Machinations and misery (1)

Friday Morning, 6:52 AM – Kitchen.

From my stool, I was setting a tray on the table and selecting my food for lunch. It was at this time that I would set the day’s schedule with Justine. The latter, stationed behind the counter, was putting away the utensils she had used to prepare savory salt flatbread for us.

My exchanges with the boss never lasted long. We got straight to the point, and her opinion prevailed over mine in case of disagreement. Our relationship had dwindled since our bond reached its limits.

We had shared our lives numerous times, and experienced both the best and the worst together. It’s safe to say that Justine and I couldn’t be any closer. However, that didn’t mean there were no secrets between us. The most delicate subjects were never broached, but it was better that way.

By mutual agreement, we allowed ourselves a degree of privacy and freedom that no one should question, lest it disrupt our balance. Justine knew that I conducted experiments on the targets passing through the cellar, but she had convinced herself it was to maintain my proficiency with my secret weapon.

Her attachment to me had led her to make numerous errors in judgment. She projected a humanity onto me that I did not possess. My respect was interpreted as love on her part, and it was unimaginable to her that I would cause harm purely for pleasure. That if I was a mercenary, it was out of a desire for vengeance or some noble cause.

I don’t understand the concept of ‘self-sacrifice’ attributed to noble causes.

Everything I did, I did for my own benefit. Wasting time and energy on others without getting anything in return was unnatural. No one could survive with such concerns! Altruists sacrificed their precious moments of pleasure to allow others, sometimes strangers, to enjoy them in their place. Why? Their own lives should matter more than anything!

Such behavior made no sense. It was even insulting that Justine would attribute such traits to me. I didn’t blamed her because I knew she wasn’t ready to accept the true version of events.

When I woke up in her house for the first time, my memory was severely impaired, and everything around me seemed incredibly insignificant. Justine laid out the entire situation, and, seeing the tears streaming down her face, a sense of emptiness arose within me.

I couldn’t understand what she was feeling. There was no reason to cry; there was simply… nothing left. There was nothing more to do to fix the mistakes of the past, no more victims or culprits. In this new life, I had neither attachments nor a future. I was beginning a long wander with only the sensation of being dead as company. The fact was, I should have died, but by the greatest of coincidences, I was still standing, left only to wonder what to do with my existence.

Not feeling anything wasn’t a problem in itself, but the boredom it caused quickly became troublesome. What was I doing here if I had no desires nor pleasures? If everything left me indifferent?

Uselessness was an unbearable feeling, just like the questions that hollowed out the void within me. Justine soon became concerned about my lack of responsiveness.

When she wasn’t working, she had me try all sorts of activities in the hope that I would discover a passion. I merely followed each of her orders like a good little soldier. It seemed to please her, so I did my best to comply because I had nothing else to do.

Of all the activities, my favorite was observation. I didn’t understand human emotions, and studying their reactions and behavioral patterns helped me grasp the workings of the world they had built. With insatiable curiosity, I decrypted the invisible codes governing Society, scrutinizing the magic terminal’ screen and the city dwellers in search of material to develop my own theories.

A handful of years passed without my noticing. Humans had become to me like little treasure boxes, and uncovering their mysteries was highly entertaining. However, my condition as a child imposed many limitations. That’s why I had asked Justine to teach me to become like her: a mercenary.

The occasional hostages she brought back to the cellar intrigued me greatly. Their treasure boxes seemed to contain a thousand wonders, and I couldn’t resist the curiosity to discover them. I worked tirelessly to earn the right to join her as soon as possible. She eventually gave in to my whim when I was nine.

Although my involvement in missions remained fairly limited, I now had access to the most unique expressions a human could produce. There was an entire spectrum, an infinite array of nuances and mixtures. They weren’t always predictable, and I enjoyed being surprised by their emotional exoticism. Since my targets were all guilty of numerous crimes, I found only hideous treasures in their treasure boxes. They were so weak, and their minds so twisted, that I came to wonder how such refuse could even exist.

“Boss,” I once asked her before going to bed. “Why do some people have such... corrupted personalities? Why must we eliminate them? To begin with, they shouldn’t survive natural selection with such flaws.”

“You’re talking about our targets at work?”

“Yes. I don’t understand it.”

Justine had me sit on the couch. She began a sort of monologue by the light of the floor lamp.

