Chapter Text
There was something wrong with Grian, Joel thought.
Now, Joel wasn’t talking about a little joke or a quirk Grian had. No, something was seriously wrong.
It had been close to a year since Joel last saw Grian; Grian said that he was moving out of town after university ended. He promised Joel that they’d keep in touch. But months had passed and Joel had sent out so many texts, but they weren’t even seen. And it was rather disappointing. Joel had just started to get along with Grian, the two of them ending up in fun, risky, death-defying situations, most of which nearly got them kicked out, but! It was all high-risk, high-reward, with the reward being some well-earned quality time with Grian.
But then he disappeared.
Joel thought he was being ghosted at first. Maybe he did something wrong or Grian had grown tired of him. But it quickly became more serious than that: missing person posters were put up but they were mysteriously torn down as soon as they were put up. And Grian didn’t change his phone number; when somebody called, his custom message would come up. So what happened?
Joel hadn't heard from Grian’s parents, either. Did they decide to just cut everyone out of their lives and disappear off the face of the Earth? Something was wrong, and Joel was determined to get to the bottom of it.
But his life took a drastically different turn before he could.
… Okay, his life didn’t change right away, he was jumping the gun a little bit.
After he graduated, Joel took his time to get settled. He moved to a different city and it didn’t take long for him to get settled down. Joel was quick to adapt to new situations, which was something he was proud about. He unpacked most of his belongings, though he kept the boxes should he feel the need to move again, got a decent job, and found himself enjoying the calm city life. For now, he was working at a flower shop and it was nice: good pay, customers were usually quite patient, and the atmosphere was nice. Thank goodness he wasn’t allergic to the flowers, otherwise that’d be quite embarrassing.
It wasn’t anything like the days he spent, sneaking out with Grian and performing daredevil stunts. But at least Joel was moving on.
One day, while walking home from his shift, an interesting advertisement pinned to a tree catches his eye.
It was black with a large red font, which was akin to dripping paint or… Blood? Weird that Joel’s mind went to something violent but maybe that was the purpose. Joel removes the advertisement from the tree and reads it. “Hiring assassins, experienced or amateur. Receive authentic training and generous pay.” At the bottom, there was an address, phone number, and an alias: Red King.
Now, Joel had to admit, it sounded rather intriguing. On one hand, it sounded more useful than going to the gym to benefit Joel’s already-toned body. But on the other hand, this could be a scam. Hell, this could be part of a scheme that actively seeks out young adults with nothing better to do with their lives. Not like Joel was one of those people. He did have better things to do with his life but this piqued his interest. High risk, high reward, right?
So, after some deep consideration, Joel put the address into his GPS, which redirected to “Red Army.” Huh. This Red King was really dedicated to the theme, it seemed.
*****
After nearly an hour of walking, Joel wished he went home first so he could actually drive there. He had gotten irritated, hearing the GPS and its boring, monotonous voice, telling him to “turn right” and “turn left.” At some point, 30 minutes after the route started, it asked “would you like a shortcut?” as though Joel hadn’t asked for the fastest destination, and he was tempted to throw his phone into the nearby dumpster. But once his phone said, “you have arrived at your destination,” Joel sighed with relief and immediately turned it off.
He didn’t realize how dark the area had become, even though the sun was still high in the sky. And he didn’t realize just how massive the place was. Not only was there a mansion surrounded with blackstone walls and gates but the front yard was incredibly spacious. Training grounds were set up, stocked with neatly assorted weapons, training dummies, and— was that a scoreboard on the side? Joel squinted to read the names and scores but he could barely make them out from where he was standing.
Joel pushed open the heavy gates and walked through the cobble pathway, up to the front entrance. He felt so tiny, standing in front of the massive, dark oak doors, and he kind of hated it. He didn’t like being indirectly called short—even though he wasn’t, thank you very much. Joel knocked on the door a few times but thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long.
A blonde man with blue eyes and a rather judgmental stare opened the door. He wore a black jumper and matching black pants, with a red and black cloak across his back. Some sort of red and white belt or flag was tied around his waist, draping down his side. His bangs were kept out of his face by a red headband. “Can I help you?”
Joel held up the advertisement, as though that explained everything. The blonde man clicked his tongue and nodded, stepping out of the way to let Joel through. Joel couldn’t contain his awe as he walked through the facility.
The man led Joel into the elevator, pressing the button leading to the top floor. Joel read the numbers listed and his jaw nearly dropped upon seeing that there were eight floors. This place really was bigger on the inside than on the outside. A quick trip to the top floor and… there was only one door on that floor. A sign was placed on the door which read “King’s Quarters.” The man knocked rhymically on the door before poking his head inside. “Someone’s here to see you regarding the advertisement, my Lord.”
My Lord? Joel nearly rolled his eyes. He understood the royalty theme but wasn’t that just a little bit overkill?
