"Don't you think," I murmured, almost thoughtfully now, "that statue over there looks…..a bit query. Kind of I feel must have been difficult to carve? If someone did—"
I stopped mid-sentence. Because the crowd shifted too suddenly.
A man shoved past, running hard enough to knock shoulders aside. Another followed close behind, shouting, "Catch him. Catch him. He stole my…..my wallet!"
The noise spiked. People turned. The current of the movement twisted, chaotic for a few seconds.
I instinctively glanced back—tracking the runners, the chase—
And when I turned forward again—my eyes couldn't see him. Theo was gone. Just...gone.
For a moment I stood there in the middle. Eyes blinked—once, twice.
"What—" I turned in a slow circle, scanning faces, shadows. "Seriously?" Did he also participate in the chase. But this was quiet unlike him.....he wasn't someone to do take actions if the things weren't related to him, neither it was his part of duty. He worked more on undercover missions.
A sharp breath left me, half disbelief, half irritated. "It's nothing more I expected from him….." I wasn't actually feeling too wring though. "Guess you brought me to my suited place," a slight mocking laugh came from my mouth, mocking myself is the only thing only I have the authority to—only I, nah would give it off for Theo too.
I clicked my tongue, was alone now in the street full of people, a new kind stranger to so many strangers. The crowd swallowed me next—voices, movements, heat pressing in from all sides.
"Great," I murmured. "At least had his look today, he also gave me this—" I gleefully bite the ice-cream now. My mind still on Theo's action. There were sure loopholes I was freely ignoring, there were things my mind spoke but heart ignored like some sidekick.
As I moved, distracted, a hand brushed past mine. Something slipped into my palm—small, rolled.
I turned—too quickly. Too sharply for a person just zoned out right now.
Faces collided into my vision—blurred, shifting, countless. Shoulders brushed past mine, voices overlapped, footsteps swallowed any traces of directions. No hesitation, no one who looked like they had just touched me.
Whoever it was— Gone.
My gaze lingered for a second longer before I looked away, a faint, almost inaudible click of my tongue slipping out.
Predictable. Still...….
My fingers tightened around the rolled chit resting in my palm. There was something about it. A quiet pull. Familiar. The kind that crept under the skin and settled there, loose deliberate—like the beginning of something wrong.
Something interesting.
I stepped out of the main current of the crowd, slipping towards the edge where noises dulled just enough to think statically. The paper felt cheap, had rough surface. Folded too tightly....just like the one's I have received before.
My lips curled without my mind having anything into.
I already knew what kind of things this would be. Not in details, but the nature of it. and that was enough to make a flicker of excitement crawl up my spine.
I unrolled it.....slowly.
A photograph stared back at me. Probably an old photo torn down unconcerned to only have the required ones in the frame. It was slightly faded, the colors dulled with time. two men stood side by side, rigid posture, their expressions fixed into something formal. Almost forced. Not quite authority—but close to mimic one.
Uniforms...not military, not even police. Something in between—surveillance, campus security, institutional enforcement. The kind of role that existed in the background, unnoticed until it mattered.
My eyes narrowed slightly. Below the image, numbers were written. 1992. 1991.
A soft breath slipped past my lips. Outdated.....which means that if they were still breathing—they wouldn't look like this anymore. Useful.
My gaze drifted lower. Current address—I read it once. Then again. A faint crease formed between my brows. The structure of it felt off. familiar, but just out of reach—like a memory refusing to surface.
Somewhere far from here—Mukaaba, maybe. I didn't dwell into it....because the next lines mattered more.
A party. Flambora. And beneath it—Zurakka.
My lips twitched. Zurakka—close enough to reach. Far enough to require intention.
Two days. Couldn't say if it flowed too immediate. Rather I sensed it palnned, something felt set deliberately.
My fingers stilled againt the paper for a brief second before I folded it halfway, committing every detail to memory without needing to stare any longer. Two men—old identities. New locations. Events, timing…..a perfect setup.
---
My phone vibrated. A short and precise one—the one I have been waiting for.
I didn't react outwardly. Just slipped it out, glancing down.
One message. No name as always, a new number...$50,000.
There it was. No greetings or explanations...just a bait prize.
A low, quiet breath escaped me, something dangerously close enough to a laugh. "Ah…."
Of course. A faint curve of my lips deepened, slow and deliberate.
I folded the chit properly this time and tucked it away—like it was nothing more than scrap, before stepping back in the moving crowd.
Theo's absence brushed the edge of my thoughts. Too clean….too convenient. He had just…vanished without any warnings.
There had always been these exact gaps—this had appeared before too.
Coincidence?
No.
I didn't believe in those. Still....I didn't stop. Because the truth is-- I didn't want to.
