One night, in San Francisco, two men stand guard infront of a large mansion. One of the men then sees someone walking towards them. The two men look closer and sees that it's a teenage boy walking towards them.

"Who the hell is that?" One of the men asks.

"I don't know. Looks like some Asian kid."the other one answers.

The young Asian man continues to walk towards the two men, causing a little concern.

"Hey! I don't know what you're doing here kid, but you better tur-"

Before the guard can finish his sentence, the young man quickly shoots the two guards in the head with a pistol with a silencer on it. He then walks over the bodies and towards the front door. At that moment two men with guns rushes at him, but the young man easily guns them both down. Another man comes from the side and punches him across the face, but the young man hits him in the throat and puts him in a headlock, shoots another guard in the head, then snaps his neck. He soon makes his way into the house, shooting four more guards. As one more guard charges at him, the young man shoots him in the leg, dropping him to a knee then kicks him in the face. He then makes his way upstairs, quickly shooting two other guards infront of the bed room door. He then slowly walks through the door to the bedroom, and sees a man in a bed with three women, sleeping.

"Excuse me ladies." The young man says.

No one wakes up, causing him to sigh.

"Wake up!" He yells.

The man and the women wake up, scared at the sight of the teenage boy aiming a gun at them.

"Get up. Get out. And put some clothes on."

As the women run out of the room, the man tries to follow but is quickly stopped.

"Not you, Michael."

Michael quickly puts his hands up in the air.

"Did Sebastian hire you?"

"That's right. And if you know that, then you know why I'm here, and you should know there's nothing you can say to make a difference." The young man replies.

Before he can pull the trigger, Michael starts to plead for his life.

"Wait! Wait! I got money. See all this? We can work something out, just give me a number."

The young man thinks for a moment.

"Two."

He then shoots Michael in the chest and then in the head. After taking a deep breath, he puts away his gun, takes a picture of the body and leaves the mansion. Later, on the young man walks into his apartment, takes off his jacket and sits down, putting his face into his hands, unsatisfied with his life. After a few hours pass, while watching a cooking show that he watches all the time, he hears a knock at his door. He goes to open it, revealing a man in his late fifties with a smile on his face.

"Hey kid." The man says.

"Hey Frank." He replies.

The two walk inside the apartment and Frank hands him an envelope.

"The money from the Rochester job cleared. One less bad guy in the world. Nice work, as usual, Jason." Frank says.

Jason sighs.

"Well, it was nothing. Getting past the guards was easy, plus the guy was in bed." Jason says.

"Then why did it take two days to finish the job?"

Jason stays silent for a moment.

"I was doing recon." Jason says, lying to Frank.

Frank soon notices something off with the young boy.

"What's the matter, kid?" Frank asks.

Jason doesn't answer for a moment, getting up and walking across the room.

"I'm fine, I think I'm just- burned out. Maybe I need a break." Jason finally answers, fixing himself a glass of water.

"Right... or, we could shake things up a little bit. You know, instead of offing a low level local prick, what do you say to a little trip out to sunny Los Angeles."

Jason smirks out of frustration.

"You came to give me another assignment." Jason says, sitting down.

"It's the Salvatore crime family. A guy by the name of Marco Salvatore needs someone outside the family to handle something personal. It's great money. It'll get us a lot closer to... one day... hang it all up." Frank says.

"And when do you think that'll be? I've been killing people since I was eight years old, I'm getting real sick of-"

Frank ignores Jason's question, cutting him off as he walks towards the door.

"The plane for LA leaves in four hours. Don't be late." Frank says as he leaves the apartment.

While Jason is alone with his own thoughts, he starts thinking about the bodies he's dropped since before he even hit puberty. The screams, the begging, the sound of a bullet colliding with their skull, all of it echoes through his mind. Now- he has to go to LA to do it all over again. He then catches glimpses of his mother's kind smile, unable to remember anything else about her or anything from before he was taken in by Frank. The next day, in Los Angeles, Jason and Frank approach a large stilt mansion where four men are waiting outside for them. One very skinny man soon walks outside, greeting them with a smile.

"Frank, my friend. Welcome to LA, I trust the flight was good." He says.

"Actually it was kinda shit, thank you for asking." Jason replies.

Frank laughs it off.

"The kids just joking. The flight was fine, thank you." Frank answers.

The skinny man laughs.

"You're funny kid, I can already tell we're gonna get along nicely. I'm Richard Salvatore." He says.

As Jason gives him a fake smile, one of the other men(muscular, with a neck tattoo) steps forward, laughing.

"Hang on, this kid is gonna do the job for us? Yeah, I don't think so." He says while still laughing.

Jason smirks.

"Well something tells me they don't pay you to do the thinking." Jason says.

The big man's laughter immediately stops as he gets angry at the boys comment.

"The fuck you say to me, you little shit?" He says, walking towards Jason.

Richard quickly stops his big friend from moving any closer to Jason, trying to de-escalate the situation.

"The set on this one, huh? Pops gonna love you. Come on, I'll show you to him." Richard says.

As Richard, Jason, and Frank walk inside the house, the large man stares Jason down as the young man continues to smirk at him.

"Could I get you guys anything to drink? Maybe a beer? Or maybe juice for the kid? Haha, I'm just screwing around, look at his face." Richard says.

Frank chuckles, nudging Jason who fake smiles at the joke.

"Hilarious." Jason replies.

"So, I hope you don't mind that we do this outside, my little sister, Amy, and her friends are watching cartoons or some shit in the living room." Richard explains.

As they walk through the living room, the group of little girls all light up when they see Jason.

"Oh my God, he is so cute." Amy Salvatore says.

"So cute." Another girl says.

"So freaking cute." A third girl says.

"Very cute." The maid adds, looking Jason up and down.

As Jason feels awkward, Richard puts his arm around him while laughing.

"Look at this one, the lady killer, huh? Come on, let's go meet pop." He says as they walk to the backyard.

They then see Marco Salvatore, staring off into the distance while smoking a cigar. He soon turns around and sees Richard with Jason and Frank.

"Mr. Frank, good to finally meet you person. And this must be the young hit man. You know, I was ten years old when I first killed someone." Marco says with a smile.

"It was my uncle Marty. Wish I got to meet him." Richard whispers to Jason.

"So, who do you want me to kill, and how much are you going to pay us?" Jason says.

Marco laughs.

"Straight to business, I like that."

The mafia boss then pulls up a picture on his phone.

"His name is Brian Miller. He's a highschool teacher at Hamilton High School." Marco says.

Jason is confused.

"Wait a minute, just so we're clear, you want me to kill a highschool teacher?" Jason asks.

Marco and Richard looks at Jason for a moment.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Marco asks.

Jason stays silent for a moment, knowing deep down that the answer is yes but also knowing that he can't refuse this job. Before he can answer, Frank steps infront of him.

"Of course it's not a problem. Not a problem at all." Frank says.

"Yeah, no problem. I was just expecting something else, like a mafia member or something." Jason adds.

"That asshole, has been sleeping with my wife for three months. I will pay you whatever you want. I just want him dead."

Jason stays silent for a moment, still not feeling right about killing a, somewhat, innocent guy.

"It'll be done in a couple of days."