His to-do list grew shorter with every name he crossed off.
Of course, there were still far too many names left on it, but Noctis had no desire to keep heading out over and over again just to thin them out. Especially knowing that many more lists would follow.
The faster he eliminated them all, the better.
Tired, he rubbed his eyes and glanced at his phone.
In fact, he hadn't been away that long at all. He had said goodbye to Isaac only about thirteen hours earlier, and yet in that time he had already erased three more names from existence. For a brief moment, he allowed himself a break, grabbed something to eat, and sent his lover a short message letting him know he was okay.
His beloved probably wouldn't sleep until he got a reply anyway.
Afterward, he went through his list.
Fortunately, two of his targets had been together when he had only expected one. He didn't believe he'd be blessed with that kind of luck again. Still, he was willing to take his chances.
So... which one of you little bastards is hanging around near me right now?
He quickly scanned through the profiles until one caught his attention—a man who actually conducted his little dealings relatively close by on a regular basis. Noctis got up and set off. Once he'd killed him, he would go home, take a shower, and sleep. After all, his beloved worried about him, and he shouldn't be spending nights wandering around outside all the time.
If there was no need to spend the night anywhere other than his own bed, he wouldn't do it if he could help it. He preferred leaving as early as possible each day and killing as many people as he could before nightfall.
That way, he could spend more time with Isaac and work through more of his list.
He threw away the trash from his meal and headed toward the place where his potential victim might be. Noctis gave himself a maximum of two hours to wait. Any longer would be pointless, and besides, there were still far too many people around.
Noctis had set out around eight in the morning; by now it was just after nine at night.
Maybe he should just quickly check whether the little bastard was actually there. Talk to him, lure him away, and then kill him. Or simply drive a knife into his forehead before disappearing.
He was tired. Normally, he killed one or two people a day, and there were good reasons for that. Not only was preparing for a murder exhausting, but so was the waiting. Noctis was a professional. That didn't mean he could maintain his concentration twenty-four hours a day.
He needed breaks too. He needed distractions, and his favorite place to find them was with Isaac, so he could approach the next assignment with a clear mind. Or whatever he wanted to call it. In any case, Isaac's presence alone helped calm him down. And if that happened to include a little—or a lot of—sex, all the better.
Of course, his thoughts immediately drifted to all the things he had done with his beloved the night before. Truthfully, he was always thinking about Isaac. The only times he probably wasn't were when he was killing someone.
Darling is still the best—and only—drug I'll ever need in my life.
But this really wasn't the right moment to get lost in a daydream. No matter how good it felt to think about Isaac. He sighed and reminded himself of what Vincent had written down.
His target was a little bastard named Derek. Noctis didn't care about his age, gender, or personal preferences. What interested him, however, was the fact that he was about a head shorter than Noctis and at least twenty kilograms heavier—possibly even thirty. Which would make disposing of the body more difficult. The guy was out of shape, and there was no record of him knowing any form of self-defense.
That was probably why Vincent had specified that the death should look random. Noctis couldn't make it too obvious or too professional. So it would have to be bloody and, above all, messy. Meaning he'd probably be best off burning his clothes afterward.
The guy carried a pistol, which was something Noctis would have to keep in mind. Though, naturally, he intended to make use of the element of surprise. Or perhaps he should play with the short, fat bastard a little before killing him?
If Derek put up a fight, he could always fire off a few shots. At the very least, that would prove he had tried to defend himself.
He tried to remember what crime the guy had committed, but quickly abandoned the thought. He neither cared nor considered it important.
When Noctis was finished with him, he'd be dead, and that was the only thing that mattered in the end.
So he focused instead on what he was about to do to Derek.
His route led him to a park in the heart of Magnolia. It was centrally located and enormous, naturally attracting dealers and petty criminals who preferred conducting their business in the shadows beneath the trees.
For one thing, operating in organized groups allowed them to keep watch over several entrances and exits in case the cops showed up, while also making it easy to change locations repeatedly. Noctis didn't particularly like the park. During the day, it was beautiful. But there were too many open areas, and in bright light he could easily be spotted.
So he strolled into the park like any ordinary man with no particular destination, pretending to be a regular pedestrian. Aside from the gloves he wore, he looked like someone who simply had a somewhat extravagant sense of style.
