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This wasn't Henry's first visit to the New York Continental.
The very first time had been nearly ten years ago, back when he was still working as Audrey Hepburn's assistant. In a moment of youthful overconfidence, he'd tried to leverage the legendary actress's name to test the Continental's system.
He'd been politely turned away with a simple explanation:
"It's a members-only hotel."
Even Audrey Hepburn's name hadn't been enough—and she was already considered a faded star by then. Henry hadn't pressed the matter.
His second visit had been because of another Miss Hepburn. John Wick had personally delivered him an invitation, allowing Henry to step inside the Continental's distinctive triangular building once again.
That visit hadn't produced any real results either, but at least it hadn't ended on bad terms. Judging from what he'd later learned through surveillance, neither side had developed any hostility. They had simply reached an unspoken agreement to maintain a respectful distance.
This was his third visit.
And this time, Henry immediately noticed that the atmosphere inside the Continental was gloomy and oppressive.
The restrained confidence he'd witnessed during his previous visits—the kind that silently warned troublemakers to think twice before causing problems—had all but vanished.
Standing behind the front desk was still the same impeccably polite concierge, Charon, the trusted right-hand man of hotel manager Winston Scott.
The moment Charon spotted Henry's trademark beard, he smiled politely.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Brown. I'm afraid you've chosen a rather unfortunate time to visit. We may not be able to offer many of our usual services. Is there anything I can help you with?"
Although the words themselves weren't a refusal, the underlying message was obvious enough.
Now isn't a good time.
Henry got straight to the point.
"John Wick mentioned a while back that something unpleasant had happened. Is it really that serious? It still hasn't been resolved?"
Charon smiled bitterly.
"Our contracted personnel have been disappearing at an alarming rate.
"And these aren't disappearances caused by particularly dangerous targets.
"They're simply... vanishing.
"No explanation.
"No trace."
He continued,
"There are rumors about horrifying man-eating monsters roaming the city.
"They're said to be impervious to bullets and blades.
"But we've found no physical evidence to prove such creatures actually exist.
"There are also reports claiming that those who've disappeared have become part of these monsters themselves.
"The witnesses all sound completely convinced...
"But none of them can produce any proof."
He paused before adding,
"There's another development as well.
"We don't know whether it's connected, but we've begun taking it very seriously.
"The underground world beneath New York...
"Has been emptied.
"At least, every major settlement we're know of has been abandoned."
That final piece of information caused Henry's expression to darken instantly.
"Were there any bodies?"
"No."
Charon shook his head.
"Our investigators reported finding clear signs that people had lived there.
"But it was as though everyone simply vanished into thin air.
"Not even a single finger was left behind."
Exactly how many people lived beneath New York?
No one knew.
Estimates ranged from tens of thousands to over a million.
Back when Henry had ventured into the sewers searching for Skye, he'd conducted only a brief survey.
Even so, he had personally confirmed that at least tens of thousands of people were living in that underground world.
And that had likely represented only a tiny fraction of its true extent.
A disappearance on that scale couldn't possibly be cleaned up afterward—not by any organization.
The most likely explanation was that the missing people had left of their own accord.
Except...
"Of their own accord" didn't necessarily mean willingly.
It could simply mean...
They were still capable of walking.
Combining that with the rumors of "man-eating monsters," only one possibility came to Henry's mind.
Is this... the beginning of the Marvel Zombies universe?
Should I start packing my bags and move ahead with the Mars colonization plan?
But then again...
The monsters were apparently hiding their movements so thoroughly that no one could find any trace of them.
That didn't fit the traditional image of American movie zombies.
Although certain specialized zombie variants retained fragments of intelligence, the overwhelming majority acted purely on instinct.
They didn't conceal themselves deliberately.
At most, they'd remain motionless until fresh meat wandered nearby before springing back into action.
Creatures capable of hiding their tracks...
Were intelligent.
Perhaps not highly intelligent.
But intelligent enough to move in groups.
Perhaps even under the command of a leader.
An Alpha.
While Henry was deep in thought, a familiar set of footsteps reached his ears.
Turning around, he saw John Wick.
The assassin looked exhausted.
Disappointed.
Several others followed behind him, all wearing similarly grim expressions.
The two groups maintained a respectful distance from one another.
Noticing Henry's gaze, John merely gave him a slight nod without saying anything.
Watching them head toward the hotel's restaurant and bar area, Henry turned back to Charon.
"May I sit in and hear what's going on?"
"Of course, Mr. Brown."
Charon remained as courteous as ever.
"This matter has already become public knowledge within our circles.
"If you happen to possess any valuable information, there is even a reward available."
The concierge carefully avoided making it sound like an order or a forced recruitment.
Yet hearing that only made Henry's face grow even darker.
Because it meant the Continental was willing to pay people for information, even at a financial loss, simply to resolve this crisis.
That alone demonstrated how serious the situation had become.
Henry asked another question.
"I know this may sound strange...
"But has no one called the police?"
"As far as we're aware, New York City Hall already knows what's happening."
Charon answered calmly.
"The new mayor has chosen to suppress the information.
"I believe the police are following the mayor's lead."
Rudy Giuliani, whose performance during the World Trade Center attacks had earned widespread praise, was now the former mayor.
Having withdrawn from his congressional campaign due to prostate cancer, he had left office.
The current mayor was fellow Republican Michael Bloomberg, who had only been sworn in on January 1.
For a mayor who had been in office for less than a year, discovering something like this unfolding under his administration...
Concealing it from the public was exactly what any competent politician would do.
Especially while the crisis remained ongoing.
There was no reason to create widespread panic unless the situation became impossible to hide.
Besides...
Making it public would simply hand his political opponents and the media a weapon to attack him with.
He hadn't even had the chance to produce any accomplishments before inheriting an enormous catastrophe.
One he hadn't even caused.
It had simply crawled out from some unknown corner of the city.
Henry imagined the newly elected mayor was probably cursing nonstop behind closed doors.
No wonder Gwen Stacy had mentioned that her father had been working himself to exhaustion lately.
He rarely made it home before midnight.
And he was back out the door before sunrise.
As Police Commissioner, George Stacy had it even harder than the average patrol officer.
Having learned the general situation, Henry pointed toward the restaurant.
"Then I'll head inside."
"Please do."
Although one more person might not make much difference, Charon was genuinely pleased to welcome another potential ally.
Recently, the Continental's losses had become far too severe.
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