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It is night time. Dim lights escape from the windows of a particular mansion.

An annoyed intruder was stealthily moving along in the mansion's back garden. He attributed his annoyance to what he was wearing. He wore a head-to-toe special body suit called the Chameleon Special and carried a light invisible backpack. Basically, he was wearing everything included in the Invisible Assassin's Kit he bought from Gobi, the giant online retailer.

The suit's effect was very impressive. His entire body was invisible to everyone watching him from over a meter away. Within a meter, the watcher would more likely suspect some dust in his eye than recognize the intruder. Its only defect was that the suit was intensely hot for the wearer and this greatly irritated the intruder. Of course, it was well-known that all Gobi products would at least carry one defect.

They would not have bought from Gobi if they had more time to plan the mission.

At this point, the annoyed intruder had made it to his planned destination. He was leaning to the wall right next to the main back door of the mansion. Of course, considering his invisibility, there was little purpose in staying close to the wall, but some things have procedures.

He took out a tiny bomb from his backpack and planted it on the door. Then he took a couple steps back.

According to the plan, his co-conspirator would remotely cut off the electricity to the mansion the same time he blasts the door open. In the confusion that ensues, the intruder would quickly head to the main bedroom, shoot his panicking target, then make his escape to the black car waiting for him outside. It was a crude plan but it gets the job done.

The invisible young man whispered for his invisible Gobi earpiece to pick up.

“Agent Purple, are you ready?”

The intruder waited for a response in his earpiece.

10 seconds...

20 seconds...

At this point, the dreadful heat from the suit, his absent partner, and the fact that he is missing precious sleep time, pushed the intruder's annoyance to a near boiling rage.

“Ready,” said a voice in his earpiece.

The intruder rolled his invisible eyes. Finally! Next time, he's not going to let the lazy bastard get a cool nickname like Agent Purple. Agent Pink perhaps.

The frustrated intruder moved his hand to press...

Something didn't feel right.

As hastily as the plan was made, the two conspirators had devoted half their time to deciding code names. After intense debate, he had settled for agent black and his partner for agent purple. Now, in the moment that counted most, why would his partner miss out on calling him by his code name. It defied logic!

Slowly, the invisible man moved his hand away from the- Bang!

A terrible pain bursted from his right torso!

As the intruder fell crippled in pain, his mind became deafeningly calm.

Ah....I wasn't annoyed at the heat...

Everything moved at a snail's pace.

...I was annoyed....

His mind raced at ten times its normal speed.

...at how stupid this plan is.

Thud. Rabin hits the ground.

As Rabin writhed in pain, blood oozed from his gunshot wound. The shot had damaged the Chameleon Special and he was no longer invisible.

A portly man in an expensive business suit stepped out from the shadows into the garden.

“Next time, if you have a next time, you should change the default frequency on your Gobi earpiece. One press of a button and its hacked. Also, your suit is generating so much heat, we were practically blinded when looking at you with our thermal goggles.”

Rabin didn't reply. He needed to conserve his strength. Luckily, he wasn't hit anywhere fatal. In fact, Rabin was still more annoyed about the heat from his suit than his gunshot wound. Thankfully... or not, the heat was also decreasing.

The mysterious man spoke again, “Hmmm. You know, I've always liked you and hoped we can work together again.”

The portly man's face looked genuinely concerned. His overall appearance was friendly and attractive, with no hint of being insincere. His expression, posture, and voice all point to him being a man of feeling and intelligence. Indeed, he looked like that favorite uncle, whom many young children secretly wish was their father.

But Rabin knew the true nature of this man.

“Let me die in piece, Berjustin.”

“Die?” The slightly chubby man looked shocked, “No, no, no. You aren't going to die, Rabin. Both you and I know you're too strong to die from a single gunshot wound.”

Berjustin reached under his suit's lapel. He pulled out a gun.

“That's why I've come closer to give you three more.” He pointed the gun at Rabin.

“Wait,” shouted Rabin, he had to stall for time. There was hope that his partner from far away might still be able to do something.

