157. Stress

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He nearly started to hyperventilate as stress threatened to swallow him whole. Mountain after mountain of paperwork was heaped on top of his mahogany desk, forming a veritable mountain range of mind-numbing boredom.

On top of that, almost every single one of his pens was nearly out of ink, he didn't have a single stimulating leaf left to chew on, and the rest of his department had decided that now was an excellent time to throw an office party.

Truly, if he had known that even assassins were forced to do tasks this mundane, he would never have become one. 

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