“These scum survive because they cheat at the system. They seize power and wealth that don’t belong to them and leave innocent people to pick up the pieces. To be honest, I don’t think there’s any real justice in nature. It’s a concept invented by humans to live in society. That’s why, if you find something unjust, you have the right to correct it. You just need to have the means to do so.” Justine stopped because she had finished speaking, but when I tried to respond, she placed a finger on my lips. “But that doesn’t mean you have all the rights! What will set you apart from those despicable people is that you will ensure never to encroach on the lives of the innocent. They just want to live in peace, so you have no reason to disturb them. Is that clearer to you now?”

I nodded in satisfaction. “Yes. nature is so fascinating, Boss! So if they exist, does that mean these corrupted people have a purpose?”

“I don’t know, but what I’m sure of is that the world would be better off without these cockroaches.”

“I couldn’t agree more. They’re particularly annoying.”

“Come on, it’s getting late, she suddenly changed the subject. I don’t want to see you here anymore, little curious! Off to bed!”

After this conversation, I had a revelation as I went to bed: if I had survived certain death and was drawn to the profession of assassin, it must have been my destiny.

I finally had a purpose in nature: I was to rid this magnificent world of all the vile impurities that were poisoning our lives. A cog in nature had malfunctioned, and chaos had taken the opportunity to settle in. Thus, fate had chosen me to restore the balance. I then threw myself entirely into this task. I derived great pleasure from it, which motivated me even more.

Nearly five years had passed since I had realized my true mission. Things hadn’t changed much between Justine and me, except for one thing: I was no longer the empty-shelled child she had taken in. I had evolved into an even more efficient weapon. And as if to indicate that I was on the right path by targeting the royalty, fate had made a generous advance: Edwoyn, the key that would lead me to Grand Brother, had come into my possession.

Rediscovering Grand Brother's existence and learning that I had once been capable of feeling emotions had given me a new purpose. Nothing would divert me from it, not even Justine.

She had become an obstacle the moment she started asking the wrong questions. What a shame to come to this after all these years… The truth was that I had never been obligated to obey her. I had done so to repay my debt and show my respect. But now that things had changed, no matter how much Justine lectured me, my authority would soon surpass hers, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Fearing something did not prevent it from unfolding before our helpless eyes.

Far from wanting to take over the Wind Killer or overthrow the hierarchy, let’s just say... I simply wanted Justine to never question my choices again. I was already fully aware of every move I made, so there was no need for her trivial warnings!

I bit into a new flatbread. The texture was unmatched in its softness. I couldn’t say if it was savory or not, but the salt managed to awaken my taste buds, making me want more.

“Mmm, it’s good! Can I have another?”

“Save some for the recruit; I’m not making any more soon! So, are you okay with making a stop? I have too much to do at the moment, and I’d like to sort out this informant issue before other problems hit us. Use this opportunity to investigate the prince!”

“Yeah, don’t worry, that’s exactly what I had planned. I’ll check out that new agency you talked me about, but… I might change my mind if you don’t let me have one last flatbread!”

“Ah... you never lose your edge, do you?” she sighed.

With a sullen expression, the blonde watched me take my reward and lick my lips. She quickly decided to went back to tidying up the kitchen, which gave me more credit.

This Friday, there would be no murder. Sorry to disappoint you, but mercenaries don’t spend their time on dangerous missions, fighting, and playing the vigilante like in adventure novels.

Regardless of the profession, no one escapes the bland and restrictive protocols... An organization, even a clandestine one, needed maintenance. This time, we were focusing on renewing our network of collaborators, but that was far from our only priority.

My tasks was to handle the resale point, the armory, and take the horses to the vet when necessary. My partner, on the other hand, was responsible for ordering new equipment if it was destroyed, liaising with informants, and laundering our money through the bank.

Occasionally, we would swap roles, but that was rare. If there was one constant in our daily life, it was the continuous stream of requests. Rain or shine, corruption was always present! This inevitability was my greatest joy: it kept my mind occupied while filling the insatiable void within me.

Playing the grim reaper was my specialty. I would even say it was vital to avoid dying of boredom. Since we had topped the rankings of the most sought-after mercenaries in the country, not a week went by without someone calling on our services. We only had to choose which contracts to execute according to our preferences.

A wonderful dream, right?