"Sir, the number of casualties has been calculated."
Cuaron handed the document to Winston in a cold sweat and said: "Excluding the adjudicator and the people he brought, a total of one hundred and ninety-six killers died and no one was injured."
"Where are our people?"
"Except for the seventy-four killers from all over the world, the rest are our people."
Cuarón said with an ugly face, New York's Continental Hotel suffered heavy losses, and the previous loss of manpower seriously shook Winston's foundation.
Moreover, since the adjudicator died at the Continental Hotel in New York, there is a high possibility that Winston will be dismissed from his position as manager by the high table in a rage.
When a new manager takes office, the whole of New York will be reshuffled, and there will be chaos for a long time.
"I see."
Winston rubbed his temples. It was terrible, but there was nothing he could do.
Thinking of his old friend, John Wick, whom he had high hopes for, Winston thought about making another phone call, not asking the other party to kill Russell, but just to help him stabilize his empire.
"Sir, the number of deaths..."
"explain!"
"Including the adjudicator and the people he brought, the number of people killed in the hotel is two hundred and thirty-seven, which is exactly the same as the number of killers who died in the slums before."
Speaking of this, a flash of fear flashed across Cuaron's face: "I don't know if this is a coincidence or an accident. If it was intentional... Sir, he was counting the number of people to kill."
"I see."
Winston smiled bitterly, having offended the wrong people, and he already regretted taking Stanfield's order.
But rules are rules, and Continental Hotel has no reason to reject an order. Besides, when accepting the order, who could have expected such a result.
"Sir, I would like to ask, is there any reply from the high table?" Caron asked tentatively.
"Are you curious?"
"Yes, after all, the adjudicator died in the hotel. I'm worried that you, sir, will be implicated."
"I conveyed Officer Russell's words as they were. Twelve managers were very dissatisfied with me, and then increased Officer Russell's reward amount again. The news will soon be sent to global killers, a head worth 500 million."
Winston shook his head repeatedly and said fearfully: "500 million US dollars can make everyone crazy, but do they really have the life to make this money?"
"gentlemen……"
"No, that's the only reaction from the high table. I'm very curious about what will happen next."
Winston closed his eyes and tasted the red wine, muttering to himself: "Is it that Officer Russell's bounty continued to rise until the High Table Conference collapsed, or was it that some lucky person got this sky-high bounty by luck and then died in an accident.
"
"Sir, this has nothing to do with us, does it?"
"Indeed, they can laugh if they like. I admit that I am a coward."
…
Tuesday!
Cuaron rushed into the office with the document and slapped the document in front of Winston. His black face turned into a chrysanthemum smile: "Sir, good news, the Continental Hotel in Los Angeles has been sealed and everyone inside is dead."
"Karon, watch your tone, this is not good news."
Winston frowned and looked at the deputy dissatisfied: "What do you mean they are all dead? Is my old friend the hotel manager Samson dead too?"
"Yes, a total of six hundred and twenty people died, including Manager Semerson." Caron said happily.
"Oh, Semerson, you died so tragically."
Winston showed a sad smile, opened the file and asked, "Why are there so many six hundred people? Are the room rates in hotels in Los Angeles so cheap?"
Cuarón explained: "No, Officer Russell stayed at the Los Angeles hotel for three hours, waiting and killing all the killers who came to the door. No one who entered the hotel was spared."
"Due to greed, money makes them forget how much they weigh."
Winston made a comment. After a moment, he frowned and pointed at a black and white photo: "What does this mean, provocation?"
The black and white photo shows the desk of Samson, the manager of the Continental Hotel in Los Angeles. There is a note on the desk that says "Mexico", which is a metaphor for the next concentration of death.
"Sir, I don't know the specific situation very well, but if you contact the Continental Hotel in Mexico City, there are thousands of killers gathered there, as well as local gangs and major families, led by a manager of the High Table Council, and the number of people is still small.
On the rise.”
Cuaron was so excited that he could not speak coherently: "This is an unprecedented big move in the underground world. I never thought that I would be able to see such a scene in my lifetime. It's so crazy!"
"Yeah, just because of one person...it's really crazy."
Wednesday!
Winston sat at his desk with a solemn expression, next to a stunned Cuaron. The documents on the desk told about the fiasco in Mexico City.
According to rough statistics, more than two thousand killers were killed. The local gangs and various mafia families that gathered fled frantically, abandoning the territory they had long operated.
And the organizer, one of the administrators of the High Table Council, was uprooted along with his crime family, leaving no one behind.
"If a manager dies, those guys will go crazy."
Winston muttered to himself, and it took him a while to come back to his senses: "Cuarón, what's going on at the Hotel Continental in Mexico City?"
"could not be reached."
"..."
"Did Officer Russell leave anything behind?"
"Yes, next stop is Brasilia!"
Thursday!
Another document was placed on the desk, and after a few battlefield-like photos, there was the dilapidated Brasilia Continental Hotel and the heavy casualties.
