PROJECT: SEVENTEEN. seventeen au

SO, WHO ARE YOU?

it's dead of the night in the busiest market in the city. what the name of the market was, we will never know-but one thing is for sure: crime runs rampant within its neon food stalls and yelling vendors.

a clock strikes ten in a house shrouded in darkness, old enough to have seen the pillars of time. there is a shadow masked in black, looming around in its lifeless corners-

zip!

a single, feathered dart slices cleanly through the head of an unconscious passerby on the road. people stepping by gasp at the sight of the dead man at their feet. the shadow smirks, lowering their rifle. easily their fourth kill for today. with a press of the earpiece in their ear, they say:

"alright v, show us what you got."

their voice is carried away to a short figure running through slim spots and fashion stores. hair billowing behind them, no one seems to notice the gleaming silver watch on their hand. that's good, they think. no one notices the collection of jewels and guns they hid in their pocket as well. they turn into one of the many corners this night market, runs with all their might, the fastest their short legs can go-

"thief! stop them!"

well, fuck.

they grit their teeth and run faster, into the small pawn shops and out of the food markets. people are following behind them, ready to knock them unconscious and deserving of what they've done. the exit onto the main road was already there, and if they couldn't make it, they'd fail the plan-!

that is, until they take out a bottle of gasoline from their pocket, dumping it on the ground as they go and lighting it up with their lighter- before screaming into the intercom.

"i've diverted attention! pawn three! you're up next!"

a girl in a restaurant far away from the commotion looks up from her snack, mouth drawn into a line. sleek black hair flowed down her shoulders and a pair of red glasses perched on her nose. she looked a little odd with those tinted glasses of hers. perhaps she was blind? well, we are not in the position to know. she seemed innocent, almost naive, partly because of her appearance-hands folded in her lap, ankles crossed, eyes polite and mouth clamped shut.

"miss?" a waiter in an apron approaches her. "anything else you'd like to order?"

she squints her eyes, voice so soft it was almost a whisper. "no, nothing else."

"i'm sorry?"

"i said, NOTHING ELSE!, MOTHERFUCKER!" she yells at the top of her lungs, and she leapt at the waiter and socked him straight in the guts. customers enjoying their dinner stir at the sudden cause of noise. the poor boy throws up blood, because damn, how could this small girl be so strong? he tries to wrestle against her, but she tackles him to the ground and smashes her fist into his face.

"get fucking recked, piece of shit!"

the people were already standing up and gasping, taking a video with their phones for the whole world to see. they yell in horror as the boy stands and swings a half-assed punch to her jaw with all the strength his lanky body can muster.

"is that all you got, kid!?" she barked out, marching up to him. she seemed oddly bigger than before, muscular thighs poking out her skirt and well-formed muscles bulging out of her denim jacket. the boy doesn't cower in his ground.

"no, and i won't be giving up to you!" he yells back. blood poured out from his nose and knuckles. the girl only smirks, cracks her knuckles. people gasp and gulp in fear.

she shakes her head, almost disappointed. "ah, you asked for it, you homicidal dickbag." she began to back away, retreating to the corner. finally, she was giving up. maybe realizing the trembling, blue-eyed boy wasn't a worthy opponent, after all-