"Are you crazy? How did you get in here, you fuckers?!" a fat man yelled at the top of his lungs. He was dark-skinned, with thick fatty cheeks that jiggled with every word. Dressed sharply in a dark suit, he did not look more like a CEO than a man staring death in the face.
Two young men stood before him. One was taller than the other. That taller one was me.
I had long, white hair that gave me a striking appearance, almost ethereal. But the real heat didn't come from my looks—it burned inside me, literally. I wield flame as my power.
My name is Scar Dokus, and beside me stood my older brother, Drek Dokus, a cold bastard in every sense—emotionally and magically. His ice powers were just as lethal as my flames.
We were assassins. And not just the regular type—we were damn good at our job.
The fat man standing in front of us was Mokel Aleon, a corrupt business tycoon who owned one of the largest private finance companies in the city. We called him Dummy, and honestly, that name did fit him perfectly. The guy was brainless and arrogant. Worse? His security was absolute garbage. We sliced through his defenses like fire through dry grass.
"Shut up, you dummy!" Drek snapped, raising a pistol. Mokel froze instantly, his face draining of color. Oh! As to why we use guns, we didn't want to Central police on our nerves. The fact that Hybrid Assassins were rare was not a good . We couldn't broadcast ourselves openly.
"Pl-please…" Mokel stammered, tears welling in his eyes like beads of salt water ready to break.
"Just shut your freaking mouth!" Drek barked, his voice as sharp as icicles breaking from a ledge.
I watched in silence. I hated lingering around targets. Our creed was always the same—get in, eliminate, get out. But Drek? He had his own ideas. He brought me in on this mission, but the longer we stayed, the more I realized it was his personal job. I hated being part of games I didn't understand.
Drek stepped closer. Mokel shrank back, squealing like a cornered rat.
"Your goons are dead. It's just you, and us," Drek said calmly, cold air seeping into his tone, almost literally. A faint mist trailed from his hands—the ice magic inside him always responded to his emotions.
Mokel's Adam's apple bobbed. He knew it was over.
"I'll give you whatever you want! Anything! Just don't kill me! I swear!" Mokel pleaded, sweat sliding down his bloated face.
"Shut that darkhole you call a mouth, you asshole." Drek growled, pressing his gun to Mokel's forehead. "Now tell me—where's the safe?"
I clenched my fists. We were wasting time.
"Come on, we got to go," I said sharply.
"This is not your matter. Just find a fucking place to go to hell!" Drek snapped.
I swallowed the insult. He was older, and we'd been through enough to know when to speak and when to wait.
"Where's the safe?" he asked again, this time with a growl behind the words.
"Huh?"
WHACK!
Drek slammed the butt of his pistol into Mokel's head. Blood began to trickle down.
"WHERE. IS. THE. SAFE?"
Rusty Rasto, our client, had vaguely mentioned a safe in Mokel's building. Drek apparently took that mention seriously.
Mokel, holding his head, staggered to the wall and pressed a hidden panel. A metal compartment slid out from the wall. He typed in a code and a box-like metal safe emerged.
"My eight hundred thousand dollars," Drek whispered, almost reverently.
Mokel placed the safe on the desk and stared at us like a man who had handed his own shovel to the gravedigger.
"What's the password?" Drek demanded.
"Promise me you'll let me live after this," Mokel begged.
"Just tell me the password, freak!" Drek barked, ice flaring in his voice. A faint frost trailed down the gun.
"4…8…5…house."
I frowned. That password was too convenient. Something didn't feel right. It could be one of those super hybrid safes with silent alarms built-in.
"Drek, don't do it!" I warned.
Too late.
He typed in the code, and to my shock, it opened. No alarms, no gas, no booby traps. Just a bunch of crisp bills.
"Damn… He really is a dummy," I muttered. This man had no real security. No wonder our client wanted him gone.
Drek's eyes gleamed like an addict getting his fix. "I'm eight hundred thousand dollars richer!" he yelled.
"Come on, Drek. Let's go. You got what you wanted," I pleaded.
"Yeah… but first..." He cocked his pistol and pointed it at Mokel.
"You fucking bastard! I gave you the safe!" Mokel screamed.
"Yup. But I still got a job to do," Drek smirked.
"But I—"
RAKATAAAH!!!
The blast echoed through the office. Mokel dropped like a sack of meat, dead and heavy.
Drek closed the safe quickly and bolted for the door. Now he was in a hurry, more hurry than I was previously in. We sprinted down the hallway, past the limp bodies of Mokel's security team. My palms ignited slightly as I readied my flame. Always prepared.
We reached the stairwell—then stopped. Footsteps. Drek peeked ahead.
"Cops." he whispered.
I froze.
We turned and dashed back into Mokel's office. Drek slammed the door and locked it behind us. My heart pounded. He always caused chaos, and I always had to clean up the mess.
I walked to the window and stared out. A sea of police lights below. No escape that way.
Then I spotted a flat rooftop on the side of the skyscraper we were in.
"There. That's our only way out." I pointed.
I jumped through the window, swinging sideways to land on the roof—but it was weaker than I expected. I crashed through it, breaking through the roof top far easier than I had expected.
I groaned and looked up just in time to see Drek land beside me, more graceful. Moments later, two cops tried to follow.
RAKATAAAH! RAKATAAAH!
Drek shot them both. Their bodies fell like rag dolls to the ground below.
Then he pulled out a small device.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Eliminating witnesses." he replied with a cold grin. He set the time bomb and hurled it back into Mokel's office.
We bolted through the side doors. Thankfully, it wasn't residential, so no one stood in our way. We leaped from rooftop to rooftop. Just as we landed on the next building—
BOOOOOM!!!
The explosion ripped through the air behind us. Debris flew like shrapnel.
We were injured, but alive.
We got to the ground, and I pressed a button on my small AI remote. A sleek black car roared to life and pulled up beside us. It was custom-built, flame-resistant, ice-tuned, voice-controlled. Cost me a fortune.
We slid into the seats and vanished into the city while behind us, the police argued with the fire department about what had just happened.
We were safe. For now.
But something was off. Drek was silent beside me, counting the money with a satisfied grin.
I wasn't smiling.
Something told me we were only at the beginning.