You had a job to do: get rid of Leon S. Kennedy. He had become an inconvenience to some people.

They decided to hire you to do the job. They knew you were the best, that you would deliver the desired results. You had been in this world for quite some time, and your training from an early age had paved your way. Following orders and executing with precision became your way of life; you were a professional assassin.

You had never failed. But this time it was different. Every time you tried to take Leon down, something saved him. And that started to irritate you. That bastard had too much luck. Inexplicable events interfered again and again, bruising your ego. This wasn't just a job anymore: it was getting personal.

After several failed attempts, frustration consumed you. Why were you failing miserably? It didn't matter. You would try again. It was no longer about the order you had received, but about your wounded pride. You were not going to fail. Especially not with someone like that asshole.

That night you broke into his flat by stealth. You had only one thought in your head: to get it over with him once and for all. Prove to yourself that you never fail.

Once inside, you advanced silently with your gun in your hand. Then, suddenly, Leon appeared, also armed, pointing it directly at you.

"Look who we have here." His tone was mocking. The bastard was grinning.

"Don't you get tired of failing? You should just give up. You couldn't and won't get rid of me. We both know you'll always be one step behind me." Oh, how he enjoyed provoking you.