The neon lights of the city cast a vibrant glow over the bustling streets.

Inside the crowded bar, laughter and music filled the air.

Among the patrons, a tall, young man in his early twenties stood out. His sweet, friendly demeanor made him seem completely unthreatening.

He exchanged smiles and light-hearted banter with the patrons, blending in effortlessly.

But beneath the charming exterior, he was anything but ordinary. He was a seasoned assassin, and tonight, he had a mission.

As he approached the bar counter, he casually adjusted his jacket, his eyes scanning the room with calculated precision.

The VIP room at the back was his destination, but first, he had to clear the way.

"Hey there, mind if I join you?" he asked a group at a nearby table, flashing a charming smile.

"Sure, grab a seat!" one of the patrons replied, smiling back.

"Thanks! By the way, did you hear the one about the guy who walked into a bar? Ouch!" he joked, earning a few laughs.

As he chatted, he kept an eye on his surroundings, subtly assessing the layout and the positions of the guards.

"You guys come here often? I hear the VIP room is quite the spot," he said casually, glancing towards the guarded entrance.

"Only the big shots get in there," another patron said, rolling his eyes. "But hey, the drinks out here aren't bad either."

He chuckled, raising his glass. "Cheers to that! So, what brings you all here tonight?"

A big man nearby smiled at him and said, "The atmosphere here is beautiful. As beautiful as your face, pretty boy!"

He laughed, accustomed to receiving compliments from both women and men due to his attractive features.

He didn't mind at all.

"You're too kind," he replied with a playful wink.

Without warning, his demeanor shifted.

In a split second, he leaped into action.

With a swift, fluid motion, he grabbed a barstool and swung it with deadly accuracy, taking out the bouncer guarding the VIP entrance.

PRANGGG!!!

The loud crash drew the attention of everyone in the bar.

Chaos erupted.

He moved like a whirlwind, his strikes precise and devastating.

A thug lunged at him with a broken bottle, but he disarmed and incapacitated him with a single, fluid move, slamming him into a nearby table.

Another opponent tried to attack from behind, but he anticipated the move, spinning around and delivering a powerful kick that sent the attacker crashing into the bar.

"Hey, that's not how you say 'hello'," he quipped, flashing a grin.

A group of men rushed him, but he was ready. Using his environment to his advantage, he grabbed a bottle and smashed it over one man's head, then used the shards to fend off another.

His movements were a blend of grace and brutality, each strike perfectly executed to disable his opponents quickly and efficiently.

"Sorry, boys, but I've got a date with destiny," he chuckled as he dodged a punch and retaliated with a swift elbow to the jaw.

The patrons watched in shock as this seemingly harmless young man dismantled everyone in his path.

Within minutes, the bar was filled with groaning bodies and shattered glass. He stood amidst the wreckage, untouched and unphased.

He turned his attention to the VIP room, walking calmly towards it as if the carnage behind him was of no consequence.

Pushing open the door, he stepped inside to find his target—a wealthy businessman surrounded by bodyguards.

The businessman, startled by the sudden intrusion, stammered, "Who are you? What do you want?"

The assassin's sweet smile returned, a stark contrast to the lethal force he had just displayed.

"Blade. But people call me Angel of the death," he said calmly.

The bodyguards sprang into action, but they were no match for him. He moved with lightning speed, taking them down one by one with ruthless efficiency.

As he dispatched the last guard, he couldn't resist a quip, "You guys really need to work on your hospitality."

His target, now completely vulnerable, backed away in terror. "Please, I'll pay you anything! Just spare me!"

The assassin chuckled, shaking his head.

"Nothing personal. It's just a good business."

As the last bodyguard fell, the assassin approached the businessman, his expression turning cold.

"Your time has come," he said, drawing a sleek, silenced pistol from his jacket.

The businessman barely had time to react before the assassin pulled the trigger, ending the mission with a single, precise shot.

BANG!!!

He holstered the weapon and turned to leave, walking out of the VIP room and through the wrecked bar without a backward glance.

As he stepped back into the night, his friendly demeanor returned.

He blended into the crowd once more, just another face in the city, but with a lethal secret beneath the surface.

*

When he entered his car, a young, handsome man appeared in the back seat. This man had recently become close to him.

"Blade," the man greeted with a sly smile.

"Atlas," Blade responded, nodding in acknowledgment.

"My mission doesn't conflict with yours, does it?" Blade asked casually, removing his blood-stained shirt and replacing it with a clean white t-shirt.

Atlas stared at him with a strange expression, realization dawning on his face.

"Blade, are you sure we should be crossing paths tonight?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light, but his eyes betrayed his concern.

Blade shrugged nonchalantly, his tone still casual. "Depends. Are you in my way?"

Atlas hesitated for a moment, his mind racing. "I thought our territories were clear."

Blade smirked. "Territories can shift. Tonight, mine's here."

Blade's heart pounded.

Tonight, Atlas were not at his side.

He knew he had to act fast. As he reached for the door handle, his instincts screamed at him to run.

But before he could react, a cold, hard barrel pressed against his forehead. Blade's expression was now devoid of humor, deadly serious.

"Sorry, Blade. It's just business," Atlas whispered.

BANG!!!

The sound of the gunshot echoed through the empty alleyway.

Atlas stood, unphased, and calmly checked his watch.

Atlas didn't flinch as he watched Blade slump lifelessly in the car's body.

He calmly removed his earpiece and reported, "Time of death for Blade: 11:11."

"A beautiful number. Just like his face, Blade." He added.

Kneeling beside the body, Atlas looked at Blade's beatiful lifeless eyes, wide open in shock, and his mouth agape.

He leaned in and kissed Blade's lips softly before pulling away, savoring the last bit of warmth.

"Goodbye, my love," Atlas whispered, a tear escaping down his cheek.

He knew Blade had never suspected that Atlas, the man he loved, was his endgame.

Atlas straightened up and walked away.

*