Two days later, at the Los Angeles Continental.
"Good to see you, Hunter."
"Hello, Cole."
Hunter, dressed in a sharp, casual suit, walked directly up to the concierge desk.
He looked at Cole and didn't bother beating around the bush.
"Cole, as a new member of the Continental..."
"Where can I buy the intelligence I need? I want to know who targeted me the other night."
Cole raised an eyebrow, though his perfectly composed expression barely shifted.
In truth, the concierge was paying very close attention to the handsome Asian man standing before him.
Initially, as the concierge of the LA Continental, Cole had merely categorized Hunter as a promising rookie with decent long-range sniping capabilities.
However, on the very day Hunter officially joined the Hotel, a specific, high-profile problem arose. The Continental urgently needed a top-tier marksman.
Unable to secure their usual elite snipers on such short notice, Cole took a gamble and offered the contract to the new guy.
That single job completely changed Cole's assessment of Hunter.
According to the post-mission analysis from the Hotel's technical cleanup crew, Hunter had executed a flawless, one-shot kill from nearly 1,300 meters away.
Even with the advent of high-definition, high-magnification optics in modern weaponry, the number of snipers in the world who could guarantee a hit past two or three hundred meters was relatively small.
A marksman who could guarantee a kill at 800 meters was considered top-tier, even among elite military Special Forces.
But a sniper who could pull off a flawless, one-shot assassination from over 1,000 meters?
Calling such a person a "god-tier marksman" wasn't an exaggeration.
In the five or six years Cole had served as the concierge at the LA Continental, Hunter was only the second sniper he had ever seen operate at that terrifying level.
If that had been the end of it, Cole would have held Hunter in high regard, but he still wouldn't have handed him the most suicidal contracts. After all, the Continental had plenty of elite close-quarters assassins who could take down ten men in a room.
But top-tier long-range snipers were incredibly rare, and they provided a crucial tactical advantage.
Then came the incident in Arizona. Hunter's "unconventional" execution had given Cole a genuine shock.
He had shot down a US military helicopter.
Based on the Hotel's intelligence gathered from the blast radius and the military's subsequent investigation, Hunter had not only systematically executed several elite Special Forces operators from 1,700 to 1,800 meters away...
He had actually shot the pilot of a moving helicopter from a staggering distance of 2,600 to 2,700 meters.
Because of this terrifying display of range and superhuman accuracy, the report had escalated all the way to Winston Scott, the Manager of the New York Continental who oversaw all US operations. Winston himself had to pull massive strings with the High Table to keep Hunter off the CIA and DoD kill lists.
That incident forced Cole to completely re-evaluate Hunter's lethality.
Just as Cole was beginning to assume Hunter was purely a long-range specialist, a new report crossed his desk this morning.
Two nights ago, Hunter's safehouse had been raided by a highly trained, coordinated hit squad.
Within minutes, operating entirely alone in close quarters, Hunter had slaughtered all twelve operatives.
Hearing this, Cole had to update his internal dossier yet again.
"This man is a born killer," Cole thought. "His future trajectory might even surpass John Wick's rising legend over at the New York Continental."
Because of this monumental shift in perspective, the way Cole looked at Hunter was now filled with undisguised appreciation and a subtle, calculated warmth.
Hunter was rapidly becoming the ace of the Los Angeles branch.
Winston had cemented his absolute authority as the Manager of the New York Continental (and his regional influence) precisely because he had discovered and cultivated a generation of legendary assassins during his early years.
Cole figured if he could secure the loyalty of this handsome, terrifyingly lethal Asian assassin, he might one day be in a position to take Winston's seat when the old man finally retired.
With those thoughts in mind, Cole answered Hunter smoothly.
"The Continental provides premium intelligence and consultation services. I can authorize a fifty percent discount for you on this inquiry."
"Three Continental gold coins. Give me a few hours."
Hunter was highly attuned to micro-expressions and shifts in attitude. He immediately noticed the subtle warmth in Cole's demeanor.
"He's looking at me with much more respect now. He's actively trying to build goodwill," Hunter analyzed.
Hunter wasn't one to reject a genuine olive branch.
Maintaining a blank expression, he nodded and reached into his suit jacket.
Under the cover of the fabric, he pulled three heavy gold coins from his [Inventory] and placed them on the mahogany counter in front of Cole.
Cole briefly inspected them, verifying the Continental's mint marks, then gave a slight nod.
He picked up a secure, heavy-duty phone from behind the counter and dialed a number.
"Run a full diagnostic," Cole ordered into the receiver. "Find out who authorized the strike on our member, Hunter Sun, two nights ago."
A voice murmured on the other end.
Despite his enhanced hearing, Hunter realized the phone's receiver was heavily encrypted and equipped with active noise-cancellation technology. He could hear that someone was speaking, but the words were completely garbled.
However, watching Cole's brow furrow into a tight knot, Hunter deduced that the organization behind the raid wasn't just some run-of-the-mill street gang.
Sure enough, Cole hung up the phone with a grim expression.
He looked at Hunter, his tone unusually serious.
"Hunter... would you consider letting the Hotel handle this matter on your behalf?"
"If you agree to complete another high-tier contract for us, entirely free of charge..."
"The Hotel will step in and permanently eliminate this problem for you."
"What do you say?"
Looking at Cole's grave face, Hunter's expression remained perfectly flat, his eyes cold and unyielding.
"I just want a name," Hunter said quietly. "I want to know who is trying to kill me."
Read ahead with 100+ chapters now with daily updates!
@patreon.com/Authorizz