Inside the top-floor conference room, Viggo and his remaining lieutenants watched the disaster unfold on the surveillance monitors.
The man in the video was tearing through the club like a force of nature—killing all his men in the hall in seconds, as easily as "chopping melons and vegetables." Everyone's faces were ashen.
"Quick, get all your men to help!" Viggo roared, desperation replacing his earlier rage. "If anyone dares to break into my Russian gang, I want him to die here!"
Several people immediately called the gunmen they had brought. Abran finally looked up, his voice quavering. "Brother, who is this person?"
Viggo spat out the name: "Smith Doyle."
The room fell silent. Ario finally managed a shaky comment. "Does he want to become the next Night Demon? With the guards here, even John Wick would die here!"
Viggo nodded weakly, but then the video of the massacre on the second floor was uploaded. They watched in horror as Smith deflected bullets with a knife and killed multiple trained men without breaking stride.
Several people shuddered simultaneously. "Is this guy still human?"
Abran's face twisted in despair. "This guy must be Captain America again! When did the outside world change like this?"
Viggo's brief moment of regret returned, the memory of Winston's cold warning—do not provoke Smith Doyle—echoing in his mind. Shaking it off, he announced the escape plan.
"I have a helicopter on the top floor. Ivy, arrange for someone to start it immediately!" Viggo commanded. "We'll take our weapons and go to the rooftop!"
Legal Advisor Ivy quickly called the flight crew to prepare the chopper, and the remaining leaders rushed to the roof.
Below, Smith had already fought his way through the third floor. The corridor was littered with enemy corpses. The only change to Smith was that his clothes were slightly ragged.
He touched the spot where a bullet had managed to connect earlier. It still hurt a little. Even with his Combat Strength of $9$, small-caliber bullets, though non-lethal, still inflicted minor damage—a bruising pain, like an ordinary person wearing a high-grade bulletproof vest. Since his Combat Strength wasn't the mythical $10$, a sustained volley still stung.
Smith shook the blood off his machete, clipped the Combat Power Detector back on, and scanned the distribution of the remaining personnel.
With the perspective-like view provided by the detector, no hiding spot was safe. Smith Doyle's efficiency skyrocketed. Enemies were no match; he either sliced them with his knife or took them out with a single devastating kick.
If you were hit, you died. If you were touched, you died.
Facing these desperate, low-level thugs, Smith didn't even bother with his full skill set, making his way to the top floor with brutal speed.
Seeing the four- and five-point combat signatures moving rapidly overhead toward the rooftop, Smith knew he had to finish this now.
"BOOM!"
Smith kicked the door leading to the rooftop open, blasting it off its hinges.
The helicopter was already started, the blades beginning to spin. Seeing Smith burst onto the roof, Viggo screamed: "Quick! Take off! Pull up!"
Smith surveyed the panicked occupants in the rising helicopter. He smiled darkly. "That's great! The whole leadership of the Russian gang is here. I don't have to look for anyone else."
Ivy poked his head out of the cabin, shouting over the rotors. "Mr. Smith, is there any possibility of peace talks? We're willing to pay... a lot of money!"
Smith shook his head. "Stupid. Even if I kill your Russian gang, the money will still be mine."
Hearing Smith's declaration, Abran and Ario knew there was no hope. They picked up their assault rifles and opened fire.
"Da, da, da!"
Facing the assault rifle fire, Smith didn't flinch. He rushed forward, but instead of trying to pull the plane down, he reached into his system space and pulled out Poole.
"Poole, turn yourself into a rope and secure the landing gear."
"Yes, Master Smith!"
Poole instantly transformed into a metallic-looking rope, wrapping one end around the helicopter's skid-type landing gear.
Smith jumped, grabbed the rope, and swung directly into the cabin.
Flashes of muzzle fire erupted from inside the helicopter, followed by a few muffled gunshots. Then, silence.
After killing Viggo, Smith threw his body out of the helicopter, sending the corpse tumbling onto the rooftop.
Smith then dispatched the pilot. He jumped out of the cabin door, landing lightly on the roof.
Poole, having secured the crash, immediately reverted to his regular form and returned to Smith's side. "Master Smith, you were so cool just now. All the enemies were dealt with!"
The pilotless helicopter, now without stabilization, began to lose control. It spun wildly and plummeted.
"BOOM!"
The helicopter crashed and exploded violently at the club's entrance, engulfing the entrance in flames and debris.
The high-ranking officials and core gunmen of the Russian mafia were no more.
John Wick, having just driven up in his weapon-laden car, was frozen by the sight of the crashing, exploding helicopter. He cautiously got out, tactical backpack bulging with heavy armaments.
"What's going on here?" he murmured.
He walked to the door and saw the dead guards, then stepped into the hall, horrified by the carnage.
Meanwhile, Smith, standing on the rooftop, called Cross.
"The Russian gang's top leaders, including Viggo, Ivy, Abran, and Ario, have all been killed," Smith reported calmly. "The rest of the core gunmen are basically dead. Solo mission to wipe out the Russian gang complete."
Smith had done the math: John Wick killed nearly a hundred men; he had killed another hundred. The Russian gang was effectively eradicated.
Cross Carlos was silent for a second, stunned by the speed. He had faith in Smith's power, but he thought the mission would take days. Smith had speedrun the Russian gang.
"Congratulations, GOD," Cross said, his voice filled with newfound respect. "From now on, you will be the leader of the Assassin's League."
Smith nodded, already moving on. "The Russian gang has been eliminated. Arrange for personnel to immediately take over their assets and dig into their vaults."
"The site also needs to be cleaned."
"Understood. We'll make all the arrangements here," Cross confirmed.
After hanging up, Smith Doyle walked down the stairs, passing the layers of carnage, and met John Wick near the entrance.
Looking at the corpse of Viggo at Smith's feet, John Wick was astonished.
"Mr. Smith," John Wick said, surveying the utter devastation—the exploded helicopter, the piles of dead bodies, the man who had murdered his friend—"You killed all these enemies?"