Elsewhere, in a clandestine chamber shrouded in secrecy, the two giant metal doors leading into the room, of which bore the Soul Divination Council's Insignia, slowly opened.

As the light of the neighboring hallway seeped into the chamber, revealing a group of enigmatic figures sitting at a wide metal table, two people entered.

One was a tall and lean man. His straight, blue-green hair and slightly tanned skin were the only features not obscured by his black cloak.

The one walking beside him was a woman with long, amber hair and eyes. Her somewhat petite stature mirrored the man.

The pair showed obvious signs of fidgeting and fear. Each click of the woman's heels echoed throughout the entire room and back into their ears, somehow furthering the tension.

Their hearts pounded with a mixture of apprehension and fear as they approached the round table bathed in a dim, eerie glow. Five hooded figures sat around it, their silhouettes barely discernible in the murky ambiance.

“Halt.” One of the chairmen commanded, his voice filled with heavy authority.

The two individuals froze in an instant, their bodies dropping to one knee. They both gulped when hearing the rumbling of the colossal metal doors sealing shut, as if their own fates were also sealed.

“Captains Bacho and Munia… I would say it's a pleasure to meet again… But,” Another chairman spoke, leaning back in his chair. “I think we all know why you were called here today…”

"Our stronghold in the Aserian Ocean—Your Posts—seems to have met a dreadful fate." Intoned another figure, their high, yet chilling voice seemed to strike Bacho's and Munia's very souls.

"You phrase it as if it was their fault,” a fourth voice rang from the table of men, “We already know they were sent off to find that girl. Isn't that right—Director Matchi Tehew?"

Everyone in the room realized and feared the immense weight that name garnered.

Matchi Tehew, current leader of the Soul Divination Church and Council, and not to mention, labeled the ‘Evilest Soul Sorcerer alive’. He sat at the head of the table, his body completely obscured in shadows, with only the amulet he wore around his neck reflecting the tiniest glint of light.

Tehew leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Correct… Though, I did say if I ever saw them again without the girl…”

Munia abruptly shot up in fear for what's to come. “M-my lord, I know you said to find her, and I want to say we have a lead! So ple—!”

“SILENCE!!!” One of the other chairmen’s voice boomed within the chamber. The singular command echoing repeatedly as it got quieter, yet keeping the same absolute authority it held throughout. “To speak without being told is a grievous misconduct. Know your place, Munia…”

“Y-Y-Yessir…” Munia weakly replied.

Witnessing this from a short distance away, Bacho couldn't help the small ember of anger lighting inside of him.

“It's quite alright,” Tehew coldly remarked, secretly enjoying the show of total fear he had over Munia, “But to cut to the chase, the fortress we had in the Aserian Ocean has unfortunately exploded. Crewmen sent to the aftermath have reported it was done by the self-destruction procedure… To think there's someone out there who's able to push our men to that point…”

A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the captains' shallow breaths as they exchanged anxious glances, the weight of impending doom bearing down upon them.

"This was not happenstance; it was a deliberate strike against us. We don't know who attacked them, but it's safe to say the explosion did them in… Is what I'd like to say, but we absolutely cannot leave ANYTHING up to chance… Which is why I'm tasking both you and our entire squadron of captains to go look for this fool.”

Another chairman raised their hand to speak. "It is my suspicion that the breach in our security, leading to the destruction of our fortress, could be linked to the one who escaped our grasp four years past…”

A shiver of dread passed through not only Bacho and Munia, but also the other chairmen as they exchanged alarmed glances.

"You mean—" began the next chairman, their voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and apprehension.

"Indeed," Tehew cut in, his tone bearing an edge of urgency, "Our most elusive and skilled subject, No. 35: The Ghost Assassin."

“The Ghost Assassin!?” Bacho struggled to maintain composure as he internally panicked. “No. 35, the legendary Ghost Assassin, a child soldier trained by the Nightstalkers. He possessed expertise in stealth and lethal precision, far surpassing even most dedicated Executioners at the Council’s disposal. His record of completing missions and leaving no survivors was unmatched!”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"I believe it's time we locate No. 35. Not only to reclaim what was taken, but to ensure that justice is served for the crimes committed against us." One chairman stated.

The other chairmen nodded in silent agreement of a shared resolve to hunt down the elusive figure.

“No worries,” Tehew leaned back in his chair, and by proxy, back into the shadows, his left eye glinting with an ominous crimson color. “I already handpicked someone to complete this task: ‘Puppeteer’. Other than that, you two are dismissed. There's nothing to discuss further.”

At their director's behest, Bacho and Munia stood, bowed once more, and walked towards the exit. Both tried their best to keep their body shaking to a minimum.

As Bacho reached for the handles to heave the colossal doors open, Tehew would say one last thing. “By the way, this should go without saying… But please don't fail… For your sakes at least. Good luck…”

Now outside in the main hallway and the entrance closed behind them, the two captains would immediately hug the walls, trying to catch their breath.

