If your best friend were holding a gun to your head, what would your final words be?
This very scenario unfolded for a man known only by his alias, "Fable," on the night he became the world's best hitman.
It was a bloody, rainy night. Not only did translucent raindrops fall from the clouds, but the ground was soaked with red liquid—blood. The rain mingled with the blood, creating rivulets of crimson that washed over the scene of carnage.
In the middle of an abandoned area, a place often frequented by the most nefarious criminals, the silver light of the moon shone down on a man in his thirties. He knelt on the ground, surrounded by the corpses of the dozen men he had killed moments before. The blood of his victims was still fresh, and the relentless rain turned the ground into a gruesome sea of red.
"Fable, today is the day you die!" A manly voice pierced the night, drawing the moonlight's focus to another man of the same age. He wore a black coat over a white shirt, his appearance immaculate despite the chaos surrounding him. In his hand was a pistol, which he aimed directly at Fable's forehead.
Fable's eyes, cold and calculating, looked up at the man before him. This man was not just any adversary; he was his best friend, now turned executioner. The betrayal hung heavy in the air, almost tangible in its intensity.
The rain poured down relentlessly, soaking Fable's hair and clothes, the droplets mingling with the blood that stained his skin. His breaths came slow and steady, a stark contrast to the frenetic energy of the battle that had just ended. Despite the imminent danger, he maintained an eerie calm.
"Is this how it ends? Codename 'Predictor'... Fable and Predictor," Fable chuckled with a bittersweet nostalgia, the sound incongruous against the backdrop of the bloody, rain-soaked night. "We were the best duo from childhood until now—the dynamite duo. No one could decide which one of us was stronger." His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it carried the weight of their shared history. His eyes, filled with a mixture of sorrow and defiance, bore into those of his former friend, searching for a glimmer of the bond they once shared. "After everything we've been through, this is how you choose to do it?"
The man with the gun, his hand trembling slightly, tightened his grip. His face was a mask of conflicting emotions—anger, sorrow, and regret warred for dominance in his expression. "You brought this on yourself, Fable. You left me no choice."
"The code was broken the day you betrayed us all," the man snapped, his voice cracking with emotion. "You became a monster, Fable. Your strength now surpasses human limits. Even I can't predict who would win if we fought."
The rain intensified, the sound of raindrops hitting the ground mingling with the silence that followed. Fable closed his eyes for a moment, letting the rain wash over him, cleansing the blood and grime from his skin. When he opened them again, there was a steely resolve in his gaze.
"Surpassing human limits? Haven't you also surpassed human limits?" he said, his voice steady and unwavering. "If I'm a monster, then you are no different. The organization sent you to finish me and you followed their orders like a loyal dog. But after this, What will you do? They'll hunt you down too."
Predictor's finger hovered over the trigger, his hand shaking. Doubt flickered in his eyes, but his resolve soon returned. "The organization's orders are absolute. And what will I do after killing you? I'll kill myself too. There's no point in living without you, my rival."
Fable's gaze softened for a moment, a rare glimpse of vulnerability breaking through his hardened exterior. "Any last words?" Predictor asked, his voice thick with emotion.
Fable tilted his head, rolling his eyes upwards as if in deep contemplation. After a few seconds, a mischievous grin spread across his face. "Ummm..." he began, dragging out the suspense. Finally, with a voice that echoed in the silence, he said, "The last person to die is gay!"
Gay!
Gay!
Gay!
Predictor's eyes widened in shock, the absurdity of the statement piercing through the tension like a lightning bolt. For a moment, he stood there, utterly dumbfounded. The words of Fable rang in his ears, and he could feel his grip on the gun faltering. His mind raced. If he pulled the trigger, Fable would be the first to die, leaving Predictor as the last. But that doesn't mean he is gay, it was just a normal joke or figure of speech. Yet, Predictor had a complex; he took Fable's every word seriously, and Fable knew it.
