I swung my greatsword at Hogwarts

John's vacation is definitely the most profitable one.

Because of other people's two-month vacation, he stayed there for at least half a year.

Time was ticking on him, and John made a little calculation.

"If it is calculated by time, I should have already."

But if he doesn't tell, who will know?

After solving the opening of the amusement park, it is rare for John to go home in another way.

He stepped out of the taxi, frowned, and looked at the cars that appeared at his house.

In the car, a pair of sharp eyes stared at John.

John swept over and walked straight home.

"That is to say, the Nigerian gang carried a terrorist weapon to intercept you, accidentally lost control and let themselves suffer the consequences?"

Wick's house.

Watson turned his eyes away and said, "Yes, that's right, Mycroft."

The man named Mycroft is an authentic British gentleman, from his meticulous clothing and demeanor, he is in line with a noble British gentleman.

When Mycroft, who has a high IQ, heard this answer, he showed an expression as if his IQ had been trampled on.

Mycroft took a deep breath and said calmly, "You are a smart man, Watson."

"You should know who turned this 'terrorist attack' into 'playing with fire' for you when the fire alarmed the cabinet."

Staring at Watson sharply, Mycroft said, "You almost destroyed the entire Tower of London."

"It's the Nigerian Gang..." Watson's voice gradually trailed off.

Mycroft said impatiently: "Your hotel is about to open, you should be honest with me."

He sat up straighter, making him aggressive, and said sharply: "Compared to the underground forces, the government is more reluctant to see a terrorist running around with a nuclear bomb."

As a person with great power in his hands, the aura of being a superior is approaching.

Watson bowed his head and pondered for a while, then stopped his thumbs stirring each other.

Looking up again, Watson made a major decision and said seriously: "I'll tell you the truth, Mycroft."

Mycroft smiled and nodded to indicate that he could speak.

Watson took a deep breath, with an unprecedented earnestness.

"It's like this, Nigeria helped secretly develop a weapon..."

"Watson!"

Mycroft interrupted him with pulsating veins on his forehead. He glanced at the vase on the table, feeling an urge to smash Watson on the head.

Fighting the urge, he threatened, "I need the truth."

With an innocent expression on his face, Watson whispered, "What I said is true."

"I was engaged in finance before I went to sea, so I don't know how to make terrorist weapons," Watson said sincerely, "You also know that my hotel is about to open, and for the sake of excitement, I invited many people."

"I don't remember your business being so big." Mycroft sneered, but kept his eyes on Watson calmly.

Watson waved his hand and said with a smile, "It's all small businesses. You know, I'm in finance, and I only have these methods in my mind."

He pointed to his head, "They are not fools, they know they need to make changes."

"The power of the country is getting bigger and bigger, and they can no longer be as unscrupulous as before."

"Those who are not disciplined are just low-ranking gangsters who re-establish order and let the industry be restrained."

Watson sat up, his eyes no longer dodging.

"For change, there needs to be gray as a buffer between black and white, and now I am willing to do that gray."

He chuckled and said, "Those who don't change can only be eliminated. Those who break the rules, we will be one step faster than the police."

"Are you changing the whole world?" Mycroft said coldly, "Do you have the ability, Watson?"

This is not a peaceful king in London, but a dark monarch facing all countries.

McCoff acknowledged the prestige of the 'Underground President' in London, but that was only limited to London.

He intends to support a leader as a fig leaf.

But Watson seems to have a different idea.

"America, Bear Country, Neon, Italy, China..."

Watson didn't answer him, but read the countries to himself.

The moment he raised his head again, the submissive Watson became the 'underground president'. He grinned and said, "There are only twelve seats, and they are either crawling under the high table or being shared on the high table."

"I don't have the ability, Minister," he smiled evilly, "but profit is the greatest ability. A monopoly business will never lose money."

McCoff was silent.

An underground president in London can't do it, but what about twelve underground presidents?

"Do you think you are the only one staring at me?" Watson said with a smile, waving his fingers, "FBI, GRU, Federal Intelligence Service, External Security Service..."

"They're all staring at me. I'm a transparent person, and everything is in their database, but..." Watson put a cross on his chin and chuckled, "Without me, this order that was finally established , will be broken up.”

"Guess... how many people will die?"

The atmosphere was eerily quiet.

In the almost frozen room, even the sound of petals falling became particularly obvious.

McCoff looked at Watson, who he thought he had always controlled, secretly accomplishing so much.

"I remember you were not that smart."

"People change, Mycroft." Watson shrugged. "When I become the father of my children and the husband of my wife, I should engrave my heart on my heart."

"Women and children can be negligent, but men must be careful."

Just then, the phone in the room rang.

Watson glanced at him and motioned for Mycroft to answer.

"Looking for you, Minister."

Mycroft glanced over and reached out to pick it up.

The voice on the other end of the phone rang, "McCoff."

He knew this voice, which belonged to the head of a certain security department.

Mycroft glanced at Watson, and said lightly, "For Watson Wick?"

"Yes, we need him, Mycroft."

"Crack."

The phone was hung up by Mycroft. He straightened his wrinkled vest, stood up with his hands in his pockets, and looked at Watson with a condescending gaze.

"I need to admit that the new world has failed on you." Mycroft stretched out his hand and said with emotion, "It's a wonderful game."

Watson got up, was level with Mycroft, and took the hand.

"I did my best."

"Transparent people will drive you crazy," Mycroft said with a deep look at Watson, "There are no secrets, no privacy, everyone you meet when you go out may be an agent of some country, and countless pairs of eyes stare at him. you."

"This means that from this moment on, you will no longer be able to trust everyone, even your wife and children."

McCoff expressed his admiration for Watson's determination.

This man did a daring thing. He turned himself into a piece of ash between black and white. Walking in black and white is more dangerous than picking teeth in a tiger's mouth.

He needs to be at a point of balance that is more exciting than sleeping on a wire rope.

"Is it worth it?" asked Mycroft.

Perhaps handing over that weapon would make Watson's life better.

But Watson said with a smile: "The hotel will open tomorrow, you can try the shrimp inside."

"I will, I hope it's delicious enough." Mycroft nodded, "It's better to have less sauce, my belt is a little tight."

This time, McCoff lost the confrontation, and the current Watson is no longer easy to handle.

He suddenly asked, "I don't seem to have seen your son."

Just then, the door opened.

John walks in.

Meet Mycroft.

"Hello," John said with a bright smile, "my name is John Wick."

"I wish you a pleasant meal at the hotel."

The moment McCoff saw John, he knew that he couldn't rely on this son to handle Watson.

On this young man, he felt it.

The line of sight scanned John in just a few seconds.

He came to a conclusion.

madman.

Mycroft stared at John and said, "You remind me of my younger siblings."

"Then the relationship between them and you must be very good." John said elegantly and politely, "People at the same stage always tend to cherish each other."

"No, quite the opposite," Mycroft said.

He looked at Watson and said, "My brother will like you too, Watson."

"Sorry, I'm married," said Watson warily.

Mycroft's face darkened, and he walked out the door.

He saw the driver in the car pale.

"That's not a person, is it?" As an MI[-] agent, the driver's hand grips the steering wheel.

In the past few minutes, no one knew what he had experienced.

Mycroft looked at the boy waving at him through the car window, and said to himself, "I'm too familiar with the smell of a lunatic."

Seeing one or two steps ahead of ordinary people is genius.

The one who sees eight or nine steps before a genius is a madman.

"New file."

"Name, John Wick, Codename... 0."

...