American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 81: The Bargain (Two Updates)
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Santino glanced at the dark muzzle of the gun: "That's up to you, not me, Saron."

He looked at John again: "Precisely because we are family, I will not let you have the blood of your relatives on your hands. Families can fight each other, but they cannot kill each other."

“So now.” He leaned forward and pushed the blood pact in front of John: “John Wick, I command you by this pact, sworn with your blood and guaranteed by your soul, to persuade Gianna Antonio to voluntarily relinquish her seat at the High Table.”

“The orders issued by the blood pact holder must be carried out, John.” Santino snapped the blood pact shut, put it back in his pocket, and then turned his gaze to Beta.

“Of course you can shoot, Saron.” Santino looked at Beta calmly. “Assassinating a blood pact holder means the person who made the pact is not obligated to fulfill it. But you must understand that the entire High Table will not tolerate such behavior.”

“Salong, in the past few hundred years, the underworld has witnessed countless blood pacts being made, fulfilled, and terminated. However, the number of times someone has evaded their contractual obligations by killing the blood pact holder is extremely limited. Want to know why?”

Santino slowly rose, expressionlessly buttoning his suit jacket: "Because the High Table Council will hunt down every provocateur who dares to do so, to the death. They will pursue them relentlessly, eliminating everyone associated with the provocateur, leaving no one alive, until they bring the provocateur's head back to the High Table Council's main hall."

He coldly surveyed the two men: "Believe me, an organization that has existed for hundreds of years keeps its word."

Santino’s gaze finally settled on John: “Now, you have two choices: First, let Saron shoot me now, and then the High Table Council will send assassins to hunt down everyone connected to you until they return with your heads; second, go and persuade Jaina to hand over the seat to me. One choice means escape and endless trouble, the other is simple and straightforward.”

Beta remained motionless, the gun steadily pointed at Santino: "Is that so? You're family? What family member would go to such lengths to kill their own blood relative for power and status?"

Santino stared directly at the muzzle of Beta's gun: "That's up to you, not me, Saron."

Beta's finger began to tighten on the trigger, and John's hand suddenly jammed into the middle of the hammer, locking it firmly in place.

Beta turned to look at John, whose gaze was fixed on Santino: "Is this a long-term mission?"

Santino nodded: "Obviously, but my requirement is that it be done as soon as possible."

Beta slowly released the trigger. John took the weapon, his thumb lightly pushing the safety, and with a crisp "click," the pistol was placed steadily on the glass coffee table, making a clear clinking sound.

"Why did you do that?" John's voice was low and restrained.

Santino's gaze shifted between the two men, a playful smile on his face: "Why do people eat? Why do people sleep?"

He spread his hands, revealing exquisite gold cufflinks peeking out from his suit sleeves: "Why are we always chasing more money and higher status? Can you answer these most basic questions?"

“I don’t like hypocritical pleasantries.” His tone sharpened. “Power and status, that’s what I want. That’s why I came to you with the blood pact.”

He took a step forward: "Human desires are endless, John. I never suppress myself. I eat when I'm hungry, sleep when I'm tired, and if I want a woman, I go for the most beautiful one."

His finger slammed into John's chest: "For over thirty years, I've lived as I pleased. Now tell me, why should I tolerate someone riding roughshod over me?"

Santino's voice rose, a fanatical flame burning in his eyes: "Jaina is my sister, that's true, but no one can take what belongs to me!"

Santino took out the Blood Pact again, holding it tightly in his palm: "You can call me vulgar, call me worthless! But the Blood Pact doesn't care about such things!"

He practically roared, “I gave the order, and you must obey!” Finally, he turned to Beta, his tone softening eerily, “Saron, you should thank me for my restraint. I could have had John deal with your mother directly, but I only asked him to persuade Jaina to return the seat that was rightfully mine.”

“That’s mine! Mine!” Santino’s teeth were clenched so hard that each word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth.

Beta's gaze was sharp, his icy stare piercing through Santino.

In this tense atmosphere, John's voice was as calm as still water: "No one has ever said you are filthy, nor has anyone said you are a slave to desire."

Santino's mania froze on his face. His parted lips ultimately uttered no sound. His fingers trembled slightly as he mechanically shoved the blood pact back into his suit pocket.

"Yes, yes," he repeated softly, as if trying to convince himself.

As he turned to walk toward the gate, his steps seemed a little weak.

“John.” His voice suddenly regained its strength: “Complete the mission as quickly as possible. Don’t even think about escaping the blood pact.”

The metal doorknob gleamed coldly in his palm: "We all have weaknesses. What I care about is the power that Jaina took from me, but what about you? What do you care about?"

He slowly turned around: "If one day I die because of my own greed, I will be willing. But what about you? Can you bear the pain of losing what is most important to you?"

Beta's every word sounded like it had been pulled from an icebox: "Are you threatening us?"

The madness on Santino's face vanished, replaced by a more dangerous calm: "They're just calculating their own chips."

His gaze swept over the two men: "Clearly, your chances of winning this bet are slim."

His final gaze fell on John: "So, do as I say."

The door hinges groaned softly as his figure was gradually swallowed by the closing door. With a soft click, the villa fell silent again, leaving only the heavy heartbeats of two people.

Beta turned around and her gaze fell on John.

John tilted his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over the pistol on the table.

“This could have been easily resolved, couldn’t it?” Beta’s voice was tinged with suppressed dissatisfaction.

John turned his head and looked directly into Beta's eyes: "We all have people we can't let go of, and that's our biggest weakness. Have you thought about what to do with the people you care about? Are you going to shoot Santino and take them on the run until the High Table finds you and beheads you? Or are you going to kill Santino first, then personally deal with everyone you care about, and declare war on the entire High Table?"

His voice was deep and powerful: "Only those who are truly free from all attachments are invincible. Without you, without Matilda, without Leon, without Jaina, I would have been faster than you just now."

　Updating 6 words a day is too grueling. The author has been updating 4 words every few days, so I'm taking a break. Please forgive me.

　
(End of this chapter)