Predictor's face contorted with a mix of confusion and frustration. "What the hell, Fable? You can't be serious!" he muttered, his hand trembling more violently now.
Fable's grin only widened. "Oh, but I am! You wouldn't want to be remembered as the guy who proved my point, would you?"
Predictor's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. He could almost hear the mocking laughter of an imaginary audience. The weight of Fable's ridiculous yet strangely compelling statement bore down on him. His resolve crumbled as the absurdity of the situation sank in.
Finally, with a deep, exasperated sigh, Predictor lowered the gun. "Damn you, Fable," he muttered. "
Predictor failed to kill Fable that day. Instead of ending Fable's life, he found himself unable to pull the trigger, his resolve shattered by Fable's unexpected and ridiculous final words. This moment marked the end of their legendary partnership.
As Predictor hesitated, Fable saw his chance. With a swift, decisive movement, Fable disarmed Predictor and turned the tables. The gunshot that echoed through the night came not from Predictor's hand but from Fable's. Predictor fell, his body hitting the blood-soaked ground, a look of shock and betrayal in his eyes.
The duo was no more. Predictor's death left Fable without a rival, but it also propelled him to unparalleled heights. With his greatest competition out of the picture, Fable swiftly rose to become the best hitman in the world. His name became synonymous with fear and respect in the underworld, his reputation unmatched.
....
But after that incident, Fable quit being a hitman, hid his identity, and tried to leave his violent past behind. Without even realizing it, four years had passed. Now, at thirty-five, Fable had a new life and a new job.
What kind of job? Let's talk about that later. For now, let's take a peek into Fable's current situation.
In the middle of a bustling town, there was a big house. Despite it being well past midnight, the lights in the house were still on. Inside, a man laughed heartily, his black hair slightly disheveled and his average face lit up with amusement. Who else could it be but Fable, now 35 and enjoying his life after retirement from being a hitman.
"Hahaha... How do you like this ending, you f*cking idiot heroine!" he shouted, his laughter echoing through the quiet house. Fable was engrossed in a game, a strange mix of otome and academy genres where the hero saves the world.
"Ugh... this game is shit. The story is shit, and the main character is a goody-two-shoes. But the interesting part is that it has more than three hundred endings, with over a hundred bad ones," he thought, simultaneously badmouthing and admiring the game.
His gaze landed on a cup of coffee beside him. It wasn't some third-class cheap coffee, but a high-priced luxury brew he had ordered from an upscale restaurant. He raised the cup, savoring the rich aroma, and then tentatively took a small sip. Immediately, he grimaced.
"Ahh! So bitter! I got scammed," he shouted in irritation. But like it or not, he had to make his money worthwhile. Closing his nose, he gulped down the coffee in one breath. "The coffee is shit, just like this game," he muttered, taking out his frustration on the game again.
"I have to hide my location all the time, so I had no choice but to download a game from a third-party application, and this was the only good one there, I even made my account as a female,So no one could suspect me," he grumbled. "I don't like the main character or the capture heroines, but I'm still playing this game all night, every day, because it has more than one hundred bad endings. I don't know who thought of this, but I took it as a challenge to complete all the bad endings and make the heroines and hero suffer. Hahaha!"
He was clearly addicted to this game, replaying it again and again to discover new bad endings. This time, too, his shout of triumph echoed through the house as he achieved another bad ending.
"Another one down!" Fable cheered, his grin wide and mischievous. "Take that, you goody-two-shoes hero! And you, dumb heroine, enjoy your miserable fate!" He cackled with glee, already planning his next strategy to find yet another bad ending.
Just as he celebrated his latest victory, a notification popped up on his screen. It was from the game. "A review? This shitty game wants a review?" he laughed at the naivety of the request.
His lips curled into an evil grin. "I'll definitely give you a review!" he chuckled sinisterly and started typing. "Umm... one of the best shitty, dumbest, and worthless games I've ever seen. I can complete this game even with some random character, hehehe!" He sent the message with satisfaction and immediately got up.
