Six days ago, Number 91 woke up to a dark envelope under his pillow. The moment he saw it, his body tensed. He quickly grabbed the envelope and tore it open. Inside the envelope is a payment token and a photograph of a young man with incredibly dashing white hair.
Beneath the photo was a single word: Kill. Behind it are the name and location of the target. Without any hesitation, he burned the picture and loaded the token into his account. Then, he got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. After a quick shower and breakfast, he dressed in a business suit and left his apartment. A short while later, he was on a plane to Ross City.
Upon arrival, he passed through customs like any ordinary traveler and hailed a cab. His destination wasn't far. When he reached a certain hotel-like building, he entered quietly. Immediately he approached the counter, he flashed a ring at the woman behind it.
Her welcoming smile instantly vanished as she pressed a hidden button beneath the desk. Moments later, he was escorted to an elevator that took him to the top floor.
There, he sat down in front of a computer and began his search for information on the white-haired target. After two hours of digging, he had what he needed. He stood up, left the building, and made his way toward the western part of Ross City.
A short subway ride later, he found himself at an amusement park. He boarded a roller coaster, but his eyes weren't on the ride. Instead, he focused on a mansion far in the distance—his real destination.
After hours of watching the house, Number 91 returned to his hotel. The next day, he went back and repeated the same routine. He did the same on the third day, but this time, something felt off. There seemed to be some sort of block—an obstacle he couldn't quite put his finger on. Nevertheless, on the fourth day, he returned.
To his surprise, he noticed a car leaving the mansion that morning. Discreetly, he followed it. The car led him to Ross Mansion, a place with far more security. A short while later, a private jet took off from the property, heading toward Hiroshi City.
Number 91 returned to his hotel, calmly cleaning his room as if everything was normal. A few hours later, he was already en route to Hiroshi City, his focus sharp and unbroken.
Upon arriving in Hiroshi City, Number 91 wasted no time. He checked into a modest hotel under a different alias and immediately began scoping out the area. His target had to be somewhere in the city, but Hiroshi was large, bustling, and known for its heavy security presence. This wouldn't be as simple as following a car.
With swift, practiced movements, he rearranged the parts. In a surprising twist, the laptop transformed into a dagger with a burning dark red blade, glinting ominously in the low light. He carefully laced the blade with poison, ensuring it would do its job if the moment came. Satisfied, he sheathed the dagger, readying himself for the task ahead.
He moved silently to the bathroom, then slipped through the window, carefully entering the adjacent room—it belonged to the lady in his bed. He climbed closer and stopped just as he was right beneath the sealing.
He took his surroundings into his mental note before carefully touching the sealing. Like a foam in hot water, he discovered into the ceiling eerily.
Moments later, he found himself in a kitchen, making sure his aura was canceled out completely. He walked toward the washroom, once again merging with the wall. This time, he didn't emerge on the other side. Instead, he found himself staring at the white-haired youngster, who was drinking water, oblivious to the presence lurking just beyond the wall.
After a moment, the boy moved back to his bed. Number 91 watched intently, noting how he paused for just a heartbeat before jumping onto the mattress. Quietly, he sighed and unsheathed his dagger, preparing for the moment he'd been waiting for. He stepped out from the wall, making sure to remain undetected as he approached the bed.
Each step was calculated, and soon he was just a breath away from his target. He will be able to strike any moment, all he has left is a single step and he took that step.
But as he leaned in, ready to attack, something dark pierced through him—or more precisely, something stabbed at his soul. In that instant, his vision began to darken, and the dagger started to loosen in his grip.
He lost control, unable to fight against the creeping pain and helplessness he found himself in. His dagger slipped and his body lost all strength. His vision turned blurry...
Just before he blacked out, he caught the white-haired boy's gaze who was muttering something at him. He manage to read the boy's lips as he murmured, "Sleep tight. We have a lot to talk about when you wake up."
His vision faded into pure darkness, the world slipping away from him.