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Headquarters
She was an assassin. A self-trained murderer. When all of her life she dreamt of a better one, of a life far from what she feared for, yet amongst all irony, she became one. The nightmares had been always there, as every time she closes her eyes, the echo of the tripling bullets and their muffled pleads in the other side of the room was what kept her crying in the middle of the night, under the thin sheets and the ray of moonlight in the windows.
She lost them.
She lost them so easily.
For the years living in the outskirts of Suwon district, being the most feared and highly acclaimed killer, she had felt so empty. Like a balloon, drifting onto the sky with no direction.
This was what she promised them—an exchange of their lives, she is to take the same.
Evils, wrongdoers, criminals even corrupted politicians. Lives she can't count on one hand.
Too many she had killed. Too many she had murdered. But for the cost of what?
"Any last words?" Jeongyeon hissed under the man's ear, her voice wrapped within a cold façade and the memories of her past. "Better choose between a slit on the throat or a bullet in your head. Or perhaps, I'll strangle you to death, sounds good?"
She knows this man this time. He was one of the fricking drunkards she once met at a bar, sexualizing women, looking at them like they are one of his prized possession. Jeongyeon received a call the other night, just a few words she heard—name, address, and a quite associable prize to kill him, one of the reasons she accepted the exchange. And it was only that time she started to question herself, started to doubt her job but she's here in his bedroom, strangling him under her vicious grip, in the darkness as he was still dazed of slumber.
"You don't have to do t-this." She heard him whisper, begging for his dear life. As if any of his words could change her mind any second. "Let's talk about this, shall we? Kyungwan, you don't have to—"
Jeongyeon let go of his now limped body, feeling his weight on the floor beside his bed, the echo of his gurgling voice rang the air, the sound of despair and struggle and the pool of scarlet blood caught the edges of her eyes. A slit on the throat is what she chose. She slipped on the bed, wiped the blood from the knife with the blankets splattered around.
Devoid of emotions, her mind went blank.
This is what she wants right? To avenge her family's death. Trained herself to be a killing machine. It only had dwelled on her that she's working dirt in her hands. She murders people who had sinned, who had done unimaginable things but received orders from the same people, from people who committed the same mistake.
