The people Tapper had sent the work to were diligent folks. They got the assignments done in no time. All Tapper had to do was find another assignment that Finan had done and modify the work to make it seem more original to Finan's style.
Finan was very satisfied. He had checked over the work and it had already been made so that it looked like his own work. Finan was so happy that he gave Tapper some tips.
Obviously happy at the profit, Tapper was able to sleep soundly that night.
Until his Executor bracelet woke him up.
Tapper got up and sat in front of a mirror.
Groggily rubbing his eyes, Tapper concentrated on his Executor energy wisp and activated the communication function in his bracelet.
A screen appeared on the inside of Tapper's eyes. The person who showed up was Stain.
"Echo." His former dagger teacher's cold voice entered his ears and instantly, Tapper no longer felt sleepy.
"Return home this weekend. You've got an assignment."
Tapper's heart lurched slightly when he heard. This would be considered his first official assignment. His job as an Executor was filled with danger.
But he calmly nodded and used his energy wisp to form his voice.
"Noted. What is the assignment?" He asked.
Stain paused for a bit. Then he relented. "It is not so much as an assignment. It's training that I've applied for you.
"Master is pleased that you have been following his orders to gather information. But you need more skills."
"Oh I see. What kind of training?"
"You'll see." That was Stain's way of ending the topic.
"How about the Young Master?"
"He stays at school." Then Stain ended the call.
Tapper sighed. His teacher really seemed to dislike talking.
He got into bed again but sleep was out of the question. Tapper only lay awake on his bed while thinking about Ink and questioning his life.
The weekend soon arrived. It was a damp and cloudy morning. Tapper rubbed his fingers in the air and felt restless.
'It's probably going to rain…'
Back when he was in the AlleyWays, rain was both a good and bad thing. It gave him and Ink a much better form of cover for them while 'fishing'. But at the same time, rain also made the number of 'fish' decrease dramatically.
Tapper made some food for Roman and set out a towel and raincoat. After leaving a note, he left for the Tourey Mansion on the transport platform.
Stain greeted him at the back entrance.
Together they set off in the eastern direction. Jumping from roof to roof in stealth mode was something Tapper had been taught. It wasn't hard.
Tapper soon noticed that their surroundings…
… had started to become more and more familiar.
Then he realized where they were headed.
The Market Area!
Or more precisely… the AlleyWays.
A surge of faint nervousness and excitement swept through Tapper. Even if he had suffered terribly in the AlleyWays, it was the place he had fought tooth and nail to survive in. There had to be some affection that has blossomed after living there for so long.
He recalled his memories of the sights he had not seen in a while. The slimy street roads. The moldy walls. Thugs, blood, and alcohol. The shivering orphans with hollow eyes. How would things have changed when he revisited once more?
And Ink. How was Ink doing? Where was she now?
Tapper wanted to see Ink terribly but he was with Stain. Acting recklessly could place them both in danger.
Slowly, Tapper and Stain descended deeper into the AlleyWays. Tapper had noticed that the thugs weren't so obvious anymore. It was almost as if they were timid.
No one was brawling openly.
No sounds of orphaned children scrambling for bread or blankets.
No screams of pain and death were heard at all.
There weren't even AlleyWays entrance fee collectors like the Buster George! Where had they all gone?
Tapper was baffled. He hadn't been gone for that long, did something happen? Did something change?
Then he remembered… that around the time he met Wayde… was when Wayde had just been promoted to Police department Chief! This means that all these changes… were because of Wayde's arrangements?
And Ink… What happened to Ink!?
Tapper noticed some police officers patrolling the streets.
'They're different now. They were never so… focused before…'
The police were idiots and corrupt. Losers and slow pokes. Now…
"Eek!" An dirty street child caught sight of Stain and Tapper and let out a squeak of alarm. Then he put his hands over his own mouth as if the most horrifying thing had happened.
Seeing that the two dark cloaked figures were looking at him, the child scrambled backwards in a panic, screamed and ran away.
Stain pointed at the running figure. He coldly ordered Tapper.
"Go. Bring him back here."
"Yes."
Tapper was confused. Did the Master want to catch another servant for Roman?
He chased after the runaway kid. It wasn't hard. He had lived in the AlleyWays for as long as he could remember. Any of the diversion tricks the kid had used were of no effect on him. Tight corners and precarious footholds were his life.
Tapper caught the child and brought him back to Stain.
Stain nodded in approval. "Okay. Kill him."
Tapper was shocked.
"What?
"Why? What did he do?"
Stain stared indifferently at the crying and struggling child. "It's your training. Kill him."
There were no words to describe how Tapper was feeling in that moment. He slowly turned with the speed of a rusted crane and looked at the scrawny body of the kid.
"P-please. Sob. I didn't do anything to you! I did nothing wrong! Let me live. Please! S-spare me…" he cried hoarsely.
