My meeting with Hex Goodwin was disastrous. It almost made me think how deceptive the profile I got from the informants. They have been popular in the under. I looked at the paper again:
Hex Goodwin. Age: 20
190cm tall.
Born in Sharron, a municipal town located near the shores of Teop.
Record: No Criminal Records.
Bio: Born in Sharron, he lived with his parents until the age of nineteen. Normal, quiet, polite, and had no history of violence. Is low-key enough that he did not attract attention. Had a history of being abused as a child. Does not get along with his parents, too distant, and certainly average. Enrolled in the Academy on June 5, has a scholarship, currently studying as a Tech student. Proficient in handling technology.
His story did not add up. Normal, quiet, and polite was something you would not describe him. It was too unbelievable to think that someone like him was a normal person. He had a stare that looked like he is always lost. He is paranoid. Does not like dallying and certainly not a patient man.
He was too unwilling to calm down. He had no remorse in pointing his gun at me. Had I actually provoke him, He would have shot dead in that café. Thought I would ask him about the man who had seen punching werewolves. Would not cooperate. Would have killed me if I pushed him further.
Not to mention that his behavior was chaotic. Does not add up that a normal person would have that much of a mental state. Surveyed him before confronting him directly. He was acting normally. He did not act like a person with sociopathic tendencies. He studied diligently that I almost thought he spared me out of kindness. I was wrong. He was paranoid enough to arm himself to the teeth. I could tell that his carrying multiple weapons. He probably had a wrist-mounted pistol. His legs had a heavy stomp. Even if I disarmed him, he had produced something out of his pockets.
He is proficient in hand-to-hand combat. Learned that the hard way. His reason for entering the Under-Society, and him knowing the passphrase was odd. He had a mountain climber's build. His grip strength was strong enough to pain my hands. His bio did not make sense. This could be the wrong information. Informants do not give falsehoods unless a direct lord wants it. He is a student with no background. He had no backing.
I took my eyes away from the paper. The air inside my room was dusty. The walls are thick. The blinds tightly shut that it was impossible for the moonlight to get in. The light bulb was keeping the room lit. I reclined and folded my arms. The document that had his bio was something I got in exchange for some money. I had not taken a job in hopes that I will find the bastard. He was too easy to find. Too easy that it was anti-climactic.
I had been in this job for years. I was undetected and those who knew me would not even catch a glimpse of my shadow. I had my failures but I still win in the end. That confidence was shattered when I met Hex Goodwin. The worst part was that Hex Goodwin spared me. That alone was a blunder to my confidence.
I was not a sad case. I had been in this profession ever since I was a child. An orphan who somehow found her way into killing people rather than sell her body for money. Along the way, I became cold-hearted enough to ignore the people that I killed. I had experienced near deaths. I had felt death's scythe touch my neck far too many times. So it was a surprise that I was spared. I thought that I picked the wrong fight. That my last sight would be the figure of Hex Goodwin squeezing the trigger of his pistol.
I am alive. Many thought that I was dead. Only the informants – who are now dead – were the only that know that I was still alive and breathing. The Under-Society had been chaotic. My enemies are long dead. I had managed to get away, knowing, that I had died by the hand of Hex Goodwin.
Alone in my room that I barely take a rest on. I opened my blinds and turned my attention to the apartment not far from mine. It was the apartment of Hex Goodwin. He always closes his window but this time he opened it. His eyes focused on the papers on his desk.
It was odd that we would be in the same apartment block. In this time of the day, I would be in the Under-Society, mingling with anyone that might bring coin in my pouches. I had lived here for long that I have not even bothered to look at the neighbor that would be the person to strike a bit of my confidence. He is the same age as me. While he was focusing on studying. I was doing nothing but killing for the sake of money. There was nothing more precious to me other than money. However, if there is a time that I would be struck down again, and he is not that person. Would I stay alive? I am still young. I know that my skills are up to part with the best that the under-society can offer.
Nevertheless, this experience had made me think otherwise. The illusion of being invincible was broken. The anger that should have consumed me, strangely, slowly dissipated out of my mind. I guess he would be that mad if I decided to ruin that peace of his. The way he looked like was a man who was cornered. Despite his attitude towards me. His irrational behavior was something I could understand. I may be a killer for hire. I'm may be a good for nothing who had killed for a living. However, I do not kill discriminately.
