Every joint in Kari’s body ached with each step while she moved through the smoke and fire. The entire off ramp and most of the road had been scorched—the smell of burning fuel only added to the severity of the situation. She had hobbled her way over the side of the road and eventually to an underpass just a few blocks away.

While lying low, she had taken notice of a familiar white van speeding towards her. Surely enough, Kurisu had been able to locate her. She had pulled the vehicle over to her and prompted her to enter. In moments, the two had made their way towards the hideout while the police had begun to move into the area. Kari had been quick trying to remove the wig and the shredded clothing.

“Did you get him?” Kurisu asked.

“Why are you here?” Kari replied, trying to keep her mind off the scene from before. She could not get the image of Patricia’s body sprawled across the seat. The crying of Isamu had begun to make her think of every other person she murdered before.

“I have my own job, and I was in the area.” Kurisu said again. She raised the question once more, “Did you get him?”

Kari had taken a moment to breathe before muttering, “No.”

Kurisu quickly shifted her head over as her face lit up. Her shocked expression had quickly turned into a grin before she returned focus to the road ahead of them. Kari had already tried to shut her out. This level of failure would be career ending—there were over a million dollars on this man’s head.

“I guess you can’t get them all.” Kurisu said after a sigh.

“I’m not in the mood.” She replied.

“This isn’t going to look good.”

“I don’t care.”

“What do you mean ‘I don’t care’,” she yelled over to Kari. “You know every failure affects all of us, not just you!”

What followed was a long quiet ride back to the hideout. The two had not exchanged any words or even shared eye contact. The hideout was far away from the city and near the forest on the outskirts. It had taken them a little over an hour to escape, although Kari knew what waited would most likely be the biggest ass chewing of her life.

The hideout itself was a small cabin. The front lawn had contained a couple broken down cars—which had been covered with rust. Grass had risen through the inside of the vehicles while the cabin itself had appeared to look like something out of a horror movie. Kurisu pulled the van up around the back of the hideout and under a small awning in the back.

There were three other people on the inside—all in the same crew. On the inside, she had been greeted. The first of the three was Joutoro, who had quite a history with theft and other assassinations. His arms had been covered with tattoos, stretching under his shirt and up towards his neck. Dozens word in plain English had been etched on his body like, “kill”, “water”, and others of the sort.

He had been seated in a wooden chair over in the corner of the living room while the other two had been posted around a table in the center. The other two—Brian and Andrew—were both dressed in two-piece suits almost like something out of mob movie. Andrew stared up at her for a moment, refusing to keep eye contact for too long. Kari had walked over to an empty chair across from them and sat down inside.

“We have a problem.” Kurisu said after safely shutting the door behind her. The eyes were on Kari now. She had tried to keep her head level but instead began to unbutton her flannel shirt. As she reached for the gun still holstered to her chest, the others flinched. Shock went through the room. She had finally pulled the weapon from its sling and laid it on the table in front of them.

“I’m done.” Kari finally spoke.

“Done? You mean like, you got him,” Brian said before leaning in towards her to continue, “what’s the problem?”

“Isamu Hinobu is still alive,” Kurisu had begun to address them. “We have a trail of blood and fire, and the contractor is not going to be seeking our assistance.”

Joutoro stood up out of his chair before starting to stomp his way over to them. He had started yelling something to Kurisu in Japanese and caused her to start shouting back in the same language.

“Hold on, we need to back up just a moment,” Andrew said aloud. He had tried everything to keep everybody focused and signaled over to Kari, then saying, “What do you mean you’re done?”

“I’m not doing this anymore.” Kari replied. The volume of the room had dropped with the spirits of the team.

“No—no—no,” Kurisu interjected. She slowly crept around Kari and glared at her as her face started to light up with rage. “This is not how this is supposed to end.”

“Consider it a lucky break, you can finally beat my record.”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Kurisu clenched her teeth. She had been overwhelmed with a combination of disgust and rage thinking of not having her around anymore.

Kurisu spoke again, “Do you think you can just leave the life and think that you can start over? What about the Way of The Gun? The money? You love this more than me.”

“I failed to get the target and killed somebody I wanted to spare. I will never shoot again.”

