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What? Pope assassinated?

Sandino's face turned blue and red. Who would have thought that such a big man would encounter such a thing. Although the cardinal below will inherit the Holy See, the aftermath of this major event is bound to have a great impact on Europe, even if it is separated by Even the oceanic America cannot stand alone.

Moreover, he sent John Wick to assassinate his sister in order to get a seat on the High Table Council, and the Pope died there. Could there be any connection between these two things?

Sandino couldn't figure it out, because there was too little information at hand, and he couldn't figure out the connection between the two.

One more thing, his subordinates told him that Ares was missing, and the agreed interception of John Wick did not happen.

But fortunately, Gianna Antonio died. After that, he will sit on the seat of the High Table Council. In short, the goal has been achieved.

Next, he told his men to carefully inquire about Ares' whereabouts, and took out his phone to dial a number.

"Please help me pick up the bounty center."

"..."

"I want to put a reward on someone."

"..."

"John Wick."

"..."

"9305-05."

"..."

"On."

"..."

"7 million."

A bounty was issued for John Wick, and Sandino hung up.

"John, don't blame me." He looked at the oil painting of Napoleon's war in front of him, with his left hand across his chest and his right arm resting on it, with a pensive expression.

...

Jingle Bell.

Jingle Bell.

Jingle Bell.

There are constant text message notifications ringing in the hotel lobby, the gentlemen and ladies talking about jazz on the chairs and the old women who are knitting sweaters leisurely get up, pack their things and go outside.

Charon took out his mobile phone, opened the cover, and his expression changed slightly.

-

Winston, who was sitting in a booth in the corner of the bar on the first floor, took off his glasses, glanced at him with drooping eyelids, and took a sip from the cocktail glass on the table.

He was not surprised that Sandino would cross the river and tear down the bridge.

At the same time, on the flight to New York, a middle-aged man with many age spots on his face, a beard and graying hair took off his top hat covering his face, took out his mobile phone and clicked on the newly received text message.

"Heh, 7 million. Let's start over there. I have to act as soon as possible. After all, 12 o'clock in the evening is the mission deadline."

...

Two hours later, night enveloped New York, the high-rise buildings in Manhattan's financial center were full of neon lights, and all kinds of cars were passing by on the road, with horns beeping and lights flashing.

In a villa in the western suburbs of Queens, Leona, an adjudicator of the High Table Council, sat behind a desk, looking at the Apple computer screen in silence.

She had just received two emails. The first one was the news that Gianna Antonio, one of the twelve directors of the High Table Council, was assassinated by the "Night Demon".

The second letter was about the assassination of His Majesty the Pope on the same day. It also included a few photos. Judging from the profile and figure, it should not be an extremist killer from Europe, America or the Middle East, but an Asian.

Not to mention the management turmoil that may be brought about by Gianna Antonio's killing, the matter on the Pope's side is even more difficult, because the High Table Council is bound to face pressure from the Holy See, and the balance that the two sides have tried to maintain in the past will be broken. Is confrontation or compromise.

The assassination of the pope must pay the price, and it is conceivable that this price will not be easy to pay.

ding dong~

ding dong~

Doorbell rang.

Leona glanced out the window, and there was a delivery van parked on the road beyond the fence.

She stood up and walked to the entrance, opened the door, and there was a female courier wearing a baseball cap and blue overalls outside.

"Please sign here."

Leona glanced at the sender, signed her name with a blank expression, and carried the box with a length and width of about 20cm back to the living room. She tore off the tape on the top and took a look inside. It was a beautiful bronze box. , with carvings and patterns on it, as well as small gadgets made of lacquered gold.

No wonder it feels heavy in the hand.

She pressed the lock, opened the box, and found that there was nothing inside.

"Are you curious why the courier sent an empty box?"

The voice came from behind, and Leona turned her head suddenly, and saw an old man wearing a top hat and a cane by his feet sitting in front of the stairs leading to the second floor.

"Who are you?" She didn't know how he came in quietly, but her intuition told her that the man was dangerous.

