I picked up the egg that laid next to my limp body. It felt warm to the touch, though its scales were sharp and oddly uncomfortable to hold.

Where had it come from?

I focused on it, but no notification came to me. It was as if it was some kind of anomaly that even the system wasn’t aware of. Either that or the system was just being an asshole and refusing to tell me about it.

Something about the egg seemed to draw me in, I wanted it and I felt like, somehow, it wanted me as well.

“That was a close one,” Sally said through staggered breaths. “Is everyone alive?”

“I’m fine,” Panda said with an air of disbelief, “I don’t have a scratch on me.”

“I can’t heal,” I said feebly, my dry throat croaking out the words.

“Why?” Sally and Panda asked in unison.

“I used an item to temporarily increase my HP back at the cathedral,” I replied, “the backlash from it is that I can’t heal for an hour after using it. My health is in the red and I took a pretty nasty hit from Clive’s purple force slash thing.”

“A minor setback,” Sally said nonchalantly, “we’re safe now, so as long as you don’t die before that timer runs out you can heal as normal then. Bell, how are you doing?”

The fire mage replied with a snore.

I guess she’s alright then, I thought.

Somehow, we’d all survived Asquith Town. It felt like a Christmas Miracle.

I longed to know what would hatch from the egg, but first I’d need to rest.

***

Jack sat idly at a small café in Castalor, the largest trade city on the central continent.

He had been ordered to meet with an important man there on behalf of his god, Diako, who naturally, popped in and out of his mind to keep tabs on him.

… He is one of our most valued clients Jack, the god whispered into The Reaper’s mind, I cannot stress how important it is to keep up appearances around him.

“Which is why I can’t understand why you’re sending me,” Jack complained, whispering into his drink so as not to draw attention. “I’m great at killing people through a scope, I can do CQB in a pinch, but all this sneaky beaky stuff isn’t really my strong suit.”

Missions like these are what your class was made for and you know it. You ned to stop dwelling on your past life and start embracing your new one. Now go and fulfil your mission.

With a sigh, Jack rose from his seat at the outdoor table, dropping a single gold piece for his drink, and walked the busy streets of Castalor.

The city was quite the culture shock for the Earthen man as so much of it seemed mismatched to him. Amidst the glass skyscrapers which dominated the skyline, there were also boardwalks and clay buildings.

In the centre of town was a middle eastern bazar, which certainly was bizarre in that it was located in an otherwise western setting. He’d also heard that it rained blood here, though he hadn’t seen a single drop so far.

Off to the side of the bazar was Jack’s target.

It was a large palace compound with multiple roofs made of ostentatious golden plated domes that reminded him of the Taj Mahal. Sitting in the centre of the domed palace building was a tower which seemed to crest even the clouds.

It was shaped like a sail from one of those windsurfing boards that attractive assholes rode through the waters of small island nations. That conjured some bad memories for Jack as he remembered catching his second wife in bed with one of those exact same assholes.

He’d spent nearly three weeks in a foreign prison for what he’d done to that ponytail-having asshole before the agency had him released. Naturally, his leave privileges were revoked for quite some time after that fiasco.

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His objective lay at the very top of the tower, the penthouse suite of some rich dude who held power over the city.

Supposedly this guy had far surpassed the level cap, but thankfully, this wasn’t an assassination mission.

Jack had chosen his café wisely as it gave him a clear line of sight to the palace gate and the guards who controlled it.

Having memorised their patrol patterns and mannerisms already, what came next should have been child’s play.

The Reaper activated one of his skills.

Faceless Man:

With this ability you can change your face, voice and clothing to an exact copy of someone you have seen before.

This is an illusion skill and the glamour will fail should someone grow too suspicious of you whilst the skill is active.

This is a high-cost mana skill.

Jack had tested this skill numerous times before and had learnt that he needed to copy his victim’s mannerisms and way of talking if he wanted to blend in.

Thankfully, the glamour also changed his voice to match theirs as long as he had heard it. Though it did not change how he spoke. Copying a person’s speech was harder than he had expected, though through diligent practice, he was getting quite good at it.

The guard he had studied was about to change shifts with the next guard on the rotation and, as expected, when he did, he walked happily into town to grab a drink.