“I feel like I'm going to throw up from the stress alone, Munia…” Bacho heaved out in between ragged breaths.

Munia agreed. “Tell me about it. Now we have to go and find another random dude…”

“Ugh… The only thing we can do is keep moving forward. Any progress is better than none, and I don’t feel like getting my skin flayed just yet. Come on.”

Now making their way down the hall, two figures, wearing silver lined black cloaks, soon came into view. Figures both of them were familiar with.

“Well well well, if it isn't trashbag and our lovely Munia.” Said a man with wild blonde hair, emerald eyes, and a cocky snarl, nonchalantly twirling a flintlock pistol in his right hand.

“You two look ghastly, like you've seen a ghost! Judging from where you're coming from, I don't blame ya.” The one with long, dark blue and permed hair commented. His eyes were perpetually shut, adding on to his snarky laugh after.

Bacho’s brow furrowed in frustration. “Senpai Carlin and Hrall…”

“Tch, is that all you have to say to your superior, trashbag?” Carlin smugly remarked, purposefully getting in Bacho's face. They both stood at the same height of seventy inches.

Carlin enjoyed seeing the rising irritation painting itself onto Bacho's entire face, as he knew Bacho couldn't do anything as a lower status member.

“It's not worth it…” Almost letting his anger get the best of him, Bacho took a deep breath, cooling himself, and continued walking. “Let's go Munia, we have a mission to do.”

“Oh, right!” Munia perked up, chasing after Bacho, only for her right arm to be grabbed by Carlin.

“Come now, let the trash take itself out to the dumpster, a place a woman shouldn't be. At least she has some value.” Carlin laughed out, staring down an irritated Bacho as he turned around.

“Hey! Let go!” Munia cried out as she tried to pull away, but to no avail.

Twisting her arm, causing her to yelp in pain, and pulling her face to face with him, Carlin heartlessly belittled Munia. “You of all people should know you can't disobey men like me. You may be a captain, but you’re still just a woman…”

In a flash, Carlin would find himself punching his own face with the hand he was holding Munia.

“Uh-oh~! Looks like our friend over here has lost his marbles, punching and knocking himself on his own ass.” Bacho smugly said, letting go of Munia's right arm.

Hrall could barely mask his laughter as Carlin scrambled to his feet.

“What the hell was that!? You fucking shitbag!”

“Oh? Did I get promoted from trashbag to shitbag? I'm so honored, sen~pai!” Bacho teasingly snickered, extending his arms outward for a hug.

Now boiling with anger, Carlin lunged at Bacho with a right hook, only to be socked in the face by Bacho's own right hook.

“Man, now that I think about it. This WAS worth it.” Bacho thought to himself as he stepped back with the smuggest face he could muster.

Regaining his footing from the blow, Carlin wracked his brain for an answer. “What the hell is going on!? How did he strike me first? He didn't even start to throw a punch! I'm no doubt stronger and faster, so why!?”

To Munia and Hrall, it just looked like they switched places in an instant, position and all.

As a single drop of blood peeked out from Carlin's nostrils, he raised his pistol at Bacho, but was stopped by a distinct sound behind him.

The left door had been slightly creaked open. “Executioners Carlin and Hrall… The Directors are waiting.” A disembodied voice spoke from the darkness of the chamber.

“Well, looks like we have to get going. Can't keep the Directors waiting,” Hrall said as he made his way down the hall, tapping Carlin's shoulder as he passed. “Right, Carlin?”

Angrily glaring at a smirking Bacho, a visible vein forming on his forehead, Carlin reluctantly turned his back to heed the call of the Directors with Hrall, scoffing.

A gesture Bacho would do in kind with Munia in tow.

After the altercation, an awkward silence hung between Bacho and Munia as they walked down the hall. The silence would be broken moments later though by a grateful Munia. “Thanks, Bacho.”

Scoffing again, Bacho cracked his knuckles in a self-assuring manner. “Don’t mention it. I hate that guy's guts more than anyone else. I may get in trouble, but fuck, he had that, and much more, coming. Either way, can't just let him grab you like that.”

“Hey… Bacho, I'm wondering...”

“Hm? Wondering about what?”

“It's just… I heard from some other captains that you were given the opportunity to be promoted to an Executioner, but turned it down. Was that true?”

Bacho put both hands behind his head as he answered. “That? Yeah, a few months ago.”

Shocked by her partner's response, Munia ran in front of Bacho and asked him why face-to-face. “Really!? Why? The pay and respect you earn is way bigger, isn't it?”

“Yeah, it is, but I just didn't want to… It's kind of complicated…” Bacho said while sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, trying his best to hide the slight blush he felt forming.

“In truth, Munia… If it meant staying as your partner, I don’t mind staying a captain…”

-

Next: (Chapter 18) No. 35: The Ghost Assassin