In the heart of the dense forest, Fray stood on the gnarled branch of a towering tree, his eyes fixated on a distant cluster of figures. Over two kilometres away, their forms stood between the branches. Fray's gaze penetrated the thickness.
"First phase," Fray murmured to himself. Suddenly, his body began to expand, an ethereal aura enveloping him. As he transformed, the world around him shifted, he could see the small invisible détails around him and he could hear the incest moving from tens of meters away.
His vision sharpened, revealing the group of assassins standing amidst the twisted trees. The once indistinct figures became distinct individuals, each with a purpose etched in the darkness. Fray could now see the subtle movements and hear the hushed conversations as if he stood amongst them.
This group were the assassins who caused Zina's injury in the novel, despite having promised Fray to abandon the mission. It would be foolish for him to trust a group of killers. Fray needs to ensure that even if they won't follow him, they should drop the mission or he won't have any choice but to get rid of them.
. . .
Now without masks, Sina revealed her flawless face with blue eyes and black hair, while beside her stood Isha—a beautiful, dark-skinned girl with short, dark hair and piercing green eyes.
Excitement echoed through the air as the solution that they didn't have much hope in actually worked, bringing smiles to the faces of the once-captive children.
"Wow! The solution really worked!" A kid shouted with joy, capturing the relief in the air.
"We've got our freedom back!" Isha expressionless, mumbled unable to believe her own words.
The cheer continued, but a girl with a confused expression interrupted the jubilation.
"Yeah, but... what should we do now? I mean, we still have a mission, and..." she trailed off, uncertainty etched on her face.
"I'm sure you felt it – that man is dangerous, maybe worse than the Ayrum family. Now that we're free, we need to keep our promise and drop the mission," Sina, with a thoughtful expression, replied in a serious tone.
"I agree. We've had enough of this life," the girl responded with determination, signalling a collective desire for liberation.
"True, but there's another thing. What about that man's offer? Should we work for him?" Isha questioned, injecting a note of scepticism.
"I mean, even if we want, we can't escape this life, and working for the guy who got us out of this mess sounds like a good deal to me," Riley, a boy with brown hair and a deep scar on his forehead, chimed in.
"Can we trust him, though? What if it's just another trap?" someone else voiced the concern lingering in the room.
"Good point. But as Riley said, can we really escape this life? The Ayrum family won't just let us go; they won't let us live in peace. We need to find a strong force that can protect us," Sina said, her voice uneasy as she calculated the precarious situation they found themselves in.
Perched on the tree branch, Fray observed the group discussing their next move. He pondered, (Even though they've dropped the mission, their hesitation to follow me indicates they'll eventually split into those who accept and those who don't. That's good enough. Moreover, it seems I've made an unexpected valuable discovery in this mission.) As he thought, Fray glanced discreetly in a specific direction behind him.
. . .
The sun had long bid farewell to the sky as Fray returned to his hotel, shadows dancing in the dimly lit hallway. His room awaited, a refuge from the clandestine world he navigated. Just as he turned the key, a knock echoed, and he granted entrance with a single word.
"Enter."
The door swung open, revealing Zina, adorned in the same captivating red dress from before. Yet, frustration etched across her features, a storm brewing beneath the surface. Accusation hung in the air as she spoke, her voice slicing through the tense atmosphere.
"So you used me to meet those assassins, am I right?" Her eyes bore into him, as she said.
Fray's surprised by the stoic face he tried to explain "Yes, but I tried to save your life."
Zina, still brimming with frustration, took a step towards him, anger etched on her face. "No, you used me."
As Fray attempted to respond, she stepped toward him, leaving him confused. Before he could make sense of the situation, Zina's hands seized his waist with a fluidity that defied explanation. Then a sudden soft pressure pressed on Fray.
Her red-dressed silhouette demanded attention, determination burning in her eyes. "This time, a simple launch won't be enough." Zina rose to her tiptoes, inching closer with a grace that left Fray spellbound.
His stoic expression betrayed a hint of confusion as Zina closed the distance, their breaths mingling in the charged air. Her face, now flushed with both embarrassment and determination, cracked the facade she wore.
"You need to make it up for me," she declared, advancing further, holding him captive with all of her force.
Knock! Knock!
Just as the tension peaked, a sudden knock reverberated through the room, shattering the moment.
Zina, startled by the sudden interruption, hastily retreated, releasing Fray from her grasp. The connection between them snapped, and the room once filled with an electric charge, now hung heavy with a silence born of shock and embarrassment.
Fray, caught amid confusion, turned towards the door and uttered a hesitant "Enter." The door swung open to reveal a tall, skinny figure clad in skin-tight black attire.
"Is this not a good time?" the figure inquired, glancing between Fray and Zina.
Fray, torn between addressing the intruder and the unresolved situation with Zina, turned to her, but before he could speak, Zina's nervous voice cut through the air. "I-I will talk to you tomorrow," she stammered, making a hasty exit from the room.
"But..." Fray attempted to protest, only to be met with the swift departure of Zina. He sighed, watching her disappear before redirecting his attention to the black-clad figure.
"So, you're done following me?" Fray asked.
"So, you noticed me? Yes, I've made my decision. I want to accept your offer. If you can grant me the power to take my revenge, I will work for you," the figure declared, determination lacing his words with an icy edge.
Fray, maintaining his composure, regarded the mysterious figure with a calm gaze. "Introduce yourself?" he asked, a subtle curiosity beneath his composed exterior.
The figure reached up, slowly removing his mask to reveal a sharp face, cold brown eyes, short black hair and a stoic young visage. With a chilling voice, he introduced himself, "My name is Rin. I don't have a last name, and I'm fifteen."
(Rin? I never heard of that name in the novel. It's clear that he's very skilled, even more than Sina, who will become the strongest assassin. Did he die early, or is there a more profound secret behind this kid?)Fray, intrigued by this unexpected recruit, couldn't help but wonder about Rin's origin, as he said " My name is Fray Dalma "
As Fray exchanged introductions, Rin processed the revelation. (Dalma, from the Dalma family. I thought he was from a big family, but I didn't think he was from one of the ancient families,) Rin contemplated silently.
Fray, breaking the internal musings, said, "Rin, to accept you as a follower, you should first prove yourself. I'll have you on a mission. Wait for the others who will come to accept the offer and complete the assignment before the next morning."
. . .
Next morning...
The hotel corridors echoed with the rapid footsteps of a girl, her brown hair gathered in a tight bond swinging with each hurried stride. She reached a door, knocking urgently and calling out, "Young lady, young lady." No response. The urgency in her grew, and without hesitation, she opened the door, finding the room eerily empty.
"Could she be..." she mumbled, her thoughts lingering on the missing occupant. Swiftly, she darted in the opposite direction of the corridor until she stumbled upon an open door. Entering, she discovered Zina, hastily holding a piece of paper.
"Young lady, there's new information. It seems that the Lord of the city mansion was attacked last night, and the Lord has disappeared," the girl reported, concern etched across her face.
"I know," Zina responded calmly raising her eyes and looking to a certain corner of the room.
The girl followed Zina's gaze and, with shock in her eyes, discovered a middle-aged man clad in fancy attire sprawled unconscious on the floor. Zina, still holding the paper, turned back with a stoic expression.
In her hand, the paper held a single line: 'Let's meet again in the Old Continent.'