Hitman With A Badass System

The infirmary into which Michael and Gaya, along with the other victims, were brought, had an air of sterile solemnity. Its walls were lined with shelves filled with neatly labeled potions and herbs. Beds, equally spaced, filled the large room, their linens crisp and white under the soft glow of enchanted lights. The atmosphere was heavy with the scent of antiseptics and the undercurrent of magic used for healing.

As the bodies were laid out, a guard turned to his colleague, his voice low. "Leave these here for now, until the captain gives further instructions," he instructed, casting a final glance at the somber array of fallen individuals before exiting the room to attend to other duties.

The room fell into a heavy silence, the kind that speaks of finality and loss. It was in this silence that Michael stirred, his eyes snapping open with a practiced caution. Swiftly, but with care, he stood, his movements deliberate. He then moved to Gaya, gently patting her shoulder to rouse her from the potion-induced state.

Gaya's eyes flickered open, meeting Michael's with a silent question. "What's the plan now?" she whispered, her voice barely carrying in the still air of the infirmary.

"If we just leave, they'll notice the missing bodies. We need to cover our tracks... thoroughly," said Michael. "Hmm," Gaya nodded in agreement, understanding the necessity of their next actions.

Without another word, Michael summoned the dark flames as the dark flames cast an eerie darkness around them. He flicked his wrist, and the flames leaped from his hand to a nearby body. The fire spread quickly, the dark flames consuming everything with an unnatural hunger, leaving no trace behind but ash.

Amidst the burgeoning smoke and the crackling of the fire, Michael and Gaya made their move. They approached a window, glanced back one last time at the inferno they'd set to erase their presence, and then, with a swift motion, they jumped through, landing softly on the outside. Without looking back, they swiftly made their escape, blending into the shadows of Aurumvale. Outside the infirmary, the city of Aurumvale basked under the glow of the moon, its golden structures shimmering against the dark sky, creating a landscape of ethereal beauty. The tranquility of the night was abruptly shattered when the dark flames, initiated by Michael within the infirmary, began to lick at the windows, casting an ominous glow that could not be ignored.

"Fire! Fire!" The cry rang out into the night, quickly escalating into a cacophony of shouts and calls for help. Elves spilled into the streets, their expressions morphing from serene to panic-stricken as they took in the sight of the burgeoning inferno.

"Call the guards! We need to put out the fire!" yelled an elf, taking charge of the growing crowd. In no time, the sound of armored footsteps approached, the city's guards moving swiftly towards the source of the chaos.

In the midst of this sudden uproar, Michael and Gaya slipped through the gathered crowd unnoticed, their figures blending seamlessly with the distressed citizens. They moved with purpose, navigating the streets with an urgency that matched the city's alarm, all the while making their way toward the city gates.

Upon reaching the gates, they stepped outside the confines of Aurumvale's protective walls and were greeted by the expansive grasslands that lay beyond. Looking out into the expanse, Gaya voiced the question between them. "Where are we supposed to look for him?"

His gaze scanning the horizon, Michael noticed a large tree near the city wall, its silhouette distinct against the night sky. Something about its lone presence sparked an intuition within him. "Let's head towards that tree," he suggested, a certainty in his voice that left no room for doubt. "I have a feeling that's where he'll be waiting for us."

Without further discussion, the two of them began their walk toward the tree, their steps quickening with anticipation and a shared understanding of the gravity of their next encounter. As Michael and Gaya approached the designated tree, they found the assassin exactly where they expected him to be—leaning casually against the trunk, as if he had all the time in the world. The sight of him, so composed and assured, set an eerie tone for their meeting under the cover of night.

"I had a feeling you'd come through unscathed," the assassin remarked, his voice calm, betraying none of the tension that the situation warranted.

He turned his gaze to Michael, a glint of respect flickering in his eyes. "Good thinking with the flames," he added, acknowledging Michael's quick wit and resourcefulness.

Michael merely shrugged, downplaying the compliment. "No big deal," he replied, his nonchalance masking the gravity of their daring escape.

"So, where are we going?" Gaya, ever direct, cut to the chase. The assassin's response came with a slight, unexpected twist. "Normally, we don't take in the romantic partners of our assassins, but we've observed that you two work better together." His eyes shifted to Gaya as he spoke, an inscrutable smile playing on his lips. "So, we've decided to extend the invitation to you as well."

