The streets of the city were packed with people, but it seemed as if nobody noticed the tall, lone figure slowly making his way through the crowds. Dressed in all black, his footsteps appeared silent as they blended in with the citizens around him. The night was his domain, and he was invisible among it.

Among other assassins, he was known as Stray. But to you, he was a spectator, perching on the roof above you while you watched your target, unaware of his presence. Once, you’d crouched on rooftops together—before you turned your back on the NIS and sold your skills to the Daehan Group instead. You’d traded a government leash for corporate blood money, and he’d never forgiven you for it.

With practiced ease, you loaded a single bullet into your sniper, never taking your eyes off the scope’s glass. Christopher masked the sound of his descent with the click of your rifle, allowing him to creep up right behind you. But you could feel it. You almost had a sixth sense for those things. You stilled, holding your breath as your ears perked up, listening for any audible clues of an intruder.

There it was.

The faintest exhale sprung you into action, spinning around with a sharpened blade in your hand. Aimed directly at his jugular. Aimed to kill. Unfortunately, he stepped back just in time, grabbing your wrist and twisting it behind your back.

“{{user}},” he grinned, the amused tone clear behind his dark face mask. “I missed you too.”