Ginny watched as John Wick walked away, her red lips curling into a smile."So that's the infamous Night Devil? Looks like he turned down Mr. Ninja's offer!"
"And this legendary hitman... also got roughed up a bit."
As she spoke, her bright eyes glanced over at Leon Foster, clearly curious how he would respond.
Leon, however, simply chuckled."He's been retired from the assassin world for four years. Getting ambushed and taking a few hits—nothing strange about that. Right now, he just doesn't want to be involved with us."
"But even in retirement, his actions are already stirring up waves again. If he wants to stay completely detached from our world... I'm afraid that's no longer possible. This incident is going to drag him right back in."
"And besides, no one gets to turn down a favor from Leon Foster. Not even the Night Devil."
Meanwhile, John Wick had finished speaking with Winston and left the bar after getting the addresses of a few thugs from Adina.
As he exited, Ginny smiled. "He's gone. You planning to follow him?"
Leon shook his head slowly. "No need. He'll come back to the hotel. This story's just beginning—we'll have more chances."
After sharing a couple of drinks, Leon offered, "Let me walk you home. New York isn't exactly the safest place at night."
The two of them left the Continental Hotel. After escorting Ginny back to her place and watching her close the door, Leon turned and calmly made his way back.
Inside her apartment, Ginny leaned quietly against the door, waiting until she was sure Leon had gone before straightening up.
She'd known Leon Foster for quite some time now. It had been six months since she became his assistant.
Originally, she was a hitwoman for a textile mill syndicate, though not a registered member of the Continental. One mission gone wrong nearly cost her her life.
That same mission led her to leave the textile syndicate. When it ended, she collapsed right outside Leon Foster's front door. He saved her. From that point on, she gave up her old life.
And once she learned he was an assassin too, she decided to become his assistant—helping him gather intel and handle minor tasks.
In the past six months, she cut all ties with the textile mill, and they hadn't contacted her since. It seemed they'd silently accepted her departure.
But today… today she received news: The Cross betrayed them.
Now she didn't know whether she should trouble Leon Foster with this.
Meanwhile, Leon Foster returned to the Continental Hotel and waited quietly in his room—located at the end of the hall, right next to John Wick's.
Time ticked by slowly.
Then, the sound of a door opening. Leon knew John was back.
Not long after, the sounds of a fight came from the room next door.
Leon didn't move. He already knew what was happening.
Perkins—the female assassin who violated the hotel's rules—had just been ambushed by John, who threw a bedsheet over her head and pounded her face.
Leon didn't bother to call the front desk. He knew someone else would.
He couldn't help but feel mildly frustrated with the Continental's code.
No killing.
In principle, it made sense. But once someone breaks the rule, you're still forbidden from killing them in retaliation—otherwise, you're guilty of breaking the same rule and will be punished by the Continental.
That's why John had shown mercy.
Moments later, the sounds of fighting stopped. John had won.
Leon opened his door and saw Perkins crawling in the hallway. He shook his head silently.
John walked out of his room after ending a call. He grabbed Perkins from behind, pressed his handgun against her head, and got the answers he needed.
Then, with a swift blow of the pistol's handle, he knocked her out cold.
Just then, Harry—the Black assassin staying next door—heard the noise, loaded his pistol, and stepped into the hall.
The click of the slide caught John's attention. He paused, unsure if the man behind him was a friend—or someone seeking a bounty.
Without turning around, a voice came from behind."Do we know each other?"
John recognized the voice and replied, "We should."
He raised his hands to show he had no intention of attacking. Just as he began to turn around, he noticed another door open ahead—Leon Foster was standing there.
Seeing Leon again—twice in one day—John hesitated but eventually turned and greeted the man behind him."Hey, Harry."
Harry glanced at the three of them. His eyes briefly locked onto Leon Foster, pupils narrowing. Then he asked John,"Everything alright?"
"All good," John replied.
"Then take care of it yourself."
Harry started heading back into his room when John called out,"Hey, Harry."
"Want to earn a gold coin? Keep an eye on this sleeping beauty for me."
Harry answered without a hint of emotion,"Catch and release, huh?"
John smirked. "Exactly. Cat-and-mouse game."
Harry took the job, grabbed a pair of handcuffs from his room, secured Perkins' wrists behind her back, and dragged her into his place.
Standing in the hallway, Leon Foster held a bottle of Chivas and an empty glass. He smiled at John, who had just wrapped things up."John, want a sip? You took quite a beating."
He gestured to John's abdomen, where Perkins had punched him repeatedly. Blood was already seeping through the gauze, staining it red.
John stepped up, accepted the Chivas and glass, poured himself a drink, and downed it in one go.
"Not bad," he said, checking the label. Chivas 1987.
He handed the bottle and glass back to Leon.
Leon accepted them and asked,"John, you're looking rough. Need help with what comes next?"
"Leon Foster, I'm retired. This is personal. I can handle it."
John clearly didn't want to get dragged back into the underworld and once again turned down his friend's offer of assistance.
Leon shrugged."Alright, John. Just be careful. If the Night Devil falls here… it'd be a big loss for our world."
With that, Leon turned and returned to his room, closing the door behind him.
As for Harry—the one now guarding Perkins—whether he lived or died… Leon didn't care.
He was just another Black guy. What did his life matter to Leon?