"I'm saying, are you sure you can still handle a gun?"
"Please. That's nothing for me, alright? Don't forget, we did missions together nineteen years ago."
"Oh, right. You didn't fire a single shot and got captured immediately. How could I forget?"
"Damn it. Can't you talk about something else?"
In a coffee shop next to Viggo's bar, Fury glared at Noah, who looked completely relaxed.
This guy's mouth was infuriating.
The worst part was that everything Noah said was true. And because it was true, it irritated Fury even more.
Thinking back, all Fury could really do was marvel at how advanced alien technology was—and accept that magic actually existed. Beyond that, it felt like there was nothing left for him to do.
Even though he had learned many secrets he'd never known before through that humiliating experience, it didn't make him feel any better.
"What do you want me to say?" Noah tilted his head. "That your skills are still sharp? Come on. I honestly don't think you can be a frontline agent anymore."
"I won't bother with you," Fury said, rolling his eyes. "What about Rogers? Has he arrived?"
"He's on his way," Noah replied, spreading his hands.
Steve Rogers was indeed on his way.
The headphones he had found were deliberately left behind by Noah. The recording inside was also Noah's. Noah hadn't said much—just introduced himself, mentioned he was experiencing life, and explained that he'd run into Fury by accident.
Fury, in turn, had told him that SHIELD was being hunted from within, and that Hydra had already infiltrated it.
That part had stunned Rogers. He hadn't expected SHIELD to be in that state.
Once he recovered, he heard Noah casually mention Fury's current location.
After removing the headphones, Rogers didn't doubt their authenticity. After thinking it through, he decided it was better to see things for himself.
So he set off immediately.
What Rogers didn't know was that Noah had modified the headphones. Because of that, Noah could clearly track Rogers' position.
And he was already very close.
As for the Hydra people—especially Bucky—Noah couldn't figure him out for the moment. He hadn't thought to use magic to track him at the time. By the time the idea occurred to him, the man had already turned and fled.
Noah had no way to stop him.
It wasn't that Noah lacked methods. He simply didn't plan to use them right now.
He was out to experience life.
To put it bluntly, he was here to have fun.
Unless it was necessary, he couldn't be bothered to use magic. Nothing was going to happen anyway.
"Alright, that makes things easy," Fury nodded. "So, shall we go in now?"
"Of course," Noah stood up and headed straight out. "Some people need to die. Consider it cleaning up a bit of trash for New York."
"Remember to pay the bill," he added. "You know I rarely carry cash."
"You don't carry money at all," Fury muttered, leaving ten dollars on the table before following him out.
As they approached the bar, it was clear that even in this godforsaken city, people still loved to party.
Especially young people.
A long line had already formed outside the bar.
Noah and Fury didn't even look at it.
They weren't the kind of people who waited in line.
Constantine had already gone inside with Jason and Wick. Presumably, they had finished their preliminary work.
Sure enough, when Noah and Fury reached the back door, Jason was already waiting there.
"What's the situation?" Noah asked, walking over with his hands in his pockets.
"Viggo's inside," Jason replied flatly. "Security is solid. Heavy firepower. A lot of people."
"Is that so?" Noah nodded.
Viggo really was cunning.
Wick was an assassin, but he wasn't the type who slaughtered innocents. With so many customers in the bar, they were effectively free hostages—and bullet shields.
Viggo and his people wouldn't care about their lives.
They could fire without restraint.
Entering through the back door, they followed Jason into a room where several bodies lay scattered across the floor.
They were well-dressed.
Now, they were all dead.
Each one had a clean hole in the center of the forehead.
Noah didn't care.
Who knew what kind of things these people had done? He didn't think they deserved sympathy.
He glanced at Jason and Wick, both fully armed, then at Constantine, who was casually drinking with his coat open.
They looked far too comfortable.
"I say," Noah couldn't help commenting, "you're not treating this place like your living room, are you?"
"Seems the alcohol here isn't bad," Constantine said, taking another sip. "So, what's the plan? Or do you have some boring plan again?"
"Plan?" Noah rubbed his chin. "Does this group really deserve one?"
He continued calmly, "Steve's already here. He's waiting in line outside. How about this—Fury and I go meet him. Jason and Wick go deal with Viggo."
He paused, then added, "You go with them too."
"You're not waiting for him to come in?" Constantine lifted the bottle. "I want another drink. Vodka. Old stuff. Want some?"
Noah rolled his eyes and ignored him entirely, turning and leaving with Fury.
He wasn't against drinking.
But drinking here?
In a place filled with corpses?
No thanks.
They wandered through the bar and found an empty booth, sitting down casually.
Soon, Noah frowned.
He felt it.
They were being followed.
Or rather, both of them were.
"Viggo's men?" Noah thought briefly. "Or Bucky?"
He dismissed it almost immediately.
It didn't matter.
Neither side posed any threat.
If an eighth-tier mage lost in a place like this, he might as well kill himself.
Noah closed his eyes silently.
He quickly locked onto Steve Rogers' position.
Steve had already made it inside.
How he did it was anyone's guess.
Since he was in, Noah needed to guide him.
Otherwise, Steve would probably never find them.
Jason and Wick moved deeper into the bar without a word.
Constantine followed behind, bottle in one hand, cigarette in the other.
He didn't take this so-called operation seriously at all.
To him, this was a vacation.
So he moved sloppily.
Even so, Viggo's assassins couldn't touch him.
When the three reached what looked like a conference room, their lack of stealth was immediately exposed.
Wick reached for his gun.
Someone was faster.
Jason lunged forward, grabbed a guard's arm, and twisted hard. The weapon fell to the floor with a clatter.
Jason's current abilities were probably not inferior to Captain America's. The only difference might have been raw physical attributes.
After snapping the guard's arm, Jason drew his pistol and yanked the man in front of him, using him as a shield.
Bang. Bang.
Two shots rang out.
Two guards rushing from ahead collapsed instantly.
Jason hadn't even looked at them.
They had run straight into the bullets.
Wick froze again.
He knew Jason was an assassin like him, but he hadn't expected this level.
In that case, did he even need to do anything?
Jason didn't care what Wick was thinking.
He scanned the area, then calmly shot the guard he had been using as a shield.
He continued forward without hesitation.
Along the way, Wick finally understood just how professional—and ruthless—Jason was.
Unlike Noah, that bullet-wasting lunatic, Jason never wasted a single shot.
His accuracy was terrifying.
He always knew when someone would appear.
He always knew what to do.
Cold. Mechanical. Perfect.
Whether shooting or fighting up close, there were no flaws.
Wick felt uneasy.
Someone like this was genuinely frightening.
If they ever went back on their word, would he even survive?
By the time these thoughts settled, Jason had already cleared most of the guards.
With Constantine casually leading the way, the three arrived outside Viggo's office.
Wick never imagined it would be this easy.
"Go on," Constantine said, leaning against the wall and looking at the closed door. "Five people inside."
"It's your turn."
"Be careful."
"I understand," Wick took a deep breath and nodded. "Thank you."
"No need," Constantine replied lazily. "Your business has nothing to do with me."
"If it weren't for some bored guy wanting to do boring things—and dragging me along—I wouldn't care about you at all."
"…"
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