The old man stood up, took off his top hat, stepped out of the shadows, and answered irrelevant questions: "Soon you will know what this box is for."

What Leona is most satisfied with about herself is that she is more decisive than many men, so she didn't take it lightly just because the stranger was getting old. She turned around suddenly and ran to the desk at the fastest speed. There was nothing but the notebook she used for work. A computer, and a Glock 43 pistol for self-defense.

Just when her hand was about to reach the grip of the pistol, something caught her calf. Leona looked down and saw that it was the crutch used by the old man. Seeing that she couldn't get rid of it, she picked up the fruit on the table The knife stabbed out.

She thought that the old man was getting old, and no matter how good his skills were before, he was no match for her. As an adjudicator of the High Table Council, her skills were no worse than a high-ranked assassin.

However, what happened next was beyond her expectation. The old man circled his hand and used an unknown movement to slap the dagger to the left, piercing her left shoulder with a bang.

snort.

He only heard a muffled grunt, and a trace of pain flashed in his cold eyes.

How did he know that the other party didn't give her a chance to breathe at all, he took her uninjured hand and slapped it on the desk, raising the knife and dropping it.

Puff.

A dagger pierced her palm and pinned her to the desk.

"Do you know who I am?"

The adjudicator of the High Table Council looked coldly at the old man whose skills did not match his age, his eyes were full of threats and viciousness, even if he was subdued, he still had a high-ranking arrogance.

"Of course, High Table Council Judge Leona, do you know who I am?"

Leona didn't speak, and her heart became more and more heavy, because since the other party knew her identity and dared to do this, then she must have come prepared, but she was very calm on the surface, her eyes were equally cold, the short hair on her head and that face looked like Like a monkey that is always ready to snatch tourists' backpacks.

In the next breath, the old man's face changed, those age spots and wrinkles slowly faded away, and as the beard was ripped off, a handsome man's face appeared in front of her.

This unbelievable disguise technique was still in the second place. She suddenly remembered the email she had just received, and it seemed that the murderer who assassinated the Pope was the man in front of her.

"You guessed right, I was the one who killed the pope, so in my eyes, your identity as the judge of the High Table Council is not much better than the stray dog ​​picking up the trash can outside the window, and... you know I sent you What is the purpose of your box?"

Lin Yue held her head down from behind, and with the other hand held a dagger and slashed at her throat, the blood kept gushing out like water overflowing from a pool.

"Yes, that's for your head, oh, that cost me a lot of money."

One cut, two cuts, three cuts, four cuts, from the front to the back, from cutting blood vessels to picking off tendons, he didn't look like a professional killer at all, because the killing was too slow, not fast enough.

Leona's eyes opened wider and wider, she wanted to speak, but she only let out a whooping panting sound, and every time she twitched, more blood would be ejected from the neck that was constantly cut by the dagger.

A minute later, the head with the disgusting yin and yang face was thrown into the box. Lin Yue picked up the white tablecloth on the table, wiped the blood splashed on his hands, and pushed the bronze box away from the room. door to go out.

Tonight will be a long night for some.

...

It's raining.

The sound of splashing water resounded through the whole street.

A Ford Mustang BOSS429 stopped in front of the food stall with the two red light boxes of "Heike", the door opened, a leather shoe stepped through the two centimeters thick water, and walked towards the opposite light.

After three or five breaths, the owner of the leather shoes sat down on the chair in front of the counter.

The cat lying on the counter stood up, walked in front of him, licked the back of his hand, and meowed twice.

The bald man at the food stall frowned and glanced at him, a little surprised by the cat's reaction, but he didn't stop, pushing a plate with a piece of tuna sashimi in front of the customer.

"Please use."

After saying this, the bald head continued to deal with the puffer fish.

The knife is very sharp, and can easily cut open the belly of the fish, pick out the bone spurs, cut off the poisonous part and the tail, and cut off small pieces of tender meat.

"The knife skills are good." At this time, the customer sitting opposite the food stall spoke, and when he was done, he reached down and put something on the counter when he came out.

The pupils shrank suddenly after the bald head looked at it.