American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 72

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The blazing New York sun streamed through the porthole as the plane slowly landed on the runway at JFK Airport.

After Beta and the American tourists exchanged Facebook accounts, they agreed to meet again sometime in the future.

When they parted, they high-fived and hugged like old friends. In just one short trip, Beta had already made the whole group regard him as a friend worth getting to know.

This almost instinctive social talent has always been one of Beta's greatest strengths.

Stepping out of the terminal, the sweltering heat of a New York summer hit me.

Beta squinted, took out sunglasses from his pocket, and put them on. He stood in the shadows of the pick-up area, quietly waiting for the car that would come to pick him up.

People were coming and going around, and no one noticed this ordinary tourist.

Beta leaned lazily against a pillar, his gaze catching sight of a black Cadillac Escalade approaching in the distance. He picked up his backpack and slowly walked to the roadside to wait.

The car honked twice and came to a steady stop in front of him.

The passenger window slowly rolled down, revealing John Wick's long-unseen face, which Beta almost didn't recognize. His once-unkempt stubble was now clean-shaven, his hair was neatly trimmed, and his eyes behind his sunglasses were clear; he radiated a long-lost vitality.

“Yeah,” John greeted briefly.

Matilda, who was in the back seat, couldn't wait to squeeze to the front and waved excitedly: "Salong!"

Beta, leaning against the car door, looked John up and down: "Are you suffering from a split personality?"

John took off his sunglasses and gestured for him to get in the car.

Beta climbed into the passenger seat, fastening her seatbelt as she teased, "Dressed up so well, could it be that you've fallen in love again?"

Matilda wrapped her arms warmly around Beta's neck from the back seat: "I did all the dressing up for him! Isn't John handsome now? Like a male celebrity!"

Beta turned to look at her: "And what about me?"

“Of course he’s handsome!” Matilda answered without hesitation.

Beta then noticed the "horrific state" inside the car.

The passenger-side dashboard was covered in colorful stickers, the leather seats were covered with red plush neck pillows, and several cartoon dolls hung on the door handles, looking like a pony and its family. The original black floor mats had been replaced with red plush ones, and even the steering wheel was wrapped in a bright red leather cover.

At this moment, John Wick, the legendary assassin from the Continental Hotel, with his hands stained with countless drops of blood, was firmly gripping the steering wheel that was making this girl's heart flutter.

Beta exclaimed incredulously, "Is this really my car?"

Matilda proudly declared, "These are all my designs! How about it? Isn't it much warmer? The old, dark carriage was so gloomy and uncomfortable."

Beta looked at John: "You really modified my car like this, just like she asked?"

John, looking straight ahead, replied briefly, "Yeah."

Beta's gaze darted back and forth between Matilda's radiant smile and the transformed John, before he finally sighed, "It's worth the price. This car is yours from now on."

“Really?” Matilda’s eyes lit up.

“Really.” Beta nodded.

“Then I want the whole car painted red!” Matilda immediately started planning: “And I’ll change the rims to red too!”

Beta looked at the excited little girl in the rearview mirror: "No problem."

Matilda clapped her hands excitedly: "Great!"
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The Cadillac Escalade's tires crunched over the gravel driveway with a crisp squeak as it slowly drove into the familiar sky-blue villa garage.

As soon as Beta opened the car door, Matilda jumped out of the back seat, running towards the villa while shouting, "Leon! Dinner's ready!" Entering the villa, Beta couldn't help but stop. Every corner had been restored to its original state, exactly as he remembered.

John gently closed the door leading to the garage behind him. In the kitchen, even the special set of glassware was reproduced exactly as it was, just like Helen's set of glassware was still there.

Beta's gaze fell on the fireplace.

In front of Helen's portrait, the glass bowl, now only half intact, still sits quietly. It was the one he left behind, and John had unexpectedly preserved it intact.

Beta looked at John.

John nodded slightly: "I think it should be there."

The soft clatter of cutlery came from the kitchen.

Leon, wearing an apron, was pouring steaming hot oyster soup into a glass bowl.

"Hey, Salong!" He placed the soup bowl on the table wearing oven mitts. "Well done, we all saw the news. Are you alright?"

Beta shook his head: "It was just a minor issue, it's already been taken care of."

Leon took off his gloves and pulled out a dining chair: "Sit down, everyone, let's eat."

Matilda bustled around the table like a busy bee, distributing her carefully chosen cutlery to everyone: red forks, red knives, red spoons, and plates with floral patterns. A smug look spread across her face; she was clearly very pleased with her aesthetic choices.

Beta watched this scene and suddenly burst out laughing—a long-lost, heartfelt laugh.

At the dining table, three professional assassins with blood on their hands obediently held the red cutlery provided by the eleven-year-old girl.

The aroma of Leon's oyster soup filled the air. After finishing his bowl, John surprisingly served himself a second one. Matilda was excitedly recounting funny stories from school.

In this incongruous yet strangely harmonious scene, they are enjoying dinner prepared by their family, just like any ordinary family.

Beta used the red cutlery to cut the steak on the plate. The meat was perfectly cooked, tender and juicy without any blood.

He raised an eyebrow in surprise: "I didn't know you had such culinary skills?"

In his memory, Leon had always been a cold-blooded killer who kept potted plants as companions and spent his days eating hamburgers with a blank expression.

Leon pushed the vegetable salad in front of Beta and said calmly, "You'll naturally acquire these skills after living alone for a long time." His tone was calm, revealing a composure honed by life.

Beta forked a piece of lettuce: "I can't do that, Helen takes too good care of me."

John nodded silently in agreement, his spoon lightly tapping against the rim of the bowl.

“I’m learning!” Matilda suddenly interjected, her eyes sparkling. “Once I learn, I can make dinner for you and John!”

Beta teased her, "What about Leon?"

The little girl tossed her short hair and pouted, "Anyway, he always appears and disappears like a ghost!"

Beta burst out laughing.

Leon could only shake his head helplessly.

John calmly ladled out the third bowl of soup, the rising steam from the table blurring the corners of his upturned mouth.

A warm atmosphere filled the dining table, and Helen's name was mentioned naturally, as if talking about a family member who had temporarily gone away.

No one deliberately avoided the conversation, nor was there excessive sadness. She seemed to have simply gone on a long trip and could walk in at any moment to join the dinner.

Everyone's eyes held a warm longing, but no trace of sorrow. Helen's presence still flowed vividly in every corner of this home, only in a gentler way.

(End of this chapter)