.....
The market swallowed me here the moment I stepped back into it.
Noise pressed in from every side—voices overlapping, metal striking metal, crated dragging across rough ground, vendors shouting prices in threats instead of offer to the night crowd forcing itself towards the station. The air was thick, humid, carrying the scent of river water, fried oil, sweat and faintly rotten beneath it all.
Flambora breath like this—loud, crowded, restless.
I moved through it without resistance, letting the current take me where it wanted. Shoulders brushed mine, hands came too close, bodies collided and separated without apology. Perfect.
No one noticed anyone. Which meant—I was no different.
My gaze drifted—unfocused, disinterested.
But my attention wasn't.
I locked quietly onto a man just ahead of me. Mid-thirties, maybe. Slightly hunched, arguing with a vendor, voice raised just enough to lose awareness of everything. A quiet well dressed man—probably doesn't belongs to this place, or maybe does….who cares.
His back pocket. Visible….was careless enough.
The outline of a wallet pressed clearly against the fabric.
I didn't slow down. Didn't rushed either. Timing mattered more than speed.
A body collided lightly into my shoulders from the side—perfect. I let the impact carry through me, using it, my hands moved with the motion, slipping behind him in the same breath.
Fingers brushed fabric. Light. Testing...no reaction. Good.
Two fingers slid into his pocket—precise, practiced, barely there. the wallet shifted. Just fraction. Pause... then—
A smooth pull. Not too fast, not forceful even. just enough.
The wallet slipped free like it had been waiting to be taken. I was already past him. No break in my steps. No glance back.
I tucked it against my side for a moment, shielding it with my body before slipping away it into my pocket with quiet ease.
Gone. Just like that.
Behind me, his voice didn't change. Still arguing. Still unaware. A faint smile ghosted across my lips. What I feel couldn't be described by satisfaction, it wasn't really....something we call acknowledgement—because it wasn't difficult.
It never was.
It was never difficult to take away money from people....and that's was exactly it had stopped being interesting. Though I still play sometimes, especially from rich people—at last it's fault to be so less thoughtless to not have distributed their money when they had so much.
I moved through the heavy road. Several people pushed against, some even did willingly. Controlling my urge to have all of them executed for their impoliteness I moved forward.
...
I was still in the hotel uniform for the workers. Here, no one seemed to recognize to have laid a second glace but it still felt awkward. I bought some clothes from this mall I came across, open at night too—probably knows its customers. Leather suited me more—just an opinion. I posed a few times in the mirror in trail room and brough a set with black jeans and boots paired. The price was bit high…..but who cares.
At last, I slipped into a restaurant that stood apart—not by luxury, but by order. Clearer tables. Softer lighting. Fewer people shouting.
Refined, by Flambora's standards.
It didn't welcomed me as roadside restaurants did back to my city but still took a seat without hesitation and ordered more than I needed.
Food came faster than I expected. I ate it slow—deliberately thinking about my after plans.
Food's taste barely registered. My whole mind was indulged in something else. That photograph didn't seem to be some normal people. Right now, if I guess right—they must be leading a wealthy life. But as I compare them to my past kills—I somehow find something different and still similar.
My previous targets all have been seemed to be I their third or fourth job. Their body nature didn't spoke for simplicity. And this one—completely gives a signal.
I hands moved to push the food in now. Eating was more like a habit to me now, more like a function rather than a will.
When the bill arrived, I didn't even glance at it. my hands dipped into my pocket, pulling out the stolen notes, placing them down with the kind of careless ease that bordered on arrogance.
Not mine.
Never mind.
I stood, leaving without a second look, the faint scrap of the chair against the floor swallowed by the low murmur of the place.
...…
Outside, the air felt thicker. Heavier.
I walked without direction. No urgency, I just need to explore this place for a bit.
And then—that slip in.... a feeling.
That feeling. Subtle—so subtle it could have been dismissed as nothing. A presence that was faint enough to been seen but grave enough to have been felt—at my back.
I didn't react immediately. Keep walking. Steady steps. Unchanged motion.
My senses stretched quietly, picking at the edge of everything around me. Footsteps. Beathing. Movements.
Nothing consistent. Nothing obvious—
Still—it stayed. Clinging persistently.
I turned, fast—too fast.
A sharp glance over my shoulder. Faces.
All I could see was strangers moving, talking, existing without care.
Nothing again. A faint smile touched my lips, thin and almost absent.
"...So you finally showed up," I murmured under my breath. Because I knew this. Knew this well. This was something I have been waiting for, but my mind always pulled me back.....but this time I would let my intrusive thoughts win—because, I am happy today....too happy to take any step out of craze.
And whatever it was—
It wasn't leaving anytime soon.