In fact, in his killer outfit, he looked far too respectable. He showed very little skin and always wore gloves. On top of that, he wore a hooded jacket. It was fastened only with snap buttons, so if anyone tried to grab him by it, the buttons would simply come undone rather than causing him trouble.
If he was being honest, he could just as easily go out in his everyday clothes and kill his targets. After all, he almost never ended up in an actual fight.
He pulled up his hood and wandered along the path.
Fortunately, it was relatively dark, and his clothing was black. He could smell the blood already staining his clothes.
But no one would be able to see it.
He was looking forward to a hot shower once he got back to the hideout.
Crossing four people off his list in half a day was an achievement that more than earned him a night off and a long sleep. After all, that was the kind of productivity he would normally achieve over the course of three days.
He had already walked through half the park when he finally spotted his target.
The man was standing a short distance off the path, talking to someone. In the darkness, Noctis couldn't clearly see what they were doing, but it didn't matter. The guy was one of the larger dealers in the area. So the two of them were almost certainly doing exactly what one would expect.
Noctis abandoned the idea of observing him for a while first. The park was far too open for that, and he probably couldn't climb a tree unnoticed as easily as he imagined. There were too many eyes hidden in the shadows, and Noctis wasn't sure how many of them were watching him.
So he simply stopped, pretended to be playing a game on his phone, and when Derek's customer finally left, Noctis approached him.
He could put him to sleep, but that wasn't what the assignment called for. If someone happened to be watching, the name Sandman would soon start circulating. He preferred to save Isaac's last card for a situation where Derek's friends followed him or he found himself in trouble.
He studied his target carefully.
Contrary to expectations, the man was even heavier than anticipated. A stab to the stomach wouldn't kill him, and Noctis couldn't be sure of hitting the right spot anyway. His gaze shifted to the man's chest. He could reach the heart. But what if he couldn't drive the blade in deeply enough? His knife might be too short.
Though, in truth, he had little doubt that he could kill the little bastard with a stab to the heart. It would simply require more force. That wasn't really a problem, but an average junkie typically didn't possess the same strength that Noctis did.
An irritated snort escaped him.
He needed to kill him quickly and, ideally, on the spot. As long as Noctis wasn't certain the man was dead, the job wasn't finished.
He could shoot him, but he was better with a knife.
So what other options did he have?
His gaze continued to roam over the man, assessing the vital points. But the longer he looked at him, the more disgusted he became. Even beneath the streetlight, Noctis could see how unhealthy his skin looked. His hair was greasy, and various food stains marked his white T-shirt.
Damn. He's ugly.
Then again, as far as Noctis was concerned, nobody came remotely close to Isaac. When it came to beauty and aesthetics, Isaac was the absolute ideal of a human being.
His gaze lingered on his victim's neck.
Hmm... the neck could work.
His eyes traveled higher.
Or his eyes.
At the very least, those would be two very definitive ways to kill the guy, regardless of how much excess flesh he carried in all the wrong places.
"Kill him the way an amateur would. It has to look random so the others don't grow suspicious."
Those had been Vincent's instructions.
Noctis suppressed a sigh. Sometimes the simple jobs were far more difficult than the complicated ones.
And if he was honest, the orders made sense. There was still far too much scum in Magnolia that needed to be cleaned up. If they started slaughtering people indiscriminately in the Webster Clan's name, the remaining rats would simply retreat back into their holes.
And then the hunt would become tedious.
He really had no desire to spend the next ten years dragging all those rats out of hiding. It would be nice if he could wipe out everyone his brother wanted dead in one decisive stroke. Or at least if there were a little more torture involved now and then. Torture was far more interesting than the assassinations he carried out, which usually only happened when his targets were asleep or trapped inside an illusion.
But you couldn't have everything.
He was already working out the details of the kill in his head.
This was going to be far too easy.
Derek noticed him when he was still about three meters away.
"I've never seen you around here before. Need something?"
His voice irritated Noctis immediately.
Just as much as the look with which he sized him up.
Fuck it.
He walked straight toward his target, and with one flawless movement of his hand, he slashed his throat with deadly precision before continuing on. Noctis had driven the blade so deeply into the man's neck that he had nearly severed it. Derek's protests dissolved into wet gurgling sounds, and moments later Noctis heard the heavy body hit the ground.
But Noctis was already long gone.
That had been far too impulsive.
Still, whatever.
