Semua Bab Mission: Kill the Tsar: Bab 1 - Bab 7

People may always think being a sniper assassin was all action and explosions and slow-motion bullets. It’s our life hanging by a thread. You fail to kill your target, you’ll die. If you succeeded in killing the target but his men saw you, you're still going to die. Why? Because those men might trace you, and it’ll lead to the organization you came from. The organization we were in is the one that holds us in our neck. They took the job seriously, so we must be careful. And it was my mistake. I thought I found a school, private and unknown, because I wanted to stop being sheltered by my parents. I thought it was just an ordinary school, and teaching how to be independent turned out to be a school of assassins. The moment I enrolled, my fate had been sealed. I was forced to study and had my job. If you quit, the management will make sure the students die. And now, I lie on the rooftops for hours, checking each side for a possible sniper, sniping for a sniper. I already positioned my

I was dressed to impress the Tsar Ace Andreev or more accurately, to keep the peace between him and my parents. The silk dress that my mom insisted I wear hugged my frame just enough to show elegance, not seduction. Pale blue, soft like ocean mist, something that said “refined” and “well-bred,” not “look at me.” My hair was pinned up with a pearl clip, a family heirloom I inherited from my late grandmother, not a strand out of place. I looked like the perfect daughter of a wealthy businessman. Prim, proper and quiet. The daughter my father knew, exactly what they expected me to be.My heels clicked softly on the marble floor as I was escorted through the estate’s grand hallway. The place was ridiculous, gold trims, old oil paintings, guards at every door. I’d been around money all my life, but this? This wasn’t rich. This was power. When I entered the hall, I saw him.Ace Andreevm. The Tsar himself.He didn’t stand up. Just sat there in the armchair like a king on a throne, fingers

Ace’s point of viewWith a glass of tequila on my one hand, I decided to sit down on my swivel chair behind my mahogany desk. Something caught my eyes, the ashtray ones belong to the old man who took me in, the person behind this mafia he left me. I took it and watched it closely, remembering how I let the old man I was just a kid. Seventeen years ago, in an orphanage run by corrupted nuns.“The old man will be here. Make sure you all useless brats will catch his attention,” one of the nuns said as we were eating. I was 12 years old back then and after escaping the relentless pursuit of those hunters that murdered my pack, I stumbled upon an orphanage. The nuns took me in with a smirk that made my heart jump seconds after I was exhausted to death by running.I didn’t know inside the orphanage was run by corrupted nuns who collect money from the government. Instead of spending it with us children, they gambled on it and then forced us to do work for our own food source. “Hurry! Line