Jack had been staking out the palace for a few days now and had memorised the guard’s schedule, so he was confident that his plan would go smoothly.

Stepping out from the crowd he was hidden in; he activated faceless man and strode towards the new guard who had taken over the watch.

In an instant he’d traded his trench coat for a silver breast plate, a red headband and a red wrap which hung nicely around his waist. It was an odd mix of medieval European soldier’s attire and middle eastern robes.

“Jiriyah,” the bearded guard who had taken over from Jack’s mark said. “What are you doing, your shift is over?”

“Apologies, I left my coin purse in the guard house,” Jack replied in Jiriyah’s voice, “I’ll only be a minute.”

“Well hurry up,” the guard said moodily, “the lieutenant will have both of our heads if he finds us breaking protocol like this. You know you’re not allowed inside the premises when you’re off duty.”

“I’ll only be a minute,” Jack smiled, “thanks Mark.”

He brushed passed his pretend colleague quickly and made a beeline towards the guard house. As soon as Mark turned back to watch the civilians outside the gate, Jack changed directions and headed through the central courtyard.

A few nights ago he had taken up a vantage point on the roof of the nearby church of Athena. It gave him brilliant sight lines into the interior of the palace compound and, thanks to his rifle’s scope, he’d been able to see and then memorise the layout.

Jiriyah walked towards the base of the tower, knowing that confidence was key. His uniform was that of a guard and not of a bodyguard, but it was close enough that he hoped no one would notice.

All he had to do was act as if he belonged.

It was easier said than done, he was an assassin, a fighter, a long-range sniper, not a sneak thief – despite what Diako would have him believe.

Soldiers, in similar but not identical uniforms to his, passed by on all sides. They seemed pretty casual, but Jack knew that they were patrolling.

The guy Diako had called a most valued client was one of the most powerful men on the continent and, despite his personal power, he had one of the tightest security details Jack had seen since arriving in Celestia.

Thankfully, they paid him no attention as he slipped through the sliding glass doors at the bottom of the tower.

He breathed out.

Now he could begin phase two: reaching the penthouse.

The foyer seemed to be open to soldiers and guards, but men in black suits guarded the mana-lift to the next floor. Thankfully, with a little help from his contacts, he had prepared for that too.

With purpose, Jack marched down the corridor to the right and, when no one was looking, ducked into the maintenance tunnels.

A friend of Jack’s at the organisation had provided him with blueprints of the tower which had helped him formulate this part of his plan. The tunnels acted as little rat runs for the help to use to fix problems without cluttering up the place.

Apparently this was commonplace on the continent.

Despite his own misgivings about the attitudes of the rich and powerful, these tunnels were the linchpin to his plan’s overall success.

He squeezed down them, barely able to fit his wide shoulders between the closed in walls, until he reached his target: the back of the mana-lift.

There were multiple mana-lifts in the building which all gave access to the many floors which the tower had. However, there was only one lift which gave access to the penthouse.

The golden one.

Which, in Jack’s humble opinion, told him everything he needed to know about the asshole who lived there.

Thankfully though, it made his job easier.

From the back of the golden elevator, Jack hoisted himself on top and waited.

He meditated as he waited for his mark to return, a skill he hadn’t yet mastered but was certain he would with practice. By the time the elevator finally moved, he’d been able to completely restore his stamina.

It was a long ride to the top and Jack had to time his movements just right.

Mana-lifts do not work like Earthen elevators, they don’t need cables. That means that when you reach the top, if you’re stood on top of one like Jack was, you get crushed.

Taking a deep breath, Jack channelled his stamina into his legs and as the lift closed in on the penthouse, he jumped.

He grabbed onto the doors and pried them open, slipping inside just as the lift whooshed past him.

“That was a close one,” he said casually as he dropped the persona granted to him by his faceless man skill.

Calmly, Jack strolled into the penthouse office and took a seat behind the desk of the most powerful man in Castalor, if not the entire continent.

With a ding, the elevator opened its doors and a good-looking black man in a very expensive suit waltzed in, stopping suddenly as he noticed the trench coat wearing assassin sitting in his chair.

“Mr Regina,” Jack said, spinning the chair around to face his target, “Diako sends his regards.”