John Wick - Chapter 55: Buying a Sniper Rifle, Marcus (Patreon)

“Ah!... Ah!...”

Nate sat there watching as John tossed Elena around like a plastic bag.

John wasn’t using his full strength when he threw her, and Elena herself had talents that improved her balance and heightened her sixth sense. Whenever she was about to hit the ground, she instinctively used some part of her body to cushion the impact, almost like a cat.

She was certainly getting thrown around a lot, but she was barely taking any damage. It looked more like they were playing around than seriously sparring.

It just wasn’t particularly graceful to watch.

That man really was gentle with women.

Damn it, the guy never stopped radiating that ridiculous charm, Nate thought.

As for Elena?

She was having the time of her life.

What girl hadn’t dreamed of dancing with her idol?

Granted, this particular “dance” was a little unconventional.

Still, John seemed more cheerful lately.

He was smiling now, and he was talking more too.

Was Nate imagining it?

“System, display Traits,” Nate thought.

John Wick.

[Baba Yaga (Exclusive Trait): While in combat, all attributes gradually increase as the fight continues, up to a maximum of 80%.]

[Intimidation (Max Level): ...]

[Weapon Master (Max Level): ...]

[Adaptation (Max Level): After taking damage, the next instance of the same type of damage is reduced by 50%. This effect can trigger up to twice against the same type of damage, increasing the reduction to 75%.]

[Grief* (Lv3 → Lv2): While experiencing unbearable grief, all attributes are reduced by 30%, and Trait effects are weakened by 30%.]

Oh?

So the debuff could weaken too?

Good. Very good.

At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before he got to see John at his peak.

Nate felt a surge of excitement.

Truthfully, he had always thought John looked somewhat weaker in the movies because of the actor’s physical limitations.

But John was a legend in this world.

He ought to possess strength worthy of that title.

The gym door opened, and Panam, the receptionist, stepped inside.

“Manager, someone is here to see you.”

Winston nodded and stood to leave.

As he turned, he noticed the look Nate was giving him. He paused.

“Nate, coming?”

“Absolutely.”

Nate slapped the dust off his pants and hurried over.

Henry watched him leave and called after him, “Where are you going?”

“Stopping by the Sommelier. I want to buy a sniper rifle.”

...

The New York Continental, first-floor lobby.

The man sitting on the sofa slowly raised his head and looked toward them.

His face was deeply weathered, with wrinkles around his eyes that looked as though they had been carved there with a knife.

He wore an old sand-colored jacket and held a glass of whiskey in one hand. Most of the ice had already melted.

Marcus.

Nate’s heart stirred.

Of course he recognized that face.

Marcus was the sniper from the first John Wick movie, the man who had helped John and was later killed by Viggo.

More importantly, he was John’s friend.

After Viggo killed him, John had sat silently beside his body for a long time.

After that, John had spoken less and less.

Eventually, even speaking seemed difficult for him.

Marcus’s death had hit John hard.

Winston walked over and sat in the armchair opposite Marcus. He crossed one leg over the other, looking completely at ease, as though he were welcoming an old friend.

“Marcus. It’s been a long time.”

Marcus raised his eyes toward Winston, lifted his glass, and took a sip of whiskey.

The ice clinked softly against the glass.

After a moment, he said, “Long time no see, Winston.”

His voice was low and hoarse, rough as sandpaper.

“It’s been more than two years,” Winston said with a smile. “I thought you’d retired.”

“In this line of work, there’s no such thing as truly retiring.”

Marcus paused.

“Viggo dragged me out of my house and hired me to kill John.”

“Oh.”

Winston immediately understood.

“So why are you here?”

Marcus answered simply.

“John.”

“To kill him?”

“To help him.”

“Help him kill Viggo?”

“Yes.”

Marcus then asked, “He’s staying with you. How is he?”

“He’s recovering,” Winston replied. “Much better than when he first arrived.”

“That’s good.”

Marcus took another drink, his gaze settling somewhere beyond the coffee table.

“I saw him at his wife’s funeral a little over two weeks ago.”

“The look in his eyes back then... empty, full of grief. He barely looked alive.”

He set the glass down.

The base made a soft click against the marble tabletop.

“I’m glad he’s getting better.”

A genuine smile appeared on Marcus’s face before his attention shifted to Nate.

“And that’s largely thanks to you, young man.”

He smiled.

“When you went to the Red Circle, I was watching the two of you from a building some distance away.”

“Thank you for looking after John.”

Nate extended his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Marcus. My name is Nate Lin.”

Marcus reached out and shook his hand, a friendly smile appearing on his face.

“Can I call you Nate?”

“Of course. Everyone does,” Nate replied.

Nate had already felt before this that Marcus was someone worthy of respect.

Anyone willing to turn down money for the sake of a friend deserved respect.

Of course, that didn’t include friends who borrowed money and never paid it back.

This timeline had already changed.

Marcus wouldn’t die.

John had another friend at his side now.

That was a good thing.

Nate stayed out of the conversation that followed.

Judging by the direction it was going, Winston apparently wanted to bring Marcus into the fold as well.

Gather every bit of strength available.

That was Winston’s style. He always preferred to play things safe.

After saying goodbye to the two older men, Nate took the elevator to the Sommelier.

He opened the door.

Behind the counter, a young woman in a black evening dress stood with her back to him, idly handling a pistol.

That silhouette looked strangely familiar.

“Good morning, Mr. Lin.”

She turned around.

Nate immediately recognized the voice.

Holy crap.

It was Lily.

“Lily? What are you doing here...?”

“I’m on duty this morning. Didn’t I tell you? Winston asked me to come help out here.”

“How is it?” Nate asked. “Getting used to the job?”

“Pretty well. I actually like guns.”

Lily smiled happily.

“Getting to handle this many guns every day is basically heaven.”

“Okay, catching up is over.”

Lily’s expression immediately turned professional.

She straightened her posture and clasped both hands neatly in front of her waist.

“So, what can I get for you, Mr. Lin?”