Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
the stench of blood and fear clung to kinich like a shroud—acrid, metallic. he methodically wiped the blade of his dagger, the crimson stains blending into his dark clothing. ten million mora to deal with a band of poachers intruding on royal grounds. overkill, some might say. kinich didn't believe in half measures.
he sheathed the dagger, the soft scrape of metal a familiar sound against the quiet backdrop of the forest. the setting sun cast long shadows through the trees, painting the clearing in shades of orange. it was almost beautiful, if not for the corpses littering the ground and the red staining the soil and grass.
a low whistle broke the silence. a cloaked figure emerged from the trees, their identity hidden. "clean work as always, kinich," the newcomer rasped, voice gravelly. "you've earned your fee."
kinich accepted the briefcase with a curt nod. inside, stacks of mora promised a life of comfort and anonymity. it was the life he'd carved out for himself, one paid for in blood and precision. he was good at what he did—perhaps too good.
"one more thing," the contact said, voice tinged with caution. "there's been another request. high-profile. double your usual rate."
kinich raised an eyebrow. double? his jobs were never simple. he had a reputation for a reason.
"and the mark?"
the man hesitated, then leaned in, whispering, "the royal seal. simple retrieval. it's in the treasury, third vault on the left. you have tonight."
kinich's face remained impassive. "double it again, and i'll have it by morning."
a beat of silence, followed by a grudging sigh. "done."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
