John Wick left. No one chased him, and no one tried to stop him. Melin had given him a chance—would he follow his original wish to live out his life as an ordinary man, or would he return to being a killer?
After much thought, John Wick chose the latter. But instead of returning to the Continental Hotel, he became Melin's personal assassin. He would kill only those Melin wanted dead.
This left Melin speechless. The ones Melin wanted to kill—correction, the gods he wanted to kill—Wick couldn't. And those Wick could kill, Melin never even spared a glance.
So, in a way, John Wick had actually chosen the former path.
But Melin didn't care. Helping John Wick was just a little seasoning in his life.
John Wick, though the protagonist of a string of films in his previous life, was still just one among the countless masses. A life that stirred the soul was, in the end, just a single ripple in an endless sea.
Now, the man sitting across from Melin was someone who could truly influence the entire world.
T'Chaka, King of Wakanda, the true sovereign of a hidden superpower on Earth.
Roughly speaking, in terms of both wealth and scientific technology, Wakanda far surpassed any other country in the world—especially technology. Thanks to its vibranium deposits, its current level of advancement was conservatively estimated to be at least fifty years ahead of the United States.
Vibranium—one of the strongest metals in the Marvel universe—not only incredibly durable, but also capable of absorbing kinetic energy, was often called sound-absorbing steel.
…
…
The armor and claws in Logan's body, and even Steve's iconic original shield, were made of adamantium. But adamantium itself was created from a small amount of vibranium combined with a large variety of rare metals.
And the source of pure vibranium? Extraterrestrial meteorites. So even though Wakanda was the primary producer, every use depleted its limited stockpile. That's why the outflow of vibranium was tightly controlled, and its black market price was beyond measure.
And now, this hidden nation's king had come to Melin on his own. That alone made Melin pay some attention.
"Thank you very much for seeing me, Mr. Melin."
"You're welcome, T'Chaka. As far as I know, there's no connection between Wakanda and the Sanctuary. What brings you here?"
"That's exactly what I'm hoping to change, Mr. Melin. Wakanda has long been seen as a backward nation, but—"
"T'Chaka, if you're just here to ramble, you can leave now."
Though T'Chaka came with humility and made a good first impression—kind and upright—being a king inevitably shaped his habits: probing, bargaining, and striving for his nation's maximum gain.
It was understandable. But Melin disliked it.
"Uh…" Cold sweat formed on T'Chaka's brow. That probing had been instinctive, and he hadn't expected Melin to call it out so bluntly. He immediately dropped his royal posture.
"My apologies, Mr. Melin. As King of Wakanda, I naturally must act in our country's interest."
"So speak plainly. I may be free, but I don't like wasting time."
"Then I'll get to the point, Mr. Melin. I hope you can support Wakanda."
Melin didn't respond immediately, waiting instead for T'Chaka to continue.
"You surely know that Wakanda appears to be a poor nation, but thanks to vibranium, our technology is among the world's best. That's our advantage—but also our threat. Other nations have long coveted our vibranium and tech, pressuring us constantly. That's why Wakanda has had to remain closed off. But for true growth, we need to open up. I hope you and the Sanctuary can support us."
Melin acknowledged his point. Wakanda had always occupied an awkward position. It didn't have the population or territory to be a superpower, but its technology surpassed the world's by decades. This made every nation want to either woo Wakanda or monopolize it, though none dared confront it head-on.
Wakanda's closed-off status had served its people for a time, but economic and social development now demanded openness.
What they lacked was a backer.
That backer needed to be absolutely impartial, uninvolved in Wakanda's internal affairs, yet powerful enough to deter all others.
The Sanctuary was the perfect candidate.
But T'Chaka wasn't confident the Sanctuary would help. From the start, they had made it clear they would not interfere in international affairs.
And T'Chaka didn't believe Wakanda had anything to offer the Sanctuary. Given the current strength of the Saints, no technology in the next two centuries could pose a threat to them.
"You should be talking to Shion, not me," Melin said after a pause.
"…We were presumptuous, Mr. Melin." T'Chaka understood—this was a polite refusal.
To the world, Melin was a divine figure—a symbol of both spirit and might, possessing supreme authority. But he generally didn't manage the Sanctuary. That role belonged to Pope Shion, who was deeply trusted by Melin and handled almost all non-critical affairs.
T'Chaka had sought out Shion before, only to be politely declined due to the Sanctuary's stance of independence. That's why he had taken the risk of approaching Melin directly—for just a sliver of hope.
