Meanwhile, Kil was talking to someone on his phone.
"Benjamin, tighten security. Send the cleaning crew. And bring a torturer. Three fuckers just touched my territory."
Kil's eyes wandered the area, scanning the vicinity for any remaining intruders. There were none.
He knew the night crawlers of the neighborhood. Migs from the convenience store. The usual silhouettes. These weren't locals. Whoever sent them had done their assignment properly.
"I'll give them that…" A small smile tugged at his lips. They didn't harm any innocents this time.
This time.
His mood soured as memories surfaced. Back when they were more active. More cruel. When he had taken more damage, inexperienced and reckless.
"Dad… where are you…?" he muttered under his breath.
Soon enough, a pickup truck and an SUV rolled in. From the SUV stepped a man with a badge. Kil didn't flinch. If anything, the man looked like he was the one walking a thin line around Kil. The man visibly swallowing his saliva.
They were followed by an old man and a teenage girl. The old man had a kind face, wore a suit and tie, butler-like in posture. Beside him, the girl stood out. Punk-styled clothes cluttered with cute clips, stickers, and keychains. A mask covered her face. Her long hair was tied into twin pigtails, the sides shaved into a low fade.
The teen showed no hesitation, dragging the corpse aside and kicking the stabbed man to check if he was still alive.
A large man stepped out of the pickup truck and hoisted the three men Kil had caught into the back. Another man was already seated there, hair bright red, ears pierced. He tied them up, including the dead one, then casually cut a chunk of flesh from the corpse and shoved it into the stab wound of the injured man.
Kil watched with open disgust.
"I know you're a torturer, Red. Do it at headquarters. Not here."
Red scoffed, uninterested. "Who are you to tell me what to do, Kil? You're the one who keeps dragging trouble to us. Why not do it yourself?"
Benjamin and the large man froze instantly, shushing Red. They knew Kil's temper far too well.
Suddenly, Benjamin barked, "Rookie! Knock the living shit out of Red before Kil decides to make him a midnight snack!"
At the command, the rookie moved. She leapt from her position onto the pickup truck, the distance closing fast as Benjamin and the large man desperately tried to talk Kil down.
"Master Kil, please listen to me and Whale," Benjamin pleaded. "Red has never betrayed the organization. Or you. Or anyone. He just has that fucking mouth of his."
Whale nodded repeatedly in agreement, so much it looked like he might make himself dizzy.
"Fine."
Kil conceded, though his killing intent still leaked out of him, eyes fixed on the fight erupting in the truck bed.
The rookie and Red clashed fiercely. They were evenly matched in ferocity. Red was stronger, no doubt about it, but the rookie was faster. Her weapons were twin daggers. Ambidextrous. Deadly.
Red wasn't someone to underestimate either. His weapon, a small axe, had decapitated heads in past missions.
Neither backed down.
Until Whale intervened.
One massive hand grabbed both their heads and smashed them together. The impact was dull and decisive. They dropped unconscious, matching bumps already swelling on their foreheads.
It did the job.
The commotion had begun drawing attention. Lights flicked on in nearby houses and apartments, one by one. Before anyone could get a clear look, Kil sent them off.
Benjamin had already cleaned the blood with the help of the man with the badge. The pickup truck and SUV slipped away soon after, tires screeching as they disappeared down the street, black marks scarring the pavement.
Kil turned back toward the flower shop.
His chest tightened.
He might be the owner's son, but it had been years since he last stepped inside. He didn't even have the keys anymore.
His fingers traced the steel roller shutter, the hollow panels. Several were dented.
"If only my dreams were true…" he murmured.
"I would've been the florist."