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4: What Is Your Favorite Book?

4: What Is Your Favorite Book?

Jack steps into the used bookstore, accompanied by the chime of a bell recognizing the visitor. The musty scent of old books envelops him like a familiar embrace. Footsteps creak softly on the floorboards as he navigates the labyrinth of shelves, scanning the rows of dusty volumes.

What could Jack be searching for in this quaint establishment? Perhaps he is seeking a rare piece of literature—a forgotten tome that holds the key to unraveling a clue in a case he has been working on. Or maybe he is hunting for a particular manual—a guide to ancient weaponry or martial arts techniques that could aid him in his quest for justice.

Jack's mind races with possibilities as he peruses the shelves with a practiced eye. Each book promises relevant knowledge that may aid him in pursuing justice.

The tinkling of a bell heralds the arrival of another patron. Jack glances up to see a figure cloaked in black entering the room. Not a sound is heard as he moves through the aisles. The shadows lengthen within the dimly lit store. A sudden hush falls over the air, broken only by the faint rustle of pages as Jack continues searching among the shelves while keeping an eye on the strange man in black.

The man continues walking to a bookshelf facing Jack. Strange, but Jack has had many an encounter such as this before. His line of work and fearsome reputation have made him a target in the eyes of numerous syndicates in the past. This again? Great, Jack mutters as he readies his revolver. It is not surprising if a bounty has been put on his head. Jack rubs his eyes and lets out a tired exhale. It took days to take down the bounty last time, and he could not even take a foot outside until the Director confirmed his safety. He is not too keen on reliving through that again.

Shing. The sound of a blade drawn. By the sound of it, the weapon can be a long-blade type. Jack takes a step backward. Is he going to stab through? Jack asks himself, surveying the thickness of the shelf.

CRAAAAACK!

The assassin pulverizes through the entire bookshelf in one slash. Words and titles float in the air and down goes the knowledge.

No, he was not going to stab through.

"Shit," Jack shields himself from the wood chips and rubble.

"Oi!" Yells the shopkeeper. "Who the f- oh, it's you."

"Hey, Roland," Jack waves to the bookstore owner. "Mind closing the shop for the day?"

"Jack, you sonofabitch! Why's this always gotta be me and my shop, man?!" Roland yells and holds up two fingers. "This marks twice, you know?!"

"I know, the deja vu is really kicking in— wait! Get down!" Jack screams.

A barrage of books aims for Roland. He yelps and dives down as the torpedos sink through his table decorated with famous author quotes. Well, once decorated, anyway.

A broken cover clatters in front of him from behind. "Oh hell no! Not Aesop!" Roland cries.

"Ay, ay, ay! Those books were vintage collections," Jack coughs from the smoke and dust.

"Jack! Get rid of him, and I promise not to sue you and the SIA!" Roland dashes through the backdoor and fumbles for his keys as he tries to lock it.

"Yeah, yeah. Just get outta here."

Roland at last reaches for the right key. He puts the key, turns the lock and makes a run for it.

The assassin emerges from the darkness—a silent specter clad in black, ominous as the night itself.

"Great. Who're you supposed to be, huh?" Jack points the revolver.

"..."

"Cat got your tongue? Fine by me."

Bang! Bang! Bang! Jack shoots in succession as he swoops close to the attacker for a quick hook. The man readily dodges it. Jack comes in with another punch, but the assassin has already blocked it with his foot. He boots Jack straight in the stomach, sending him to the shelves with a back-breaking thud. Smoke and dust cover the top and bottom; torn papers and spilled ink line the floor. Jack feels like vomiting from the ink's noxious fumes. Roland's gonna be so mad when he sees this, Jack wipes the dust off his vest and aims the revolver. The dusty air obscures his vision, and before Jack can react, the assassin has already unsheathed. His katana flashes in the dim light as it slices through the air with lethal precision. The blade finds its mark, striking Jack with a force that sends him reeling backward, sprays of blood staining the dusty floorboards beneath him.

