The night before the mission, I didn't sleep a wink. I stared at the photo of the target all night long. I had no clue about his grudges or hatred towards anyone. All I knew was that at his age, he must have a wife and kids, yet he was about to meet his end. This marked my first assignment. I'm not usually a heartless person. Some have said that when I'm boxing, I transform into a crafty tiger. I don't think comparing a tiger to cunning is quite right. They meant it as a compliment, but I still don't find it flattering.

The target was due to dine with someone at a French restaurant on G Road at 7 p.m. the next night. This restaurant had two parking lots: one across the street and another three stories underground. Since the underground garage lacked an elevator, most people parked across the street. Fewer cars filled the underground lot, as who would want to descend into the eerie depths alone to park their car and then climb back up stairs? So, I figured he would likely come from across the street. This was crucial for me because the location of the operation was top priority, directly impacting my chances of a smooth getaway once the mission was complete.

I completely disassembled the gun and checked it over, it was brand new, never fired. After reassembling it, loading it with bullets, chambering a round, and checking for any jams, the gun was good to go. I opted not to use those high-powered Magnum bullets since I might need to engage up close. I didn't want a bullet passing through him and hitting someone else. That night, I was on edge, breathing heavily, unable to calm down for a moment. My hand gripped the gun constantly, for any release meant losing security. As dawn broke, I ordered breakfast to be delivered and the waiter's gaze made me paranoid – at that point, everything seemed like a threat.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

After breakfast, I decided to catch some sleep because lack of sleep causes delays in reaction times by 0.5 to 1.5 seconds, and I couldn't afford any delay. I set the alarm for 4 p.m., feeling physically drained but mentally racing. My mind wandered in all directions – what to wear for the operation, when the next mission might come, and so on. Eventually, I dozed off.

The alarm didn't go off, I woke naturally but with a racing heart, a sign of extreme tension and unease. Glancing at the clock – 3:15, I got up, showered, got ready, and by 3:40, I was set.

I couldn't arrive at the operation site too early to avoid unnecessary suspicion and prolonged exposure. I double-checked the gun, added the silencer, and dressed as inconspicuously as possible, aiming to blend in and not draw any attention. I won't claim to have exceptional charisma or a perfect physique, but I do have a certain charm.

Opting for casual attire in the scorching morning heat, I couldn't hide the gun on me, so it went into a camera bag. Sitting on the couch, watching the seconds tick by on the clock, my alarm suddenly went off, startling me and causing a cold sweat. I chuckled at my own reaction, thinking, "Come on, T, really? You're better than this."

I turned on the TV to ease my nerves, only to find a shootout scene playing out, further unsettling me. I shut off the TV and headed out.