"Okay, target is within sights, ready to fire...," I muttered to myself, as I set the sight of my sniper rifle onto my target's head and made sure that the silencer on the tip of the gun's barrel was secure.

There's hardly any wind blowing through, and his window is wide open...perfect, there's no chance that I'll miss. I then moved my index finger over the trigger, locking my aim onto the target's head...and then pulling the trigger, firing out a bullet.

The bullet silently burst out of the barrel of the gun, rapidly slicing through the air and shooting in through the open window, before striking the back of the target's head, killing him before he even knew what was happening. There we go, mission complete, time to get out of here...is what I would say normally, but the job's not over yet.

I let out a sigh as I pulled up my backpack and unzipped it, taking out my grappling hook. This really isn't my style, but I am being paid a shitload of money for this job, so I won't half-ass it. I then fired out the grappling hook, which shot forward through the air and in through the window, before I swiftly gave it sharp tug.

As I pulled back on the wire, the anchor at the end of it abruptly halted and flew back, wedging itself into the top part of the window frame. I gave it a couple of firm tugs to make sure it was secure, before tying it around the railing of the rooftop I was on.

I then took out a pair of handlebars and put it over the wire, after giving the railing a shake to make sure it could hold my weight. Seems sturdy enough, I doubt it'll break. I gripped the handlebars firmly before leaping over the railing and off the rooftop, ziplining across towards the window.

I raised my legs as I closed in on the opening, letting one hand go off the handlebars before sliding it off the wire, letting my momentum carry me straight in through the open window.

My feet hit the carpeted floor with a quiet thud, as I looked around the living room I'd landed in. My target was laying slumped forward on the floor, blood pouring out of the bullet hole in his head and seeping into the fluffy white carpet, staining it a deep, crimson red.

Hm, there's a lot of wooden carved objects lining the shelves in this room, like figurines and buildings. They look handmade, guess this guy had a hobby that he spent a lot of time on. Well, whatever, doesn't matter anymore, he's dead. And with that done, it's time to wrap this job up.

I then unzipped my backpack and took out an object, a ceramic Cheshire cat statue. It's kinda creepy, the wide smile on its face makes me feel a bit uncomfortable...but my client wanted me to plant this here after I took out the target, so yeah.

I placed it on a stained coffee table in the middle of the room, before taking out my phone and snapping a picture of it, along with another picture of the target's corpse.

As I sent the pics to my client, I then dialed his number and put the phone up against my right ear, pulling down the cloth mask covering the lower half of my face.

"Yes, hello?"

"Hey, it's me. I've completed the job, the target has been eliminated and I've planted the statue as well. I just sent pics as proof. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like my payment," I remarked, getting straight to the point.

I haven't particularly enjoyed working with this client, I only took on this job because he offered a huge reward upon completion. Once he transfers the money he owes me into my bank account, I can be done with this.

"Let's see here...ah, here we go. Perfect, it looks like your reputation was well-earned, not bad at all. I'm impressed, that compound is highly secure, I didn't think you'd be able to break in so eas-..."

"Yeah, yeah, cut the shit...I'm not interested in your hollow flattery. Transfer the money you owe me, make it quick," I cut him off dryly.

"Are you still inside his house?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm about to leave...quit dodging the question and just make the transfer already. I don't take kindly to being scammed," I frowned, getting irritated.

This isn't the first time a client has tried to skimp out on payment...the ones that previously did so are now six feet under. Well, metaphorically speaking, anyway...I drowned one of them in a river, so he's definitely well below six feet under.

"Thank you for your service, you've been a great help. It was a pleasure working with you."

"Hey! I swear, if you're not gonna pay me, then I'll-...!" I began to snap venomously.

"You won't be doing anything. Not ever again," He interrupted with a chuckle, as a muffled beeping sound suddenly began echoing out in the room.

I quickly looked around in alarm, before my eyes widened as my gaze settled on the Cheshire cat statue...the beeping's coming from inside it, don't tell me...!

Shit!

I reacted as fast as I could, rushing towards the window and raising the handlebars towards the wire of the grappling hook-...but the next thing I knew, a deafening explosion burst out from behind me, a sharp, excruciating pain hitting my back...before abruptly fading right as the sheer pain started to overwhelm me, everything going dark...

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Huh? What's...what's going on?

I...I feel like I'm floating in a void or something, flashes of memories racing through my head. Oh, I get it, this must be my life flashing before my eyes.

Damn it...what a wretched life I led. What the hell did I do to deserve any of this, huh?

I was born with a physical deformity, I had no skin on the sides of my face, where most people have cheeks, meaning that all my teeth were fully and constantly exposed. Still, I led a mostly normal life during my first fifteen years.

I was bullied in school for the way I looked, but it wasn't anything too extreme, it wasn't much more than cruel teasing. And I received a lot of support from teachers and counselors, so my school life wasn't terrible. I was decent at sports as well, as I'd also been born with flexible joints and limbs.

I particularly excelled at gymnastics thanks to that, I even won a local competition when I was fourteen. Not long before my sixteenth birthday, I was all set to participate in a national tournament, which could potentially have resulted in a spot in the Olympics if I'd won.

