Master Assassin Novels & Stories

The man who once lived for my breath was now the predator stalking it, his every movement a jagged, lethal promise of my end. We were on the open observation deck of the Spire’s flagship, suspended thousands of feet above the burning Iron Shore. The wind howled around us, tearing at my silk gown and the Sovereign tactical gear that now encased his body. Dante moved with a sickening, mechanical grace, his obsidian arm glowing a sterile, blinding white. He was "Assassin 01," a ghost with no name and no mercy.

I felt my strength draining, my heart thudding in a rhythm that felt like it was slowing down forever. "It's working!" Isaac cheered. But then, a cold hand grabbed my ankle. I was yanked backward, my grip on Rowan's hand breaking. I fell onto the hard concrete of the roof. The Master was there. He had used an external elevator. His clothes were singed, and his blue eyes were full of murderous light. "You've cost me too much," he said, raising a small, silver pistol. He didn't aim at me. He aimed at Leo, who was lying in a pile of blankets just a few feet away.

The smiling faces of three people who were making a picture-perfect family. My eyes caught the attention of the identity card that had her details. Iris Ivanov. "Iris...." My tongue rolled out her name. "Iris Ivanov....." I mumbled her name again with glitter in my eyes. Didn't know why her name felt so unique to me. "Daughter of Yuri Ivanov, the renowned Assassin." Igor completed her identity and I couldn't stop myself from mumbling the next words. "Welcome to my hell, my dear Assassin's Daughter."

“Back then, you had the opportunity to take Secret, but you didn’t cherish it. Do you regret it now?” Blair put the pendant around Mable’s neck. “I do regret it a bit, but not for not getting Secret. I regret not cherishing you well enough.” Mable’s lips curled up, and she reopened the photo sent by Solomon. “This brooch is the identification mark of A-level subordinates of Secret. Thus, this assassin must be from Secret. There’s no way Solomon can make him talk!” An A-level assassin meant passing the most rigorous training. Their willpower was far beyond that of an ordinary person. Even if a truth serum was used, it was impossible to force him to talk.

Seeing this, the other assassin immediately told them everything. The mastermind was John Rockefeller. Alex’s eyes were as chilling as a storm. “Let’s head towards Rockefeller Manor, we’ll make him pay!” \

NEW TARGET: Designation [ADMIN]. TRIGGER: Manual Input Code [0-0-0]. Ren’s fingers flew across the mechanical keyboard, the click-clack sound filling the room like gunfire. He was building a backdoor. If the Admin ever tried to lock them in—if the "Game Over" screen ever appeared in real life—Ren would type the code. And every drone, every robot, every soldier in the game would stop hunting the players... and start hunting the Game Master. "If you try to burn me," Ren whispered to the scrolling code, "I'm going to turn your own dogs against you."

He wanted something else. “I know who the Master is” Ray had a surprised expression on his face after going through the assassin’s memories. The assassin had met the Master only once – when he was receiving his blessing. “In fact we both know who this person is” Ray smiled bitterly and said. “Oh? Who?” Indra’s curiosity was peaked. “Remember the Assassins Association’s Head?” Ray asked. “Yeah” Indra nodded. Of course he remembered the man. He had used one of the man’s men to spy on him for a very long time so he remembered.

The windows, the open spaces, the lack of cover, the private security firm – it was all designed to be a perfect setup for an assassination. The details of the location and the security vulnerabilities were a chilling testament to the strategic brilliance of Alessandro and Lucia. They had not just planned a trap; they had planned a perfect, beautiful, and inescapable end. The false summit, a symbol of peace, was in fact a stage for a final, brutal, and terrifying act of violence. The clock was ticking, and the game was afoot. And Amara knew, with a chilling certainty, that this was one trap they could not escape.

My heart raced, hand gripping the wall behind me. Red eyes stood behind him, a dagger glimmered in the moonlight. The light beam shone across the red eyes figure’s face. It’s lower part of his face covered by a black mask. The Assassin. “And I deserve to return to my prison, where Hades will send me to judgment,” Ir’ak let out a ragged breath. The dagger, once twinkling in the small light from the window, plunged into Ir’ak’s neck. His legs knees dropped into the carpet.

In the private room with her, I could see her whole body trembling when I touched her like she hadn’t been touched in years. Just as she was about to press the drink to her lips, my handler, Silas, spoke to me through my AirPods to pause the mission I immediately took the glass from her and poured the contents over my chest, and she thought it was part of the act, not knowing she almost drank herself to her own death. Just in case Silas needed me to complete the job subsequently, I left a card with my number on it and with how harsh her breathing was and the desire in her eyes, I doubted it would go unused