Chapter 122: Baba Yaga
After saying that, John turned and prepared to leave the bath chamber.
"Wait."
Ethan stopped him.
He took a deep breath, briefly recalling something in his mind before instinctively slipping into the most basic duty of a "priest"—
buffing his teammate.
"Power Word: Fortitude."
"Power Word: Shield."
"Renew."
One invisible layer of power after another settled onto John's body.
Ethan cast every enhancement spell he currently had.
Honestly, he felt a little disappointed.
Because what he'd originally wanted to see…
was John going full slaughter mode.
Just imagine it—
A frontline assassin tearing through enemies nonstop while the priest in the backline spammed heals and shields like a maniac.
The health bar drops for half a second—
then instantly shoots back to full.
It would basically look like Tsunade activating the Strength of a Hundred Seal.
Completely unreasonable.
That was true invincibility.
The only real concern would probably be weight.
If John got shot too many times and couldn't remove the bullets on-site, he might eventually end up carrying several hundred pounds of metal inside his body and become too heavy to run.
Ethan sighed quietly to himself.
Then suddenly remembered something.
Right.
I have that one skill.
The one that lets me share vision.
Mind Vision.
[Allows the caster to observe the world through the target's eyes.]
The description was painfully straightforward.
The skill let you see the world through someone else's eyes.
Enemy or ally—it didn't matter.
The only requirement was that the spell had to be cast face-to-face at close range.
Without hesitation, Ethan raised his hand and cast the spell on John.
The door closed softly behind him.
And suddenly—
the world sank.
A second perspective appeared inside Ethan's mind.
John's perspective.
At first, there was only darkness.
Then—
a corridor.
Wide, clear vision.
No unnecessary scanning.
No hesitation.
Every corner, every doorway, every shadowed edge was captured, processed, and discarded almost instantly.
The viewpoint barely paused.
Before Ethan could even process one detail, the vision had already shifted to the next point.
It made him dizzy.
The camera shake was insane.
Ethan almost never used Mind Vision.
Partly because of the range and duration limitations.
But more importantly—
because the mental strain was brutal.
He had tested it once as a child.
And it had worked.
He really could see the world through another person's eyes.
For less than three seconds.
Then the spell forcibly collapsed.
What followed afterward was two straight days of splitting headaches that felt like his skull was being torn apart.
Ever since then—
he'd never dared to use it casually again.
But things were different now.
The viewpoint remained stable, and the side effects were… practically nonexistent.
Ethan suddenly realized something.
If he used this skill while playing Texas Hold'em, it would be completely broken.
He could literally see the other players' cards.
Of course, that would also be incredibly unethical.
Silently, he crossed that idea out in his mind.
While Ethan was busy entertaining random thoughts, John had already entered the concert venue.
As he passed someone in the crowd, the man seemed to sense something and turned sharply toward him.
"John?"
John stopped and turned back, recognizing him immediately.
He gave a small nod.
"Cassian."
Gianna's bodyguard.
Cassian's eyes briefly lingered beneath John's suit jacket.
"You're working?"
"Yes," John replied calmly. Then he asked in return, "You?"
"Yes."
Cassian nodded once more before adding,
"Enjoying your evening?"
"Afraid so."
The moment those words left John's mouth, Cassian's expression changed.
In an instant, he understood.
Something had happened to Gianna.
Without emotion, he said,
"Then I'm sorry to hear that."
Neither man moved.
Around them, the crowd remained alive with music, laughter, and flickering lights, as though the two of them existed in an entirely separate world.
Meanwhile, Ethan's brain was still trying to decode what "Enjoying your evening?" was even supposed to mean.
He guessed it was some kind of underworld code phrase—
Mission complete.
Then—
everything exploded at once.
Both men drew their guns simultaneously.
Neither was faster.
BANG!
BANG!
At point-blank range, both shots landed.
The impact slammed into their chests like hammers.
The bulletproof suits absorbed most of the force, but the shock still crushed the breath from their lungs.
John staggered backward.
Cassian stumbled too.
Both men hit the floor.
Both rose at the same time.
Neither bothered firing a follow-up shot.
John was already moving.
He rolled to his feet, spun around, and sprinted toward the side corridor.
Cassian dropped to one knee and pressed a hand to his communicator.
"Target confirmed."
