Chapter 18: Learning the Trade
Léon: The Professional was one of the first films Jake had really studied. He remembered watching it years ago; back then, he hadn't paid much attention to filmmaking techniques. Even though considerable time had passed since he'd watched the film, certain scenes remained vivid in his memory.
The story takes place in New York. The hitman Léon works for Tony, taking contracts for him. When he works, his precision, his efficiency—everything about his craft is impressive and captivating. After completing jobs, he becomes an ordinary person—someone who enjoys drinking milk, tending plants, and keeps to himself.
By chance, in Léon's apartment building, his neighbors are targeted by corrupt narcotics officers over stolen drugs, resulting in the massacre of the entire family. Only Mathilda, a 12-year-old girl, escapes because she'd gone out shopping. Upon returning home and discovering the horrific scene, Mathilda is forced to seek help from her neighbor, Léon.
She discovers his profession and begs him to help her get revenge. When Léon refuses, she asks him to train her so she can do it herself.
Thus, a mature 12-year-old girl and a reclusive middle-aged professional who barely interacted with others—two people who would never have crossed paths—come together and develop a unique bond that resembles both friendship and family.
This premise seemed impossible, but director Luc Besson used the film's runtime to make it feel completely natural, so much so that Jake had been genuinely moved by the end.
The yellow taxi stopped in front of the apartment building. Jake struggled to lift the forty-pound black case from the car.
"Third floor," he muttered to himself and dragged the case toward the stairs. This old apartment building didn't have an elevator.
When Jake finally made it to the third floor, he saw a short-haired girl in casual clothes sitting on the stairs with a cigarette.
He recognized her immediately—it was Mathilda, the female lead. Before her family's tragedy, she was just a rebellious, precocious kid.
They exchanged a brief glance without speaking. Mathilda, however, kept staring at Jake, probably wondering why someone would bring such a large case to this rundown building.
He offered a slight smile and nodded in greeting.
Looking at the address on the paper, Jake walked to a door, set down his case, straightened his clothes, and prepared to knock.
"You know him?" A girl's voice came from behind Jake, making him pause. He turned to see Mathilda had stood up, her cigarette now replaced by a lollipop.
"Yeah," Jake nodded.
"He doesn't talk much. He's kind of weird. What are you doing here?" The curiosity in the girl's eyes was obvious.
"He's connected to a friend of mine. I just got to New York and needed a place to crash for a bit," he said, gesturing to his black case.
"I gotta say, this place sucks," she said, touching her left cheek where a noticeable bruise showed. "If I had the chance, I'd be out of here in a heartbeat."
"Everyone's got their own perspective," Jake shrugged, ending the brief conversation.
With that done, Jake knocked on the door.
A moment later, the door opened, and Léon appeared.
"You must be the guy Tony called about," Léon's voice was measured but clear enough that Mathilda, still watching from down the hall, could hear.
"That's right."
"Come in," Léon nodded, stepping aside.
It was a modest apartment with a kitchen, bathroom, and living room. The most notable feature was the collection of potted plants scattered throughout.
Following Léon's gesture, Jake placed his case on the table, and the two sat across from each other.
"I don't know why you want to learn this work," Léon looked at Jake with an almost paternal concern, "but I promised Tony I'd teach you."
"I appreciate it," Jake said.
Why had Jake agreed when Tony suggested learning from Léon? Because Léon possessed extraordinarily refined skills—techniques refined enough to outmaneuver multiple trained tactical teams.
"Name's Jake," he introduced himself simply.
"Léon," the professional replied with characteristic brevity.
After a brief introduction, Jake was granted permission to stay at Léon's apartment. Due to his profession, Léon had developed a habit of sleeping in a chair rather than the bed, always staying alert. Thus, Jake had the luxury of using the actual bed.
"I'll teach you the fundamentals—from movement, disguise, firearms, close combat, to execution... nothing will be overlooked, but I have requirements." With that, Léon opened Jake's large black case and quickly assembled a revolver, releasing the safety and pointing it casually at the wall near Jake. "Don't bring trouble to my door, or this arrangement ends immediately."
"First, you'll learn how to fieldstrip this weapon and reassemble it." Léon spun the revolver professionally, then handed it to Jake.
Taking the gun, Jake didn't waste words. He understood that before meeting Mathilda, Léon was simply a solitary professional who avoided interaction. His demeanor now meant he wanted to complete this training quickly and move on.
This suited Jake's intentions perfectly. After taking the gun, Jake began attempting to disassemble it, but clearly couldn't find the release points.
Léon, unable to watch the fumbling any longer, took the pistol back and manipulated it expertly. In seconds, the gun was fieldstripped into components. "Pay attention," he said, then quickly reassembled it.
Holding the weapon that had just been disassembled and reassembled so efficiently, Jake began examining it closely, trying to commit the process to memory. Unfortunately, Léon's movements had been too fast, and Jake had no background with firearms. He managed only a few steps before getting stuck.
"I have to ask—are you the same person who walked in here two hours ago?" Léon looked at Jake, who had completely mastered the disassembly and assembly of every weapon in the case in just two hours, his expression showing genuine surprise.
From someone who couldn't even hold a gun properly to proficiently fieldstripping firearms in just two hours? What was this, science fiction?
Obviously, Léon had never seen a film called Limitless, nor did he know about a drug that could temporarily transform someone into a fast learner.
Jake smiled, unable to explain much. "What's next?"
"Hand-to-hand fundamentals." Léon scratched his head, perhaps surprised by Jake's rapid progress. Teaching someone who learns this quickly is challenging for any instructor, because they constantly disrupt your planned curriculum. "I'll arrange range time for tomorrow."
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