Scene — Outside the Assassination Agency
Jake's feet slammed down on another shadow-forged platform, the construct dissolving into black mist the moment he pushed off it. The agency building was finally in sight — a sleek tower of black glass and steel rising from the center of the district like a blade.
Almost there.
Wind tore at the loose hospital gown he was still wearing, drawing stares from pedestrians far below.
A translucent timer blinked in the corner of his vision.
00:03:07
Jake tightened his grip on the suitcase.
Virgo had vanished minutes ago.
He landed on the final shadow step and looked down toward the plaza in front of the agency entrance.
Only a few feet left.
His eyes flicked again to the timer.
SKREEEEEECH
The sound tore across the pavement like steel scraping glass.
Jake's eyes widened.
A massive figure slid across the ground from the side of the plaza, boots grinding through concrete as if the earth itself were brakes.
The shockwave rippled outward.
Dust rolled through the air.
When it cleared—
Virgo stood directly between Jake and the agency doors.
The giant maiden slowly straightened, towering, muscular frame wrapped in faint elemental energy. Her pitch-black eyes locked onto him without emotion.
She extended a hand.
"Give me the suitcase."
Jake froze for half a second.
A thin line of sweat crawled down his cheek.
"…Where did you even come from?" he muttered, irritation creeping into his voice.
Virgo didn't answer.
Jake glanced at the timer again.
00:01:58
His jaw tightened.
Two minutes?
His gaze shifted back to the giant woman blocking the entrance.
There's no way I finish the mission with her standing there.
He exhaled slowly.
"I tried to avoid fighting you," he said quietly.
Black mist began spiraling around his hand.
"…but it looks like I don't have a choice."
The shadows condensed.
Metal formed.
A sleek shadow-forged katana slid into existence in his grip.
Jake lowered his stance.
Virgo's massive body leaned slightly forward, ready to move.
Then—
A voice came from behind Jake.
Deep.
Cold.
The kind of voice that carried the weight of someone who had already decided the outcome.
"I don't know why I thought sending Virgo would save my energy."
Jake's entire body locked.
A chill ran down his spine.
"…I'm going to have to kill you.... myself."
Jake turned slowly.
A silhouette of a man stood behind him.
Black suit.
Face hidden in shadow.
But his eyes…
They burned an unnatural crimson.
The man's fist was already moving.
A killing punch.
Jake felt the air pressure collapse around him.
Pure killing intent flooded the space.
His instincts screamed.
Too fast.
Everything went black.
—
Warmth.
Something wrapped gently around Jake's neck.
Not choking.
Almost… casual.
Jake blinked.
Light returned to the world.
A man stood between him and the suited attacker.
One arm around Jake's shoulders.
The other casually draped around the suited man's neck.
Like three friends posing for a photo.
Blonde hair.
Bright blue eyes.
An almost childish grin.
The same man from the hospital.
Jake stared, stunned.
"…What."
The suited man spoke first, voice flat with boredom.
"Is this your doing, Michael?"
Michael scratched the back of his head.
"Wheeeell…"
He stretched the word as long as possible, clearly avoiding the question.
"Sorry, Dante," he said cheerfully. "That was the only way to prove my point."
Then he blinked.
"Huh?"
Thin strings had begun wrapping around his body.
Dozens of them.
Nearly invisible.
Michael tilted his head curiously.
"…Oh."
SNAP
The strings tightened so fast they seemed to slice the air itself.
Michael's body separated into clean pieces.
Torso.
Arms.
Legs.
Head.
Everything fell apart.
Jake's eyes widened—
But there was no blood.
The camera of the moment shifted upward.
Michael was floating in the air above them.
The body below dissolved like a mirage.
An afterimage.
"Whoa, Trish!" Michael laughed. "If I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to kill me!"
Two figures approached from the far side of the plaza.
One was a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and controlled steps.
Beside her walked Dravers, white hair catching the sunlight.
The older woman stopped a few meters away.
Her expression was not amused.
"What the hell is going on?"
Michael landed softly.
"Well," he said proudly, clasping his hands behind his back, "remember when I said the agency was running out of prodigy assassins?"
Trish crossed her arms.
"And?"
"And you asked if the admission officers were doing such a terrible job that I should do it myself."
Michael beamed.
"So I did!"
He gestured dramatically at Jake and Dravers.
"Evidence!"
Jake and Dravers stood frozen.
Their thoughts screamed simultaneously.
Wait… these are professional assassins?!
He made us fight REAL assassins?!
Is this guy a freaking psycho?!
Michael's eyes suddenly widened.
"Oh."
He counted.
"One… two…"
He looked around.
"…Aren't there supposed to be three of you?"
Silence.
Micheal shrugged casually.
"Well. I guess the other one died."
He didn't even look concerned.
Jake and Dravers stared at him in horror.