“Send him in, me hand,” a gruff voice responded. “The hand” opened the door wide for Joel to step into the office—or, quarters, whatever it was called. The blonde bowed a bit before leaving Joel and the “Red King” alone.
For a moment, Joel really thought he was talking to a king. The man sitting at the desk certainly dressed the part; he wore a golden crown with embedded rubies atop his dark brown hair, and a red fur cloak sat on his shoulders. There were a few things that ruined the image, though: the sunglasses covering his eyes (he was inside, for goodness’ sake), the red t-shirt and black suspenders, and the black jeans. Though Joel was a bit thankful for that return to reality, he was distracted by the jagged scar wrapped around the man’s throat, as though his head were chopped off but then sewn back on.
A stack of papers sat on the man’s desk, along with a name plate: Ren the King. Joel secretly hoped he didn’t have to call him “my lord.”
“Sit, sit, ah… What is your name?”
“My name’s Joel.” Joel pulled out a seat and sat down as he said his name. “And, ah… What should I call you?”
“Whatever you choose. Red King, Ren, My Lord…”
“Okay, Ren it is then!” Joel held out the advertisement for Ren to see. “I saw this advertisement in town and it caught my eye.”
“It did?” Ren propped his chin in his hands. “Do you have experience as an assassin?” Joel shook his head. “Have you ever killed anyone?” Joel shook his head again. But there’s a first for everything, he thought. “Do you have a relatively free schedule, should we need your… Assistance?”
“Free as a bird,” Joel said. “But, how will I even be trained for this? And for how long?”
“I’m glad you asked.” Ren handed Joel a paper, providing an overview of the Red Army’s training methods. “There are multiple training exercises that you’ll have to go through. Stealth, handling of weapons, your ability to fight—so on and so forth. Your progress will be monitored by us regularly and, depending on how well you perform, we’ll start giving you your targets.”
“Will I be given intel on my targets?”
Ren nodded. “Always. We don’t like our clients going into these fights empty-handed. Whatever we know about these targets, we will always share with you. As for how we get this information, well, that’s something we cannot disclose.”
Joel pursed his lips, thinking about more questions to ask. “... How much will I be getting paid?”
Ren chuckled. “Straight to point, I see. You ask the right questions. And that depends on the worth of the bounty, or the worth of the target, along with your own personal worth and skill.” He handed Joel another paper, with a dotted line to sign his name. “Before you sign or make a decision, I do want you to know that this contract is non-binding. You are free to leave us whenever you choose to.”
“Wh- you’re… You’re actually considering me?” Joel asked, voice raising an octave from his astonishment.
“Why not? You seem capable, physically and mentally strong, up for the challenge. But in addition to all that…” Ren leaned in a bit closer to Joel, voice barely above whisper level. “We are a bit desperate for clients, now. Our most talented assassin, Etho, left and now he’s become an enemy to us, especially now that he’s working for The Monopoly... We don’t have as many people as we once did thanks to him. But, don’t worry. You may be a beginner now but, soon, you’ll be an expert. I guarantee it.”
Joel skimmed through the contract, making sure to pay attention to all the terms and conditions. He didn’t want to be selling his soul to the devil for this. Though… Considering that he was choosing to become an assassin and live a life filled with riches and bloodshed, maybe he never had a soul to begin with.
Ah, well. That didn’t stop Joel from picking up a pen after thoroughly reading the contract and signing it. He gave it to Ren with a proud smile. “I look forward to working for you, Ren.”
“Likewise! Now, you’re allowed to live here if you choose to,” Ren said. “We have several rooms on the 4th, 5th and 6th floors. And whenever you’re ready, you’ll begin your training.”
Joel’s smile wavered for a bit. “Does that mean I have to go back and- and move my stuff in here?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
Joel groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I blummin’ walked all the way here,” he said, voice muffled. “I don’t think I want to walk back there.”
“No worries! You can borrow one of our cars. Usually they’re used to help our clients travel to their destination but they’re also good for moving in. I’m sure you have your license, no?”
Joel lifted his head from his hands. He really struck gold with this job, didn’t he? “Yeah, I do. Thanks, Ren. Y’know, I’m pretty glad I sought this out! Honestly, it sounds like it’ll be fun.”
Ren nodded. “The fun is part of the job, Joel. But like I said, you are free to leave if it becomes too much for you.”
Joel scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Too much for me… Like that will ever happen.”
Ren laughed heartily, reaching his hand out for Joel to shake. “You have a great attitude! You’ll fit in nicely here. Now, go into the elevator, down to the bottom floor, and me Hand will bring you down to the parking lot.”
Joel was slightly taken aback by the emphasis on “me Hand” and nothing else Ren says. What was that guy’s real name? Whatever, Joel would worry about that later, or maybe completely forget about it. Joel thanked Ren one last time and went back into the elevator.
Okay,
now
his life was beginning to take a drastic turn. But he could control the way he was steering.