Three Years Later…

The Way of The Gun—Houshido—a code that all gunners followed. Kari had made an oath by blood after that day. Kurisu and the others were ashamed by the decision. The Masaru Crime Syndicate had lost much of their footing in the underworld, thus opening the vacuum in a way not expected. The other four of the team had not spoken to Kari since that day.

She had spent her days living a new life on a farm a few hours away from the city—choosing to go by the name Melanie for the family she had moved in with. What was once days of trying to find the next big score were instead spent trying to harness her newly found skills of farming. She had spent most of her days in the avocado fields trying to ensure they had enough for a harvest.

It was a change of pace that helped keep her mind off the events of that day. Three years had seemed to slip by without notice. Today she had found herself getting her first “off day” in months. They had already finished the summer harvest and managed to sell most of their stock. What little money Kari had received from this harvest had gone into her savings. With her trying to keep a low profile, the closest thing that she had to a bank account was a box. She had kept it in a small dresser inside one of the few “porta-houses” as they were commonly referred to by the crew.

Instead of having her own apartment, the cheap home from Bowes was going to have to do. It only cost one down payment, too. Once a day, she would be able to get a shower if she had a lucky break. There were not many showers on this farm, especially for a family and several employees living on the premises. Unlike the job from before, she still felt unfulfilled at the end of the day. The pay was not as good as she could have hoped, and she found herself living well below her means.

After a few hours of trying to organize her home, she had been approached by another one of the farmers. His name was Pablo—who had been in the country just as long as she had been out of the life.

“Knock-knock,” Pablo called out to her after knocking on the front door. It had already been wide open, so he had made his way into the small house. “I got your cut, Mel.”

“Shoes,” Kari chirped after seeing his muddy boots press onto the wooden floor. “I just swept.”

“Si, senor,” he took one step back before removing his straw hat. His overalls and flannel shirt had been caked with dirt. “My apologies, I’ll stand out here.”

“I thought senor meant ‘sir’?”

“I thought I would be what the college kids call, eh, progressive? Kidding, everybody thinks you’re a guy,” he had tried to laugh along, but had been met with a cutting glare from Kari. “That’s a joke.”

Kari rolled her eyes and asked, “What have you got for me?”

“Your cut,” he muttered while reaching into the pouch over his chest. He pulled out a small roll of twenty-dollar bills that had shimmered in the afternoon sun. “We got a pretty good haul this year. I was kidding, by the way.”

He tossed the roll of cash into the air and towards Kari’s face. She quickly slapped her hands together in front of her and grabbed the money out of the air. While she started to reach for the key around her neck, Pablo started to continue.

“You know we were talking about going to the bar tonight,” he chimed in again, “you should come with is, you need to get out once in a while.”

“What’s wrong with going to the diner once in a while?” she replied after pulling a small metal lockbox from the top drawer of her dresser. Without hesitation, she had opened the box and slipped the money through the small slit.

“We wanna go into the city.”

“You know how I feel about going to the city.”

“C’mon, you’re not a fugitive or anything. I wanted to buy you a drink or something. We only do this once a year.”

Kari knew exactly what city they were talking about. Paradiso was a few hours away and one of the desired spots for young bachelors like Pablo.

“I’ll think about it.” Kari said back to him, locking the money away without making eye contact with him.

“Come on, just this once,” Pablo begged once again. “We leave in half an hour, that’s plenty of time to get dolled up.”

“What am I supposed to wear then?”

“Surprise me, heh-heh,” his face lit up as he started to walk backwards. After tapping the wooden railing on the front side of the house, he quickly said, “Meet us out front!”

Kari sighed after seeing him starting to high tail it towards the farm. She had been wary of the thought of going back into the city. It was not really clear what would happen if she set a foot in Masaru territory, but she could not help but imagine what would happen.

They let me walk away, and I’m not stepping on anybody’s turf, she thought while starting to look back through her dressed. Once again, she opened the top of the lockbox to neatly rest her cash. The inside of the small metal box had been filled with dozens of stacks of hundreds—money spanning back years. She left the game behind, but the blood money was still money. There was a small hint of concern still lingering over her, so she started to peel away at the stacks of cash to reveal one of her Glocks stashed away with a clip.

That’s not my life anymore. I’m going to get a few drinks and maybe crash at a hotel; she continued in her head. After pulling out a couple grand in hundreds, she snapped the case shut and looked down inside the dresser to see an old familiar set of clothes, finally saying, “Why the hell not?”