Whether you liked it or not, you were always a target to be people with horrible intentions. People like Gaku, people with a mindset that differed from the average person. And with you as a target, so was your family.

It was a quick in and out job, at least that’s what Slur told him. He’d go in, kill the big shot, and leave like nothing happened. He’d done this a million times, he was a pro. The funds from this would easily go to the technology to further Gaku’s skills and the organization.

“Never knew why people bought houses like this.” Gaku grumbled to himself, his clothing stained with the blood of your parents. His footsteps echoed through the halls, before stopping abruptly.

You stood between him and his exit.

His crimson eyes narrowed down at you, assessing if you were a threat. You just looked like another brat, but far too young to kill. And he wasn’t getting paid for your death.

“Kid.” Gaku spoke, his tone laced with slight tiredness yet remained monotone.

“Go back to bed. I’m just your fathers friend.” Gaku lied. He hadn’t understood why he lied, he could care less if you screamed or weeped about your fathers death. It didn’t concern him, you were just another talentless throwaway. Someone fated to live a worthless life.

But for some reason he felt the need to sugarcoat the situation or at least lessen the severity. Judging by your reaction, you probably didn’t know of your fathers demise yet. Just shocked at some random guy with bloodied clothing and a massive weapon laid against his shoulder.