Novel & Cerita Best Books About Assassins

*giggles* After that, I'm going to ki- "Wtf! Bro, stop smiling, it's terrifying." Relax, William, that's your brother. "SHUT UP," I demanded. I haven't introduced myself yet. My name is William Carter, and I am a 36-year-old assassin. Reaper is the codename I use. Many people have motivations for being a spy, assassin, criminal, and so on. However, I became an assassin because of my father. Third-person pov

She said and I wasn't surprised. I knew she was wasn't a regular person. I knew she was up to something. I knew she knew too much for her own good. "I am a free assassin," She said and it all made sense. Free assassin never worked or belonged to a clan, they get hired to work for an important mission and after that they are discarded even if the Mission failed. They had an immortality card. "I would not kill Mason if you tell me where my child is," I said and she nodded her head slightly.

Borin’s men were gaining the upper hand, cutting down the last of the ambushers. It was over. We were safe. But as I held my trembling, sobbing daughter in the shelter of the stones, the cold, horrifying truth settled in my gut. This wasn't a random attack. The assassins were too skilled, too targeted. They hadn't come for plunder or territory. They had come for a very specific purpose. And as I looked down at Elisse’s terrified face, the single, chilling question echoed in my mind, a cliffhanger more terrifying than any blade:

Its pages were yellowed and brittle with age, covered in an elegant, spidery script that spoke of centuries of secrets. "This is the Blood Ledger," Finch said, his voice as calm and deep as a forest pool at midnight. He adjusted his gold-rimmed spectacles, his long, slender fingers tracing the embossed, blood-red title on the cover with a historian's reverence. "It is an unsanctioned, unofficial, and utterly terrifying record of the world's most dangerous freelance hunters, assassins, and enforcers. They serve no council, pledge allegiance to no species. Their only loyalties are to coin and carnage."

T‌‌he day⁠s afte‌r the failed a‍ssassination⁠ did⁠ not settle, they​ f​raye‌d. T​r​ust​, onc‍e‍ s⁠trained, now thinned to something translucent a‌nd​ britt⁠‍le‍, stretc⁠hed a⁠cross t‍‌he for​tr‍‌ess l​ike skin over bone. W⁠h​ispers‍ multipli⁠ed, v‌oi⁠ces dropping whene​‍ver footst‌eps ap​p⁠r‍o‌ac​h‌ed, eyes s‌li​d‍in⁠g a‍way t‌o⁠o‌ q‌uickly to‍ b‍e innoce⁠nt. Ev‍en⁠‌ the w‍a‌lls​ s⁠eem‌e‌d to⁠ lis⁠ten, holdin⁠g secr‌e⁠ts they woul⁠d n⁠o​t ​ release witho‌‍ut⁠ blo‍od.

/ Livi squeaked and I couldn’t help my eyes widening in disbelief. “Cillian was very specific. With these assassins and their wolfsbane, she cannot be alone for a second. Literally. Especially when asleep.” “Come on that’s a bit much-” Lucien replied, his tiredness and irritation matching his asshole son. “I’ll help cover shifts while I’m here,” Beta Zeke said, his chest puffed out, trying to match the natural dominant force of his huge companion. “Sleep is when the assassins had most success. The Ceremony after all-” shooting a look at me with utter contempt, “that is where they slit the throats of so many men. They had nobody watching over them.”

Henry said casually. "This is our third encounter, right?" Sven asked. "Thank you for saving my life twice before. I feel so ashamed," Sven responded. "It's fate. Here, take this." Henry pulled out a book and tossed it over. He had plenty of resources because he was the Master of Golden Liberty and had previously been given opportunities. "What's this?" Sven was perplexed, but he was stunned when he saw the title on the cover. "The treasure of the assassin world—the Art of Assassination! Wait! There's also the Ghosty Steps?

Thankfully, most of the stuff just involved hacking into certain systems and unraveling encryptions for a couple of Assassins. I look around the living empty living room and glimpse into my room, but it’s empty. Heart pounding with panic, I check the bathroom, but it’s also empty. It’s only when I hear sounds coming from my gym that my breathing steadies. I watch from the shadows as April practices a couple of fighting moves. At one point, she takes two knives from my weapons wall and expertly twirls and throws them. She really is good. Maybe even better than me. I’m just not sure if I want to be with another Assassin. I know that I’m being unfair, but I meant it when I said that I needed ti

Alssandro Leone Romano James Mathews hung up and rounded his shoulder to get rid of the fatigue he now had. He is my Vice-President, henchman, undertaker, right-arm man. Despite his age and charisma, he was an ice-berg. A cruel callous bastard. Though he looked pristine and refined to the nines he had more blood on his hands than I did. We always had hired hands but this sadistic sicko liked to get his hands dirty. He took a pussy, disposed of it. He took a dime, impenitently.

“Then I guess we better give him what he wants. Rogue, take out the needles.” Rogue gives me a knowing smile before he opens up a satchel and removes several six-inch needles. The needles look like knitting needles, but instead of hooks at the end, they’re sharp and extremely painful. Rogue was the first Assassin that I brought on when I became the South American Board Director. The first thing I taught Rogue was how to use the needles for the purpose of torture. I use the needles to dig them into vital organs, which causes slow, excruciating pain to run through my victim’s nervous systems. It’s a very painful way to die. Rogue prefers to use a gun, but I enjoy my needles.