Billionaire in Kingsman with a Marvel System

Following Sunday's guidance, John Wick drove the 1969 Mustang from the airport to New York City, revving the engine loudly enough to wake up half the city. When he reached North Brooklyn, he saw several people with guns shouting angrily at him, so he decided to tone it down.

As he approached Vigo Tarasov's nightclub, he reduced his speed to 30 miles per hour, turning into an alley a few dozen meters from the nightclub.

After parking, John Wick locked the car and anxiously looked around. He worried whether the nearly pristine Mustang would be stolen by Brooklyn's thugs after he completed his mission.

If anyone dares to steal my car, I'll kill them, John Wick thought to himself.

Before he could think too much about it, Sunday's voice came through his earpiece. "Mr. Wick, the 3D map of Tarasov's nightclub is now displayed on your glasses. I suggest you review it carefully before proceeding."

"Understood," John Wick replied.

He put on the glasses, and a 3D map quickly appeared before his eyes. As Sunday explained the layout, the map zoomed in and out.

"Mr. Wick, this route is currently the safest way to approach Vigo Tarasov. I will update you based on the information I receive as you proceed."

"Okay," John Wick confirmed, checking his equipment again. He grabbed his backpack, and following Sunday's instructions, retrieved the taser left by Charon in a nearby dumpster.

He put on a black mask and used the cover of night to climb up a six-story building using a drainpipe.

Once on the roof, he crouched and observed his surroundings for a moment.

"Mr. Wick, all cameras will enter a blind spot in five seconds. You have four seconds to reach the stairwell."

"5, 4, 3, 2, go," Sunday counted down.

As soon as Sunday finished speaking, John Wick darted towards the stairwell like a cheetah. Just as he was about to reach the door, Sunday's emotionless voice suddenly commanded, "Get down!"

John Wick rolled and pressed himself against the side of the stairwell. He waited for Sunday's next instruction, and after a few minutes, Sunday said, "You have four seconds of safe time."

John Wick crawled a few steps to the stairwell door, and after the four seconds, he was lying on the rooftop again. He waited a few more minutes until it was safe, then took out his lockpicking tools and opened the door. He quickly slipped inside, closing the door quietly behind him.

Leaning against the door, he took a few deep breaths, lamenting how much his stamina had declined since getting a girlfriend, especially since she was a 30-something former model. It seemed he'd need to plan his workout routine more carefully in the future.

Following Sunday's guidance and his instincts honed from over a decade of killing, John Wick moved down from the sixth floor to the third, knocking out or electrocuting five guards along the way. After electrocuting two people, the third one started foaming at the mouth and, after twitching for a few seconds, went straight to meet Satan.

"FK," John Wick cursed under his breath, glancing at the taser in his hand. He dragged the dead guard into an empty room, grumbling quietly to himself. He hadn't expected the taser to be so powerful—just a fraction of a second longer, and the guy was done for.

Since someone had already died, John Wick stopped worrying about whether the taser would kill someone. Whenever he could, he used the taser instead of his fists.

When he reached the final corridor, three guards armed with Uzis stood outside the office door. After a few seconds of thought, he realized there was no way to approach them quietly. He pulled out his handgun and fired three quick shots, taking down all three guards.

After fighting his way to the door of Vigo Tarasov's office on the third floor, John Wick stood outside, listening to Sunday's report on the situation inside.

When Sunday confirmed that Vigo was alone in the office, John Wick took a few deep breaths, dusted off his suit, straightened his tie, and adjusted his hair. Once he was presentable, he knocked on the door. "Knock, knock, knock."

"Come in," came the voice from inside.

John Wick opened the door and walked into the office, where a middle-aged man sat behind a desk on the opposite side of the room, looking at him with a puzzled expression. "Are you lost, my friend?"

"No, no, no, Mr. Vigo Tarasov. If I were you, I'd take your hand off that gun. I guarantee I'm faster on the draw than you are."

John Wick's calm eyes locked onto Vigo's, and he subtly twitched his right hand. For some inexplicable reason, Vigo felt compelled to heed John Wick's warning, believing this masked man could indeed kill him before he could grab his gun.

"Alright, buddy," Vigo Tarasov slowly withdrew his hand from the drawer and placed both hands on the desk.

"Do we have a problem?" Vigo asked.

"No," John Wick shook his head. "We didn't have a problem before, but after today, who knows."

Vigo relaxed slightly at John Wick's initial response, but the latter half of the sentence made him tense up again. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I took out at least eight of your men on my way here, with another eleven in unknown condition. If that bothers you, then I guess we do have a problem," John Wick said, narrowing his eyes.

Vigo Tarasov remained silent for a moment, carefully studying John Wick's well-fitted suit, black tie, white shirt, short stubble, and slicked-back hair. His piercing eyes shone with intensity.

"So, you're not here to settle a personal score. Otherwise, you wouldn't be wasting time talking to me," Vigo deduced as he stood and approached John Wick. "Buddy, considering you got this close without being noticed, if you work for me, I'll overlook your breaking into my office. What do you say?"

John Wick's eyes gleamed with a hint of mockery as he replied, "And if I don't work for you, what will you do? Kill my loved ones? Everyone I care about?"

A smirk spread across John Wick's face. "Sorry, but my policy is, if you touch one of mine, I'll kill ten of yours."

He continued with a sneer, "And if you think you can take out the people behind me, think again. You're Russian, so you've probably heard of the Boogeyman, right?"

Vigo Tarasov nodded slowly. He was familiar with the Boogeyman—a tale used in Russia to scare children.

"Congratulations, Mr. Tarasov. The people backing me can stomp the Boogeyman into the ground, and the Boogeyman would have to smile and ask if they want to stomp the other side of his face too. Do you know why?"

Vigo Tarasov shook his head again, puzzled.

"Because the Boogeyman, like you, is stupid and ignorant. It takes getting stomped into the ground to realize that to some people, gangsters are just trash."

With that, John Wick drew two custom-modified M1911s from under his arms. The gun in his left hand pointed at Vigo's head, while the one in his right hand pointed back at the office door. Without even looking, he fired.

"Bang," John Wick smiled at Vigo. "The first one."

"Bang," John Wick smiled again. "The second one."

"Bang," John Wick smiled a third time. "The third one."

"If I were you, I'd tell the four idiots hiding outside the door to drop their guns, or they won't live to see tomorrow," he suggested.

"Bang," John Wick fired another shot, this time laughing. "And now there's an idiot who thinks he can use a grenade. Mr. Tarasov, it seems you're not the only one who calls the shots at this nightclub."

"Would you like me to take care of these disobedient fools for you? I'm cheap. Only $100,000 for each grunt, $1 million for a boss. How about it?"

___________________

Read Ahead

[email protected]/Mutter