The cold winter that blanketed the vast forest of pine trees and cones could not diminish the fire burning deep inside Xhylan's heart.
"Do you know what the consequence is for leaving the organization? You'll be killed! For goodness' sake, Ceres, you have to think about this. What about the people you've been protecting all this time?" Xhylan shouted angrily at his best friend. He had just learned that she wanted to quit being an assassin, even though she knew exactly what would happen to her.
"I will think of a way to get them to spare my life, since—"
"Wow! Just wow! Do you really think they'll give you a snowball's chance in hell if you go and beg them on your knees?! You're dreaming!"
"But, Xhy—"
"I can't change your mind either, can I?" Xhylan muttered dejectedly.
They had been through thick and thin together, and he had always adored her. She wasn't the flawlessly beautiful type of woman; hers was a scarred kind of beauty. Those scars were proof of the missions she had completed, and they were her pride. She was rough, with edges of raw, strong emotion. Yet, deep inside this unpolished stone, if you took the time to get to know her and peek beneath the surface, you would see the true beauty of her heart.
"If they ever do allow me to leave, would you still be my friend?"
"I will always be your ally. I will be your sword and your shield."
"Hey! I don't need that type of friend. You don't have to protect me. At the end of the day, am I not sitting at the very top of our ranking list?"
"Tsk! So boastful!"
Ceres had planned her departure from the Raptors a long time ago. She had mapped out detailed steps of what she needed to do to pull it off without getting killed. She just had to play her cards perfectly to win this game.
A gust of icy wind hit her face, making her shiver. Christmas was just around the corner, yet she was walking right into the jaws of death, doing everything in her power to avoid it. As far as she knew, no one had ever left the organization alive, but she intended to be the first. She had to. She needed to. It was the only way she could ever be with the man she loved.
Later that night, Ceres arrived at their headquarters in Carmen City—also known as the City of Gold due to its massive gold-mining operations. The mayor of the city, who double-blinded as the mining developer, was also the head of the Raptors. He hid the organization so well that no one in the public suspected a thing.
Because the city was so wealthy, it was also home to a glittering array of casinos, clubs, and resorts. One of these high-end resorts served as the perfect cover for their HQ: Ocean Magic. Being a bustling resort, anyone coming and going was assumed to be just another tourist or wealthy guest.
Ceres walked inside, pulling her suitcase behind her, and approached the receptionist. After conversing for a minute, she slipped her VIP card across the counter. To a normal person's eye, the card looked identical to the ones given to standard VIP guests. Only the specially trained receptionists knew the hidden differences embedded in Ceres's card.
"Good to go?"
"Yes, ma'am. Please, come this way." The receptionist led her toward the west wing of the resort and pressed the button for the VIP elevator. While any high-profile guest could use this lift, members of the Raptors always departed on the seventh floor. The sixth floor was reserved exclusively for the mayor, and the eighth floor was an elite playroom for guests. The seventh floor remained fully booked all year round, and no one ever questioned it.
Ceres stepped out, pulling her suitcase silently, moving like a cat taking a stroll across its master's lawn. The security guards bowed their heads slightly as she passed. Reaching the end of the hallway, she turned left and took a set of stairs leading down to a secured back room on the sixth floor.
She finally arrived at a heavy door engraved with an owl and an eagle—symbols that looked entirely out of place for the tropical aesthetic of Ocean Magic. Tapping her card against the scanner, the lock clicked softly, a sound barely audible in the deafening silence of the corridor.
Pushing the door open, she was met by two bouncers. Without complaint, she followed protocol and stripped, waiting calmly while they thoroughly swept her clothes for hidden weapons.
"Clear," one of the bouncers mumbled, handing her wardrobe back.
Ceres dressed as if it were nothing. The moment she finished, the heavy metal door in front of her slid slowly into the wall, and a sudden blast of noise from the crowd inside nearly startled her.
"Ceres is here!"
"Ceres is back!"
"I wonder how many bounty points she racked up this time."
"I heard she was assigned to take out a presidential candidate in Country M."
"I joined the organization because of her a year ago, and this is the first time I've ever seen her in person!"
"My Queen!"
From a distance, Xhylan watched the clamor his best friend caused and took a slow sip of his wine. He had already done everything in his power to warn her. Now, he could only hope she could deliver on her end of the bargain to keep her head on her shoulders.
"Ceres. My adored queen. How have you been?"
Marcus—the third-ranked assassin in the organization, who had openly expressed his unrequited love for her for ten years—walked excitedly toward her. Ceres walked right past him.
"Snobbish as always," Marcus muttered with a grin. "That's exactly what I love about you."
"Shut up, Marcus. I'm not in the mood."
Xhylan watched his best friend march straight toward the podium, where a thick, opaque curtain separated the main room from the middle-aged man behind it. Xhylan was one of the top ten assassins who enjoyed the privilege of knowing the boss's identity; to everyone else below the top ten, the man behind the curtain was a total mystery.
"Good evening, sir," Ceres greeted, setting her luggage down. "I've already transmitted the confirmation of my mission's completion."
The man spoke, his voice modulated so it could only be heard by Ceres standing directly in front of the curtain. "I received the report. I didn't think I would see you back here for another two years."
"I had a change of plans."
"And what might that be?"
"I'm quitting."