ring, he replied: "Of course, who isn't forced by circumstances? I completely understand you."

"Then regarding my proposal, what do you think... f***..."

It turned out that while he was speaking, Wang Yan nimbly jumped down the stairs and threw the grenade directly over.

The US military-standard M67 delayed-action lethal grenade has a lethal range of fifteen meters. For the space of the corridor, this was completely enough to blow up a circle of people.

Hearing a loud bang, Wang Yan didn't say a word, held a Desert Eagle in each hand, turned around against the wall, and fired a burst of double-gun shots. He saw it very clearly; these people all had guns in their hands and wanted to trick him into throwing away his guns and fighting hand-to-hand; it was truly heartless. With the double-gun shooting, he headshot more than ten people in the first instance, and then flashed back to the corner.

These people reacted and wanted to rush out and concentrate fire while Wang Yan was changing magazines, but it was a pity. They only rushed two steps and hadn't even raised their guns. Wang Yan, who only flashed to the corner, raised his pitch-black muzzle and flashed out again, firing another round of volleys without hesitation.

After two rounds like this, counting the intimate greeting of the grenade, more than half of these fifty-plus people were finished. For the seven or eight people standing in the back, Wang Yan decided to compare martial arts with them.

He didn't take out his own precious sword, but as the corpses fell, he directly pulled out a machete from a dead ghost who was carrying a sword, took advantage of the momentum to cut off one person's hand, then turned his head to cut the throat, and at the same time kicked out, leaned in, and swung the sword to cut, not giving these few people any chance to fire their guns at all.

To tell the truth, he had practiced martial arts until now. He hadn't had a chance to display his various ultimate moves. Because although these people did have true inheritance, they couldn't keep up with his speed. He kicked out plainly, and these people might be able to react, but their body speed couldn't keep up. Just as they were about to defend, they were kicked away in the next second.

After cutting for only ten seconds or so, of the people who could stand on this floor, except for Wang Yan, only a blind man wearing sunglasses who was defending nervously with a sword remained.

"Caine?" John Wick's voice came from behind.

It wasn't that he didn't want to help, but he had only just arrived here, and there were already corpses all over the ground, and only an old friend of his was standing there helplessly.

He even had the mind to recall that it seemed this was the first time he had seen this old friend so panicked since he had known Caine; so he was afraid of death too...

Who isn't afraid of death? Caine put down his sword. "John." He responded, and at the same time inserted the sword into the solid wood cane; he wasn't fighting anymore.

This person was a familiar face, but not a familiar face from the film and television world, but this person looked like Donnie Yen. A blind man, working as a killer. His hearing was sensitive, and he fought as if he could see. This was something that could be accepted compared to John Wick falling from upstairs, rolling out eighteen poses to the ground, and still being able to jump around.

In this story, he was also a ruthless person who had retired from the world. Because he wanted to kill John Wick, the High Table threatened him with his daughter to go out and kill John. In the end, he didn't kill John but provided help and left alive. Only John Wick fell under the morning sun.

Wang Yan looked at John Wick: "Friend?"

"Yes, friend." John nodded and introduced, "Caine Raymond, this is his English name. He immigrated from Hong Kong and is a member of the Hongmen."

"Zhang Shiyuan." Caine introduced himself in Cantonese, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do, so I took an English name."

Wang Yan raised his eyebrows and didn't say anything.

John asked: "Is it for your daughter?"

"Yes." Caine nodded without hiding it.

"Wang, he is in the same situation as me, and he is my old friend. I think, can you help him?" John Wick's little brother consciousness had already been cultivated; he was winning while lying down...

"Why can't I? Killing one more or one less doesn't have much impact on us."

Wang Yan decided to give face to the familiar face and the mission target; it was all a matter of no importance. He continued, "Caine, you can wait here, or you can join. There are still quite a few people outside. If we can fight to the end, then I will ask for your daughter. Oh, by the way, after the matter is over, John and I plan to go to Athens; perhaps you can go together too."

After speaking, Wang Yan fired a shot to break the glass, fired a few shots at the bottom, and then retracted his head. Not surprisingly, the position just now was covered by dense bullets; they shifted their muzzles and shattered all the glass. Immediately after, several smoke bombs were thrown in, and dense footsteps sounded, thus declaring the start of the final round of battle.

John consciously ran to the corner to block people, and Caine listened attentively and sensibly followed behind John.

Glancing at the two of them, Wang Yan ignored the choking smoke and walked to the room in front, standing quietly at the doorway waiting.