Gaya's reply was swift, her gratitude laced with sarcasm as she rolled her eyes. "Thank you," she said, the words heavy with irony.

Unperturbed, the assassin continued, "Let's head to the guild and initiate you two."

Without another word, he produced a small gem from his cloak, its surface gleaming even in the dim light. With a deliberate motion, he crushed it between his fingers. Immediately, a dark smoke billowed from the fragmented pieces, swirling around them with an intensity that seemed to defy the calm of the night.

As the smoky veil enveloped them, Michael and Gaya sensed an eerie distortion in the space around them, an unsettling sensation of being pulled through the very fabric of reality. When the smoke finally dissipated, they found themselves in a dark hall, dimly lit by sporadic torches that cast long shadows across the stone walls. It was quiet, too quiet, with not a soul in sight besides themselves and the assassin.

Gaya, her curiosity piqued by the absence of others, broke the silence. "Where are the others?" she inquired, scanning the shadowy expanse for any sign of life.

The assassin's chuckle echoed through the hall, a sound that seemed to blend with the darkness.

"We don't operate like other guilds, dear," he responded with a mysterious air. With a slight gesture, he beckoned them to follow him deeper into the hall.

As they walked, the assassin began to unveil the workings of the guild. "Every assassin here has a handler," he explained, his voice steady as he led them through the winding corridors. "The person who initiates you into the guild. Until you've completed a certain number of assignments and proven your worth, most of what the guild offers will remain beyond your reach."

Michael, recalling the assassin's earlier promise of rewards beyond gold, seized the moment to inquire further. "You mentioned joining the guild would bring more than just gold. What kind of rewards are we talking about?"

The assassin, amused by Michael's impatience, let out a soft chuckle. "Impatient, are we?" he teased before continuing. "The gem I used to teleport us here is one such reward. It can get you out of anywhere... well, most places. Imagine how useful that could be for an assassin."

His explanation shed light on the unique benefits of guild membership, highlighting the invaluable tools at their disposal—tools that could very well save their lives in the direst of circumstances.

As they continued their journey deeper into the shadowy confines of the guild's hallways, the assassin imparted more of the guild's rules and expectations. "Until you've earned your place among us, you won't meet the others," he stated matter-of-factly, guiding them past walls adorned with a macabre collection of heads and blades, each telling its own silent story of death and skill.

Gaya, intrigued by the earlier mention of an initiation, couldn't help but inquire, "What's this initiation you talked about?"

The assassin's response came with a light-hearted chuckle, tinged with a hint of darkness. "Don't worry, I'm not going to ask what Abran did," he assured them, a sly reference to their earlier encounter.

At the mention of Abran, Gaya couldn't suppress a growl, though she managed to say, "Thank you for getting rid of him."

"Don't mention it," the assassin replied coolly, his chuckle growing colder. "He made many powerful enemies. And powerful enemies often have a horde of gold coins at their disposal. Make enough ripples, and you'll eventually draw our attention."

Michael, keen to steer the conversation back to the matter at hand, pressed further. "Back to the topic, what's this initiation?"

The assassin's explanation was straightforward and devoid of any mystique. "Nothing freaky. We'll just give you a name, and you have to kill the target on our terms," he outlined simply, setting the stage for what was to come.

As they followed the assassin through the labyrinthine corridors, the air around them seemed to grow heavier, charged with an unspoken anticipation. Finally, he stopped in front of a door shrouded in darkness. With a swift motion, he pushed it open, and they stepped into a room that contrasted starkly with the dimly lit hallways they had navigated.

The center of the room was dominated by a small pillar, atop which sat a glass box. Within the box, Michael and Gaya could see several wooden strips, each presumably carrying the weight of a name, a life soon to be targeted. The assassin beckoned them closer with a gesture that held an eerie formality.

"I will pick a name from this list of targets," the assassin announced, his voice carrying a hint of excitement, "and you will get to do the fun part, killing."

With deliberate slowness, he lifted the lid of the glass box and reached inside. His hand moved amongst the wooden strips, teasing out the fate of one unlucky soul. Finally, he grasped one and pulled it out, his movements sure and practiced.

As he read the name silently, a smile crept across his face, the kind of smile that spoke of dark coincidences and fate's twisted sense of humor. "Seems like I picked someone you know," he chuckled, the sound echoing slightly in the sparse room.

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