But I never got the chance to try. Growing up, my parents had been loving and supportive of me...but eventually, slowly but surely, they grew colder towards me, they'd look at me with strange, unsettling expressions sometimes.

I never thought much of it at first, I just assumed that, since I was older now, it was only natural that they wouldn't be as nurturing or coddle me as much as they did when I was a kid and brushed it off. In my head, I assumed that, since I was close to the age of being a legal adult now, they were treating me as such.

But I was wrong. Painfully wrong. A month or so before I was set to compete in the national tournament, my parents took me on vacation. They were acting strange through the entire journey there, and it wasn't long before I found out why.

A couple of days into the vacation, they took me to a shady-looking building in a dangerous part of town, where they met with a group of men in a creepy bar. I didn't really understand what was going on, I loved and trusted my parents, I never even considered the possibility that they might do something to hurt me.

One of the men gave me a glass of papaya juice, a fruit that I dislike and normally would've refused, but my parents prompted me to drink it. It must have been laced with something, because I passed out without even realizing it, and when I next woke up, I was locked up in a small, musty room.

I was scared and confused, I began screaming for my parents, begging them to come find me and help me. But I got no response, until one of the men I'd seen before showed up, snapping at me to keep quiet.

I was fully panicking at that point, so to shut me up, he explained the situation, sounding amused the whole time. These men, they were a ring of human traffickers. And my parents had sold me to them, because they couldn't stand to look at my deformed face anymore.

At first, I refused to accept it. But then days passed, and as all the pieces fell into place, I realized it had to be true. My own fucking parents sold me to human traffickers, I bet they probably explained my disappearance to my school and others who knew me by claiming I went missing or got kidnapped or something. I was in utter shock despair, which soon turned into seething rage and resentment.

So, I tried to escape, and very nearly succeeded as I used the skills I'd acquired through gymnastics to make the attempt. But they caught me before I could get away, plunging me further down into despair.

However, my escape attempt did have an effect...their leader was impressed by my agility, and having initially intended on selling me off to a circus as a freak, he made me an offer instead. An offer that would ensure that I wouldn't be sold off, so long as I work for them and do as they say.

It wasn't much of a choice, neither option sounded particularly appealing...but I accepted the offer, agreeing to work for them. After a few months of training me and teaching me everything I needed to know, they sent me out on jobs for them, where I proceeded to torture, kidnap and kill people for them. It made me sick...at first, anyway.

Because once I got used to it, I...I started to enjoy it.

I found myself developing a keen interest in weapons and tools of murder, from guns and blades to toxins and poisons, they began to fascinate and intrigue me. And eventually, I came to realize that I'd earned the trust of the traffickers, it wasn't long before they stopped treating me like an errand boy and began showing me respect, thanks to the results I was achieving.

I used that to my advantage.

During a feast to celebrate a particularly profitable sale of one of their human trafficked victims, I used a special poison I'd concocted to spice up the food and drinks served at the party, while ingesting the antidote to ensure that I'd be able to eat without being affected by the poison myself.

I killed them all, ate my fill and then took over their operation. But I didn't deal in human trafficking, it didn't really appeal to me...instead, I made use of their connections and wealth to make myself into a mercenary for hire.

Well, I use the term mercenary somewhat loosely...basically, I'd take on dangerous jobs for money, I accepted most of the jobs that came my way, so long as they weren't something I was apprehensive towards or just straight up uninterested in.

Mainly, I carried out assassinations, since those were the jobs I enjoyed the most. I did plenty of other stuff too, like stealing valuable artifacts or paintings and the like, spying on specific people for clients, stealing confidential information from business rivals of clients, stuff like that. And I had a policy of only interacting with clients and potential clients online, in order to minimize risk.

I'd go through their requests on this dark web website, then communicate with them to come to an agreement over the amount of money I'd be paid if I take on their request, after which I would have them transfer half the amount before the job and the remaining half afterwards.

I didn't accept requests where I'd have to target and kill kids or genuinely innocent people who haven't ever done anything wrong, but not because of some moral code or whatever, I honestly don't care about that. It just felt like, I don't know, that's a line I maybe shouldn't cross.

Anyway, a couple of years after I killed the trafficking ring, I'd made a pretty good reputation for myself in the underworld, I was rarely ever low on money thanks to a steady influx of well-paying jobs and before long, this way of life became natural to me. Not only was I used to it, but I genuinely enjoyed it.

There was no going back to a 'normal' life after that, nor did I have any desire to do so. My parents literally sold me off, so it's not like I could've just gone back home.

I had developed a strong sense of anger, hatred and resentment towards the world, those emotions constantly raged inside me ceaselessly...and my line of work happened to be the best way I had to let off steam.

But that's all over now. I really fucked it up. I should never have accepted this last job, taking it on was a big mistake, a fatal one.

The client, he's a wealthy businessman who's even fairly well known in the underworld for the less-than-legal methods and dirty tricks he's used to lift his company up to the top of its industry.

