The Beginning of a Long Night

Assassins came in all shapes and sizes.

Some operated solo or in small groups, like Finn and the one who'd raised her. Others worked in gangs.

The former tended to be highly skilled. The latter were nothing special individually.

Partilgar was a bunch that gathered numbers, teaming up with con artists and criminals to get their jobs done.

They had plenty of money flowing in, but even among their peers their reputation was poor.

She'd heard that aside from the cream of the crop, their members weren't much to worry about.

(If that guy was one of theirs, they're about what I expected.)

She recalled the man she'd taken down.

He'd noticed the suspicious circumstances, yet his guard had been paper-thin.

And turning his back so easily was no good either.

In a situation like that, he should have backed away while keeping his eyes forward.

(Well, makes things easier for me.)

She killed her footsteps and explored the interior.

The place smelled faintly of dust.

It clearly wasn't used on a regular basis.

But something was off. She'd opened several rooms and found no one.

She'd counted eight people entering this building while she'd been watching from outside.

Minus the one she'd just dealt with, there should still be seven more.

Then she caught a faint sound from the main hall, the one with the seating area.

She crept closer. Men's voices in conversation.

"Why'd they round up this many guys just to off three kids? I was planning to buy myself a woman."

"The client's fuming, apparently. Wants them gone as fast as possible."

"Hmph. Long as I get paid, I don't care either way."

"One of those kids supposedly sent Tona flying."

Raucous laughter erupted.

She timed it perfectly, slipping through the door into the hall under cover of the noise.

"Getting beat by a kid, the old man's finally lost it."

"If Tona had finished the job, we wouldn't have needed to gather at all."

"No kidding. So was this kid a boy or a girl?"

"A girl, they said."

"Then maybe we have some fun before we kill her."

She closed the distance while listening to their chatter.

The conversation was drivel.

Men in the underworld tended to be this vulgar.

Maybe because they felt no need to hide their desires.

She'd been on the receiving end of leering looks from fellow professionals she'd worked with.

That time, she'd broken the man's leg under cover of chaos.

The two men were engrossed in their conversation, pouring drinks into their glasses.

Once close enough, she drew a small iron ball from her vest.

She hurled it at the man on the right with everything she had.

Simultaneously, she leaped silently.

The iron ball struck the man's nape at speed, reaping his consciousness in an instant.

His head slammed into the table, and he went still.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

The other man called out in alarm at his companion's sudden collapse, but there was no reply.

"Is that… an iron ball?"

He reached for the iron ball embedded in his partner's nape.

Before his fingers could close around it, Finn was already there.

She kicked the second man square in the head.

"Tch."

But the man managed to block just in time.

The impact felt shallow.

"Who's there?!"

The man pulled a nearby light toward himself with his right hand and pointed it her way.

"A kid…? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Tying up one of your own hands? Are you stupid?"

She closed the distance in a flash and slipped inside his guard.

The man tried to grab her with his free left hand, but Finn was faster, launching a kick straight up at his skull.

Her heel connected cleanly with his jaw.

"Guh—"

The man crumpled to the floor, scrambling backward.

His brain had been rattled; his hands were trembling.

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, the inside cut from the impact.

He clutched his jaw with his right hand, wincing.

"Wh-who are you?"

"Like I'd answer that. More importantly, where are the rest of your friends?"

She'd made her way through most of the rooms. This hall was the last place she hadn't checked.

But the number of people she'd taken down clearly didn't match the number she'd seen enter.

There had to be something else in this building.

"You little— You think you can pull this and walk away? We're—"

"Partilgar. Bottom-rung, at that."

Naming his organization made the man flinch.

"How do you know that…? You're one of us, aren't you?"

"Doesn't matter. Stop wasting my time and talk."

She retrieved her iron ball from the unconscious man and advanced on the one slumped on the floor.

His words were defiant, but his fear was plain as day.

"S-stop. What are you gonna do?"

"Talk fast and I'll put you to sleep nice and gentle."

Unfortunately, that line had never once gotten someone to crack.

The man tried to scoot backward, but the counter stopped him short.

He still couldn't stand.

She shoved the iron ball into the man's mouth.

"I'd recommend talking sooner rather than later. Before you run out of teeth."

"Shh-shtop ih."

She punched the man's cheek with her right hand.

The impact sent the iron ball ricocheting around the inside of his mouth.

Twice, three times, and several white teeth went flying.

At this rate, he'd never eat a steak again.

"Ready to talk?"

She stopped hitting him and asked.

The man was on the verge of tears, nodding desperately.

"Where are the others?"

He pointed a trembling right hand at the shelf behind the counter where the bottles were stored.

"Y-you can get to the basement from there…"

"A basement. Well, figures. Not many other options."

She said that, then shifted back into a striking stance.

The man remembered the pain from moments ago and began to shake.

"H-hii— Why?"

"Do you know who hired you?"

"I-I don't know."

She swung her fist immediately.

She didn't connect.

The man had already fainted from sheer terror.

She bound the two men with practiced efficiency and left them on the floor.

She retrieved her iron ball, poured whiskey into a glass, and washed it off with that.

It looked clean enough, but she picked it up with obvious distaste.

"Still feels dirty."

Muttering that, she went to examine the shelf the man had pointed to.

She pulled the bottles out and rapped on the back. The hollow echo was unmistakable.

If it had been a lie, she'd planned to come back and take care of his remaining teeth too, but it seemed he'd told the truth.

"Lucky you. With what you've got left, you can still manage solid food."

Not that he could hear her.

She moved the shelf aside, revealing a staircase leading underground.

Warm air wafted up from below.

The night had only just begun. It was going to be a long one, she thought.