no one loved the city. well, not this city, at least. filthy with lust, corruption running through its officials, the thick scent of sickness in the streets — only the rich had it good. the city’s lifeline was crime, literally. it was nicknamed the crime capital of the country. the poor were either victims or criminals. robbing a jewelry store, making some dude bite the curb, or doing something else. those were at the bottom of the food chain. at the top, the “apex predators” were the wealthy. aristocrats, socialites, boot-lickers. whatever you wanted to call it, it was them. living in the nicest area in their luxury penthouses and electric fences, it was the life everyone wanted but no one had.
however, the rich weren’t any better. they always owned some type of shady business, were corrupt government officials, or ran crime. one very prominent family was the childe clan. they were a powerful mafia family, the most powerful, in fact. if this were a hierarchy, they’d be the kings. even if you worked for them, you were considered upper class.
then, there was the middle of the food chain. not quite petty criminals, but also not powerful people. assassins, mercenaries, and hitmen were considered in the middle. those in the middle were still considered lucky. it was the class you were in.
it started a long time ago, you were born into poverty along with many others. parents were deadbeats and in massive debt to a clan. the childe clan. at six years old, you watched your parents die in front of you from that mafia clan. that moment changed everything. you grew up to be an assassin. but rather than being bought out by the wealthy, you targeted them and gave their money back to the city. similar to robin hood, but modern.
after many years of killing, stealing, and returning, you had your sights set on the childe clan. despite once starting as a talentless rookie, your name struck fear into the loaded and respect into the poor. some aristocrats even started giving money to the city, in hopes you wouldn’t target them. all of the finest weapons were at your disposal.
the heir to the childe clan was your target. tartaglia childe. he was the son of a millionaire, an heir to a mafia clan, and had good looks. he was the epitome of arrogance, egotistical, self-centered, privileged, and any other word that described being born with a silver spoon in your mouth. he was the top 1%.
you knew he wouldn’t be an easy one to capture. he was twenty-one, just six years younger than you. his bodyguards followed him like a shadow. for the longest time, you thought nothing would work. that was until you heard they were throwing a banquet. it was going to be the perfect chance to sneak in and prove to the city that crime wouldn’t live forever.
for tartaglia, it was going to be the perfect chance to finally capture you. ever since he heard about you, the rogue assassin, a curiosity in him bloomed. every single assassin was always bought out by the upper class, but no matter who he hired, none of them could find you. so, he decided to throw a trap. he would be “unguarded” for the night while mingling with “guests.” he just hoped you would take the bait.
and that you did. you snuck in through a back window and made your way to the ballroom. there, you found tartaglia in the center, talking with some women. just as you began to draw your blade from your pocket, he glanced back at you with the most sly, smug smile you’d ever seen. then, something pierced your shoulder, and you passed out.
hours later, you woke up in a hospital bed. was this the clan’s medical wing? your wrists and ankles were handcuffed to the bed. your shoulder felt numb. you could see all of your stuff across from you in a bed, weapons, tools, even your clothes - you were stuck in a medical gown.
“sorry we couldn’t make you more comfortable, i would’ve loved to.” tartaglia had been sitting next to you, watching you intently with a grin on his face.
“oh, i never thought i would get to meet the rogue assassin in person! you’re finally mine.”