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Morin understood Winston's intentions perfectly.
He wouldn't refuse this kind of goodwill. Winston was already on his list of people worth winning over.
Of course, even if someone on Morin's must-kill list showed the same friendliness, he would still accept it without hesitation.
And then-
When the time came, he would choose a swift and painless method.
He always acted when it was time to act.
Back in his previous world, he had taken money from drug lords and gang leaders, then turned around and arrested them.
Principles?
Letting them go would have violated his principles.
...
"So, Carlos," Morin asked, "have you thought about it?"
"...I'm willing to join the Templars."
Carlos answered after a moment of silence.
In truth, a thought had flashed through his mind just now.
Expose the assassins in the Fraternity who had betrayed fate. Kill them. Stay an assassin himself.
But he dismissed it immediately.
He knew Morin wasn't a good person. Morin wouldn't agree to a deal that resulted in a net loss.
And Morin had already made it clear-the goal of the Templars was to restore order to the world.
If it weren't for his faith, Carlos wouldn't have remained an assassin for so many years.
Wouldn't it have been better to live as a normal person?
A rich normal person.
Get married. Have children.
Carlos had longed for that life for a long time.
But he couldn't have it.
He had hardened his heart and abandoned his son, hoping Wesley would never step into this world and could live normally.
However...
To be honest, Carlos also felt helpless about Wesley.
Can't you stop being such a loser?
Carlos had always been torn.
If he didn't teach Wesley, his son would probably stay a loser forever.
But if he did teach him-
Wouldn't that go against his mother's wishes and drag Wesley into this dangerous world?
So he hesitated. Struggled. Stayed stuck.
If Morin hadn't appeared, Carlos would only have made his choice after discovering Sloan's manipulation of the loom, falling out with him, and leaving the Fraternity.
But now, he could make that choice earlier.
And he was willing to.
Because now, there was a better option.
"I know this sounds sudden," Carlos said before Morin could respond, "but for an assassin, using fate is the one thing that can't be tolerated."
He continued.
"I've been tired for a long time. For years, I wanted a way out of this world, but I never saw hope."
"It wasn't until you found me that I realized something."
"The only way to become a normal person... is to destroy this world."
"You showed me hope."
"The Templars stand for order. Only by restoring order can we completely destroy the assassin-dominated world!"
"The Templars will bring the holy fire of hope to this world!"
Carlos spoke with passion.
Morin stayed silent.
Morin: "..."
"...What's wrong?" Carlos asked, suddenly uneasy. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No. Nothing's wrong," Morin said sincerely, patting Carlos on the shoulder. "That was excellent. Truly."
"My decision was correct."
"An assassin who betrays his organization to become a Templar really does understand the Templars best."
"I've decided. You'll be in charge of writing slogans for the Templars."
Assassin master = veteran Templar.
The equation held true.
If he weren't a veteran Templar, he couldn't have said something like that.
Morin hadn't even passed on the fire yet, and Carlos was already lighting it himself.
"Huh?" Carlos froze. "No-Morin, don't!"
He panicked.
"Cough. Just kidding," Morin said, waving his hand. "Relax. I'm better at slogans than you."
Then he turned serious.
"So. When are you planning to contact Wesley?"
"Do we have to?" Carlos shrank back again.
"If you want your son to be taken by the Fraternity, trained, and misled into becoming our enemy," Morin said casually, "while you become a Templar and fight them-go ahead."
"...Alright." Carlos sighed. "Do you have a plan?"
Morin: "???"
"Wait. Wesley isn't my son," Morin said, baffled. "You're the one going to get him. Why are you asking me?"
"Because I don't have a plan," Carlos said calmly. "That's why I'm asking."
"You really are..." Morin sighed.
Still, he understood Carlos's dilemma.
"Fine. Since I'm the one who brought you into the Templars, I'll give you a detailed plan."
...
Over the past few days, Wesley had felt like someone was watching him.
Every time the feeling surfaced, he looked toward it.
Every time, he saw nothing.
Nothing abnormal at all.
It made him think his anxiety was acting up again.
Just like now.
He was walking down a dark street.
He'd just finished overtime under his unreasonable, fat boss and was heading home late.
His body was exhausted.
His stomach was empty.
Enduring his boss's verbal abuse had left him in a terrible mood.
And then-
That feeling returned.
The feeling of being watched.
Hoo... hoo...
Wesley's breathing turned ragged.
His heart raced. Blood surged.
His vision began to overlap.
Sounds and sights slowed down.
"Damn..."
He leaned against the wall and pulled out a bottle of sedatives.
Empty.
"Fack!"
Wesley threw it away, forced himself up, and kept walking.
The distance that normally felt short stretched endlessly.
Especially with that gaze he couldn't shake.
Hoo-
Wesley suddenly looked up.
In his slowed vision, he saw a piece of clothing flash past a corner and vanish.
Someone really was watching him.
"Who is it..."
His body no longer listened to him.
He staggered forward, steps uneven, toward the corner.
But when he reached it-
The alley was empty.
Just like always.
"Who is it!" Wesley shouted. "Come out!"
After venting, he collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily, forcing his heart rate to slow.
He hadn't eaten.
He was exhausted.
He had activated his high-consumption assassin bloodline.
The fact that he hadn't passed out yet meant one thing.
He was a true prodigy.
Then-
Footsteps.
Slow.
Getting closer.
Wesley jolted and tried to sit up.
Before he could, someone stepped in front of him.
"Don't move."
The figure wore a ski mask.
A gun pointed at Wesley.
"Wesley," the man said calmly.
"I've been watching you for a long time."