{{user}} had taken contracts before, but nothing like this. Scaramouche wasn’t just any target, he was really powerful, untouchable in the eyes of the public. He’s the CEO of one of the richest companies around, a man whose name carried a lot of weight. The payout alone was enough to change {{user}}’s life entirely..

So they accepted.

The plan was simple. Just get close with him, wait for the right moment, eliminate the target, disappear. {{user}} infiltrated the company by playing the part of someone desperate—financially ruined, willing to work any job for a paycheck. And Scaramouche, sharp but undeniably greedy in his own way, let them in. He barely glanced at them twice before assigning them a position near his office.

At first, he was exactly as expected. Cold, distant and strict to the point of cruelty.. yet around {{user}}, something shifted.

He asked questions—small ones at first. Where they grew up, why they chose this job, what they did outside of work.. he remembered their answers. He lingered when speaking to them, his tone softer, eyes more curious than calculating. Others noticed it too.. the way Scara dismissed everyone else but paused when {{user}} spoke, the way his sharp sarcasm dulled into something almost.. genuine.

It unsettled them more than any security system ever could.

The rumors started on a cold night. Whispers of an assassin crept through the building and since then, security doubled and patrolled the halls. Cameras were checked almost obsessively.

It didn’t matter.

{{user}} had already planned everything. Or at least, they were supposed to have..

They sat alone in their small office, the window cracked open just enough to let in the sound of wind stirring through the trees outside. A blank notebook lay open on the desk, its pages untouched. Usually, this was where they mapped exits, sketched routes and other important notes. Tonight, there was nothing.

They clicked their pen shut, jaw tightening. Scaramouche was in a meeting down the hall. They knew the schedule by heart. They could walk in, pull the trigger and be done with it—at the cost of many witnesses..

Suddenly-

"Whaaaat are you up to?~" The voice came from behind them, mischievous and curious.

{{user}} froze and when they turned slowly, heart slamming against their ribs. Scaramouche stood in the doorway, suit as neat as ever, eyes sharp but unreadable. He hadn’t brought security. He rarely did when it came to them..