Marvel Saiyans - Chapter 45

At the Continental Hotel, the hitmen had their channels and soon learned about what had happened the previous night. They had an apparent understanding of their capabilities. Targets like Dave Boyle required the close cooperation of at least six hitmen to have a chance at success.

It seemed this newcomer was the next target.

Years ago, the Continental Hotel had clashed with Kingpin, with seven hitmen dying at the hands of the target.

Winston sat in a lounge chair in the lobby. His power was not something ordinary hitmen could match. After Broly walked out of the Irish community, he was already informed about the situation and even acquired the card Broly used to kill.

He was playing with the crudely made card, suddenly flinging it. The card spun and flew out more than ten meters before falling powerlessly to the ground.

“Charon, what kind of monster could use these ordinary cards to kill fifty-four full gunmen?”

Last night, seventy-six people died at Dave Boyle’s mansion, including sixteen servants. Twenty-one died from their necks being crushed, fifty-four from their trachea and arteries being cut by cards. The remaining victim was Dave Boyle, whose head had been twisted off.

“How terrifying… Charon… do you know what the number fifty-four signifies?”

Winston looked at the card, obviously cut from a seven of spades playing card, and murmured,

“A deck has exactly fifty-four cards. This person simply bought a deck, cut them into dove patterns, and didn’t waste a single card, yet he knew there were seventy enemies. If you were going into a fight against over thirty enemies, would you bring only seven bullets? A normal person wouldn’t unless they had no choice. It shows that these cards were just a minor trick for him.”

Charon picked up the card and sifted through it. The card creator did a hasty job; the dove was oddly shaped, the wings were asymmetrical, and part of the head was missing. It was hard to imagine someone being able to kill enemies over sixty meters away with such crude tools.

“What does the dove symbolize?”

Winston took a sip of water and pondered for a moment.

“Perhaps it’s some kind of totem, though few schools or organizations use doves as a totem or symbol. The earliest dove totems appeared in Mesopotamia, and he likely belongs to an Assassin lineage. This might be our breakthrough in figuring out his identity.”

Charon nodded. Winston had been in this line of work for over fifty years, managing the Continental Hotel for forty of those, and his accumulated experience and knowledge were a precious asset.

Just then, the front doors of the Continental Hotel were pushed open, and a figure walked in. The entire lobby suddenly quieted down, everyone discreetly observing the newcomer.

Broly, carrying a sack, was unaffected by the glances. Soon, the lobby became noisy again, but everyone seemed distracted, their gazes drifting to the sack in his hands.

“Welcome to the Continental Hotel, Mr. Wayne.”

Charon discreetly put away the card, walking behind the counter, while Winston silently left the lobby.

Broly threw the sack onto the front desk, and Dave Boyle’s head rolled out, his face still showing his horror and disbelief.

“Dave Boyle is dead. How do I get the money that’s mine?”

The lobby erupted into noise again; Dave Boyle was dead.

Charon twitched, took out a pair of gloves from under the counter, and put them on, carefully putting the head back into the sack, then took out a cleaner and meticulously cleaned and wiped down the counter.

“Mr. Wayne, Mr. Fisk had already transferred the full amount to our account. You can withdraw the money here anytime. Also, we have ways to confirm if the hunt was successful, and… there’s no need for such brutal methods to prove it.”

Broly tapped the table in dissatisfaction.

“You should have mentioned that earlier. The head has only been off for three hours, and it’s already starting to smell, leaving me at a loss as to how to explain this to the staff.”

A bead of cold sweat ran down Charon’s forehead. Broly’s displeasure put him under immense pressure, but he had never mentioned needing the target’s head as proof of a successful hunt.

“Fine, I’ll gift you this head. It can be cleaned up and hung on the wall as decoration,” Broly said. “Also, I’m ready to collect my bounty now.”

With the money, Broly planned to buy a few farms in Rashitas town, which was struggling financially, consolidating all the land into one piece. He also intended to invest in a herd of cattle for grazing on the farm’s pastures.

Given the appetites of Broly and Kakarot, they nearly consumed two adult cattle daily. Without buying more, the farm’s cattle supply would quickly deplete.

Charon wiped off another bead of sweat. Although they served hitmen, they were not deranged enough to use human heads as decor.

“Such decorations would need Mr. Winston’s approval to be hung on the hotel’s walls, and I believe he’s unlikely to agree. As for your bounty, I can pay you right now, Mr. Wade,” Charon said.

He picked up the landline and made a call. Soon, a waiter came over carrying a large leather suitcase, handing it to Broly.

“You can count on it, Mr. Wayne. If you need money laundering services, the Continental Hotel charges only two gold coins and a 10% commission to turn all your bounty into legitimate income. Additionally, the hotel offers a gold coin exchange service: ten thousand dollars for one gold coin. You can use gold coins to access any service at the Continental Hotel, including safe accommodation, weapons, armor, medical care, and target information. Everything can be exchanged with gold coins.”

Most money laundering services charge around 30% commission, making the hotel’s rate competitive. However, letting the Continental Hotel launder his money would mean handing over all his identity information to them, so Broly chose not to use their laundering service.

Alejandro’s forged identity for him in Bolivia was very reliable, and transactions under ten million wouldn’t attract the FBI or IRS’s attention.

“By the way, I casually killed that auntie who chatted with me last night. Does that violate the Continental Hotel’s rules?” Broly asked as he took candy from the counter, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth.

Charon’s heart skipped a beat, sensing that Broly might be hoping for the Continental Hotel to make a move against him.

“Of course not, Mr. Wayne. As long as it’s outside the hotel premises, the mutual killings among hitmen have nothing to do with the Continental Hotel…”

Broly sighed in disappointment and turned to leave.

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