Kaito didn't open the door all the way, he kept it barely cracked, just enough for the candlelight from inside to spill across the man's polished boots, the glint of steel underneath his cloak confirmed what he had already suspected, this wasn't a customer, this wasn't even a spy, this was a professional—someone trained, dangerous, and worse, diplomatic, the kind of man who offered contracts with one hand and held daggers in the other.
"What exactly are you offering?" Kaito asked, his voice neutral, keeping his hand on the switch under the counter, if the man made one wrong move, a burst of frost would drop from the ceiling, not lethal, but enough to give Kaito a five-second head start through the alley trapdoor he had prepped two nights ago just in case something like this happened.
The man chuckled, not like a villain, but like someone who knew he was holding a winning hand, "I'm here to offer employment," he said, "I've read the reports, I've followed the trails, the enchanted shards you call Cursebreaker Sparks were used in a church assassination last week, a Thundermark Bead disabled a knight captain's artifact armor in one strike, you're not just selling charms—you're building weapons no one understands."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Kaito replied, flatly, but his mind was already shifting gears, this guy wasn't bluffing, he had information that only someone close to the underworld—or the throne—could possibly access, and if he already knew Kaito's alias, then denying it wouldn't help, the only card left to play was usefulness.
"Relax," the man said, raising one hand in mock surrender, "I'm not here to arrest you, in fact, if you say yes to my next sentence, I'll pretend we never had this conversation," then he leaned in slightly, eyes calm but cold, "There's a target the crown can't remove publicly, a noble with too many allies, too many eyes watching, but if someone like you made him… vanish… well, the kingdom might look the other way next time you sell alchemical charms to war criminals."
Kaito closed the panel slowly, turned, and looked at Lilyeth who had been listening from the shadows, her face unreadable, but the tension in her jaw said she understood everything, this was the moment everything shifted, no more pretending to be a hobbyist inventor or a street tinkerer, if they said yes, they'd be assassins on contract with royal protection, and if they said no, it was only a matter of time before someone else less friendly came knocking.
"What's the name?" Kaito asked, not turning back, not even needing to see the man's face anymore.
Behind the door, the voice answered calmly, "Lord Galdric Verrun, Third Marquis of the Silverblade Court, he runs half the slave traffic in the east, has thirty guards and a pet wyvern, the crown can't touch him—but you can, Gun Saint."
That title.
He hadn't used it since his arrival, hadn't even said it out loud, but hearing it from a stranger's mouth meant only one thing, someone out there had seen the gun, had watched what it could do, and now the rumor was spreading, not about Kaito the merchant or Kaito the alchemist—but Kaito the Gun Saint, the shadow-killer who used thunder and fire instead of blades and chants.
After a long silence, Kaito opened the panel again, just wide enough to pass through a small tin box, inside was a single Hollow Curse Round, etched with symbols designed to bypass mana shields and shatter bone with spiritual backlash, he didn't say a word, just handed it over.
The man accepted the box with a smile that didn't reach his eyes, bowed slightly, and disappeared into the shadows of the alley without another word.
Kaito locked the door, turned to Lilyeth, and exhaled slowly.
"So," she said, "we're assassins now."
He walked past her and grabbed a small case from the hidden shelf, one filled with capsules that no one else in this kingdom could use the way he could.
"No," he said, pulling on a dark cloak and slipping his pistol under his belt, "We're businessmen."
Then he loaded the chamber with the new round and added under his breath, "Assassination's just the most profitable department."
The inn Kaito chose for the meeting was built like a noble's afterthought, three floors tall with a stone base, wooden pillars, and a rooftop that leaned slightly to one side like it was tired of standing, the kind of place where mercenaries stayed too long, where local nobles never entered without guards, and where the right amount of coin could buy you silence, secrets, or someone's disappearance depending on the hour.
Kaito walked in through the side entrance with his hood low, Lilyeth beside him dressed like a traveling bard with a lute case that actually held throwing knives, their eyes met briefly, no words exchanged, just the mutual understanding that things were now in motion, the job had been accepted, the wheels were turning, and by midnight, someone important was going to die.
They moved up the stairs to the second floor where Room 9 waited—already paid for in someone else's name, already bugged with three illusion markers and a silence field, Kaito's doing of course, standard protocol for high-risk business negotiations in a world where magic could eavesdrop better than tech, the room was dim, only one candle burning on the table in the center, and in the middle of that table sat a map.
He unrolled it slowly, revealing the layout of the Silverblade Estate, the sprawling manor where Lord Verrun was set to hold a masked banquet three nights from now, a gathering of nobles, merchants, warlords, and other parasites in elegant clothing, all pretending not to notice the cages hidden beneath the cellar floor, the bloodstains behind the arena curtains, or the missing children from the nearby villages.
"Everything's public up here," Kaito muttered, tapping the drawing of the ballroom, "Too many eyes, too many witnesses, I'd need an anti-magic field, two diversion spells, and a miracle to make the shot clean."
