The Shiranui Agency was a beacon of light in the dead of night. Inside, Wesley sat stiffly on a sofa, his eyes darting around the room in a panicked daze. On either side of him stood Rock Lee and Uchiha Sasuke—silent sentinels ensuring the "client" didn't make another run for it.
Since the moment he had stepped out of the van, Wesley had been anything but cooperative. His mind was a frantic mess, seeking any opening to escape this madness.
After a brief exchange with Iruka, Hotaru approached Wesley to begin the delicate task of communication. Meanwhile, Iruka stepped away to dial a familiar number.
"Master Hayate, we have made contact with the target, Wesley," Iruka reported, his tone formal.
"During the extraction, we were intercepted by an assassin from the Brotherhood. The threat has been neutralized. We have brought the target back to the Agency for temporary securing."
Hayate, who had yet to sleep, listened to the report with a slight frown. The fact that the Brotherhood had moved straight for an assassination attempt was... unexpected.
In the original story, Sloan sent Fox to recruit Wesley, not kill him, Hayate mused. They wanted to weaponize him against Cross. But my team's intervention must have flipped the script. If they can't have the pawn, they'd rather remove it from the board.
"Who was the assassin? Do we have a name?" Hayate asked.
"According to Hotaru's identification, it was Fox," Iruka replied.
"However, Lee killed her with a single strike. We were unable to conduct an interrogation."
Hayate's expression remained indifferent.
"I see. Keep Wesley under tight surveillance for now."
He paused, calculating his next move.
"Close the Agency to the public. We don't have the luxury of spare manpower for new contracts. We stay dark until this raid is over."
"Understood, Master Hayate. Team Iruka will not fail you."
Hayate ended the call. He felt no remorse for Fox's passing. In the movies, she was a striking, elite killer, but in this world, she was merely flesh and bone. Taking a direct hit from Rock Lee and expecting to draw breath afterward was a fantasy.
Besides, in the original timeline, she was destined to die by her own gun once her world of lies crumbled. To die now, still believing in her "mission," was perhaps a more merciful end. At least she died with her illusions intact.
Hayate scrolled through his contacts and hit dial.
"Cross. The Brotherhood moved on Wesley tonight. Fox is dead."
There was a heavy silence on the other end. Hayate continued, his voice dropping an octave.
"How much longer do you need? Their next wave will be twice as violent, and I am not a patient man."
The news of Fox's death sent a chill down Carlos's spine. To think they had sent her... but the relief of knowing his son was safe quickly took over.
"Let's meet tomorrow," Carlos said, his voice grim.
"I'll bring the tactical intel and the blueprints for the Textile Mill. If the plan holds, we strike immediately."
"Good," Hayate replied. "That's what I wanted to hear."
Deep within the Textile Mill, the air was thick with the scent of old wool and looming death.
Sloan, The Gunsmith, The Butcher, The Exterminator, The Repairman, and The Apothecary stood in a grim circle. Between them, laid out on a cold table, was the body of Fox.
Sloan's face was a mask of sorrow, his voice echoing through the hollow hall.
"Today, our sister Fox has been taken from us."
"First Mr. X, and now this. The architect of this tragedy is the traitor, Cross."
Sloan leaned into the light, his eyes gleaming with a manipulative fire.
"He has spat upon our faith. He has turned his back on Fate itself. He has even consorted with filthy mercenaries to shed the blood of his kin. Even Hotaru, whom we allowed to walk away in peace, has been seduced by his lies."
He let the words sink in before delivering the final blow.
"And why? Because his name appeared on the Loom. He has gone mad with fear, seeking to burn us down before Justice finds him. Tell me—what is the penalty for those on the Loom?"
"Extermination!" they roared in unison.
Sloan nodded, a cold satisfaction settling in his chest. His elite guard was thinning, but those who remained were the true believers.
"Gunsmith," Sloan commanded. "Tell them who we are up against."
The Gunsmith slapped a stack of dossiers onto the table.
"I pulled this from the black market channels. One name stands above the rest: Shiranui Hayate."
"He is a High-Tier member of the Continental. In the underworld, they call him the second Legend, right after the Boogeyman. Codename: Shinobi."
The Gunsmith gestured to the list of associates.
"He runs the Shiranui Agency. His staff consists of Hotaru—our retired sister—and three others: Umino Iruka, Uchiha Sasuke, and Rock Lee."
"All three are tagged as 'Ninjas.'"
"Children?" The Repairman spat, pointing at the photos of Sasuke and Lee.
"Do not be a fool!" Sloan barked. "They are more lethal than anyone in this room. Look at Fox's chest. That wasn't a bullet or a blade. That was done by the boy, Rock Lee."
The silence that followed was heavy with dread. They had seen the damage. It looked like Fox had been hit by a freight train.
The Apothecary hesitated, his voice low. "Are they... from The Hand?"
The Brotherhood had clashed with that shadow organization centuries ago before a fragile truce was struck. But Sloan shook his head.
"No," Sloan whispered, looking at the broken body of his best assassin. "These aren't Hand ninjas. They are something much, much worse."