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“I can tell you where Carlos Dump is.”

Five days ago, the city police finally gathered enough evidence to incriminate Carlos Dump. That same night, they raided Dump Tower with an arrest warrant. Carlos, however, was nowhere to be found. The media went ballistic. They filled pages after pages, extras after extras, speculating about the disappearance of their favorite celebrity. The whole city was in an uproar.

Berjustin's eyes tightened, his gun pointed straight at Rabin's face. “How do I know you'll tell me the truth?”

“You can't,” said Rabin very weakly. He was starting to find it hard to stay awake, “But you do know I don't like getting shot, so you can trust that.”

Berjustin sternly nodded.

“Where is he?”

“Canada-” Bang!

Hard dirt flew in Rabin's face. A shot was fired inches from his head.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” Rabin hurriedly shouted, his handsome face turned pathetic as he appealed for mercy. “I thought you like pointless banter. We used to have so many laughs.”

“I do. But I also believe there are times for solemnity, like your possible death.” Berjustin's grave face remained unchanged.

“One last time. Where is he?”

Rabin's eyes darted back and forth. There was no sign of his partner. His earpiece was silent.

“He's in... He's in...”

Truly panicking now, Rabin grasped for words that could save him.

“He's in... He's in... Fucksville! Screw you, Berjustin! You traitor. We treated you like family. We trusted you with our finances. Then you go and fuck with the gangs, dragging us with you. Finally, when it mattered most, you betray us and laid all the trouble on us. Why?! Just because you wanted to play your sick games. Just you because you were, and I heard you say it, bored! You fucking psychopath! Fuck you!”

Large tears were streaming down Rabin's face now. He hated himself for being so emotional. Throughout it all, Berjustin remained impassioned.

“Are you done?”

Seeing that the defeated Rabin wasn't going to say another word, Berjustin answered his own question. “Then I guess I'm done too.”

Berjustin cocked his gun.

Rabin looked up and then everything became dark.

*****************************************************

After three whole minutes, the city lights turned back on. In the mansion's back garden, Berjustin had not moved from his spot, his attractive face was thoughtful.

Immediately in front of him, with his back turned, stood a large muscular man in full combat gear. His hands tightly gripping his revolver. His thermal goggled eyes sifting for any movements.

“I think that's enough, Barnie,” said Berjustin.

The man eased up a little bit. He turned to face Berjustin.

“I apologize, Mr. Bie,” the armored man said in a deep voice, “I was not sure if he had any more allies and so could not risk giving chase, leaving you undefended here.”

“What happened?” asked Berjustin.

“When the city blacked out, a single man came and grabbed Rabin. If he came closer to you I would have sniped him but he didn't. He was fast and seemed quite skilled. Possibly a hired professional.”

Berjustin nodded. “I think I have an idea who that might have been.”

After a moment, Berjustin yawned. “Well, thank you for your work here, Barnie. You've protected me excellently, you may go now.”

However, the large man did not move.

“Is there something else, Barnie?”

“Mr. Bie,” Barnie tried to phrase his words as respectfully as he could, “It's just... We had already received intel that Carlos Dump had escaped to Samara, the virtual game. Yet, just then you acted like you didn't know...”

Berjustin blinked once at Barnie, then he suddenly bursted into a hearty laugh.

“I'm sorry, Barnie. I forgot you were listening from the earpiece. Well, as for your question, I couldn't just kill the boy could I. I needed an excuse to spare him and also to drag the conversation long enough till his friend could save him.”

Barnie's large rough face looked comically puzzled. “Why?”

“Well, Barnie,” and as Berjustin spoke his face became serene and his eyes lost its usual gayness. Instead, his eyes became deep and piercing, so much so that Barnie felt a slight shiver.

“I'm not a murderer. I'm an investor. I invest in people. And the boy is interesting so I invested in him. That is all.”

Berjustin gave a wave to indicate the conversation was over and walked away.

Barnie, a trained killer, bowed his head towards the direction of his employer. His bow lasted a brief second longer than usual.

He was wondering when the last time was when he actually felt fear towards another man.