A continuation of the previous book, Gray Heroics: Book 1.
Enter a unique earth packed with stories of individuals striving to push their limits and conquer whatever obstacle in life that comes at them. Magic, science, steam-punk tech, drama, superh...
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“Ooooi!! I'm back!” Hardy announces via yelling as she saunters through the extravagant mansion of a home belonging to her current employer. The platinum-blonde approaches a set of redwood double doors and grips the golden fanciful handles upon them, pulling at both simultaneously to reveal her presence to those within the office space, grinning all the while. Her escort follows behind and clears his throat as he also enters.
“Ahem. Yeah, the girly from before is back…” He softly adds awkwardly. Inside the room, four men are present - minus the addition of the sole female’s escort. Two bodyguards in identical black suits - one to the far left leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and
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the other to the right, sitting on a chair as he begins to shut & fold the newspaper he's been reading until the recent arrival. An associate, a man wearing a brown suit with pinstripe patterns and aviators with yellow lenses, sits upon one of the two comfy chairs in front of the desk. Behind that piece of expensive furniture sits the big breadwinner himself - Alexandrian Melfonny. A man within his very early 30's and unimaginable reach across various states, companies, and even political figures. His skin is of a fair complexion, his hair trimmed very short and slicked back, facial hair kept low & thin, and his physique is both slim & tall.
“Already? Don't remember gettin’ a call or message.” Alexandrian shoots the blonde a look of skepticism as he leans forward within his comfy office chair to hunch over his desk.
“Well, silly. . . As your on-the-fly errand girl, I had to make sure I went about things in the most optimal fashion possible. The less said, the better. I mean, come on. You don't want me blowing up your phone for doing the bare minimum, do you?” Hardy reasons with a cheery tone behind her words before she approaches his desk and reaches to unzip the gym bag she has hanging from her shoulder.
“So, you got them all?” Her boss questions. Soon, he's given both her answer and evidence. The mercenary of a woman retrieves nine photos and three I.D. cards from inside her bag. They're neatly organized in a way that they're separated by rubber bands, stacks of three with the identification cards placed with the related pictures. Three men, all terminated.
