𝑪𝒚𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 | 𝐑𝐁 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐲/𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐔

1. Target

Blood. Mercy. Death. Life.



This cycle happens frequently when you're a person like me. On the run frequently yet hired by the same people who want you behind bars.

Let's make this quick and simple. My name officially, is Alex M. Crafted, Secret Agent 7506. I work for AOR, short for Agency Of Robloxia.
Our company commonly works with the FBI on cases they cannot legally crack, and it usually involves mafia bosses or other crucial areas surrounding corrupt people.

I wouldn't necessarily say I'm a good guy. I'm not an assassin, I'm not evil but good? Far from it. I've had to murder those personal, clean up dirty work from my associates..
Doing the job I do has.. its upsides and downsides.

It's upsetting. always "I have a family!" or "I'm just a kid!". Usually I get the "No, I only did it because I had to!".. But the people I exterminate are bad. Horrible beings who took advantage of lives worth living, and the price to pay is their own.
.



"Welcome, Alex." I was greeted as I stepped out of the elevator. I adjusted my tie professionally and clicked my teeth as I pointed to my co-worker. "Heyy Sanna-!" I grinned before walking past.
It was a boring Monday, rainy, and I finished taking out someone the night before, so I'm hoping todays job.. Isn't as brutal.
I usually get missions daily from my boss JParty, but today when I walked in he had a rather troubled expression. JParty had the telephone cable up to his neck as he was indulged deep in conversation with probably someone from the FBI. He hung up abruptly and turned his spinny chair to face me with a despised look before inhaling and exhaling.

"I have a mission for you, Crafted, but its risky." He spoke lowly.
"How risky? What are we talking about boss?" I sat down, worried, as he opened a file cabinet next to him, turned on a dim lamp and slid me a persons file. It had 'CLASSIFIED' in all red bold letters along the crisp cardboard paper surrounding it.

'Monopoly: Big Games'
I read the file in my head as JParty read me the rundown.
'Billionaire Company - Associated closely with the son of the company, PrestonPlayz. Millionaire in his twenties.'
I blinked slowly. "Do I have to take this guy out?? What's the catch, what's hard about this?" I asked, looking up from the paper. JParty shifted his pen to the sons name and tapped it several times. "No. The assassins are attempting to murder him sometime tonight and until the FBI has enough proof to lock these people up, We need an agent to protect him." JParty sighs, turning away from me again. He puts the file back and security-locks the case file away.

"You want me to babysit someone a year younger than me?" I ask, a little dumbfounded. JParty just nodded and I sighed. "How long approximately then?" I couldn't help but ask, and JParty himself looked a bit concerned. "This one will take a while, Crafted. Are you up for this?"

I sat there and pondered softly to myself, but I couldn't let someone less prepared than myself take this job. If anyone was to go do this and deal with assassins', I'm the best fit.  The assassins of Robloxia are the same people I take out on a daily basis, doing what others could not. It wouldn't be hard taking care of a kid anyways. And so, I shook his hand accordingly. "I'm up for this. When do I start?"

"At approximately 6 hours from now, you will walk into the Galaxy Casino and-"
"THE GALAXY CASINO?!" I exclaim, dumbfounded. "That's where practically half of our Agents die every year from these damn assassins! It's dangerous-"
"I know, Crafted. Let me finish." He instructs. "Anyway- the son of the company will be on floor 23, room 280. 30 minutes after your arrival, assassins will be infiltrating and attempting to find Preston and murder him. Your job is to stay off the radar when you find and consult with him, and I will call you using a burner phone."

I softly nodded. "What if he doesn't comply?? Better question, what if the kid resists?"
"There is no what if. You'll have ten minutes before it goes to hell with those assassins, they want Preston gone."
"Gotcha.." I gulped, but refrained from any further questions.

I got up, left, and fixed myself before leaving his office. But, was stopped by his ombre voice. "Crafted." He spoke dimly, as I turned in the door frame.
"Yes sir?" I flicked my glasses down and looked back at him respectfully.

"Don't get killed."

I felt a chill run up my spine. "I'll try my best sir."

"Hell yeah you will. You're dismissed." JParty says, making another phone call.


I grabbed my glasses and re-adjusted them on my face with a slim bit of anxiety beginning to burn inside of me, like a freshly lit candle with a crappy dollar store match. This was.. gonna be a hassle.