He had long seen the situation below. This time, more than four hundred people came. He had killed half of them, and the rest were scared out of their wits, basically all shot to death by the High Table people below.

After having already sent dozens of people and having already failed, they got another hundred-man team over. It was conceivable that these people were definitely more powerful than the previous ones, belonging to the ace of aces of the High Table.

So Wang Yan very naturally grabbed the person charging in the front row, very skillfully held his gun to the neck, bang, and transcended the dirty soul. He was killing the aces...

He felt the difference in the first instance. The level of these people was about the same as John Wick's; this was an initial product of the super-human project. The tactical equipment they wore seemed to be of a different model than before, with more powerful defensive capabilities. The Desert Eagle's close-range shooting only made them sway slightly; nothing happened.

Wang Yan shook his head. This time, the opponent's assault was too fierce, and they had already blocked his front. And John Wick's safety on the other side was also a problem; he didn't have a chance to shoot them in the hand one by one to dismantle their combat effectiveness.

He had no choice but to kick the person blocking his front to the people behind. In the next instant, he performed the action of drawing a sword from his back. The "Hanfeng" sword, pitch-black with gilded patterns, didn't stop, and he slashed diagonally, cutting off the arm at the middle of the upper arm.

The bulletproof vests of these people were all lined with ceramic or other materials. The sharpness of Hanfeng, matched with his strength, could achieve a clean cut. It was just that it was too energy-consuming; he couldn't cut so many people, so he could only cut hands and feet.

This also further proved the power of a set of iron armor in ancient times. Such great power of bullets could basically be fully defended against. Armor, really, could not be easily broken; how desperate people without armor were, one could imagine.

Now it was night, and it even started to rain for no reason. The power in the office building was also cut off, and only a little faint light could be seen. Before entering the factory for the decisive battle, Wang Yan didn't wait in vain; he had already controlled the monitoring here. The only thing that wasn't too good was that these people all wore professional recorders. Wang Yan didn't know how many people were watching him fight on the other end, but he knew those people must be terrified.

Considering John Wick's life-and-death problem, Wang Yan no longer held back, carried his sword, and plunged into the ranks of the High Table aces. It was still the same routine: cut the arms above, kick and break the legs below, and kick the crotch.

These people were indeed stronger than the previous ones, but to him, a kick was still a kick, and a slash was still a slash; it seemed there was no difference. It was just that Wang Yan himself knew how much strength he consumed.

Wang Yan's goal, dead or alive, but there must not be a single person who could possess even one arm, possess even one good leg. This scene was more bloody, and Wang Yan was covered in a layer of blood. His hairstyle was long gone; what dripped was not sweat, but all blood.

The bleeding of dozens of people's two arms could truly flow into a river.

The necessary cover-up had to be done. Wang Yan returned to the first room, put away Hanfeng, and instead carried that machete. As for the "broken" machete, it was also carefully crafted, worth a lot, and could be called a divine weapon.

He took out the Desert Eagle, walked over, kicked two people away, grabbed a person who was riding on John, and fired a shot at his neck, bang, ending the dirty soul. After saving John, he did the same and saved Caine, who was already looking like he couldn't hold on.

Only then, in the relieved eyes of the two, did he solve the remaining few people.

He took out a pack of cigarettes, lit one for himself, and threw the rest, including the lighter, to the two: "Not injured, right?"

John shivered and lit his cigarette before replying: "Stabbed twice, but avoided the vital points; I feel okay."

"I'm about the same." Caine answered on his own. Previously, Wang Yan didn't call his Chinese name, nor did he speak Chinese with him, so he knew Wang Yan didn't like him very much. But now he had no way back; when you meet a big thigh, you have to hug it tight; don't worry about face or anything.

Covered in blood and pitch-black, one couldn't see the injuries at all. Wang Yan stepped forward and took their pulses, was quiet for a long while, and nodded: "The problem is not big."

John's injury was heavier, while Caine was much better. Although John was known as Baba Yaga, he was not as adaptable to the dark as Caine, the blind man.

"I said there was no problem. It's good you came in time, Wang; if you were a bit later, I might have gone to see Helen."

John's words became more frequent and relaxed. Perhaps it was because he had experienced the most intense life-and-death crisis of his life and had passed it quite smoothly, which rejuvenated him.

Wang Yan smiled: "You two rest for a while; I'll go finish them off."

