Chapter 49: Loom of Fate
Jack and Wick sat across from each other at a small table in a dimly lit bar. The atmosphere was relaxed as they spoke.
Jack leaned back in his chair and sipped his drink, a small smile on his lips. "So, what about you, Mr. Wick? Why do you want to quit?"
Wick hesitated for a moment before answering. "Because of one person."
Jack raised an eyebrow in surprise. "...women?" he said with a smile. "Well, love, yes, this is indeed one of the emotions that can make people face life and death. For this, I toast you."
Wick rolled his eyes but couldn't help but chuckle at Jack's comment. "Do you know psychology?" he asked, still skeptical.
"A little bit," Jack said with a shrug. "It's just some interests and hobbies in my idle time. It seems that my analysis is right again."
Wick had to admit that Jack had a certain charm about him. "You're right," he said, "I just met her. I know that there are other...more meaningful things in this world."
"Then, for the time being, our purpose, to some extent, should be the same," Jack concluded, "We both have to fight against the hotel."
"What I want to do is not as difficult as yours," Wick shook his head and said, "I just want to quit."
"That's enough," Jack chuckled. "What kind of request will I give you, Wick?"
Wick braced himself for a difficult task but was surprised by what Jack said next. "If it were me, I would give you a task that you think you can't complete and let you die in that task. In this way, it is justified and maintains the dignity of the Continental Hotel."
Wick was taken aback. He had always known that the people he worked with were ruthless, but this was a new level of cold-heartedness.
"...So, what do you want to do?" he asked.
"I think you probably know it, too," Jack raised his glass and gestured to Wick. "I want to invite you to join the Templars."
Wick looked skeptical. "I didn't see anything that would allow me to join," he said firmly. "Your strength is very strong, but compared to what you have to do, it is still not enough, far from enough."
"This is just a pre-agreement, which means that you are willing to consider this matter," Jack said, unfazed. "You can choose after I have shown enough strength, but now, I need an advance answer because, in this way, you are worthy of my time and energy."
Wick took a sip of his drink and pondered Jack's words. "You are very confident," he observed.
"Because the extremes of things must be reversed, and the negative poles must be positive," Jack said cryptically. "I am the Templar who wants to bring sunshine back to this world."
Wick couldn't help but roll his eyes at Jack's grandiose statement. "It sounds like a religious lunatic is talking nonsense," he sighed.
"But..." Jack leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Who told me to try something a lunatic would do right away?"
The two men clinked their glasses together, echoing through the empty bar.
....
At The League of Assassins.
Carlos entered the secret room of the League of Assassins with a confident stride. He knew he wasn't supposed to be there, but as a master assassin, he had his ways of getting in. His eyes locked onto the looming figure of the Loom of Destiny, the inheritance of the Assassin League for thousands of years.
Carlos couldn't help but question its purpose as he approached the loom. Was fate truly guiding them, or were they just pawns in a game of power and manipulation? His hand gently stroked the spinning yarn, the gun in his other hand ready to take action.
"Are you still the original you, Destiny? Or have you become a tool for others to seek their gain?" Carlos asked softly, waiting for a sign of guidance.
Silence filled the room, and Carlos turned to leave in disappointment when a faint clicking sound suddenly caught his attention. He froze, watching as the loom began to move independently, without any driving force.
"Click, click," the sound continued as the loom parts started to move, weaving a section of spinning yarn. Carlos cautiously stepped forward, gently lifting the fabric and examining it under the microscope.
As the binary code automatically combined and corresponded in his mind, he finally parsed out the corresponding letters. "Sloan," he whispered in disbelief.
Carlos felt anger, regret, and a strange feeling of relief as he realized the truth. He had found the real enemy of the League of Assassins, and now he knew what he had to do.
With a determined expression, Carlos left the secret room, ready to face his destiny and take down the traitor. The Loom of Destiny had spoken, and Carlos would follow its guidance, even if it meant defying fate.
....Jack furrowed his brow, trying to wrap his head around what Carlos had just said. "So, let me get this straight...you asked the loom of fate, and it just started weaving on its own? Without any power source or anything?" He shook his head in disbelief. "That's some crazy sci-fi stuff right there."
Carlos chuckled at Jack's reaction. "I know, it sounds insane. But the Loom of Destiny is no ordinary object. It's been passed down through generations of assassins and is said to have been imbued with mystical power."
Jack raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Mystical power? Sounds like something straight out of a fantasy novel."
Carlos shrugged. "Believe what you will. All I know is that when I asked the loom who the enemy of the League of Assassins was, it started weaving on its own and spelled out Sloan's name."
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