Grand Debut
Jack sat at his sleek, mahogany desk, exuding an air of calmness as he delicately scrolled through the contacts on his state-of-the-art mobile phone. With each swipe, he selected names one by one, meticulously jotting them down on a crisp, ivory sheet of paper.
Edward, observing Jack's unflappable expression, couldn't help but be influenced by his composure. He leaned in, his curiosity piqued as he noticed some familiar names on the list. "Is that a compilation of people? A list, perhaps?"
Jack maintained his composed demeanor, nodding casually as he lifted the paper filled with names. "Indeed, my friend. These are the esteemed company presidents who had the audacity to place a reward on your head."
Edward raised an intrigued eyebrow. "But how did you manage to obtain such classified information? Isn't it usually kept under tight wraps, particularly for those involved with the Continental Hotel?"
Jack's lips curled into a subtle smile. "Ah, well, you see, my dear Edward, we have our sources within the Continental Hotel. Those connections allowed us to acquire this valuable intel."
Edward's eyes widened in awe as he comprehended the significance of the revelation. "Ah, of course! With the might of the Continental Hotel and its alliances, it's no wonder such information can be obtained."
Jack's hand gracefully picked up the paper, the names dancing across the surface as he held it aloft. "Yes, indeed. The intelligence organization known as Hawk eye, operating within the esteemed walls of the high table, is adept at uncovering even the most well-concealed secrets."
Edward leaned closer, his curiosity palpable. "And I assume, given the magnitude of this rare reward, thorough investigation was necessary to determine its true value."
Jack's eyes sparkled with intrigue, mirroring his excitement. "Precisely! One cannot assign a price without meticulous scrutiny. Rest assured, Winston swiftly procured all the pertinent details from the Hawk eye organization."
Jack paused for a moment, contemplating his next move. However, before he could articulate his thoughts, a flicker of movement caught his attention from the corner of his eye.
Tilting his head slightly, Jack's gaze fixated on a distant, towering building. In that instant, a small ball of flames erupted from its rooftop, followed by the zipping trajectory of a bullet hurtling toward Edward at breakneck speed.
Time seemed to slow down for Jack, as if the world around him fell into a sluggish stupor. He observed the bullet's trajectory with keen interest, calculating its every nuance with a mathematical precision that bordered on amusement.
In the end, the bullet exerted its utmost effort, leaving naught but a minute, white indentation on the bulletproof glass.
Edward, astounded by Jack's seemingly unbothered reaction, approached the window to investigate. The shattering sound of the impact reached his ears, drawing his attention to the small, telltale blemish on the glass surface. Suddenly, realization dawned upon him.
"Ah! I see now," Edward exclaimed, his voice tinged with newfound understanding.
"The defensive measures I have arranged for you can hold you off for a while, but they won't keep you at bay forever. They're just a temporary solution, so don't put too much faith in them," Jack said, narrowing his eyes as he spotted the killer, who was hundreds of meters away.
He swiftly switched guns, loading a bullet that was noticeably different.
"It would have been different if they have used the armour piercing bullet from the start."
Jack's voice traile off as he suddenly appeared in the line of sight between the killer and Edward. In an instant, he dashed across the room and materialized on the other side, accompanied by the shattering of glass and the clash of steel.
For Jack, it was a casual act as he strolled alongside the path of the bullet, effortlessly swatting it down mid-air with the diamensional wrench.
It was an understated move, but for Edward and the killer, it was an earth-shattering shock! They couldn't fathom how anyone could perform such a feat.
No one could replicate Jack's actions.
With a wry smile, Jack picked up the deformed bullet that he had deflected to the ground and sauntered over to the floor-to-ceiling window. Through the hole he had created in the shattered glass, he locked eyes with the astounded killer, who couldn't hide his bewilderment.
"Barrett M82A1, a specialized armor-piercing projectile designed to take down tanks and planes, repurposed for targeting humans. I must say, I have high regard for you. That reinforced tempered glass was nothing more than flimsy paper against this weapon. It didn't stand a chance," Jack remarked, holding up the bullet in his hand.
The killer's face contorted with fear, and he hastily started packing his belongings, preparing to make a swift exit.
"I don't want anything to do with this job. Eight million dollars or not, it's up for grabs by whoever wants it. It's got nothing to do with me!" the killer's mind raced with bewildered thoughts.
What in the world just happened?
Who the fuck is that guy?
How did he suddenly teleport from one location to another?
In what manner did he manage to shoot down his own bullet?
Is he truly human?
The killer was left questioning his own reality, his doubts growing with each passing moment. He found himself in a state of utter confusion, his mind clouded with uncertainty.
However, amidst the chaos, one thing remained crystal clear to him—there was only one course of action left: to flee immediately. It had been his mantra throughout his years as a killer, the key to his survival on countless occasions.
But this time, when he tried to run, his legs betrayed him. It was as if an invisible force held him in place, rendering him immobile. Panic washed over him, amplifying the pounding of his heart as he desperately sought an escape route.
Suddenly, a bullet whizzed through the air, cutting through the tension and finding its mark with chilling accuracy—the killer's forehead. The world turned blurry, and as his vision faded, he heard a voice, muffled and distant.
"I'm terribly sorry, my friend, but you happen to be on the wrong side," Jack casually remarked. He then turned towards Carlos in the distance, who nodded in agreement.
Carlos approached the fallen killer, each step deliberate and purposeful. In his hand, he held a collection of small crosses, an unusual item for such a circumstance. With great care, he placed one of the crosses between the killer's lifeless brows, covering the fatal hole.
Jack had conceived this idea—an initial act that was both commemorative and forceful. But as Carlos fumbled with the pile of crosses in his pocket, a slight twitch betrayed his unease. Clearly, the price of such theatrics was not lost on him.
As Jack confirmed that Edward's rivals had indeed placed a generous reward on Edward's head, he promptly reached out to Carlos and the rest of the group.
Although it came as a sudden surprise, they all ultimately do the same thing—kill. The only difference lies in their motivations: one kills for the sake of killing, while the other kills for the sake of saving others.
From a certain perspective, Jack could also be seen as guiding these former assassins back onto the path of "kill one, save a thousand."
"Hmm... is that the Assassin and Templar's Creed ringing a bell?" Jack quipped, raising an eyebrow mischievously.
Edward, still recovering from his initial surprise, nodded slowly. "Okay, I believe I've seen enough to understand that staying here would essentially make me a living target. While I'm sure you can protect me temporarily, it's not a permanent solution."
Jack looked at Edward, a glimmer of determination in his eyes. "That's why I'll take you to the Continental Hotel."
Edward's expression became puzzled. "Wait, isn't the Continental Hotel the headquarters of the assassins?"
Jack smirked confidently. "Exactly! No killer would dare to make a move at the Continental Hotel. It's the safest place for you, and it will allow us to focus on our next task—eliminating those masterminds and bounty hunters one by one, restoring order." He turned towards the door. "We'll be there in just a half-hour drive. Ready for the most thrilling short trip of your life?"
Edward nodded, mustering up some excitement. "Of course, otherwise, what else can we do?"
With a wink, Jack assured Edward, "Don't worry, Mr. Edward. Believe in the power of the Knights Templar."
As Jack observed his surroundings, he moved with purpose. "Consider this our grand debut as the Knights Templar. I guarantee you, there's no need to worry."
....
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