Having a deep familiarity with New York City's subterranean network, the Bowery King led his men swiftly through the maze, bypassing the police cordons with ease.
At a maintenance hatch three blocks away from 71st Avenue, the Bowery King emerged, followed by his top enforcer, Earl, and thirty of his most elite soldiers. Each man was a veteran of the streets, heavily armed with assault rifles and tactical gear.
As they stepped onto the surface, the silence of the night was heavy. There were no echoes of gunfire, no sounds of clashing steel.
The Bowery King's heart hammered against his ribs. Is it already over? Did the Elder win, or was he overwhelmed?
He didn't dare dwell on the darker possibility. He gave a sharp whistle, and his unit sprinted toward 71st Avenue.
As they rounded the corner into the blockade zone, a thick, metallic scent hit them like a physical wall. The Bowery King shuddered. How many people had to die for the smell of blood to carry this far down the street?
Moving with extreme caution, they crept toward the center of the zone. Little did the Bowery King know, the moment they had entered the street, Hayate and Shizune had already locked onto their positions.
If Hayate hadn't subtly signaled Shizune to stand down, the Bowery King and his men would have been intercepted and eliminated by the medical ninja before they ever saw the target. They would have been the first "friendly fire" casualties of the night.
As they got closer, the carnage came into full view. The Bowery King saw Elder Hayate sitting calmly in a chair, conversing with an Asian woman. Seeing his leader unharmed, the King felt a wave of profound relief wash over him.
Then, he looked at the surroundings. His pupils dilated in shock.
A shredded transport bus, a flattened armored vehicle, the hollowed-out ruins of the Shiranui Agency, and a carpet of corpses that seemed to cover the entire block.
The Bowery King dropped the stealthy approach and sprinted the final few yards. He dropped to one knee before Hayate. Earl followed suit instantly, and the thirty men behind them mimicked their leaders, creating a sudden clatter of knees and gear on the pavement.
Thirty-two men knelt in silence before Shiranui Hayate.
"Forgive us, Elder Hayate," the Bowery King gasped, sweat dripping from his brow. "My reinforcements arrived too late!"
Hayate looked at the group—each man bristling with grenades and rifles—and a small smile played on his lips. "You aren't late. You're the first to arrive. I appreciate the initiative."
The King exhaled, a weight lifting from his shoulders. Being the first to show up in a crisis was a political victory he couldn't have bought with gold.
"Tell me," Hayate said, his voice level as a light breeze carried the scent of death past them. "How did you know to come?"
"Elder," the King replied, head bowed. "Every beggar and vagrant in this city reports to me. When the streets around this area and the Continental began to be cleared of the homeless and cordoned off, I received word immediately."
"I knew something was wrong. I tried to call the agency and your personal line, but both were dead. I contacted Winston at the Continental, learned they were under fire, and mobilized my men. I also informed the Adjudicator, John Wick, so he could rally the other New York syndicates. More help should be arriving shortly."
Hayate nodded. The agency's landline and his cell phone had been obliterated in the first RPG volley.
"Stand up. There's no need for kneeling," Hayate said. "The threat here has been neutralized. Every enemy is dead."
The Bowery King rose, looking at his leader with newfound awe. He glanced at his heavily armed squad, then at the destruction. "Since we are here, Elder, please—give us a task. We cannot stand idle while you have suffered such loss."
Hayate thought for a moment. "Since you're here, don't let those weapons go to waste. Have your men start clearing the field. Secure the perimeter and begin the cleanup."
"By your command, Elder!"
The Bowery King didn't hesitate, immediately deploying his men to organize the bodies and salvage what they could. Hayate turned back to Shizune, though their private conversation had effectively ended.
Elsewhere
The second wave of reinforcements—the Belarusian Roma—had been less fortunate with the police. The Director's massive convoy was stopped at the edge of the blockade. Even with her deep political connections, the "counter-terrorism exercise" cover story was too rigid to bypass by road.
Frustrated, she ordered her convoy to pull back. Like the Bowery King, she led her soldiers through the service tunnels, infiltrating the zone on foot.
The New York Continental
After thirty minutes of slaughter, the hotel's defenses were crumbling. Under the ruthless leadership of Bakuto and Sowande, the Hand was winning.
The initial blackout had helped the Continental's guards, but the two Fingers of the Hand had used their mastery of Chi to sense life force in the dark. One by one, the hotel's tactical teams were being picked off.
The first three floors had been "pacified"—meaning everyone, from guests to staff, was dead. Charon, the loyal concierge, had met a grim end at Bakuto's hands, a Chi-enhanced blade driven through his heart.
Victory was tilting toward the Hand. Without outside help, Winston wouldn't survive the hour. Bakuto and Sowande had split up; one was clearing the guest rooms, while the other led a strike team toward Winston's fortified safe room.
Suddenly, Sasuke and Rock Lee arrived at the intersection facing the hotel. They looked at the two transport buses blocking the entrance and the dozen gunmen standing guard.
Sasuke drew a kunai in each hand, his eyes scanning the building. "Lee, let's make a game of it. Whoever gets the highest kill count buys dinner."
Rock Lee's eyes blazed with competitive fire. Influenced by Might Guy, he lived for such challenges. If Guy's eternal rival was Kakashi, then Lee's was the Uchiha genius standing beside him.
"You're on!" Lee shouted. "Prepare your wallet, Sasuke!"
Sasuke's Sharingan began to spin. "I'll count to three. We move together."
"One!"
"Two!"
"Three!"