"Time for my job!" he said, turning towards the door. He walked out of his gaming room and headed to another room on the second floor. Reaching the door, he opened it with a bang.
Inside the room was a woman tied down with ropes, her mouth covered with a cloth to muffle her screams. Seeing her, Fable's lips curled into a sinister grin as he took out a knife from his pocket. "My new job, serial killer!"
"Mmm!... mmmbb..." The woman trembled, trying her best to scream, but the cloth muffled her cries. As Fable approached, her fear grew more intense. She prepared herself for the worst, her eyes widening in astonishment when, instead of stabbing her, he began untying her ropes. He even removed the cloth covering her mouth.
The woman was dumbfounded, unable to comprehend what was happening. "Walk, run, scream all you want! If you manage to escape from this house, I'll let you live," he said. He was playing a twisted game with her. If she escaped, she would live. If not, she would die. Of course, the whole house was filled with different traps designed to stop her.
The woman's eyes darted around, assessing her chances. Fable's eyes gleamed with excitement, eager to see how the game would unfold.
Without thinking, the woman got up and bolted towards the door, rushing down the stairs with all her might. Fable strolled outside to see how far she would go. Just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, her right leg got caught in an iron trap meant for deers. The trap clamped down with brutal force, nearly tearing her leg apart. She screamed in agony.
The unbearable pain brought her to her knees, but she knew she couldn't stop. If she stopped, she would die. Even if she had to crawl, she still wanted to live. Determined, she reached for a nearby table to use as support. But as soon as she put her weight on the table, it triggered another trap.
A heavy wooden block tied with a rope dropped from above, slamming into her abdomen. She fell to the ground again, vomiting from the impact. "I- I can't escape!" she realized, understanding that there were traps everywhere.
"That's it? You only lasted twenty seconds. That's the slowest anyone's survived in my house!" Fable mocked her as he descended the stairs, catching up to her.
Seeing her grim reaper approaching, the woman immediately bowed down, crying out loud. "Sob... sob... I don't want to die... I don't want to die!" She cried with all her might, tears flowing down her face like a river.
Fable chuckled, amused by her desperation. "I found out you were cheating on your husband with four other men. You were a bully in high school. There was even an incident where a student committed suicide because of you, among many other things," Fable said, his voice dripping with contempt. "How do you feel now that you're the one being bullied, Ms. Cheating Woman?" He chuckled at his own joke.
"I'm sorry... I want to live. I'll never do anything like that again. I'll even confess everything to my husband. Please let me live!" she sobbed, begging for her life.
"Nah, it's too late," he said coldly, twirling his knife like a pro. He placed his hand on the wall for support and was about to say something more, but his words were cut off abruptly.
Blood started pouring from his neck. "What happened? Why do I feel so warm?" he thought, confused.
As he had placed his hand on the wall, it triggered another trap—a sharp rod shot out and pierced through his body. He hadn't even had time to react.
"I set this trap four years ago, and no one ever got caught in it. As the days passed, I even forgot it existed," he thought with regret, but it was too late.
His body faltered, and he collapsed to the ground. Blood poured from his wounds, which were too deep for anyone to save him now. His breath grew heavy, and it became difficult to keep his eyelids open. He watched as the woman got up and escaped from his house.
Seeing her escape, a smile emerged on his lips as he whispered his last words, "I guess someone was right. It's really hard to defeat a cheating woman." With those final words, the greatest hitman in the world died.
-------------------------------------------------------------
First of all, I'm not disrespecting any LGBTQ+ community, It was just the joke, a joke don't take it seriously. And I'm sorry to disappoint you but The next chapter will be at least one or two weeks later.
But the good news is, I'll upload 10 to 15 chapter at once, After that you can tell me that I should continue this series or not.
Also if you have any questions just ask.