It was a chilly autumn night. A bright blue moon hung from the clouds, casting a cool light over the deserted streets. 

Ein lurked in a dark alley, waiting.

[TARGET: ADRIEL BYERS. MALE, 26. SUCCESSOR OF BYERS HOLDINGS.]

Seeing "Byers Holdings" on the file was enough to make him accept the hit without a second thought. His hatred for the company was longstanding, and Adriel's reputation as a hedonistic, arrogant chairman-to-be sealed the deal.

The instructions were straightforward too. Leave the body at the scene, no cleanup. It was supposed to be the easiest of easy jobs.

Ein checked his watch. It was well past midnight. The streets had emptied, leaving only alcoholics, smokers and anxious women to pass by every once in a while.

After some waiting, an obnoxious humming echoed. "Life's a pot of honey... and I'm just a bumblebee..."

Ein leaned out of the alley slightly. There he was. Adriel Byers, staggering right into the trap. However... he looked... anything but dignified.

The poised heir from the file was nowhere in sight—here was a man that barely held it together, shirt untucked, blazer dragging, humming nonsense.

Ein waited for Adriel to wobble closer, his hand tightening around the grip of his pistol.

A strange, almost imperceptible shiver ran down his spine. Ein glanced up briefly. The clouds seemed to shift from the moon's way, intensifying the blue glow. So bright, there was no need for a lamp. 

When the target came within range, Ein pulled him into the alley and pressed the cold barrel of the gun against the back of his head.

He pulled the trigger with no hesitation. The shot was nothing more than a muffled "pfft," like the air escaping from a tire.

The heir's body slumped forward. Ein eased it down and scanned the alley to ensure no witnesses.

Ein slipped the pistol into his coat, ready to leave, when the same odd, sharp chill stopped him. He shook it off, glancing briefly over his shoulder at the lifeless form sprawled on the alley floor.

Then, a sound—a faint, low murmur, almost like a breath brushed over him.

Ein stiffened, pulse quickening, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the alley's shadowed corners. There was no one else here. And yet...

It came again, softer this time, a muffled groan, almost like the dregs of a drunken laugh.

Slowly, Ein turned back to the body, one hand instinctively reaching toward his pistol. Adriel's form lay still, eyes closed, lips parted as if frozen mid-verse of his off-kilter song. 

However, a second Adriel stood over the body, groaning and swaying in a daze. "Augh... my head..."

Ein almost tripped over an old glass bottle. His heart pounded as he watched this... ghost's expression flash between shock and despair.

Second Adriel's form shimmered faintly in the moonlight, not quite solid, but not quite transparent either.

"Aw, man, I just bought this shirt!" the ghost exclaimed, bending down to touch the blood-soaked white dress shirt. But his hand went through his body like smoke.

A dumbfounded scoff escaped Ein. That's what he was worried about?

"Huh? Huh?!" Adriel waved his hands through the dead body, trying to grasp it. Then the heir looked up at Ein, enraged. "You! Fix this!"

"Me?" Ein muttered, slapping his own face in an attempt to wake himself up. Whatever was happening, was too vivid to be a dream and too ridiculous to be the reality.

"Who else?! You're the one who killed me!" Adriel retorted, pointing an accusing finger at him.

The ghost paced around, rubbing the same spot where he was shot on the back of his head. "I was already having a crappy evening, and then you shot me! What kind of bullshit is that? I didn't even do anything!"

"What the hell is going on?" Ein muttered under his breath.

Adriel paused, shooting the hitman a glare. "Does it matter? I just need to get back inside my body!"

The ghost raised his arms, preparing to dive back into his body. He passed right through, cursing.

"Why won't it work?" he mumbled, diving over and over, each time landing with an angrier huff.

Ein leaned against the wall for support, watching the scene. Never in his years of killing people had he seen a soul pop out of a dead body. 

"This can't be real," he murmured, rubbing his eyes. "Is this some kind of prank? Am I going insane?" Ein raised a hand to his forehead and checking for a fever. 

Adriel got up, panting. "This isn't about you! Help me get back to my body! I can't die today!"

Ein furrowed his brow, a scoff escaping him. "What the hell do you want me to do? I'm not a voodoo priest." He waved, leaving. "In fact, I'll pretend I never saw this."

The ghost's eyes widened as Ein began to walk away. "Hey, hey, wait—! You can't just leave me like this!"

He rushed towards his killer, trying to grab onto his shoulder to pull him back to the scene, but his hand went right through Ein's body.

"What the—" Ein recoiled at the intruding sensation, shuddering. 

"Don't frown at me! This is your fault!" Adriel poked through his arm again, giving hitman the creeps. 

"Stop that!" Ein hissed, trying to wave him away.

"Do something about my body! What will people think of me?!" 

Ein sped up, not looking back. "Don't know, don't care."

"My body's right there!" Adriel slammed his foot on the ground, and a cold wind slammed into Ein's back. "Where am I supposed to go?"

"To hell. Or heaven," Ein muttered, raising his coat's collar. "I bet your parents bought you a spot there too."

The ghost ran after him, whining, "Man, even when I'm dead, I'm mocked! Life sucks. Afterlife sucks too! There's no peace!"

The hitman rolled his eyes, glancing back at the complaining ghost. "No peace? You probably had everything handed to you on a silver platter. Money, comfort, luxury. And you claim life sucks?"

"You think my life is all sunshine and rainbows because I'm wealthy? Sure, I can buy anything I want, but not everything's about money!" Adriel complained, waving his arm, the silver cufflink on his sleeve glinting in the moonlight.

"Mhm," Ein hummed sarcastically.

"My whole life was planned before I was even born," Adriel grumbled. "I never chose anything. I just live in a box!"

"Oh, yes, how horrible. You had a secure life plan long before before birth. Absolutely atrocious."

"Didn't you hear the part about living in a box? I've never been free in my life!" Adriel poked his hand through the hitman's back. 

Ein halted with a scoff, turning around despite himself. "Wake up, rich boy. Everyone lives in a box." He whipped the air, waving the ghost away. "The only difference is that others live in a shoebox, while you live in a mansion."

The ghost stepped back by reflex. "Hey, I'm not some fly you can just wave away!"

"Stop following me."

No matter how fast Ein walked, he couldn't outwalk Adriel, who followed him home, complaining the entire way, even on the bus.

By the time they finally reached Ein's apartment on the third floor, the heir's voice was bordering on shrill.

"Are you seriously going to leave my body back there?" he repeated for the hundredth time. "Do you know how humiliating—" 

Ein slammed the door in the ghost's face. Surprisingly, he went silent. Ein looked up at the ceiling, heaving a sigh of relief. No matter this weird... side-effect, the job was done.

He picked up his phone and shot a quick text message to his boss—contact name "Jolly Wings."

[Dinner's ready.] 2:10 AM

It was a code phrase that stood for "the job has been completed with no complications."

Before he could put his phone down, the notification lit up the screen. Two colorful icons— thumbs up emoji, grinning face emoji.

"Typical." Ein stared at the unserious response, then glanced back at the door, wondering whether the ghost left just like that.

Slowly, he opened the door just a crack.

"Oh, hey, finally! I was starting to think you died too or something—"

Ein slammed the door anew. The ghost was right where he left him, waiting like a puppy. 

He locked the door, then leaned against the wall, pondering what to do with this situation.

Had the guilt of twelve years in this ruthless line of work finally caught up to him? Enough to turn him into a schizophrenic?