John, lying on the floor, looked at all the bandages now covering his body, and his main wound, which had been stitched, was now bleeding again.
"I'm sorry, it was pure instinct. I'll need you to stitch my wound again." John, a bit dazed, apologized.
"That will raise the price by one coin." Elion, who was checking his eye that would surely bruise, raised the price of this help.
"Don't worry, I'll give you each and every gold coin I have." John never lied, and he wouldn't now.
Only when Elion saw that John had regained consciousness did he approach to help him get back onto the metal bed.
"Sorry if I offend you, but living in this kind of world, can you have a partner?"
John's eyes darkened when he heard Elion's question, and he only said: "I had one, but she's no longer in this world."
Having learned the important information, Elion continued working, disinfecting the wound while asking: "Forgive my boldness once again, but is it because of old enemies? Being a legend, you must also have enemies who hold grudges."
John shook his head, and his eyes filled with memories. "No, it was cancer."
Elion skillfully cut the broken thread and pulled it out from under the skin: "That's a shame, cancer is horrible."
"It sounds like you've lived through it."
"I have, and now it's back. I abandoned the medication, and the truth is I don't know how much time I have left. But I plan to leave something to my loved ones when I'm gone so they'll remember me." Elion murmured these words and then asked: "You must miss her a lot, right? Did she leave you something?"
Upon hearing this, whether from physical or psychological pain, John's eyes twitched slightly. "Helen chose a beagle named Daisy for me. She hoped that with her company, I wouldn't feel alone."
Elion knew this; he remembered that he left his parents his rabbits' offspring. There were twelve, and they would continue reproducing. He hoped his parents would be filled with rabbits; that would be funny and healthy for them to overcome his death.
He hoped that John was now about to begin his final steps of revenge against Viggo's organization and that of his brother.
If that was the case, then what was about to come still needed time to happen.
John was only in this state because he was injured during his revenge against Viggo. Therefore, Elion naturally would not be implicated in John's future actions.
"Rabbits might be a good idea, actually, a pair of them." Elion smiled, focused once again on stitching the wound, and finally covered it with clean medical gauze.
"Rabbits…"
"They're more complex than dogs, but they're cute once you earn their trust."
John didn't deny it; he got up from the operating table and put on his black suit. "I don't need something like that."
After saying that, John took out a handful of gold coins and placed them on the blood-stained surgical tray.
"You deserve this. I hope we never have to see each other again."
Elion smiled enigmatically and extended his hand to take the gold coins: "Of course, if possible, I don't want to receive another punch. Although I think it's a good autograph, don't you think?"
"I do."
As he watched John's figure walk away, Elion looked at the gold coins in his hand, which totaled fifteen.
This should be a lot of money, beyond its value as gold.
As for John's life, Elion truly hoped not to get involved. Being an assassin has always been a life-or-death struggle.
It was fine for Elion to work as a doctor on the night shift at the nearest Continental, but it wasn't a good idea to be connected to John.
Elion shook his head, temporarily suppressing his idea of working as a doctor on the night shift at a hotel..
…
In a short time, Elion found information about black market traffickers in the confused memories of his mind.
Many of the prohibited medications he had used were bought from that person. With enough money, weapons from Russia could be obtained, and even some specific drugs.
Soon, ten gold coins were exchanged for specific medications and some painkillers.
Of course, Elion also bought a Glock-17 from the black market, which was simple in structure, easy to maintain, and stable in performance.
In a dangerous world—much more so than what was coming—having a weapon was always a good thing.
After rejecting the advances of scantily dressed women who roamed the streets at midnight, Elion returned to his apartment.
Upon entering, Elion poured half a bottle of painkillers into his mouth.
Under these circumstances, he was finally able to sleep well, something he hadn't experienced in many years.
But at that moment, he heard footsteps behind him.