He had a cigarette in his mouth, put away his pistol, picked up a rifle from the ground, walked over, and finished off another round at their necks one by one. And then he walked slowly, his big leather shoes stepping into the pool of blood, the sound strange, in the silent corridor, making one's hair stand on end.

Especially making those who were lying in a mess, broken arms and broken legs, blood flowing all over the ground, but still not dead, feel their hair stand on end. Closer, the devil's footsteps were closer...

Wang Yan had a cigarette in his mouth, used the barrel of the rifle to flip the chins of these dead ghosts, and then pulled the trigger without hesitation. He was already a blood man; where would he care about whether it was elegant or not? Just like that, one shot, one shot, and another shot; those who were dead had to be shot, and those who weren't dead had to be shot even more.

After everything was done, Wang Yan pulled a recorder off a corpse, shone it at the pile of corpses, and then pointed the camera at himself: "Respected gentlemen, and perhaps ladies, let everything end in San Francisco, is our agreement, so may I ask if there is any subsequent attack?"

"If there is, be quick; my patience is limited; I don't want to perform for you here. If not, also be quick; cancel the bounty, send me the things I want, and I will wait for you at the hotel. Oh, by the way, there is also the matter of Caine's daughter. Don't play tricks or engage in small actions; I guarantee the consequences will be very serious."

"By the way, remember to clean up the scene as soon as possible; this is not an easy thing."

In San Francisco, New York, Rome, Tokyo, Bangkok, Paris, London, Moscow, and other Continental Hotel locations, as well as various unknown luxurious manors, countless people looked at the man on the screen, his face wrapped in scabs formed by blood, his eyes deep, full of indifference to life, his mouth still raised, revealing a careless smile. That was the ultimate madness; that was calmness.

Just looking at the transmitted images, the tips of their noses were already filled with the smell of blood, and they couldn't help but start vomiting. They couldn't imagine how this man, this man from the East, managed to smile in such an environment?

Those eyes seemed to have truly crossed space, seemed to have truly been watching them, as if they should also be one of those in the pile of corpses. They swore with their dirty souls that this man was a devil in the human world...

Wang Yan didn't think the so-called High Table could have any more means. This time, the organized combat unit of more than a hundred people who had undergone genetic modification was not so easy to get. Although he killed them easily, any one of these people pulled out would have John Wick's destructive power. And John Wick's destructive power had already been proven. So one could imagine how difficult it was to want such a team.

Especially since these people were slashed by Wang Yan like that and didn't collapse until the last person fell; there were clearly some tricks here. That is, there was still a part of substitute power, or even stronger power. But no matter how strong, it was just about that; it didn't delay Wang Yan from grabbing them by the collar like little chickens and shooting them in the neck.

The financial groups might still have some means, but clearly not to the point of fighting him to the end for this little thing. And whether they could win was still unknown. If capital triples, people will go crazy. If their lives are threatened by one-third, people will weigh the pros and cons.

Wang Yan wouldn't care how they weighed it; what needed to be said had been said. He threw away the night vision goggles and walked toward John again, stepping into the pool of blood. However, this time, the hair-raising feeling was only for himself to hear. In this building, except for the three of them who were still breathing, there wasn't a single living person left.

Back at the corner of the stairs, John and Caine had already stood up, leaning against the wall to relax their bodies.

Wang Yan waved his hand: "Let's go, go to the Continental Hotel."

"Already contacted?" John asked.

"I said it to the recorder; they will see it."

"What about the bulletproof material?"

"They will consider it thoroughly, don't worry. They have so many people; can't they figure out what we want? Also, I mentioned Caine's daughter; they will handle it."

Caine's existence was indeed a help. After all, if John Wick had to fight ten or so enemies of similar level alone, he would have been lying with those dead ghosts by now.

So Wang Yan once again realized the importance of being kind to others, so he was a bit better to Caine, which could be considered a reward.

Caine, who was supporting John with one hand, hurriedly expressed his gratitude: "Don't worry, Wang, I will definitely follow your footsteps in the future."

Wang Yan waved his hand carelessly: "We are going to Athens to live a quiet life, not to look for trouble. At most, we will talk to the hooligan boss there, make friends, and ensure that no one disturbs our life; that is enough. Get ready, friends; the Goddess of Victory is smiling at us, and a new life is beckoning to us."

It seemed that a night without rain did not fit the overall atmosphere. Today, the weather was beautiful, and the rain became heavier and heavier. The three people who came out of the office building stood in a row tacitly, looking up at the falling rain, letting the heavy rain pour down, soaking them through.

