Chapter 71: Killing
John Wick followed intel to a flour factory owned by the Hand. In reality, it was a large warehouse. Though lights blazed from within, the massive front gate was tightly shut.
He didn't bother sneaking in.
Instead, he parked the car, popped the trunk, and pulled out a five-shot grenade launcher.
With swift efficiency, he loaded all five rounds, then hoisted the MM-1 launcher onto his shoulder, aimed at a window of the warehouse—and pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
KRAK!
Glass shattered as a grenade shot through the window and exploded inside, a fiery blast erupting in the dark. The shockwave blew out the surrounding windows in a thunderous ripple.
But Wick didn't stop.
He kept firing.
BOOM–BOOM–BOOM–BOOM!
Four more grenades tore into the factory. Fire lit up the night sky, and screams echoed through the chaos.
With smoke still rising, Wick slung on a bandolier bristling with rifle magazines, grabbed an assault rifle, and advanced on the building. Kicking open the warehouse doors, he calmly finished off the wounded lying on the floor.
RAT–TAT–TAT!
---
Meanwhile...
Madame Gao had just learned the attackers from earlier were assassins from New York—and that the reason for the attack was a bounty placed by the Assassin Brotherhood.
The room fell into stunned silence. No one had expected the Brotherhood to strike first. Historically, they never relied on outside mercenaries—this marked a dramatic shift.
As Gao considered the implications, a phone buzzed on the table. She answered with a swipe.
"Boss, we're under attack at the Hell's Kitchen factory! We think it's John Wick—"
"AGH!"
The voice cut out with a scream. Then—silence.
The call hadn't ended.
On the other end, John Wick stood over the body of the man who had been reporting in. He glanced down at the still-connected phone screen, which bore the label "Leader."
He picked it up and spoke:
"You the one in charge of this factory?"
"Daredevil's coming for you. Better hide well."
Madame Gao's expression darkened.
Her voice dropped to a chill.
"John Wick... are you provoking me?"
Recognizing the voice as female and seeing the contact marked "Leader," Wick recalled the dossiers he'd read.
So this was Madame Gao.
He wasn't fazed.
"Think of it that way if you like."
Then he hung up—clean, cold, and final—denying her any further words.
On her end, the dead tone echoed from the phone. Gao struck her cane violently against the marble floor.
CRACK!
The stone beneath her splintered into fractured shards.
"John Wick," she spat his name.
Then she turned to Shin.
"Where are the ninjas I assigned to guard the factory?"
Shin checked the time.
"If all goes well, they'll arrive in under two minutes."
"Stall him," Gao commanded. "At all costs."
She turned to Murakami and the others.
"Let's go. Time to meet this arrogant little pest in person."
Sowanda looked surprised. "Isn't sending all five of us for one John Wick a bit excessive?"
Bakuto shrugged. "I don't mind. A little walk might remind people what we're capable of. Lately, it seems every stray dog thinks they can challenge us."
Madame Gao replied coolly:
"True, one John Wick shouldn't warrant our full attention. But if we don't crush him completely, every lowlife in New York will crawl out of the gutters thinking we're weak."
"Capture him. Extract intel on the Dragon Ball. Then we march straight into the Assassin Brotherhood's headquarters."
"I want this finished tonight."
She knew full well that a massive battle in the daylight would be far harder to contain—even for them. Blood must spill under the cover of darkness.
The others offered no objections.
They assembled their elite forces and headed to the flour factory. Meanwhile, Gao sent other operatives toward the Assassin Brotherhood's base to prepare for a full assault.
---
En route, in her car...
Madame Gao made a call.
On the other end, Wilson Fisk—Kingpin—stood at his office window, watching the last sliver of sunset fade.
"Fisk," Gao began. "The Hand and the Assassin Brotherhood are officially at war. As our partner in New York, you can't just sit this one out."
Fisk answered calmly:
"Madame Gao, my relationship with the Hand is strictly business. I distribute your flour—nothing more. The Brotherhood is no concern of mine. I hold no grudge against them."
Gao let out a cold chuckle.
"Heh."
"Wilson Fisk... the Brotherhood has struck first, and we will retaliate. You really think you'll remain untouched?"
"I know what you're planning," she continued. "But mark my words: the Hand will be the one standing when this is over."
"You can choose to be our partner—or end up under our heel."
"And if you stay out of this, your dream—your empire—will crumble."
"One more thing: you should understand their philosophy."
"The Brotherhood believes justice should be enforced by their own hands. Their so-called peace is built on the blood of people like us."
"To them, law and morality mean nothing. Everything is permitted, remember?"
"Now tell me—if they win, who do you think they'll purge next?"
She didn't wait for an answer.
She hung up.
Kingpin listened to the dial tone, face hardening.
Madame Gao was forcing his hand. If the Hand won, they'd likely move against him next. But if the Assassin Brotherhood prevailed—they'd already dismantled the Russian Mob, the Camorra, the High Table, and now the Hand.
Who would be left?
Him. The King of Hell's Kitchen.
And the Brotherhood didn't negotiate. At best, they might spare his life out of courtesy—but his power would be dismantled.
And given their ideals... even that was uncertain.
Kingpin picked up the phone and issued an order:
"Bullseye. Rally the men. This time... we're not sitting out."
—End of chapter—
Author's Note:
Enjoying the story and want to read ahead?
Join my Patreon.com/TenaciousHare and unlock 20+ chapters in advance, plus faster updates!
Your support keeps this story alive I truly appreciate it!
Thank you, everyone! 🗿👍
~ Tenacious Hare 🥕❤️