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Time seems to stand still for a moment as Jack's world spins in a blur of pain and confusion. His vision swims. His breath comes in ragged gasps as he struggles to comprehend the sudden onslaught. But even as darkness threatens to claim him, Jack's survival instincts kick in, driving him to fight. He kicks the bookshelf back and dashes for the front door. Outside, he sees a garbage truck approaching. With every ounce of strength left in him, he leaps onto the truck's backdoor and uses its handle to propel himself into the trash. At the very least, this should give him some cover.

Through sheer determination and grit, Jack lives, wheezing and gasping for air. As the sounds of chaos fade into the distance, he drifts into unconsciousness; his life hangs on the loose thread of fate.

Even in the depths of darkness, a glimmer of hope remains—a flicker of resilience that refuses to be extinguished. For Jack, the battle is far from over, and as long as there is breath in his body, he will continue to fight against the forces that seek to snuff out his light.

***

"Did you meet Jack?" Vincent ask. This time, he is drinking black coffee.

"I did," Zero replies. "He survived."

Vincent's grip tightens around his coffee cup. Zero can sense the bitter aroma filling the air, both the coffee's and Vincent's. For a moment, silence reigns supreme, broken only by the steady rhythm of their breaths.

"Survived, you say?" Vincent laughs. "Impressive. Jack's proven once again to be quite resilient, hasn't he?"

Zero nods in silent acknowledgment, a rare hint of respect crossing his features before he regains his composure.

"Perhaps," Zero replies. "I don't know how strong he is, but a smart fighter knows when to run. For that, I'll give him his praise."

Vincent sits down on his ornate leather chair. His index finger taps rhythmically as he considers the implication of Jack's survival. Eliminating him would be beneficial, yes, but for the last five years, not once has Vincent beat Jack at his own games. Even if his heists or missions went according to plan, Jack was always there to thwart it. Jack's very existence is a stain on his name, and yet, without Jack, Vincent is not sure if he wants to keep going. A game is always more fun when there are two players, after all.

"Well then," Vincent says with a mischievous grin, "our game has just become even more interesting. Let's see how Jack fares in the next round."

With that, Vincent finishes his black coffee. The bitter taste lingers on his tongue as he contemplates the challenges ahead. For in the world of shadows and secrets, only the strongest will emerge victorious.

***

SIA Agent Jack. Document his file.

Name: Jack (Surname Unknown)

Alias: None

Age: Approx. 25-27

Height: Approx. 6'0"

Build: Athletic

Appearance: Dark hair; piercing eyes; rugged features

Occupation: Undercover Agent/Intelligence Operative

Background:

Jack is a solitary figure whose past is surprisingly shrouded in secrecy. Little is known about his origins or early life, with even his true name remaining a mystery. He operates within the "SIA," an acronym for "Sentinel Intelligence Agency."

Jack's career as an undercover agent has taken him to the darkest corners of the criminal underworld, where he has infiltrated organized crime syndicates, terrorist cells, and other nefarious organizations. His skills as a master of disguise and deception have earned him a fearsome reputation among his adversaries and grudging respect among his colleagues.

Despite his proficiency in the field, Jack remains a solitary figure, with little to no known family or close ties to anchor him to the world outside of his work. All of his known relatives are either deceased or missing.

Known Associates:

Jack's contacts within the intelligence community are extensive, spanning across various agencies and jurisdictions. He has forged alliances with fellow operatives, analysts, and field agents, relying on their expertise and support to accomplish his missions.

However, Jack is also known for his reluctance to form personal attachments, preferring to keep his distance from others in order to protect himself and those around him. His solitary nature has earned him a reputation as a "lone wolf," operating outside the constraint of traditional protocols.

Special Notes:

Jack's formidable skills make him a valuable asset to the board, but also a potential liability due to his unpredictable tendency to take risks. He operates on the fringes of legality, bending the rules when necessary to achieve his objectives.

Despite the dangers inherent in his line of work, Jack remains committed to the pursuit of justice, using his talents to combat threats to national security and uphold the principles of law and order. His loyalty to the country and dedication to his mission are unwavering. Without a doubt, his presence remains a treasured asset to the nation.

End of File.