But the rainwater flowed around the three of them, and it wasn't clean when it came out. Especially Wang Yan, who was even less clean. The blood on him hadn't completely coagulated, and the clothes made of special materials couldn't soak up too much blood. At this moment, when the rainwater poured down, starting from his hair, the blood mixed in, flowing from his trouser legs to the ground; in a short while, it dyed a large area red.

Wang Yan rubbed his hair, washed his face and hands, and only then took John and Caine out of the factory, checked all the spaces inside and out, and confirmed there were no bombs. Wang Yan drove, and following John's instructions, drove all the way to the Continental Hotel in San Francisco.

The Continental Hotel is not short of money, so the location of the Continental Hotel in San Francisco is as good as the one in New York, near the center of the Bay Area where every inch of land is worth an inch of gold. Hooligans hiding in the darkness and various rich people engaged in high technology are in the same place; it is very arrogant.

But truly speaking, these killers and hooligans, entering and leaving the Continental Hotel, are all dressed in suits and leather shoes, looking like people, which is quite like the real thing.

Parking the large Hummer at the hotel entrance, Wang Yan got out of the car with his computer bag, stood in the rain, and looked up at the equally tall hotel. He didn't use the doorman to hold an umbrella, looked for tens of seconds, and only then stepped into the hotel.

Just kidding, why was he standing in the rain getting soaked? Wasn't it to let the blood on him flow to the ground? The previous pouring only left dampness, so he had to pour it again. Killing to establish prestige still requires people to feel it at close range. Although he wanted to retire from the world, the world did not allow there to be no legend of him.

He walked up the steps all the way, and as his legs moved, he drew a long trail of blood. Just like that, carrying John and Caine, he walked into the Continental Hotel step by step.

"Mr. Wang, we finally meet; I am Clayton."

Clayton was a middle-aged man, over 1.8 meters tall, with a sturdy build from fitness habits. The intelligence of a Jew didn't make him bald; his hair was still quite lush and carried some curls. Dressed in a suit and leather shoes, with brown eyes, he looked very spirited. According to both Eastern and Western aesthetics, he could be called handsome.

But facing Wang Yan, he showed an unnatural smile and took the initiative to reach out his hand.

Wang Yan nodded with a smile: "Thank you for valuing the three of us so much."

"Wang, this is all as it should be. We agreed to let everything end in San Francisco. Yes, it has ended now, and the result is what we are all willing to see. The High Table has revoked the bounty on you and Mr. Wick and restored your registration qualifications."

"So Clayton, you brought what I wanted, right?"

"Of course, Wang, do you want to rest for a while? We can talk later." Clayton looked down at Wang Yan's trouser legs, where blood was still dripping. The black suit had now become dark red. He was close, and his breathing was filled with the heavy smell of blood, making him unable to help but think of the images transmitted back by the recorder before...

"Let's do it now; you are also very busy, aren't you?"

"Of course, then shall we go to the restaurant over there and talk while eating?"

"Why not? Clayton, John and I haven't had lunch yet."

Arriving at the restaurant, as soon as they sat down, meals and wine were spread all over the table; one could tell they were made just in time. And from the moment they entered the hotel, except for the hotel manager carrying the bag, they didn't see anyone else.

Wang Yan didn't care about the thoughtful service of this financial group descendant; what he was thinking about was the rain he stood in at the hotel entrance before, which was in vain...

Watching Wang Yan and the three start to eat and drink, Clayton took the box from the hotel manager and opened it: "Wang, considering that you don't have a formal identity in America, we helped you join the American nationality; this is your passport and New York ID. In addition, we have prepared three billion US dollars; you need to provide an account. This money is completely legal and will not deduct a cent of your tax."

"As for the data on the genetic project you care about most, considering the trust between our two sides, currently, all laboratories have been connected to the external network; you can copy them at will with your own technology. As for Mr. Raymond's daughter, I am very sorry; I can guarantee that we will never disturb her life again."

"Wang, do you have any other requirements? If possible, we will try our best to satisfy them, for example, if you don't approve of the amount of money, you can bring it up. This is for our friendship."

For them, money is the most useless thing. What they control are countless material resources, renewable, non-renewable, high-tech, financial banks, etc.; this is the foundation of their being behind-the-scenes pushers. Moreover, this money was not just from the Rock family alone.

As for the American nationality, Wang Yan didn't care; what he valued was the data of those genetic projects.

Wang Yan raised his eyebrows with a smile: "Testing me?"