He hadn't felt like dealing with the bastard any longer than necessary. What he really wanted was to get back to Isaac and curl up in bed with him.
He wiped the blood from the blade onto his pants and completely ignored the gurgling sounds behind him.
He would definitely have to burn those clothes.
Was Isaac still angry with him?
Maybe he had calmed down by now, and they could pick up where they had left off. Otherwise, Noctis would tease him until he gave in.
The thought alone sent a pleasant thrill through him.
Noctis loved drawing out Isaac's reactions. No matter what he did to him, Isaac always reacted intensely.
In a much better mood, he started making his way back.
Behind him, someone suddenly began shouting. Then came louder cries, and from all directions the friends of his victim seemed to be converging on the spot where Noctis had killed the little pig.
At least he hadn't had to touch him. That really would have been disgusting.
Keeping to the shadows, he left the park. No one stopped him, and nobody on the street paid him any special attention. Those who crossed his path stepped aside, allowing him to continue undisturbed. He turned into the next alley to take a shortcut.
Noctis hadn't gotten far when he suddenly spotted a man sitting ahead of him in the passageway. The man raised an arm, and Noctis caught the brief metallic glint that revealed a pistol aimed directly at him.
Before the man could even fire, Noctis moved.
The shot echoed dully through the alley.
His opponent was using a suppressor, which made it highly likely that this was a professional killer sent after him. In fact, Noctis already had a good idea of who had hired him.
The bullet struck the spot where he had been standing moments earlier.
With calm precision, the attacker tracked Noctis's movements.
His heart beat faster.
It had been a long time since he'd been able to enjoy a genuine challenge.
If he wanted to take down the other assassin, he would have to get closer. In close combat, Noctis was unbeatable. That was probably why they had sent a shooter after him.
The gunman fired again.
And once more he missed as Noctis twisted aside.
Noctis immediately lunged forward, hurling one of his knives straight at the hand holding the pistol and disarming him. Then he drew a second knife and threw it directly at his opponent's chest.
The gunman dodged.
But it was already too late.
Noctis had used the moment to close the distance between them.
He drove a hard punch into the man's stomach and followed it with an uppercut as the assassin doubled over. However, the blow didn't slow him for long. The shooter quickly regained his footing and swung a punch of his own.
The hand Noctis had struck with the knife was bleeding.
The bastard didn't seem bothered by it.
Good. Then show me what you've got.
The gunman kicked Noctis in the chest, forcing him back.
Noctis recovered instantly and charged again, but somehow the shooter had another pistol in his hand.
One that was aimed directly at Noctis's forehead.
Okay, this could end badly.
Noctis dropped immediately and made use of one of Isaac's skills. Falling onto his hands, he used the momentum to swing his legs around and sweep the gunman's feet out from under him.
A sickening crack echoed through the alley.
Whether it had been a knee or an ankle, he couldn't tell.
In the end, it didn't really matter. A broken bone meant victory. Not that he was about to become careless. Whenever he was in the process of killing someone, he applied the highest level of concentration he could muster.
Noctis pressed the advantage, grabbed the shooter's pistol, pinned his opponent down by driving his knees into the man's armpits, and pressed the gun against his forehead.
"Enough playing around," he said, pushing the pistol harder against the man's skull. "Who sent you?"
The shooter spat blood onto the ground.
"Why would I answer a dead man?"
Noctis blinked.
Then he frowned.
"I think you desperately need a biology lesson."
His opponent's smile widened.
Either the guy was completely insane, or he wasn't alone.
Before Noctis could shoot the man beneath him and start looking for his little friend, a muffled gunshot rang out behind him.
Pain exploded through his left shoulder.
It was so intense that for a moment all he saw was white, and a scream caught in his throat.
He staggered, instinctively twisting his body and firing behind him. The shot knocked the attacker's weapon away. Immediately afterward, Noctis hurled a knife at him, burying it deep in the man's abdomen.
The attacker dropped to the ground at once with a groan.
Noctis turned back to the man he had been sitting on and shot him.
Then he stood up.
His shoulder felt as though it were on fire. It burned fiercely, and the pain was almost unbearable. Noctis clenched his teeth. He had suffered injuries before.
But never from a gunshot.
And certainly never one this painful.
He pressed a hand against the wound. His arm felt numb. If another fight broke out, he wouldn't be able to use his left arm.
At least he was right-handed.
