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A thin veil of rain cloaked the city, blurring the lights of the towering skyscrapers into a haze of colors.
Kaito Takumi perched atop a high-rise building, his black tactical gear blending seamlessly with the darkness. In his hand, a suppressed pistol gleamed faintly under the moonlight. Below, his target's car entered the secure underground garage, its polished surface reflecting the faint yellow of the overhead lights.
Kaito was a ghost, and his alias 'Phantom' was a title whispered in fear among those who knew of him. Trained by the government to eliminate threats with surgical precision, his kill count spanned countries, continents, and causes. He wasn't a man but a weapon, honed and deployed to silence enemies of the state.
But tonight was different.
The target—a corrupt senator—wasn't the problem. It was the presence of familiar faces, men he had once trusted, now acting as the senator's bodyguards. Kaito's sharp eyes caught the glint of their rifles as they moved with precision, securing the perimeter.
"Figures," He muttered under his breath, a cold smirk playing on his lips.
The agency had turned on him.
---
Twelve Hours Earlier
The briefing room was cold and clinical, much like the organization Kaito served.
Monitors displayed grainy images of his target, Senator Miyamoto, a man tied to human trafficking and arms smuggling.
"This mission requires absolute discretion," A stern-faced woman named Yoko, his handler, said. Her voice was devoid of emotion, as always. "In and out. No witnesses. Clean."
Kaito leaned back in his chair, feigning disinterest. "And why not let one of your rookies handle it? This seems beneath me."
"You're the only one we trust with this."
The words rang hollow.
Kaito's instincts—sharpened over a decade of assassinations—picked up the unease in her tone, the subtle way her fingers tapped against the folder she held. Something was off.
"Trust, huh?" He said, standing and draping his coat over his shoulder. "Fine. But if this is another one of your half-baked setups, don't expect me to go quietly."
---
Back in the present, Kaito adjusted the scope of his rifle. His target exited the car, flanked by the very people Kaito had once called comrades. They weren't just protecting the senator; they were waiting for him.
His earpiece crackled. "Kaito, status?"
Yoko's voice was calm, but he detected the faintest hint of tension.
"Target's in sight. So are your dogs."
A pause
"Proceed as planned."
Kaito smirked, his suspicion confirmed. "Sure. As planned."
The first shot was silent, the bullet piercing the senator's skull before his guards even registered the threat.
Chaos erupted as Kaito discarded the rifle, switching to close-quarters combat. He leaped from his vantage point, landing with feline grace on the concrete floor of the garage.
The first guard—a man named Hiro he'd once trained with—turned too late. Kaito's knife found his throat, and the guard collapsed in a heap.
"Kaito!" Another guard shouted, raising his weapon.
But Kaito was faster. A flick of his wrist sent a throwing knife spinning through the air, embedding itself in the man's chest.
"You should've stayed out of this," Kaito muttered, retrieving the knife as the guard fell.
---
He moved like a shadow, dispatching the remaining guards with ruthless efficiency. By the time he reached the stairwell, the only sound was the distant wail of approaching sirens.
"Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" He said into his earpiece.
"What are you talking about?" Yoko replied, her tone icy.
"Don't insult my intelligence. The senator was a loose end, and so am I. This wasn't about the mission—it was about tying up loose threads."
A pause
Then, her voice softened. "You were one of our best, Kaito. But you know too much."
Kaito laughed, a hollow sound that echoed in the stairwell. "And here I thought we were family."
He ripped out the earpiece and crushed it underfoot.
---
The agency had underestimated him.
Kaito wasn't just an assassin; he was a survivor.
Over the next few hours, he evaded the relentless pursuit of his former comrades, using every trick he'd learned to stay one step ahead.
In a dimly lit safe house, he stitched up a bullet wound on his arm, his mind racing. The agency would stop at nothing to eliminate him, but he wasn't going down without a fight.
His laptop hummed to life as he uploaded files—evidence of the agency's corruption, their secret dealings, and the innocent lives they'd destroyed.
"Let's see how you like the spotlight," He muttered, sending the files to every major news outlet in the world.
---
As dawn broke, Kaito stood atop a skyscraper, the wind whipping through his hair.
Below, a team of operatives swarmed the building, their movements coordinated and lethal.
"You've got nowhere to run, Kaito!" A voice boomed through a megaphone.
He smiled. "I'm not running."
The rooftop door burst open, and a dozen agents poured out, weapons drawn.
Kaito moved like a blur, his assassin instincts taking over. He disarmed the first agent, using his weapon to take out two others.
A smoke grenade exploded at his feet, obscuring the battlefield as he danced through the chaos.
But even he couldn't fight forever. A bullet grazed his side, another lodging itself in his leg.
He stumbled, blood pooling beneath him as the remaining agents surrounded him.
"Kaito Takumi," Yoko's voice cut through the smoke as she emerged, her gun trained on him. "It's over."
He chuckled, coughing up blood. "Not yet."
With a sudden burst of strength, Kaito charged at her, ignoring the searing pain in his body. He grabbed her weapon, twisting it away as they grappled near the edge of the rooftop.
"I trusted you," He hissed.
"And that was your mistake," She replied, shoving him back.
Kaito staggered, his foot slipping over the edge. For a brief moment, time seemed to freeze. He looked up at the sky, a faint smile on his lips.
"Maybe this is how it was always meant to end. But you are going down too!"
And then, he grabbed the corner of her outfit and pulled her along.
"You!..." Yoko was caught off-guard and before she knew it, she was falling down with him.
---
The world faded to black as Kaito's body plummeted toward the ground alongside Yoko.
But instead of the cold embrace of death, he felt a strange warmth, like sunlight piercing through a storm.
When he reopened his eyes, it wasn't the concrete jungle he saw, but a peaceful suburban neighborhood, the sound of children laughing in the distance. He blinked, his hands smaller, softer, unscarred.
"What the…?"
Kaito Takumi had died, but his story was far from over.
--- ✦ ✦ ✦ ---
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