Winston continued speaking:
"In fact, the body's already going cold. It's right behind this wall."
The Adjudicator stared coldly at Winston and said:
"I want to see him."
Winston nodded and led her to where Santino D'Antonio's body was being kept.
The two walked down to the cremation room. Lying on the transfer bed was the corpse of Santino D'Antonio.
The Adjudicator gazed at the body, then said to Winston:
"Santino D'Antonio. A newly appointed High Table member. He sought sanctuary at the Continental… and was killed by Mr. Wick."
She leaned closer, examining the fatal wound on Santino's forehead.
"Looks like a .45 caliber Colt automatic."
After identifying the murder weapon, the Adjudicator stood and looked directly at Winston.
Meeting her gaze, Winston calmly explained:
"I couldn't control Mr. Wick's actions."
The Adjudicator challenged him:
"But he's alive because of you, isn't he?"
Winston admitted it without hesitation:
"Yes."
Seeing his admission, she pressed on:
"You've known Mr. Wick for years. You could even say you're friends, correct?"
"You didn't stop him. You didn't kill him."
"You stood by and let him walk out after murdering Santino D'Antonio right in front of you."
Winston, sensing danger, quickly replied:
"I've excommunicated him from the Continental."
But the Adjudicator wasn't satisfied:
"Yet you still gave him one hour to escape."
Winston's voice lost some of its earlier confidence:
"He broke the rules—inside my hotel."
She responded sternly:
"That's exactly the problem. Your hotel."
"Where does your loyalty lie, Winston?"
Winston defended himself:
"I've served the High Table faithfully for over forty years…"
The Adjudicator's face remained solemn as she said:
"Everything is under the High Table. Service to the Table, beneath the Table."
"I know you've been loyal. But this can't be overlooked."
"Let me be clear—I'm here to judge you."
"You have one week to settle your affairs."
Winston was stunned:
"What did you say?"
The Adjudicator repeated:
"A new manager will be appointed."
"Rules are the only thing that separate us from…"
Winston finished her sentence:
"…animals."
She nodded:
"Exactly. You have seven days."
She turned to leave, but after a few steps, she looked back at Winston:
"If you need assistance during the transition, come see me in Room 217."
Winston watched her go, knowing deep down he was in serious trouble. Because he helped John Wick, the High Table was stripping him of his title as Continental manager. At best, he could name a successor. At worst, he might lose his life. Doing nothing was not an option.
---
Meanwhile, in the conference room…
Smith Doyle was contemplating how to dismantle the High Table. Directly attacking the families behind the 12 seats would provoke violent resistance, and even the Assassins' Guild didn't have enough manpower for a full-scale war.
After all, these 12 families were the most powerful syndicates in the world. Attacking all at once would be suicide. Better to take out one finger than bruise ten.
The guild could strike three targets at once. But after that, they'd need to brace for a vicious counterattack.
Smith reviewed the list of the twelve families and began selecting three as the first strike targets.
Just then, the conference room door opened.
Smith Doyle set down his papers and addressed the man entering:
"Have a seat."
John Wick sat down across from him, silently watching.
Smith asked:
"Have your injuries healed?"
John touched his shoulder and nodded:
"Fully healed. Not even a scar."
"The recovery room here is incredible."
Smith nodded with satisfaction, then said:
"To truly eliminate the High Table, we need to dismantle the forces behind each of the twelve seats."
"Killing the elders won't be enough—they'll just pick new ones from the bloodline."
"Even if we wipe out the main family, they'll raise someone from a branch family to take over."
"We must destroy their entire foundations."
John nodded solemnly. The situation was more serious than he'd thought.
"What do you need me to do?" he asked.
Smith replied:
"We've located eleven of the twelve families. But one remains hidden."
"We only know that this elder's headquarters is somewhere in the Casablanca desert. We're not sure exactly where."
"I need you to find them."
John thought for a moment:
"I know there's an elder out there, but I'm not sure how to find them."
"If I go alone, I might be able to reach them. But if I bring others, they'll never show."
Smith nodded, unsurprised:
"We'll go to Casablanca with you, but only you can seek out the elder."
"Your job is to find them—and stay alive."
John raised a brow:
"It's a desert. How will you find me?"
Smith grinned:
"Just take the Dragon Ball with you. It'll show us where you are."
Surprised that the Dragon Ball could act as a tracker, John nodded thoughtfully.
Smith then pulled out a photo and placed it in front of him:
"This is a senior officer at the Casablanca Continental. She's also your friend."
"She has one of the Dragon Balls—another target of this mission."
John was stunned to see Sofia in the photo. He hadn't expected her to possess a Dragon Ball. But remembering the blood oath contract between them, he realized this just got a lot easier.
—End of chapter—
Enjoying and Wanting more!? Read ahead!
Join my Patreon.com/Tenacious Hare. By Purchasing my Carrot 🥕 Tier, You get 10-15+ chapters ahead and Faster updates
Both Platforms offer the same content, but pick whatever suits you!! Your support and help keeps this story alive.
I Deeply Appreciate your support ❤️❤️
Thank you for supporting my work! 🗿❤️
~ Tenacious Hare 🥕