"You're not shooting him during the ball," Lilyeth said, her voice calm but certain, "You're sneaking in the night before."
Kaito raised an eyebrow, then grinned slowly, "You found a way in."
She opened a folded parchment and pointed to a side corridor labeled Servant Wine Storage, then to a tunnel beneath it labeled in older ink, Waste Tunnel Access, Sealed, "The tunnel was closed last year, but the stone cap's still cracked, I can break it open from the outside while you go in from the merchant's lane disguised as a delivery man."
He nodded, thinking it through, "What about magic alarms?"
"That's the part you'll love," she said, tossing him a vial of blue crystal powder, "This shuts down enchantments in a five-meter radius for thirty seconds, enough to pass through without tripping anything, I traded two Shockburst Rounds for it."
Kaito pocketed the vial, then leaned back and tapped the map, drawing a line from the cellar to the main staircase, "That gets me in, but I still need a vantage point, I can't just walk up and shoot the guy at dinner."
"You're not," she said, sliding another parchment toward him, this one showing the servant quarters, "He sleeps with three guards, enchanted locks on the door, and a sound barrier spell, but every third night, he sneaks out to the courtyard to pray to some old relic from the First War—alone, unguarded, and without armor."
Kaito's eyes lit up, "Let me guess, he does it tomorrow night."
Lilyeth nodded once, her voice turning cold, "He calls it purifying the guilt of leadership, but the truth is, he just enjoys feeling clean before doing more dirty things."
Kaito stood, holstered his pistol, and adjusted the strap holding his spare rounds, five Inferno, two Hollow Curse, one Echo, and the rest blanks filled with dust and misdirection, his assassination kit was ready, his escape route was prepped, and now all that remained was the execution.
"Alright," he said, "let's give the man one last prayer."
Then he blew out the candle and left the room with Lilyeth, disappearing into the night like smoke through a keyhole.
The moon hovered above the Silverblade Estate like a silent witness, pale and distant, casting its cold light over the iron-barred courtyard where Lord Verrun knelt alone before a rusted statue of an old war god whose name had been erased by time, his ceremonial robe dragging along the cobbled floor, each step he took muttering a prayer that sounded more like an apology, yet even then, his voice held no sincerity, only routine, as if asking forgiveness was part of the same schedule as ordering a servant's flogging or signing a child's cage away.
Kaito watched him from the estate's east wall, masked and crouched beneath a stretch of ivy that clung to the stone like a second skin, the ZeroSystem Mk-IX resting silently in his hand, its barrel already loaded with a Hollow Curse Round, the kind that didn't just kill—it lingered, it made sure the soul knew why it was dying, and it made sure the body screamed in silence until the last heartbeat failed, poetic justice for a man who auctioned off lives and called it "progress".
No guards in sight, no patrols, no alarm spells pulsing on the perimeter, the courtyard had been cleared exactly as Lilyeth predicted, and Verrun, in his arrogance, had chosen again to walk into his own moment of solitude, unaware that tonight, his god would not be listening, but death would be.
Kaito took the shot, no hesitation, no dramatic flourish, just the soft squeeze of a trigger and a whisper of air as the bullet left the barrel with barely a sound, the Hollow Curse Round traveled through shadow like it belonged there, slicing cleanly through the night and embedding itself into the center of Verrun's back just as he reached for his prayer stone.
The noble gasped, but no sound came out, the silence field activated instantly by the cursed bullet, his mouth moved in horror, hands clawed at nothing, legs folded like paper, and in a matter of seconds, his body collapsed onto the stone platform in a heap of robes and regret.
Kaito waited only long enough to confirm the twitching had stopped, then turned and disappeared into the tunnel exit behind the servant stables, where Lilyeth was already holding the rope ladder steady, her expression unreadable beneath the mask, but her eyes sharp and satisfied.
"It's done," he said simply.
She nodded, pulled the rope, and the false floor above them slid shut, hiding the escape route once more, and in that moment, the quiet victory felt clean, almost too clean, like the calm before a storm that hadn't yet announced itself.
But the peace shattered a heartbeat later when a new sound echoed from the edge of the stables—a slow clap, deliberate and mocking.
Kaito turned instantly, gun raised, and from the shadows stepped a man in white noble robes lined with silver thread, his long red hair tied back, his smile razor-thin, and his eyes far too calm for someone who'd just witnessed a silent assassination.
"Well done," the stranger said, hands still together in applause, "Elegant. Efficient. A bit theatrical, perhaps, but I do enjoy a little flair in my killings."
"Who are you," Kaito said flatly, already lining the next shot.
The man bowed slightly, but never took his eyes off the barrel.
"Me? Just a client looking for a new contractor," he said, grinning wide, "After all, it's rare to find someone in this kingdom who kills like they've done it before."
Kaito's finger hovered over the trigger, but Lilyeth placed a hand on his arm.
"Wait," she said softly, "That's—"
The man's eyes twinkled as he finished the sentence for her.
"—Ashcloak. At your service."