"You must not misunderstand, Wang; it's just that if I brought the hard drive, you might find it hard to believe its authenticity."

"Even if I find it myself now, it would also be hard to believe its authenticity. I will verify it later; if it's wrong, then we can talk about it properly."

Wang Yan pushed away the plates on the table, took out his computer and hard drive, and operated them in front of Clayton. Gianna provided a directory of laboratories, including bulletproof materials, totaling thirteen. Wang Yan didn't take long to break through their security protection. Although there was resistance, it had no effect. This was an open invasion; if it were a secret action, the greater possibility was that they were gearing up to do a big job, but he had already obtained what he wanted.

Dealing with them was very simple, but the international jump copying speed was indeed a bit slow. He casually put the computer aside, ignored Clayton's horrified eyes, and continued to eat heartily.

His consumption today was indeed very large. Although he looked relaxed, it wasn't so easy to kill. He actually added points to restore his physical strength.

"I don't know what you plan to do next?" Clayton made conversation.

"Go to Athens. I don't intend to be your enemy; I just wanted some data. I will open a laboratory in Athens and find someone to verify the truth of these data. At the same time, I will live quietly."

"However, I hope you can help me build a laboratory in Athens. You know, for this kind of experiment, money alone is not enough. And even if it is verification, it is also a very large expenditure. I am not a big family like you and cannot afford it."

"Yes, to tell you the truth, Wang, we had already thought of this request of yours and were preparing the relevant experimental equipment. However, wanting to build the laboratory completely might take a longer time."

"It's fine if it's built within a year; I'm not busy. Under such conditions now, I can accept it. Clayton, if there's nothing else, you can go; I hope we don't meet again."

Clayton didn't care, raised his glass to toast Wang Yan: "Of course, although we have a deep friendship, it's better for us not to meet. Since that's the case, then I'll take my leave. Goodbye, Wang."

Wang Yan raised his glass to signal a farewell.

This is the benefit of proving one's strength, especially since in their eyes he might still be a madman. Compared to the more unestimable losses, these things now, although important, are not that important. Besides, Wang Yan only copied them and didn't destroy them. Although it was hard to accept, thinking about the mountain of corpses and sea of blood at the electronics factory, it wasn't so hard to accept.

Seeing Clayton leave, Wang Yan greeted John Wick and Caine, who was determined to hug his thigh: "Come on, let's celebrate. For this victory, for this freedom, cheers."

Three men, dark red and soaked, with bloodstains all over their seats and tables, laughed loudly, their glasses clashing and ringing; that was the sound of freedom.

There are many kinds of sounds of freedom: the crying of seagulls soaring, the crashing waves of the Aegean Sea, are also freedom. This is the hometown of Western philosophy, where great sages once discussed freedom.

John Wick's freedom was just getting a small sampan, occasionally going out to sea to play. Returning to the shore, and then communicating with his new girlfriend. Thinking of nothing, doing nothing, just wasting time like this, day after day, he enjoyed it. He seemed to have become a different person, no longer a man with a cold face all day, but a man who loved to laugh. He enjoyed the retirement life that was not... not easy to come by, but truly belonged to him.

Seeing Clayton leave, Wang Yan greeted John Wick and Caine, who was determined to cling to his coattails, with a chuckle: "Come, let us celebrate. To this victory, to this freedom, cheers."

Three men, their clothes dark red and soaked through, with bloodstains all over their seats and the table, laughed heartily as their glasses clinked together—that was the sound of freedom.

There are many kinds of sounds of freedom: the soaring cry of seagulls, the crashing waves of the Aegean Sea—these are also freedom. This is the homeland of Western philosophy, where great sages once debated freedom.

John Wick's freedom meant getting a small sampan and going out to sea to play whenever he had nothing to do. Returning to shore, he would then exchange pleasantries with his new girlfriend. Thinking of nothing, doing nothing, just wasting time like this, day after day, he took pleasure in it. He seemed to have become a different person, no longer cold-faced all day long, but a man who loved to smile. He enjoyed the retirement life that was hard-won... or rather, relatively easily won, that truly belonged to him.

Having just used high-powered binoculars to watch the sweetness of John Wick flirting, Wang Yan, wearing a casual floral short-sleeved shirt and shorts, casually tossed the binoculars aside. Ignoring the woman he didn't know very well who was still fast asleep on the big bed in the room behind him, he sprawled on a lounge chair, leisurely enjoying the breeze, swirling his red wine glass, and overlooking the scenery of the Aegean Sea...