Damn... how had Isaac always managed to shrug off gunshot wounds so easily?
Noctis exhaled sharply and forced himself to focus.
First, he needed to take a closer look at the bastard who had dared to attack him from behind without warning.
Drawing his third knife, he approached the man crouched on the ground clutching his stomach.
"Go on. Pull it out. I'm pretty sure I hit your fucking abdominal artery," Noctis hissed angrily.
How dare this bastard attack him out of nowhere?
He hadn't heard a thing.
Hadn't even sensed his presence.
Lying in the dirt before him was a professional.
A professional who had failed to kill him.
The man coughed and appeared to be searching for his pistol, which had landed several feet away.
Noctis clicked his tongue in disapproval.
"Forget it. You're not getting to it anymore," he scoffed.
The guy probably didn't have much time left. If Noctis wanted information out of him, he would have to get it now.
"Who sent you?"
"Fuck you..." the man gasped.
Noctis crouched down in front of him and tilted his head.
"Good suggestion, but I still prefer fucking my lover. Maybe I'll even do it later. By then, though, you'll already be dead."
The man coughed.
"I wish that damn bullet had hit you in the back of the head," he hissed.
"Too bad for you," Noctis snorted.
He pulled out the last card he had from Isaac and held it in front of the man's face. The golden spider symbol briefly flashed in the pale light.
The man's eyes widened slightly.
"Oh? You know what this card means, don't you?" Noctis said with a smirk.
He forced himself not to make a sound. Damn it—even that movement hurt.
"You're the fucking Sandman..." the man wheezed.
"That's right," Noctis confirmed. "And if you don't tell me who sent you, I'll give you the Sandman Special Service, so you can make your journey to the land of the dead in the most unpleasant way possible."
The man cursed.
Panic entered his eyes.
"Fuck it, I'm dead anyway..." he coughed, his voice trembling. "Levi sent me... now... just kill me already..."
Noctis let out an annoyed breath.
"I'll kill you if you give me a little more information. How many people have been sent after me?"
"No idea..."
"Fine. Doesn't matter," Noctis scoffed. "What about a man named Isaac? Does that name mean anything to you?"
The man laughed weakly.
"He's on every list. Levi wants him, and he'll get him. Doesn't matter what condition he's in."
Noctis rolled his eyes.
"That's a shame. You were actually starting to become likable."
With that, he shoved Isaac's card into the man's mouth, activated the spell, and poured his own magic into it, intending to make the bastard suffer.
He was out of patience, and the pain kept getting worse. The fabric of his jacket was already soaked with blood. He needed to take care of the wound as quickly as possible.
Better to finish this and disappear before more flies showed up.
The man's eyes closed as he whimpered softly.
Noctis pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and was about to dial Lucy's number when he remembered that she had left on a job only a few hours earlier.
So who could pick him up instead...?
With an irritated sigh, he dialed Moz.
"What?" came the annoyed response.
"Hold your breath for a moment," Noctis snapped. "I'm sending you coordinates. Come pick me up, and make sure your trunk is empty."
"Why the hell should I pick you up? I'm off duty!"
"Because otherwise I'll make your life miserable," Noctis promised irritably.
For a moment, Moz said nothing. Then he let out an exasperated sigh.
"I'll be there in ten minutes."
"Make it five."
"Bastard."
"Oooooone... twooooo..."
"I'm on my way," Moz said before hanging up.
Noctis leaned against the wall. He pressed a hand against the gunshot wound. There wasn't much he could do anyway—it was a damn through-and-through wound. His brother would have to heal it.
Under no circumstances could he let Isaac see that he was injured, especially not after Isaac had gone out of his way to give him a talisman.
As much as Noctis would have enjoyed being cared for by him, he knew exactly how Isaac would react.
He would worry.
He would insist on coming along.
He might even try to help work through the list.
And while Noctis wouldn't have minded an extra pair of hands on these missions, he didn't want Isaac worrying about him, nor did he want him out here where Levi had him directly in his sights.
Noctis exhaled sharply.
Then he crouched beside the assassin who had tried to kill him.
"That could have gone very badly," he hissed.
At least the bastard had missed his heart.
Otherwise, Noctis would be lying here bleeding out his last breaths.
And it was far too early for that.
Time to extract a few more answers from a dying man.
Noctis reached for the assassin's face, closed his eyes, and slipped into the man's dream.