“Heh, listen.”
“A professional assassin must learn to hide within the city and the wilderness, keeping their presence masked and their weapons concealed.”
“As a professional assassin, one must engrave cold-bloodedness and composure into their very heart.”
“If there were still anything in this world capable of stumping me…”
Ainola only wanted to say one word.
“POOR!!!”
The silver-haired girl sat on the sofa, miserably slurping down a bowl of instant noodles.
It was not even the cup kind.
This just goes to show how truly destitute this girl was.
“What are you howling about so early in the morning?”
Just as the girl was lamenting the unfairness of fate, the voice of a young man drifted down from the upstairs floor.
He walked down while yawning, and upon seeing Ainola eating instant noodles yet again, he spoke with a wordless expression.
“You’re having that for breakfast?”
“What else would it be?” Ainola retorted sharply. “Are you going to provide for me, Anderson?”
Anderson was Ainola’s flatmate. He usually liked to stay home, or he would simply vanish without a trace, leaving her with no idea where he had gone.
Furthermore, judging by his cheap, off-the-rack clothing, he was just like her—likely broke.
“Forget it,” Anderson said with a yawn. “I say that, but every time I offer to take care of you, you take off like a shot. Are you blaming me for that?”
Ainola felt a sting of irritation, but she was helpless to change her situation.
The girl’s appearance was far from average.
Once a princess, she possessed top-tier elegance and beauty in both temperament and looks.
Even in these simple loungewear clothes, it was hard to hide her stunning features.
If she were in her previous life, she would have been an existence more beautiful than any celebrity.
The boy named Anderson took another look at Ainola before turning his gaze away.
He muttered something under his breath, audible only to himself.
“Hmm… dressed quite lightly today… but it’s not bad.”
Ainola did not hear him. She finished the remaining broth in the bowl, let out a refreshing sigh, and spoke.
“I’m heading out.”
“Be careful, don’t get kidnapped.”
Anderson said it nonchalantly, yet there was a hint of genuine concern in his tone.
Regardless of everything, they had been sharing a flat for nearly a year, so they counted as friends.
“Don’t worry about it.”
After Ainola left the rental, she headed into the dark alleyways.
As mentioned before, she was a cold-hearted professional assassin.
She had come to Hail City, the capital of the Glory Empire, for one reason alone: to complete a monumental revenge.
That was to find and kill the Prince of the Glory Empire.
The reason was simple enough. Seven years ago, she was the princess of a small nation, and while she lacked power, she at least never wanted for food or comfort.
Then, for no apparent reason, the massive Glory Empire decided to wipe her home off the map. During that war of aggression, her small, tattered kingdom only resisted for three weeks before the imperial capital was breached. If not for her most trusted maid shielding her as she fled, she surely would have perished in the carnage.
That maid had raised her since she was a child, closer to her than her own mother, and now her whereabouts were unknown. Even after searching for so long, there was not a single trace.
Probably… perhaps… she was likely dead.
This was a conclusion Ainola refused to accept, and it served as her greatest drive for revenge against the Glory Empire.
Although the Glory Empire was immensely powerful, it was impossible to shake them with her strength alone.
But the Glory Empire had only one Prince and had remained without other heirs for years. This meant that if she could kill this Prince, the empire would inevitably crumble amid power struggles and warlordism.
To locate the Prince, Ainola chose to become a professional assassin. With her experiences from her previous life, she had quickly mastered the assassin arts of this world.
Ainola was confident that if she could find the Prince, she could reap his life as the reaper herself within three days.
Now, her organization had informed her that they had finally obtained information on the Prince, and they were summoning her to accept the mission.
“I’ve searched for so long; I want to see exactly where you’ve been hiding.”
Ainola walked along the alley and soon entered an unfinished building.
This was one of the meeting points between Ainola and the Fengting Association.
The contact saw Ainola and offered a cold, raspy laugh.
“You’re the only one in the whole world who dares to accept a contract to assassinate a Prince. Have you lost your mind?”
Logically, an assassin might take a job, but they would never take a mission that was essentially suicide.
Ainola responded.
“Stubborn, get it? And what if I pull it off? Two million in bounty money.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have the money, but no life left to spend it.”
The contact continued to mock Ainola with a sneer.
“I have obtained the intelligence on the target. Whether you succeed or not is your problem; it has nothing to do with the Fengting Association.”
“Don’t worry, even if I get caught, I won’t expose you people.”
Ainola gestured to the dagger in her hand, her meaning clear.
She was approaching this revenge with a resolve to succeed or die trying. If she failed, she would commit suicide without hesitation to avoid becoming the Prince’s plaything.
Even if the dagger were taken away, she kept cyanide hidden between her teeth. There was no way her life would end in some cliché, humiliating narrative.
“Impressive, impressive,” the contact said, dropping the mocking tone. “Someone like you would be well-suited as a retainer for a noble. I have an introduction, how about it? Will you consider it?”
“Not interested. Once I kill that Prince, I’m done being an assassin.”
Ainola shook her head and continued. “So, who is this Prince?”
“Heh~ you might not believe it when I tell you.”
“Just spit it out.”
Ainola did not care. Regardless of who he was, she would finish the job. As the most active and successful assassin in recent years, she had the confidence to do it.
“Your flatmate.”
“Huh!?”
Hearing this answer, Ainola was stunned.
After taking a full half-minute to collect herself, she finally squeezed out a single sentence.
“You must be joking with me.”
“Heh…” the contact scoffed. “You lived with him for a year and didn’t even recognize he was the Prince? Isn’t that laughable?”
“It’s precisely because I lived with him for a year that I know he’s not the Prince!”
Ainola retorted, baffled.
“Besides, if he were the Prince, why would he be flat-sharing with me? Was he dropped on his head as a child?”
Faced with Ainola’s confusion, the contact merely shook his head.
“Who knows? Maybe he took a liking to you.”