"John Wick."
"All personnel—seal the building."
Responses crackled through the channel instantly.
Instead of chasing John, Cassian pivoted and rushed toward the bath chamber.
Ethan's vision had still been linked to John's perspective.
The moment he saw Cassian heading for the bathroom, he hurriedly switched back.
He quickly retreated to the hiding spot John had used earlier.
"Fade."
[Gradually causes the caster to vanish from perception, making enemies overlook their presence and cease targeting them.]
Cassian pushed the door open.
Blue lighting.
Still water.
Blood.
Gianna lay motionless in the pool of crimson that had not yet fully cooled.
Dead.
Cassian stood there without moving.
He looked at her for a very long time.
So long that time itself seemed meaningless inside that room.
Eventually, he reloaded his weapon and turned away.
Only then did Ethan finally let out a breath of relief.
His vision switched back to John once more.
John was running.
Hallways.
Staircases.
Emergency corridors.
Gunfire erupted above him.
He never looked back.
He shoved open a door and entered the underground passageways.
The tunnels were damp, narrow, and poorly lit—
but John had already scouted the route beforehand.
He moved quickly.
At the next corner, the corridor suddenly tightened.
A woman stood there.
Santino's mute subordinate.
Thin build.
Relaxed posture.
As though she had been waiting there all along.
She didn't raise a weapon.
Instead, she lifted both hands, palms outward.
Sign language.
I'm alone.
John didn't lower his gun.
He remained exactly where he was.
No advance.
No retreat.
From Ethan's perspective, everything looked clean.
The woman's expression twitched briefly with irritation.
Again, she signed:
Only me.
John still didn't move.
The next second—
figures emerged simultaneously from behind pillars, corners, and side tunnels.
Gun barrels rose in unison, black muzzles aimed directly into the corridor.
Too many.
John turned and ran instantly.
Bullets exploded behind him, hammering the stone walls and spraying debris into the air.
The entire tunnel ignited with gunfire as shots chased his silhouette through the darkness.
John fired back while retreating, dropping several enemies in front—
but more kept flooding in behind them.
Forced backward under constant pressure, his footsteps grew heavier and heavier within the underground structure.
His breathing roughened.
The bulletproof suit absorbed impact after impact, each hit dragging at his body like invisible chains.
Then—
he reached the spot.
The AR-15 was waiting there.
The instant John grabbed the rifle, the momentum of the fight reversed completely.
Violent gunfire swallowed the pursuing attackers.
Bodies dropped one after another.
Their formation shattered.
The once-dense flood of footsteps rapidly dissolved into scattered panic and chaos.
Echoes ricocheted off the stone walls as though the entire underground structure was being emptied by force.
John pushed forward steadily.
By the time the third magazine ran dry, the corridor was no longer crowded.
He still didn't stop.
John hurled the rifle into the nearest enemy, metal slamming into bone with a sickening crack followed by a scream.
A second later, his pistol was already in hand.
At point-blank range, he executed the enemy cleanly.
Then he kept moving.
Pain continued piling up throughout his body.
His breathing lost its rhythm.
But his momentum never did.
The second stash point.
He reached up and retrieved the hidden weapon from atop the stone wall.
A belt of shells wrapped around his waist.
The Benelli M4 shotgun settled into his shoulder.
And once again—
the rhythm of the fight changed.
BOOM!
At close range inside a cramped tunnel, there was no room for negotiation.
The shadows themselves seemed to tear apart as enemies were blasted backward into darkness.
BOOM!
BOOM!
The corridor began to feel "wider."
Because fewer and fewer people remained standing.
Bullets kept striking John.
The armor continued doing its job, but the cost became increasingly obvious.
Every impact briefly knocked his vision out of focus, making the world shudder violently around him.
John never retreated.
He kept advancing.
Until finally—
light appeared ahead.
After the final thunderous blast of the shotgun, silence returned to the underground tunnels.
Only echoes remained.
The last enemy collapsed.
Without pausing, John disappeared through the exit on the far side.
The connection broke.
Ethan suddenly snapped back to reality, his vision returning to normal.
He inhaled sharply.
"…No wonder they call him the Baba Yaga."
"That's completely insane."
Then he lowered his gaze toward Gianna's body in the bloodstained bath.
"Now…"
"It's my turn."