The bed was smooth. There is dust all around my room. I took the chance to clear my room of it. I went to the proprietor and knocked on her door. She gave me a broom after I told her my predicament. "You're looking...happier. Is there something wrong?" It sounded rude so I ignored it.
I cleaned my room. I adjusted the bed near the window. I cleared all the trash that piled up. I scrubbed my desk. I had an affiliate scholarship that someone handed to me. He gave it as a passing jest. Who knew that a passing jest would be something helpful?
//
It was morning. I took a bath. I was sweaty from cleaning. I should be ready to head into the under-society, but I decided to quit so I went to the street. There is a bakery where they sell those cookies. I bought some and took them back to my room. When I entered my room, there was a barrel of a gun pointed at my head.
"Why the fuck are you living next to my apartment?"
"You look surprised," I told him. "I lived here you know?"
"I can tell that. Move out," he said irritated.
"Are you dumb?" I replied to him. "There's no way I have that money."
"Would rather have your brains splattered on the wall?"
"I have no money. Besides, I quit. I don't want to be a killer again."
"Bullshit. Don't tell me you got an epiphany or some sort of sudden guilt."
"Nothing like that. I just do not want to continue. You ruined my perfect record."
"You are a sick bastard."
"Same as you. How did you hide your callousness for so long?"
"None of your fucking business."
I shut my mouth with my hands raised. His finger was on the trigger. If he wants to, he can end my life here. It will ruin his life as well. I like to believe that he will not kill me for now.
"Listen," he said grinding his teeth. "If you leave me alone. I will leave you alone. Is that a deal?"
"It is a deal. Look. I know you were an asshole to me. If you let me punch you in the face for being an asshole. Then I'll forget about your asshole attitude to me."
"Look here. You attacked me first. I defended myself. Shouldn't YOU be apologizing about what you did to me?"
"Fine. No punching then. Can you lower your pistol?" I asked.
"One last thing. Tell me your name."
"Is that really necessary?"
"Want me to call you Botan?"
"You know what. I will tell you. My name is Franziska Aden. Yours?"
"Hex Goodwin."
"Nice to meet you as well, Hex. So...can you lift your pistol away from my head?"
I looked at him. He snorted. He holstered. "You really are so irritating."
"Can you blame me?"
"No. Eh, why not eat some cookies?"
"Is that from the bakery down there?"
"Yeah. They taste nice."
He sat in the carpet. Nibbling on the cookie. "Doesn't make sense that a hardened killer would suddenly retire. Sounds sudden of you to retire."
"Not really. I did not have a job for months now. I was only interested in that person because maybe he will find me a job. Since you warned me then I will not be going to. I am tired. I have been doing nothing but killing everything that had good pay. Being knocked the fuck down gave me something to think about. They always call me the Devil that Drags. I do not want to do it. I am tired of dragging people down the underworld."
"Even though it pays?"
"But not for the soul. I think my luck is running out. If my luck were not running out, then you would be dead on the ditches. You were a warning sign that I needed."
"Is that so?"
"Oh please don't give me that look. I do not have a guilty conscience or a sudden urge to quit. The sad thing is that I do not even hear guilty consciences anymore. I spent too much time in that place."
He folded his arms and rested his chin in his hands. "How about your enemies? Wouldn't they be looking for you?"
"I don't think so. They think that I am dead. I do not know why but you did not leave any trace. How did you do it? I swear that they had those cameras."
"I jacked on them and erase most of the records."
"You can do that?"
"I can because I can."
"I see."
I went to bed. I took a piece of cookie and started eating as well. It was odd. We are odd. "Don't you think that this is weird? Yesterday you were fuming at me, and today you just pointed a gun on my head. Now we are eating calmly on my apartment."
"I have no idea either. I just do not want to ruin my life so I acted like that. It was a mistake of mine to visit the under-society. I want nothing to do with what is on the ground. What matters to me is what lies beyond the skies. We have two moons and two years away from our planet are habitable planets. Can you just imagine the limits?"
"I cannot. Sounds interesting though."
"I know right? Why spend your life killing when you can pursue greater goals? I want to be in the rocket building business. I want to pursue a better life other than this. I do not want to stay the same."
His words struck me as sincere. It was the first time that I heard him talk like that. It was full of ambition. His usual seething tone was gone. It was an honest wish that I did not have. I went silent. I continued nibbling on my cookie, trying to figure out what I should now that I was retired from being the devil that drags.