For a competent villain like Vincent, anyone or anything that could adversely affect his plans must be dealt with before implementation. Castle was a person with significant unpredictability, and Vincent knew that allowing him to continue unchecked would inevitably introduce uncontrollable variables into his plans. Therefore, it was not surprising for Vincent, who had wielded power and life-and-death decisions over others for many years, to decide to eliminate Castle directly.
Meanwhile, Castle, who was driving and pondering, also realized this issue. However, he had yet to understand that Vincent's intention was to physically eliminate him. He thought Vincent's mistrust had merely led him to have Castle followed.
Since someone was tailing him, Castle decided against visiting Abraham's antique shop today. Although Henry was an immortal monster, Abraham was just a normal seventy-year-old man. Bringing the tail to Abraham could result in Vincent, failing to get to Castle, venting his frustration on Abraham. This would be a disaster.
Castle resolved not to go to Abraham's store, avoiding bringing trouble to the father and son. Simultaneously, he was furious, thinking Vincent was a brutish and ungrateful old bastard who saw him as an easily bullied weakling.
Castle decided to lead his tail on a wild goose chase today, testing if Vincent harbored malicious intent. Driving through Manhattan's streets for about ten minutes, he confirmed that he was indeed being followed. The car trailing him made no effort to disguise its presence, diminishing Castle's initial excitement about playing with Vincent's so-called experts. This was more akin to a street thug's attempt at tailing—far from intimidating.
Castle couldn't help but mockingly think Vincent must have scraped the bottom of the barrel to send such amateurs. If this was his best effort, perhaps Castle had misjudged him.
Realizing this approach was wasting his time and gas, Castle drove to Central Park and parked at the entrance. He decided to see if Vincent's men intended to merely observe or to launch an attack. He generously provided a battleground, relatively quiet compared to Manhattan's bustling streets.
Castle was surprised to see the two followers park directly behind his car. From his peripheral vision, he noticed one of them in the passenger seat was making a phone call. This confused Castle—were they simply tracking him or calling reinforcements?
Growing increasingly excited, Castle felt no fear. Instead, he found it amusing that Vincent was considerate enough to entertain him. Walking into a secluded path in Central Park, Castle retrieved two Glock 17s, four loaded magazines, and two silencers from his stash, preparing himself for any confrontation. With 112 bullets, unless Vincent sent an entire squad, Castle doubted he would run out of ammunition.
Castle decided that if Vincent truly sent someone to kill him, he would give Vincent a lesson, showing that writers could kill effectively, not just with words but also with bullets when pushed to the brink.
Hiding his weapons and ammunition, Castle emerged from the quiet path, strolling leisurely through Central Park. He chose deserted areas, considering the potential collateral damage to passersby if a fight broke out.
Everything seemed calm, but Castle's instincts told him danger was near. He remained vigilant, even contemplating calling his mayor friend for a concealed carry permit. After all, if he ended up in a shootout in Central Park, he didn't want to risk being arrested by Beckett's team without a permit.
Lost in these thoughts, Castle reached the lakeside and sat down in a quiet spot. His pupils contracted as he recognized a familiar face approaching—Larsen, who had previously almost killed Mozzie in the original series.
Understanding Vincent's deadly intent, Castle relaxed. Although Larsen was a seasoned soldier, his skills in assassination were inferior to John Wick's. Larsen might handle someone
like Mozzie, whose intellect outshone his physical prowess, but against a prepared Castle who had already recognized him, Larsen stood no chance.
Watching Larsen approach, Castle decided to strike first to avoid any mishaps. Larsen was less than fifty meters away, feeling confident that Castle, whom he considered an easy target, had unknowingly walked into his own death trap. Larsen thought Castle had no clue he was being followed, as evidenced by the amateurish tailing methods he had deployed.
Planning to quickly and painlessly kill Castle as a reward for making his job easier, Larsen didn't realize his thoughts were his last. Castle, sitting relaxed, suddenly transformed into a predator. Smiling eerily at Larsen, Castle's hand moved like lightning, producing a silenced Glock. The word "Goodbye" barely left Castle's lips before two silenced shots hit Larsen—one in the chest to immobilize and another in the forehead to finish him.
The shots drew no attention. Castle's chosen spot was secluded, and the silencer ensured the shots were unnoticed. His calculated approach and the use of John Wick's Mozambique Drill—two shots to the chest, one to the head—were executed flawlessly. Larsen, unable to react, fell dead, his mission to kill Castle unfulfilled.
The scene's irony was profound. Larsen, a competent killer, underestimated Castle, who had turned the tables swiftly and lethally. Castle, often perceived as a mere writer, demonstrated that underestimating him was a fatal mistake. As Castle stood over Larsen's lifeless body, he knew Vincent had miscalculated disastrously.
Feeling a mix of relief and adrenaline, Castle moved away from the scene, blending into the park's tranquility. He silently vowed that anyone else Vincent sent would meet the same fate, reinforcing that a writer could be as deadly as any assassin when cornered.
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