"No matter," Melin said. "The Sanctuary's position must remain unshakable. Otherwise, one exception leads to another. We neither have the time nor interest to meddle in your politics."
"Understood, Mr. Melin. We'll take our leave now." Though disappointed, T'Chaka didn't push further and left with his entourage.
Watching T'Chaka's somewhat dejected figure, Melin began to seriously consider the potential benefits of supporting Wakanda—and how to do so discreetly, without undermining the Sanctuary's principles.
Suddenly, he thought of someone—someone perfect for the task. He dialed Shion's number.
"Lord," Shion answered after just one ring.
"Did King T'Chaka of Wakanda come to see you?"
"Yes, he asked for our support during Wakanda's transition to openness. I declined, citing the Sanctuary's position."
"I recall there's a young man from the Jamir clan—named Kiki—who just earned a master's degree in materials physics?"
Melin didn't know everyone in the Sanctuary. He had only heard of Kiki recently, when Shion reported that Jamir had produced a new prodigy. At a young age, Kiki had already mastered Cloth Repair techniques and introduced new methods to armor restoration and forging. Mu had taken him as a disciple, grooming him to be the next Aries Gold Saint. That's why Melin remembered him.
"You mean…"
"Didn't Kiki just publish a paper on the strength of raw materials before Orichalcum refinement? It might be a good opportunity for mutual learning and exchange, don't you think?"
On the other end, Shion immediately understood what Melin meant and replied, "Yes, my lord. I believe such research is always worthwhile. I'll arrange everything right away."
"Good. And make sure he's well protected—Kiki is one of the Sanctuary's finest."
"Yes, sir."
After hanging up, Melin grinned. With the Sanctuary as the core, the surrounding affiliated or cooperative forces were like puzzle pieces, slowly assembling. The picture grew larger, more complete.
…
After Melin's refusal, T'Chaka gathered his disappointed thoughts and began the journey back to Wakanda. Without the Sanctuary's support, their original plan would have to change significantly.
"Sigh… Looks like another delay," T'Chaka murmured as he rubbed his aching temples.
Since his father's time, they had planned to open Wakanda to the world, but the timing had never been right. The emergence of the Sanctuary had seemed like a beacon of hope—only for that light to dim moments ago.
What he didn't know was that, just around the corner, fortune was already returning.
"Your Majesty, a call from the Prince."
T'Chaka blinked, then took the phone.
"Father."
"Is there something you can't decide on your own?"
"I just received a message from the Sanctuary. They're requesting to send a delegation to Wakanda for academic exchange. I can't authorize it alone."
Hearing "Sanctuary," T'Chaka froze. Upon hearing the rest, he was even more baffled. Hadn't they just rejected him? Why send a delegation now?
But after a moment of thought, T'Challa understood—and was overjoyed.
"Did they say when they're arriving?"
"No, they're waiting for our reply."
"Approve it immediately. Set a time for their arrival."
"Yes, understood."
"I'm heading back now. Make sure everything at home is in order. We must welcome the Sanctuary's guests with our very best."
"Yes."
From the moment he hung up until his return to Wakanda, the smile never left T'Chaka's face.
"Father, what's gotten into you?"
It wasn't unusual for his father to be happy, but he'd been grinning for three days straight—even in his sleep, according to his mother.
"Son, what's your opinion on the delegation from the Sanctuary?"
"We can't afford to offend the Sanctuary. Wakanda has no choice but to accept. But I am a little worried, Father—what if they make unreasonable demands?"
"Still too green," T'Chaka thought to himself.
"You've heard the rumors about the Sanctuary and the Saints, haven't you?"
"Yes, but Father, rumors are just that. We must discover the truth for ourselves."
"Good—you don't believe in hearsay. That's a solid mindset. But you still lack depth. You only see the surface."
T'Challa didn't argue, waiting instead for his father to elaborate.
"A few hours ago, I was just rejected by the main god of the Sanctuary. Now they're sending a team for exchange. Don't you find the timing… too convenient?"
Hearing this, T'Challa began to think. Soon, he pieced it together.
"You're saying…"
"Heh, you still have much to learn. When they arrive, come with me to greet them. During their stay in Wakanda, they'll be your responsibility."
"Yes, I understand."
T'Challa felt a surge of excitement. As the heir to the throne—and to a certain special mantle held by every Wakandan king—he had long looked forward to meeting the Saints.