"I finished my job, Boss." I dialled Richard as I walk away from my target's house in flames.

"Come back quickly. Let's talk about something."

With confusion drowning my thoughts, I hung up on Richard, going back to my residence on foot, walking in the darkness.

•

"Where's Boss?" I asked Francesca, who's sitting on a dining chair reading a fashion magazine while blowing a bubble with a bubble gum.

"2nd floor. Don't know which room." She plainly answers, not even bothering to look at me or even tell me to quit. I expect nothing from her anyway. She might have not been in the mood.

I walked to the 2nd floor, opening all rooms. Some rooms contain some other prostitutes. This is common, as Richard has that kind of habit. Even so, Francesca is his main. Weirdly enough, there are a whole lot of other prostitutes. Something is... kind of wrong. Moreover, he wanted to talk to me about something.

The last room is the farthest room. As soon as I turned the knob, Richard is already waiting for me in the middle, two chairs in between a medium rectangular table. Two teacups are there, one is on Richard's side, and one is on the side across him.

"Lock the door." He orders. His voice echoed in the room, like he has a microphone.

I locked the door before me, and sat down on the seat presented before me, pouring myself a cup of water as I wait for Richard to say something.

"I have gathered certain prostitutes all around the city, asking them if they have seen this man around." He starts, showing me a Polaroid of the man who once ordered me to kill the Johnson family. I took the photo and studied it closer. "They said he called himself 'Marlboro', always refusing to say his real name."

I wonder what his appearance is now, considering that I have never seen him again for 4 years.

"Apparently, in an underground matter, Marlboro is actually a member of the organization that killed your parents."

I kept looking at the photo, not budging an inch, but I am still listening to Richard's every word that comes out of his mouth. Even though he's a member of that organization, weirdly enough, I'm not surprised. More like, I expected someone as shady as him will be a member anyway.

"With this information, what do you plan to do now?" He asks as he lights up a cigarette.

"What do you think I can do? I can't possibly track him down and torture him to tell information about his organization." I quickly dismissed the idea, still staring at Marlboro's picture.

"You can't track him down, but seeing as he once had contact with you 4 years ago, it's easy for you to draw him in again." He blows the smoke from his cigarette, filling the room with filthy black smoke.

"How did you know? He approached me directly." I finally set my eyes on him as my eyes are filled with confusion and curiosity. My voice is neither filled with shock nor surprise. My voice is mellow and soft. I know Richard has a higher authority, but what exactly is his limit?

"You always succeed in killing your targets, whether they're children your age, or someone much, much older, or someone who's twice as big and scary as you, or when someone is really kind to you. You kill them in cold blood. When I heard that you failed a mission where you had to kill your classmate, a fellow Johnson, I had to look it up. The first clue I had found was his black fedora hanging on your door clothes hanger. It was easy when I got his identity and a picture." Richard, although not obvious, arrogantly stated as he puffs up another smoke.

"But what can I do to draw him in?"

Richard smirks, his wide grin reaches from ear to ear. A scary smirk that I wish I haven't seen.

"Didn't I tell you already? That's easy."