Billionaire in Kingsman with a Marvel System

After finishing his call and hearing Viggo describe how John Wick had fought his way down from the nightclub's rooftop to the ground floor, killing all the moles that Pushkin had planted around Viggo, and then casually walking out of the nightclub with Viggo's son Iosef, Abram couldn't help but acknowledge John Wick's skills as a top-tier assassin. This filled him with confidence about having John Wick handle their task, and he eagerly walked back.

However, he hadn't taken a few steps before he saw the so-called top-tier assassin he had such high hopes for being lifted effortlessly by the throat with one hand by the seemingly harmless William. Seeing John Wick, who looked like a dead fish, not daring to move, Abram was struck speechless with terror, his mouth agape as he stared at William.

Winston and Caron, who were the closest, were also shocked by William's speed. Although they had some understanding of William's abilities, they hadn't expected him to be so fast that no one could react in time.

As for John Wick, who was experiencing it firsthand, his emotions could only be described as turbulent waves. It really had been just a blink of an eye, and he was already being held up by one hand. Feeling the force from William's grip on his neck, John Wick knew that if William wanted to, he could snap his neck like a straw.

Being intimately familiar with human anatomy, John Wick didn't dare to move recklessly. He knew that with his 90-kilogram body weight, even without William applying more force, he could accidentally break his own neck if he struggled.

This led Abram and Winston to believe that John Wick dared not resist at all, as if he would willingly die if William wished it.

Only Caron, who was also a skilled fighter, understood that John Wick's stillness was the wisest choice. Otherwise, before John Wick could draw his gun to fight back, his neck would already be broken.

After feeling the pain in his neck and the difficulty breathing, John Wick finally snapped out of his shock. He quickly placed his hands on William's wrist to support himself, reducing the downward pressure on his neck. Once his breathing eased a bit, he hurriedly tried to explain:

"Mr. Devonshire, I didn't mean to betray you—this is a misunderstanding."

William stared at John Wick's face, twisted from the lack of oxygen, and his eyes, full of a desire to survive. Narrowing his eyes, William said, "I don't think it's a misunderstanding. Your look just now disgusted me. I can sense what you're thinking—love has clouded your judgment and made you irrational, making you think you can defy the world."

"Wait, William, put Wick down first," Winston, who had lived for decades and was a shrewd old man, knew exactly what William was about to say. It was nothing more than some harsh words, which Winston saw as pointless bluster. Such talk would only escalate the situation.

Winston quickly interrupted William, not wanting his nephew to say something irreversible in a fit of rage, which could lead to suspicion and mistrust among his subordinates, forcing him to kill John Wick in the end.

Right now, things hadn't completely fallen apart, and John Wick still wanted to explain himself, which meant the situation was still in William's favor.

As for the Continental Hotel's no-kill rule, Winston didn't even want to bring it up. He feared that if William, in his youthful pride, believed he was forced to spare John Wick due to the Hotel's rules, he might stubbornly refuse to back down and, in a fit of anger, actually snap John Wick's neck, leading to an irreversible situation.

The High Table wouldn't care whether William was Winston's nephew or not. To uphold the rules and maintain their reputation, they would definitely send assassins after William. Whether they could succeed was another matter, but Winston absolutely didn't want such a situation to arise. So he quickly said, "Let's talk it out. Since Wick says it's a misunderstanding, let him explain. You can decide after he's finished."

Even though William didn't particularly want to listen, he still had to give Winston some face. Moreover, in this situation, he either had to actually kill John Wick or let him go for now. Winston's interruption helped William calm down a bit. Killing John Wick now wouldn't benefit him at all, and William never did things that didn't benefit him.

Even if there was a rift between them, as long as John Wick wanted to retire, there was still value to be extracted from him. William would never let go of an opportunity to squeeze every bit of value from a retiring assassin.

With these thoughts, William grinned, let go of John Wick's neck, and walked back to sit on the sofa, waiting for John Wick's explanation.

If the explanation satisfied him, John Wick would remain under his command, and William considered himself to be a decent boss to his subordinates. But if he wasn't satisfied, then he'd use John Wick as he saw fit. If a replacement was needed, he could always bring in Carlos from Switzerland and check on that mercenary Colin, who looked just like Deadpool and was reportedly undergoing training. Whenever William thought about the name "Colin," he couldn't help but think it was a fake—only an idiot mercenary would reveal his real name.

William's thoughts were interrupted by a fit of intense coughing.

John Wick, who had just been released, was bent over, clutching his neck and gasping for air, but the effort to breathe so quickly led him to start coughing violently.

William didn't rush him. He pointed to the sofa beside him, signaling the fearful Abram to sit down. As for Winston, William didn't show too much affection in front of outsiders, but if he had known the depth of Winston's concern for him earlier, he would have been quite pleased—Winston was indeed a caring uncle.

Winston rolled his eyes at William, then waved at Abram, who was too scared to approach, signaling that it was safe.

With Winston, the host, leading the way, Abram followed him to the sofa and sat down, looking very eager to please. He had no choice; they were in the Continental Hotel, and there was no room to stand on ceremony. Abram reassured himself that as long as he could leave the hotel safely, a little groveling was no big deal.

After coughing for a while and finally catching his breath, John Wick straightened up, keeping his head down, and glanced fearfully at William, who was sipping whiskey.

After some thought, John Wick silently bent his right knee and attempted to kneel on one knee.

However, just as before, when he tried to kneel, he was struck by an immense force, stumbling backward several steps. A glass tumbler fell to the floor, rolled a few times, and came to a stop, reflecting in everyone's eyes.

John Wick staggered back until his heel hit the ascending steps, where he finally steadied himself. As soon as he stood firm, he heard William's voice.

"I'm not your parents, I'm not an emperor, and I'm certainly not the one above, so I don't like people kneeling before me. Especially you, John Wick. People you've knelt before never meet a good end."

Inwardly, William cursed John Wick just like he had last time—why couldn't this guy break his kneeling habit? In the movies, John Wick kneeled several times. Foreigners sure were soft-boned, kneeling at every turn.

For heaven's sake, if you're going to kneel, at least don't kneel to me. William certainly didn't want to be cursed by Deadpool fans.

"I don't believe that kneeling signifies submission. I prefer to reason first, and only when reason fails do I resort to guns and knives," William said as he poured himself another glass of whiskey, taking a large gulp. "Tell me, John Wick, does your life belong to me?"

John Wick, still grateful for William's refusal to let him kneel twice, quickly nodded. "Yes, Mr. Devonshire, my life belongs to you."

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