Chapter Text
It was a silent night, or maybe that was what Cale always felt when he was going on a mission. The starry skies sparkled with glamour, and the blight air of the city gave his lungs a suffocating feeling. He took a waft from the cancer making stick in his hand, and the tobacco taste lingered on him.
Cale started coughing.
Yeah, uh, he’s not really the biggest fan of cigarettes, but who would think that a rather careless law-breaker who left the smell of a cigar lingering in the crime scene to be a sixteen-year-old?
Nobody.
That was the reason for why he’s yet to be captured, and it was also the reason why nobody would suspect Cale going out at night; they always thought that he was hanging out with his ‘friends’. Not that they could be blamed though, he always did go to a very certain bar in order to get his hit list and soak in the alcoholic odor of the drunkards for alibi.
Cale tossed the stick to the ground, grinding it softly with his shoes before picking it back up and folding it on a piece of tissue.
Sometimes he would complain over all the processes for a crime. However, he realised that if he were in their shoes he would’ve done the same thing or maybe even more. Then he would start cursing himself over why he had even chose this path as a lifestyle and wish death over a very certain someone with him came back feeling more down than ever before and would start drinking himself to sleep just to be awaken by the sight of a benign smile on his family’s butler’s face—Ron who ushered him to go to his bed to rest.
Which, due to how the white-haired man had left such a big trail in the underground world made Cale suspicious over his retirement, until he found the answer within an expressionless face that kept on staring at him while sharpening a kitchen knife.
It would have freaked him out had he not seen worse things. And the realisation that perhaps one day his butler and the kitchen chef could figure out who Cale was and what he had been doing for the past couple of years didn’t give him as much anxiety that he thought he would have.
The lights in front of him fluttered off, and Cale found himself immediately moving as though he was on autopilot. The soles of his shoes skidded to a halt just shy from the front door of the mansion.
He wondered to himself over why he wanted to knock on the front door in the hopes of his target opening the door and making his life so much more easier as Cale could kill him off in just an instant.
Yeah, that could only happen within his own dream.
He could keep on fantasizing about it though.
...not the best thing to wonder about when you’re on a rather dangerous mission to assassinate someone, but what was Cale expecting of himself?
He had already failed at being a good and nice heir to his own family; done such a poor job at school that everyone knew better than to ask him for anything, and most important of all was that he failed to be a decent human being from the tender age of eight.
His hand reached out for the windowsill, and when it swung open so easily he felt himself thinking that something was wrong.
There was no way that the security within the place that housed the Mafia King was this lax, was it?
He wondered if he should even commence the mission tonight. The sound of rustling wind that brushed past his sensitive ears made him freeze and look around the area.
It was dark. Dark like a bottomless pit that should make anyone who saw it pause in their steps to stare fixated at it. Which mostly was caused by Cale and the hijacking of the entire neighbour’s electricity in order to make his life much more easier than sneaking even if he had the ability to know and exploit all the blindspots of the mansion.
Cale felt like cursing himself for even daring to take on this mission. Had he been infected by the reckless behaviour of that bouncer who tended to curse and provoke anyone in his line of sight from the bar?
He cursed that guy’s name in his heart a hundred times, before deciding to press on with his mission.
A light and sweet metal scent he had more than often smell from his daily activities waft to Cale’s nose. He jumped in, and almost frowned at the horrible sight before him. There were the remains of what perhaps had once been a person laying on the marble ground like tiger fur.
He sniffed the air, and realised that the stench of weeks old blood emitted from everywhere. Mystified, Cale wondered if the Mafia King even realised that one is supposed to clean after their traces and not leave it open for anyone to stumble upon. Or perchance it was a new tactic to rat out people like Cale?
Still, nothing happened even as he sauntered with the echoes of his steps ringing across the halls and the dead silent that permeated along the empty rooms.
What would have been a wonderful place to live in was offset by the cold empty atmosphere and the dready smell that had invaded Cale’s nose on his first step inside the mansion.
A chandelier that hung like a myriad of stars was situated on the ceiling of the main room. It sparkled regardless of the night sky and maybe would’ve looked more lovely if it wasn’t for the small contraption connected to it that Cale saw from the corner of his eye.
The diagram of the mansion flashed in Cale’s mind, and he decided to head up to where the room that had been labeled in chicken scratch as the ‘Office’ was.
Maybe he had kept that piece of paper in his pocket, but who cares?
The wooden door stood innocently as his last obstacle. The coagulated smell of metal had already faded away and in place of it was the scent of gunpowder and armory that a Mafia King should be fully stocked in.
There was a slight hesitation in his steps as Cale neared the door. Maybe a trap laid just behind the door, which would explode in Cale’s face as soon as he opened it.
Or maybe that was just his own imagination playing him.
Cale pushed the door open and was greeted by the backside of an office chair that had a light tuff of blond hair just peeking at it.
“So,” A smooth voice sounded. The office chair spinned around and revealed the Mafia King who gave a smile so distinct that it almost burned Cale’s eyes when he rested his gaze upon it. “You must be the assassin who shut off the lights?”
He looked familiar, but Cale didn’t enjoy giving names and figuring out the life of his targets. So he stayed silent.
“You look young,” The Mafia King continued, “and, how should I put it...” He tapped the desk and the sound echoed, “familiar?”
The blond chuckled, “Really, you picked the best day to try to assassinate me.” He stood up and walked to the wide window just behind the chair. The pale moonlight glow revealed his features, and Cale almost let his expression change. “All my subordinates are off to take a break, I was busy with my own homework for tomorrow. And then the lights went off.” He turned to look at Cale, “Right, Cale Henituse?”
Cale stayed silent. And Alberu The Mafia King sighed in disappointment, “Here I thought that you were another depressed teen who hadn't figured out the joy of living your life. But I was wrong.”
He gave a low laugh while turning to look at the outside once more, “Well, finish your mission then? I wouldn’t want all your hard work to come to a waste.”
Cale opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it again.
The sweet scent of blood filled the air once more, and he felt something faint within him shatter to smithereens. Then finally, he moved and grasped the weapon hidden in his self and—