Using the network he had built from the ground up during his time as an assassin, Leon locked in on his target collection. The tricky part was Julias was wanted alive so that Leon couldn't go all out.
Leon wasn't surprised by the fact that his target was involved in a human trafficking ring. The whole thing was taking place in a butcher factory. Leon would have thought that such a building would have to be checked out by someone, but he realized that the inspector had been paid off.
When he arrived at the factory, Leon sighed as guards openly carried rifles near the fence gate, but no problem. Targeting the cluster of nerves at the base of each man's spine, Leon quickly put them to sleep.
Propping their bodies against the fence, Leon hoped that they were heavy sleepers. Hopping over the fence, Leon landed silently on the other side.
Looking for any point of entree Leon's eyes locked onto an ajar window, "Jackpot." Jumping up to the window, Leon climbed through, landing on the catwalk above the factory below.
The smell of rotten meat and something else burned Leon's nose. While some parts of the work line were autonomous, people did the rest of the butchering by hand.
Most of the workers were girls in their early twenties or younger. Some of them were chained to posts by their ankles. Moving on, Leon found a door leading to what must be the illegal part of the operation.
Vaulting over the catwalk, Leon dropped the twenty feet without a sound. Peeking through the door, Leon found more guards. What they were guarding was a dozen girls, all with burlap sacks over their heads and hands bound.
And then Julias walked into frame, "Hey, what is the merchandise still doing here? They're supposed to be gone twelve minutes ago."
"The trucks aren't here yet, boss. There's nothing we can do."
Julias looked like he was having about to have an aneurism judging from the vein pulsing in his forehead.
"Fine!! Take the girls back to their rooms while I go find out what's wrong with the delivery."
The guards nodded as they grabbed the girls and dragged them away, leaving Julias all on his lonesome.
Massaging his forehead, Julias sat down in his chair and reached for the emergency bottle stashed under his desk. Dialing the number as he poured himself a drink, he was ready to make the call when he felt someone watching him.
Turning around, all Julias saw was a flash of white hair before Leon knocked him out. Leon sighed, "I've gotten rusty. I let my intent slip out." Shrugging, Leon patted down his target for weapons, and he tossed aside the handgun strapped to Julais's waste and the knife hidden in his shoe.
"I never understood why people do that. They're more likely to cut themselves than escape with it."
Tying Julias up, Leon left the way he came, no one the wiser. After distancing himself from the factory, Leon used the Hunters website to schedule a pickup.
The whole affair was simple. After arriving in the predesignated area, Leon only had to wait a few minutes before a car pulled up and took Julias off his hands. But not before transferring the credits.
With plenty of daylight left, Leon took a stroll through the city, "I wonder how Machi's doing with her bounty."
-Machi's POV-
I sighed as, at long last, as my strings turned the heart of my previous enemy into mincemeat, the corpses hanging around the room fell to the floor, no longer strung up like puppets.
Cleaning my needles of blood, I left the massacre. My job was to eliminate a group of terrorists who were planning to blow up some building or whatnot. They were chump change that I quickly dealt with.
I smiled, though, when I saw my bank account suddenly flooded with jenny. Leon helped me open one yesterday as I was utterly clueless about banks and interest rates.
My stomach rumbled as I was glad Leon wasn't around or else I wouldn't know how to face him. Another thing I was clueless about, boys. This is one of the rare times I wished my mother was still alive.
Even just the smallest bit of advice would be helpful. As I turned around the corner, a flashing pink fluorescent light caught my eye. I was looking through the front window, and I could see women talking with each other while metal domes covered their heads. Others were sitting in chairs while having their hair washed and cut.
I absently reached up and played with my hair, 'Maybe I should try something new. I've always cut my own hair.'
I hesitated but eventually, I summoned up the courage to open the door to the salon. Taking a seat at the end of the line, I absently waited for my turn.
"Such pretty hair is that your natural color." The question caught me off guard, but I looked at the woman to my left and nodded, "People don't believe me when I tell them, though."
Another woman chuckled, "I could see why. And I have to ask who does your hair. Is it your mother?"
" No, my parents died a long time ago. I do my own hair though I'm a little bored with my usual style." As the women started to coddle me with condolences I was shocked by how talkative I was.
" Is this what it's like being around other women. Maybe I should do this more often."
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