The bodies of the 1,500 dead people all had multiple holes in their foreheads. The injured were injured by falling themselves or being hit by the loss of their companions.
"..."x2
Winston and Cuarón remained silent. The latest death toll in Mexico City showed that more than 5,000 people had died in just three days.
These people are either killers or members of the gangs and crime families that make up the High Table.
After the ‘Battle of Brasilia’, the twelve managers of the High Table Conference lost two again, currently at 9/12.
[Name: Russell]
[Status: Global Open Contract]
[Amount: US$1 billion]
Winston didn't even glance at the reward. He was very convinced that it was just a number. There was no difference between 1 billion and 10 dollars. No one could earn this money anyway.
He touched the globe on his desk and connected New York, Los Angeles, Mexico City, and Brasilia to determine Russell's next destination.
Either Africa, Europe, Australia is also a possibility.
"Sir, why don't you call and ask about the high table?"
"What does it have to do with me? I'm just a hotel manager. I'm not qualified to participate in big events... This is already a war."
Winston was very calm and said slowly: "Compared with the helpless high-end table, I am more interested in Officer Russell's next destination. It doesn't matter how many people there are. If he captured a city in one day, I suspect that he is simply traveling."
"Sir, is he really human?" Cuarón asked in a low voice.
"I don't know, but Officer Russell said before that if he doesn't become a policeman, he can only become a devil."
When Winston said this, he stood up and dug out the Bible in the bookcase: "To be honest, I suddenly became religious."
…
Friday!
black!
The Dalbeda Continental Hotel fell, and all three thousand gang members and assassins gathered there died, including two High Table Conference managers.
The remaining number of senior executives is 7/12!
On the same day, the Elder of the High Table, who had higher authority than the twelve managers and lived in the desert of North Africa, was killed, and the scene was in chaos.
The power of the High Table in North Africa collapsed across the board, and gang members rushed to flee. They would rather surrender to the police station than follow orders and participate in the so-called counterattack plan.
This is not a counterattack, this is waiting in line to die!
The avalanche of radiation extends from North Africa to the world, such as in Cairo, Egypt. The manager of a mainland hotel ignored the order from the high table and closed the business for the day. The killers avoided coming out and disappeared one by one.
[Name: Russell]
[Status: Closed]
[Amount: 0]
Under pressure, the Gaotai Desk voluntarily gave up the global bounty. The remaining seven managers were all in danger and hid in the safe house and did not dare to show their faces.
The easiest one is the manager of the Canadian province. Russell's route of action is unabashed. According to the sequence, he is the last stop. His turn comes after the death of the manager of the Neon Sopranos.
"Sir, I have contacted Officer Russell, but he doesn't answer the phone, and there is nothing I can do." Winston continued to explain while holding the phone.
Just today, seven high-level desk managers communicated with him continuously, almost exploding his phone number.
Because Winston was the only hotel manager who survived an encounter with Russell, and Russell was a local police officer in New York, and communicated through Winston, the managers felt that he could get in touch with Russell and stop the crazy killings.
.
High Table is willing to apologize for previous actions, and as long as Russell is willing to stop, they will accept any request.
To put it bluntly, they were afraid of being killed and were willing to surrender unconditionally.
Winston was honored, and managers with higher authority chased him to beg his grandfather to sue his grandmother, which made him feel secretly happy.
But Russell didn't answer the phone, so there was nothing he could do. Moreover, he had already given out his phone number, so not only him but other managers could not be contacted.
This can only show that Russell is unwilling to stop and this matter is not over!
…
Saturday!
The door of the closed Cairo Continental Hotel was broken down and the building was empty. No one died, and only the general manager's office was smashed.
…
Sunday!
Rome, the Dantonio crime family.
Gianna D'Antonio and Michael D'Antonio, two direct members of the family, were hiding in an ancient castle. This was their family's property. They were robbed fifty years ago... no, it was through legal procedures.
Bought.
Sister Gianna inherited her father's will and is the leader of the family and one of the seven remaining high table managers.
She is very panic now. She is only in her early forties, a woman's prime age, and she doesn't want to turn into a cold corpse.
"My dear sister, given the current situation, we should separate. In this case, no matter which one of us dies, there will still be someone who can inherit the family's business and carry it forward."
My younger brother, Michael, was very angry and felt that his sister wanted to drag him to death, because what happened at the Cairo Continental Hotel explained everything.
Russell is a lazy man and doesn't know how to kill people one by one, so if there are more people, more people will die, and if there are fewer people, it won't matter.
"No, I'm protecting you."
As Jaina was talking, an attendant hurriedly walked in outside the door and whispered a few words in her ear.
"Very good!"
Gianna stood up happily after hearing this, swayed out quickly, and said to Michael without looking back: "I invited the Bishop of St. Louis, he will help us get through the difficulties and destroy the devil!"
"Bishop! Are you serious?"
Michael was speechless. The clergy were useless. If there really was a god, he would have gone to hell.