Michael clapped his hands happily.
"Well! The two of you are actually my favorites anyway."
Then—
Laughter echoed across the plaza.
Everyone turned.
A massive dark-skinned muscular man wearing a tank top was walking toward them.
Sitting comfortably on his shoulders—
Adrian.
The two were laughing like a father and son after a baseball game.
Adrian pointed at something while the giant man laughed even harder.
The entire plaza went silent.
Jake blinked slowly.
Dravers stared.
Dante looked mildly annoyed.
Trish sighed.
Michael grinned like this was the greatest thing he'd ever seen.
And nobody—absolutely nobody—understood what the hell was going on.
Adrian and the massive man finally reached the group.
The muscular man lowered his shoulders slightly and Adrian hopped off like a kid dismounting a ride.
They were still chuckling.
Adrian wiped a tear from his eye.
"Man… that was hilarious."
The giant man grinned. "Son, I would like to know everything about you."
They both suddenly noticed everyone staring.
Jake.
Dravers.
Dante.
Trish.
Michael.
Even Virgo was silently standing off to the side.
Adrian blinked.
"…Why the hell is everyone staring?"
The big man scratched his chin.
"Did we miss something?"
Michael clapped his hands together cheerfully.
"Well! I guess he didn't die."
Adrian frowned.
"Wait— what?"
Michael ignored him completely.
"Anyway!" he announced loudly. "Since you three passed what I like to call 'the test of a lifetime'…"
He spread his arms dramatically like a stage performer.
"I'll allow you to choose your own mentors!"
He paused.
Then placed a hand on his chest with mock humility.
"Now obviously," Michael sighed heroically, "you'll all want to choose me."
He waved toward the others like they were backup dancers.
"But please, out of courtesy, at least consider one of my friends."
"Try not to hurt their feelings too much when you pick the best option."
Behind him, Dante rubbed his temples.
Trish rolled her eyes.
Arnold snorted.
—
Meanwhile.
Inside Jake and Dravers' heads:
Like hell I'm choosing that psychopath.
Dravers' eye twitched.
He literally pinned us against some of the strongest assassins here just to prove a point.
He didn't even consider that we might die.
I don't want to see the kind of missions he'd give someone.
Jake's thoughts weren't much different.
This guy is insane.
Who throws rookies at S-rank assassins as a demonstration?
If I become his student I might actually die.
Jake's eyes drifted to Dante.
The man stood calmly with his hands in his pockets, red pupils half-lidded in boredom.
Well… he has to be the strongest one here.
Meanwhile Dravers' eyes locked onto Trish.
Her posture was composed. Confident. Deadly.
She definitely has to be the strongest here.
Both of them crossed their arms, pretending to think.
Jake thought carefully.
How do I choose him without looking desperate?
I don't want him to think I actually want him.
Dravers thought just as carefully.
How do I choose her without making it obvious I want her as a mentor?
I refuse to look desperate.
Then—
Their eyes lit up.
Ha! I know exactly what to say.
Both of them stepped forward.
At the exact same time.
"I want my mentor to be the strongest one here."
They spoke in perfect synchronization.
They froze.
Slowly turned.
Looked at each other.
"…You copied me."
"…You copied me."
Adrian suddenly raised a hand.
"I choose daddy—"
Everyone turned.
Adrian froze.
"…I mean—"
He coughed violently.
"Mr. Arnold."
He cleared his throat again and straightened his posture.
"I mean… I also choose the strongest one here."
He quickly looked away like the awkwardness might evaporate if he ignored it.
Silence fell.
Then—
Dante turned around.
"So they want the strongest."
Trish sighed.
"Apparently."
Arnold cracked his knuckles.
"Kids these days."
The three of them started walking toward the agency doors.
Dante waved lazily over his shoulder.
"Well."
"They're all yours, Michael."
Jake blinked.
Dravers blinked.
Adrian blinked.
"Huh?"
Michael smiled brightly.
—
Jake's brain short-circuited.
Huh?!?!
Dravers' thoughts exploded.
WHAT?!?!
Adrian's jaw dropped.
"WAIT—"
Jake's thoughts screamed.
It's not possible.
Dravers' thoughts screamed louder.
THIS— THIS—
THIS PSYCHOPATH IS THE STRONGEST ONE HERE?!?!
Michael placed a hand over his eyes and turned away dramatically.
"…I'm so honored."
His voice trembled like he was holding back tears.
"I always believed in you three."
Jake stood frozen.
This is the worst possible outcome.
His mind replayed the moment.
Dante walking away.
Dante not reacting.
Dante casually giving them away.
Jake's eye twitched.
Dante isn't the strongest…?
Michael sniffed loudly.
Then turned back around with the biggest grin imaginable.
"Alright students!"
He clapped once.
"Who's ready for training?"