Medusa | Novella

|2|

My code name is Medusa.

I might not be the greatest assassin on the Grand Line, but I was damn close. As I left the casino that night, my once-brown hair turned white, and my vivid green eyes faded to a more ordinary hazel. I removed the veil, slicing off the ridiculous gold coins hanging from my hips. A carriage was waiting for me outside, sent by the organisation to take me back to headquarters, where I would file my report before finally leaving this country. 

The moment I got into the carriage, I pulled off the bracelet and changed into my usual clothes. Most assassins liked to wear black, and I was no different. I replaced the skimpy top with a plain tunic and threw on a vest over it. Buckling my baldrics, I slipped into tighter pants—far better than the loose, impractical ones they'd made me wear. At least now my body felt properly held together, and running, if necessary, would be easier.

"Was the mission easy this time, Mrs. M?" the driver, Fredrick, asked from the front.

"Naturally, Fredrick. Did you ever doubt my skills?" I replied, finally relaxing into the soft carriage seats, folding my arms as I settled in for the long ride.

"Ah, well, you threw quite the tantrum before leaving, so I was a bit worried," he said, amusement in his voice.

I coughed, embarrassed. It was true—I hadn't wanted to take the mission. But Sinclaire had insisted. Part of me still thought he held a grudge against me for handing in my resignation. Why else would he assign me such a humiliating task, surrounded by insufferable people? Couldn't he have given me a nice, straightforward government assassination? Or even a king? But no, it had to be a random duchess in some random casino at the far end of the Grand Line.

"If you were in my shoes, would you be happy?" I asked, trying to regain some dignity. Fedrick was my companion, after all. He'd heard me complain the entire way here. But it was Fedrick—an assassin's assistant was raised alongside their assassin, so the bond ran deep. Some even settled down together, given how hard it was to find a lover in this line of work.

"Ah, well, Mrs. M... I do think you overreacted a bit. It's only three islands away."

"Three islands, Fredrick! Three!" Okay, so maybe it wasn't the other end of the Grand Line, and maybe I was the closest assassin available, but still. "Once this is all over, we'll finally be able to retire in peace," I added, feeling a bit more hopeful. "You can find a nice woman to settle down with, have a few kids, and live a peaceful life. And I can finally travel the world without being tied to this stupid organisation."

I heard Fedrick laugh softly from the front. "Well, about that, Miss..."

My heart sank as I frowned, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

 ⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

I knew HQ hated seeing me coming. Among all the assassins, I was the absolute worst to assign missions to—because I complained about everything. And for good reason! I was a firm believer in workers' rights, and yet here I was, staring down another mission lined up for me as if I hadn't already submitted my two weeks' notice. Missions took a month on average—a month! What kind of bullshit was that?

The receptionist barely looked up as I stomped past, though Fredrick stopped to greet her politely, as always. She smiled at him wearily, well aware of the storm brewing behind me. As if I was the one being unreasonable!

Without breaking stride, I headed straight for the elevator—only to see the doors close in front of me. I just knew it was that smug Sinclaire. His office was on the top floor of this seven-story building. Did he really expect me to believe this was a coincidence?