Death was not a sight he had never seen. Tapper had watched as people lost their lives in cruel situations. He was used to it. Killing was nothing new. He had ended the lives of others to survive.
But this…
This is cold blooded murder.
The little kid around his age in front of him had neither enmity with him nor had something he needed to survive. They've got nothing to do with each other!
Seeing the hesitation in Tapper's eyes, the AlleyWays kid jerked and broke free of Tapper's grip. He made a break for it.
Alarmed, Tapper reached out. "No!"
But it was too late.
The unmoving and limp body of the kid fell to the ground from Stain's hands.
Like a lifeless rag doll.
Tapper widely stared at the sight. His hands still out but had lost all of its strength. "But… he didn't do anything… why…?"
Stain then dusted his hands and walked toward the Tapper who was on the ground. His gaze were on his stunned student.
Then a lightning fast grip tightened around Tapper's neck and lifted him high into the air! The finger locked around his throat were like flame casted iron. Hard and immovable.
Tapper gripped tightly onto the arm and struggled but his teacher was many times his strength. Stain's expression was as cold as ice.
"It was an order.
"From the Master." Stain's eyes narrowed as he said coldly.
"I knew it. You are in need of this, Echo. And this?" He pointed at the dead body.
"This is just a warning."
Stain brought Tapper close. So close that Tapper could feel his teacher's breath. But Tapper saw an endless coldness within his eyes.
"Do not disobey again."
Then Stain released Tapper. Without looking back, he turned and began to walk away.
Tapper gloomily stared at the back of his teacher as he caught his breath. When he was still being taught the dagger skills, Stain would always turn his back to him after Tapper had fallen. It looked as sharp and emotionless as ever.
"Cough. Cough."
Then, just like the time of the Executor inauguration test, a surge of coldness rapidly numbed his pain. It gradually began to spread throughout his body.
Silently, he got up and dusted himself off. He touched the bruise on his neck and shut his eyes tightly before opening them again. His gaze was cold.
With one last expressionless look at the dead kid, Tapper followed behind Stain as they moved on.
And the next kid that Tapper caught…
"Kill him."
*Crack*
He obeyed.
The second one, he no longer gave second glances.
The third one, his hands stopped shaking.
The fourth one, he stopped hesitating.
Even as they killed more and more. And Stain began to order different forms of death.
"Stab him."
"Strangle."
"Crush his heart."
"Rip out her stomach."
Tapper no longer questioned or waited. No order was disobeyed nor questioned. The coldness energy that was within Tapper became stronger and colder. Compared to last time, the difference was between a beach wave and a tidal wave. Despite the warmth of his skin, on the inside, Tapper's remaining awareness felt as if he had already reached the freezing point below a freezing point. He was barely conscious and there was nothing he could do about it. The only thing Tapper did was follow directions.
Then, it began to rain. The AlleyWays denizens came out thinking that the rain had chased away the dangers of the police… had no idea of the two killers that were hunting nearby.
***
"That's strange. Why were they just left there?"
"I don't know. Any trace of the killer?"
"None. It was raining. Whatever evidence there was is now washed away."
"Then the new surveillance? There's gotta be something right? Anything?"
"... sorry."
Slam! A table went flying as its contents flew off.
"Then what was the point of installing it, huh?! If people randomly drop dead like this! Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous! How am I supposed to explain the funding application to the chief, then?! This is a living proof of why our surveillance is getting no support.
"F*ck!
"And this is not the first time either. This is a f*cking repeat of that time…! That accursed time that… That… time…"
The speaker's voice trailed off. He grabbed the list of the names of the dead as well as their identities. He scrutinized every detail and froze.
".....Sh*t."
"What.." the other person was confused.
"Look… look at the last page of this." The voice was now shaking.
The other person took the papers and looked at the last page. He frowned.
"Hey… this looks like… when..."
Then his pupils shrank rapidly!
"Sh*t!"
Then he looked at his superior who had just flipped the table. Contrary to his anger from before, only fear was left.
"T-this can't be true! Those- those-..."
The superior nodded. He gulped. "Those people. Those killers that leave a trace but leave no trace."
"Mysterious and secretive. Cunning brutal shadows who knows no boundaries. The assassination group with next to no failures.
"The unseen. The unfeeling. The untraceable 'random' killing."
Then he shuddered. He spoke softly in a quivering voice.
"The Executors."
The subordinate shuddered. Both of them fell into a sudden silence. They looked around warily as if someone could hear them.
"What now, boss?"
"Report it but make sure it doesn't cause a commotion."
"R-report it? To whom shall I report this to, boss?"
"...."
'Boss' hesitated. The Executors were very very mysterious. They behaved like a low key terrorist group. Many people would want to hire them but they were so low key, even the police force had no information on how to contact them. If he handled this rashly, who knows who might go after him one day?
He slowly spoke.
"Make sure…" he wet his dry lips.
"Make sure… that only, and only the chief knows about this."
"Yes sir."