One of his staff members contacted me through the website on the dark web, revealing that the client wanted to meet me in person to discuss the request. I refused at first, but was then informed of the reward I'd be paid upon completion, more money that I'd earned on most of previous jobs combined.

So, I reluctantly accepted the meeting, and met the client at his house. He wanted me to assassinate a competitor, a fairly new company that had been steadily gaining market share in the industry through innovative ideas and revolutionary customer service.

A simple enough request that I'd normally accept without hesitation, but the client then said that he'll pay me only after the job is complete. I turned down the request and began to leave, before he doubled the amount.

I was still on the fence, before he pointed out that, since I know where he lives, I can just come kill him and steal all his wealth if he doesn't pay me. He justified his decision by saying it'd be a waste of money if he transferred half the amount before the job and I ended up failing, adding that it's just not a smart move as a businessman.

I was still pretty reluctant, but it was too much money to ignore, so in the end, I accepted. He also gave me that Cheshire cat statue to plant in the target's house...I thought that was weird, but hey, I've gotten much weirder requests from other clients in the past, and this wasn't the first time a client asked me to leave a sort of calling card behind, so I didn't think much of it beyond that.

Yeah...I really fucked up, didn't I?

I got too greedy and paid the ultimate price...but to be fair, he offered me enough money to live a comfortable, lavish life, like, five times over. More than enough to retire and just lounge about for the rest of my life.

Well, not that I would have retired either way...like I said, I really enjoyed my line of work.

I suppose it doesn't matter anymore...after all, that bastard clearly had no intention of paying me in the first place. It's no wonder he had no problem offering such an absurd sum of money, that piece of shit.

Hm?

I...I feel strange, like everything's starting to slowly but surely fade away. So, this is what death feels like, huh? Honestly...it's not so bad, kinda peaceful.

Not that I wanted to die, just saying. I wonder, if I got another chance at life, would I do things differently? Would I be a better person?

No...no, probably not.

If I do get another chance, I'd probably be a mercenary again. But I'd be more careful next time, I'd make sure not to get too greedy. Heh, what am I even talking about?

Reincarnation, yeah, right...I mean, I wasn't killed by being hit by a truck or dying of overwork at an office job, so I doubt I qualify for an isekai ticket.

Damn it, why'd I have to die like this? Could I have prevented it somehow? Maybe I should've just thrown that stupid Cheshire cat statue in through the window. Or maybe if I'd brought along that carbon fibre shield I'd had custom-made for me, I could've blocked the explosion.

Who am I kidding? That shield was huge, there's no way I could've brought it along with me on a covert mission. And a shield isn't exactly the type of weapon you'd normally bring along on a job like that in the first place.

I guess there's no point in this line of thinking, considering ways that I could've prevented being killed...I'm fucking dead, there's no changing that.

If I'd known I was going to die, I would've used more of the many weapons in my massive collection...or maybe not, most of my jobs require me to be as covert as possible, and a lot of my weapons aren't exactly suited for that, it just wouldn't have been practical.

How utterly disappointing...and I'd only just restocked my supply of ammo as well, I spent a massive amount of money on that, what a colossal waste. Oh, looks like I've almost fully faded away now, my consciousness is slipping away fast.

Damn it, if...if only there was a way to carry my entire arsenal of weapons without weighing myself down, then maybe...

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Huh? What the...? What's going on?

I let out a groan and slowly opened my eyes as I felt strong rays of sunlight hitting my eyelids, sitting up as I covered my eyes with my hand to block the sunlight. What the...?

Where am I? None of this looks familiar.

It looks like I'm in forest or something, I'm seated on the grassy ground, by a large tree with thick roots protruding out of the ground. I don't live anywhere near any forest or areas with heavy greenery, so where the actual hell am I?

Also, my body feels kinda strange too. Wait, did I survive that explosion somehow? No, that can't be, I'm pretty sure I felt a big shard of ceramic or something piercing into my spine, and I felt a sharp pain at the back of my head before everything went dark. I should be dead...so, uh, how am I still alive?

And why does my neck feel kinda stiff and sore?

Hm? Wait...my body, it looks...smaller. And my complexion is a bit different too, I think it's a bit lighter. Hold on...no way.

Have I...have I been reincarnated? Is this a dream? Or a hallucination in the throes of death?

Ow...nope, just pinched myself, and it hurt. There's something around the sides of my teeth too, something soft and-...huh? Wait, could it be...

I then slowly reached up to my face as I held my breath, touching the sides tentatively, my eyes widening in surprise. I...I have skin on the sides of my face, I have cheeks.

So this is what it feels like to have skin over these spots, huh? Hm, gotta say, it feels a bit weird, having gotten used to all my back teeth being exposed.

More importantly...I'm alive. This is...honestly kinda surreal. Reincarnation is real, I've reincarnated into a new body, with my previous memories intact. This is so wild.

Hold on, I'm feeling something weird by the right side of my neck. I think there's something inside my collar, like a bunch of lint or maybe a bug-...hm?

I can hear footsteps approaching from up ahead...someone's coming this way...

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