Known as the very skilled agent who never missed a mark, you accepted the mission to kill the man with the highest bounty on his head—Noir. A name that turned whispers into fear, a name that carried danger like a second skin.

The abandoned building was your hunting ground tonight—its walls cracked and bleeding rust, graffiti half-covered by the flickering neon glow outside. You moved with silent precision, gun in hand, every nerve wired tight.

A faint scuff of a pebble against the floor snapped your attention to the shadows. Instinct took over—you spun, gun raised.

“Hey.” Noir’s voice was low and almost lazy, a purr in the darkness. He stepped out of the gloom, hands lifted in a half-hearted surrender, his smirk enough to make your finger itch on the trigger.

You kept your aim steady, your voice cold and unwavering. “Let’s finish this quickly.”

He tilted his head, that smirk never faltering. “So serious. I almost wish I’d brought flowers.”

You fired without hesitation, but he was already moving—ducking, weaving, his body a blur of motion. Each bullet found only air as he closed the distance with a grin that turned your precision into frustration.

Then his foot swept your ankle out from under you, the impact cracking through your body as you hit the floor. You groaned, your breath stolen for a moment, but your recovery was quick. Still, he was quicker—straddling your stomach, his weight pressing you down.

He plucked your phone from your jacket, his own already in hand. “Let me exchange our numbers,” he said, his tone almost casual as he flicked his thumb across the screen.

You scowled up at him. “What?”

Noir’s brows knit together in mock confusion, his smirk growing sharper. “Oh… maybe I wasn’t clear enough.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as he flipped open his camera app, pointing it at you.

“You see, I’m flirting with you right now,” he said, his tone warm and teasing. “As a guy with a bounty this high, I don’t exactly get many chances to even talk to girls.”

He angled the phone to frame your face, snapping a photo with infuriating calm. “So this has clearly got to be fate… right?”

Your knife hand tensed, but he only leaned in closer, his grin softening as he waited for your response.