-Every job must be paid accordingly

  The clock read 7:34 AM. Cain woke up in his apartment to the sound of a gunshot outside his window. Not surprising—he lived in a rough part of town where every second person was either stealing, killing, or planting drugs. The corrupt police barely touched this neighborhood, or at least not enough to actually stop anything.

  Cain’s apartment looked poor, unworthy of the money he made from contracts. He lived modestly, keeping only what he truly needed. Around his neck, he always wore half of a heart-shaped pendant—his most guarded possession. The other half was hidden in a drawer. Every morning began the same way: with a cup of green tea. This one was no exception. He got out of bed, boiled the kettle, then slipped into pants and a t-shirt.

  "Last night at 11 PM, two burglars were killed after stealing $2,000 worth of electronics," said the voice from the TV Cain kept on for background noise. "Witnesses claim the killer was a mysterious man with a long blade. Police were late to the scene. This is not the first incident where criminals were found pierced through by a sharp weapon."

  "All the police ever do is whine," Cain muttered, sipping his hot tea.

  He rarely showed his face in the neighborhood. Always slipping out of his hole-in-the-wall apartment unnoticed. Masks annoyed him—he preferred to keep his face bare. They only got in the way.

  "Good morning, Cain. You’ve got an update on your next mission," came a call from his informant.

  "I'm listening," Cain replied, calm as ever.

  "About that drug dealer… he’s got his own little army."

  Cain didn't flinch. Killing one or ten made no difference to him.

  "Go on," he said coldly.

  "Target’s name is Luis. Mexican. Used to deal in weapons, but now he’s focused on drugs. Your updated contract is to kill Luis—and anyone who gets in your way. We originally agreed on five grand, but I’m adding a little bonus."

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Cain’s phone buzzed. Twenty grand had been transferred to his wallet.

  His interest stirred—not because of the money, but because the job had just become bloodier.

  "Fine. I’ll head out once the sun sets."

  "Perfect," said the informant. "Hope you reach the abandoned factory on time."

  Call ended.

  Cain knew the hit needed to be completed before midnight, but for him, a job like this rarely took more than an hour.

  7:00 PM.

  Day was fading into night.

  "Time’s up," Cain said to himself.

  He jumped out his window, sprinted across rooftops toward the old factory. Thirty minutes of nonstop running, but he barely broke a sweat—just a slight breathlessness.

  Luis stood outside with a few of his men. Cain watched from above, preparing to strike.

  But just as he was about to leap, two cars pulled up. Six more men emerged.

  "So this is the army the informant warned me about?" Cain smirked inwardly.

  “I’ve been waiting!” Luis shouted. “Hope the product’s good. If not, we’re done.”

  “C’mon, Luis. You know us. I’d let you test it yourself if I could, but… business is business,” said Sem, the dealer in charge.

  Luis’s men pulled out three dark briefcases and handed them over. The buyers opened them on the car hood and examined the cash.

  “Mmm, smells like money,” Sem grinned. “Boys! Unload the goods!”

  “Are you sure no one’s watching us?” one of the gang members asked nervously.

  “Just do what I say and stop asking dumb questions!” Sem barked.

  "Idiots," Cain thought, amused. "I’ve missed watching clowns like these..."

  Two of Luis’s guys carried duffel bags full of drugs into the factory.

  “Ahh…” Sem sighed with satisfaction. “I like what I see.”

  “If there’s more,” Luis said, “we can keep doing business.”

  “Hold on,” Sem said. “We still need to talk.”

  “I don’t have time for that,” Luis replied.

  “Maybe you’ll make time,” Sem muttered, cocking a gun hidden in his coat. “Be a shame if our best client suddenly vanished.”

  “Heh... maybe I do have an hour to spare…” Luis said, clearly rattled.

  “Wonderful. My guys will join us. Stevie, you stay outside. Keep watch.”

  Luis, Sem, and five others went inside.

  “Great. Just my luck. Left out here to rot again,” Stevie muttered, arms crossed, leaning against the car. He was all alone.

  A perfect target.

  "Ugh, bored outta my mind..." Stevie wandered a bit, stretching his legs.

  “What the hell is that sound?” he mumbled, hearing something darting through the dark. “No way that’s a squirrel... Hey! Who’s there? Show yourself!”

  He drew his pistol and pressed his back against the wall.

  Then he felt it—something sharp against his spine.

  “Wha—?”

  That was all he could say before the katana pierced through him.

  “You picked the wrong line of work, Stevie,” Cain whispered.

  “Luis, I want to talk to you about a little project I’ve got in mind…”