North American riot police: Start by arresting P. Diddy!

Chapter 175 Ballet - Killer Princess!!! (Seeking monthly votes)

"I hate Europe, and I hate those self-righteous Europeans even more!"

"What? Are you jealous of Europe's rich cultural heritage? Or do you admire their preserved constitutional monarchy tradition, like Queen Victoria?"

"Fuck cultural heritage! Fuck constitutional monarchy! Fuck Victorian!"

In the pitch-black night sky, a Gulfstream aircraft that took off from a private airport in New York is flying through the clouds.

Inside the cabin, Rorschach launched into a tirade against Harold, venting his grievances about Europe.

"Those European parasites, relying on the legacy of the Second Industrial Revolution, are lying in the warm bed of patent protection and intellectual property rights, doing the easiest work while enjoying the most luxurious life!"

"Look at the present day—the United States and Russia, whose national power far surpasses that of European countries, but what kind of lives do their ordinary people lead?"

"The vast majority of Americans need to work two or three jobs a day just to support their families, and some even have to sell their blood!"

"As for Russia, let's not even talk about it. That country is practically a cesspool now."

"Look at this, in Europe, it's either four days on, three days off, or paid vacation all the time."

"Enjoying the protection of American defense, cheap Russian energy, and cheap goods from the East with a clear conscience tells Harold."

"What exactly gives them the right?"

Harold was speechless after hearing Rorschach's words. He had to admit that, objectively speaking, what Rorschach said did make some sense.

It is indeed somewhat ironic that the people of the world's powerful nations are bearing heavy burdens while the citizens of these small European countries are able to reap the benefits without effort.

However, for Harold, who leans to the left, Rorschach's words were still difficult to accept.

He pondered for a moment, then slowly replied, "Actually, you've already given the answer, haven't you? Many European countries, despite their small size and sparse population, possess some of the world's top business giants."

"Companies like Novartis, Roche, and Nestlé, the world's largest food company, pay enough taxes to allow the citizens of these small countries to live a comfortable life."

Rorschach didn't refute, but simply shook his head meaningfully: "Just wait and see, Harold. I bet you, in a few years, once the economic development of the major powers in the East and West stagnates, the whole of Europe will be bled dry!"

I don't deny your opinion.

Harold shrugged nonchalantly. "But my love for Europe is purely for its cultural atmosphere. By the way, Rorschach, I have a castle in the suburbs of London, not far from Buckingham Palace. We can go there for a vacation sometime, and maybe we'll even run into Queen Victoria."

"Come on, buddy."

Rorschach lit a cigar with disgust. "It's the 21st century, why are they still worshipping royalty? Only a bunch of idiots in Europe would treat parasites like ancestors."

His eyes were filled with undisguised contempt for European royalty.

When they were with the Irish brothers, the two clowns never uttered a single kind word about Queen Victoria.

The two vividly depicted Queen Victoria's brutality.

They made up a joke: The German mustachioed man met Queen Victoria in hell, and the mustachioed man boasted, "I killed tens of millions of civilians on earth."

Victoria would only coldly reply, "That's right, what about last year?"

According to the Irish brothers, the casualties caused by Victoria's casualty gesture were an "achievement" that the entire Soviet Union could not match in 69 years.

How could Rorschach possibly have any goodwill towards a country like this?
What's more, his nanobombs might very well have fallen into the hands of the British, and the thought of this made him furious—he should have given them to that bastard Smith.

Inside the cabin, Rorschach and Harold sat facing each other, discussing their views on Europe. Harold, who had always been taciturn, had become much more talkative since meeting Rorschach, often arguing with him about trivial matters.

In today's terms, it's like arguing about who played Spider-Man best among Tobey Maguire, Andrew Garfield, and Tom Holland—a pointless but always heated debate.

As the two chatted about everything from European history to food and movies, Anna, who was wearing an eye mask on the sofa, couldn't help but lift the mask and roll her eyes.

She looked around and saw Brian and Stuwell fighting fiercely over a rubber bone in the aisle.

These two silly dogs, who were at odds with each other just hours ago, are now playing together again, jumping around in the cabin and biting everything in sight.

If Harold hadn't been so rich he couldn't spend it all, anyone else would have put them in cages long ago.

Across from him, long-haired John was fast asleep, leaning against a pillow.

This guy's stamina was clearly inferior to Rorschach's. After several gunfights to escape the High Table Society's pursuit, he couldn't stay awake and fell asleep as soon as he boarded the plane.

Anna gazed out the window at the receding American coastline, her eyes filled with both anticipation of seeing her girlfriend and a hint of unease.

She had a bad feeling that this trip to Europe might attract the attention of the KGB.
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Meanwhile, at an old castle estate on the outskirts of Milan.

A convoy of bulletproof Mercedes-Benz vehicles slowly drove out of the manor gates and headed towards the center of Milan.

Inside a custom-made bulletproof vehicle slightly behind the middle of the convoy sat a middle-aged woman dressed in black mourning clothes and wearing a black veil hat.

The woman was stunningly beautiful, with a mature charm that shone through her eyes.

Especially her full red lips and alluring curves; even the solemn mourning clothes couldn't conceal her captivating charm.

She was Gianna Antonio, the sister of Santino who died at the Continental Hotel in New York.

The current head of the Antonio family and the soon-to-be board member of the High Table.

Her face was grim, but it wasn't out of mourning for her foolish brother. After all, even if Santino hadn't died in New York, she had long planned to get rid of this stumbling block that prevented her from inheriting the position of High Table Director.

What truly made her uneasy was the phone call she received a few hours earlier.

The legendary assassin John Wick, the butcher who had done all the dirty work for the Antonio family, openly told her that he would be visiting her at dawn with Rorschach Butcher, the wanted criminal who had turned America upside down.

"This is outrageous!" Jaina clenched the black veil in her hand.

Those two bastards not only killed her good-for-nothing brother, but now they actually dare to swagger over to her door!

It's important to understand that the bounty she posted at the Continental Hotel was merely a smokescreen, a way to demonstrate the Antonio family's stance to other families.
She immediately ordered her men to mobilize all the family gunmen in Milan to surround the manor like an iron barrel.

What's even more impressive is that she sent out invitations to all the prominent figures in Italy's political, business, and cultural circles, preparing for a three-day lavish banquet at the estate.

In such a gathering of celebrities, even if those two lunatics wanted to take action, they would have to consider the potential international media storm it would cause.

But Jaina knew very well that this was far from enough.
Half an hour later, the convoy stopped in front of a Baroque-style ballet theater.

Gianna stared at the poster of twenty-six ballerinas in white stockings, their toes barely touching the ground, a cold smile playing on her lips.

The power that the High Table Council can mobilize is beyond the comprehension of those two American brutes.
(End of this chapter)