The Perfect Assassin Novels & Stories

"Yes, you are the best at it, baby, but you also have other skills. We have been trained to be the best at what we do. But if we rely on weapons right off the back. It also means my plans weren't airtight, and they were flawed. And that would be unacceptable." Everyone in the room knew Victor was a mastermind at planning sharp, successful missions, whether in the jungle, sea, air, or big city. That was his specialty as an ex-Marine Ops in the military. He did his homework so thoroughly that A.W.S.E. rarely had to use their weapons in all their missions. "Don't worry, Seungchan; I've arranged for all our ammunition to be in America if needed." Victor said as he gave him a slight smile. Then

It was a very frequent way people were assassinated and the longer Gwen stared at the flower the longer a plan was formulated in her head. If Gwen could take the flower and use it properly then she would be able to use it to take down someone she does not like. Gwen had promised her mother that she would not kill the Queen but she never said anything about her father. He was one of the officials that came with the Queen. Gwen had figured that out a couple of days after they first came and it really put a smile on her face.

she replied and took off. “Those were not easy shots, sir,” Gavin commented. He took out his phone and showed him the view where Alex had been aiming. “How she was able to get those bullets through those narrow slots, I can’t explain. It was not easy, but she took those shots like they’re a piece of cake.” Zach looked down at the picture and silently agreed with his agent.

He was turned into a weak, limp marionette, dangling from Zayn’s hand. Zayn nonchalantly tossed him to the ground and looked down at him from above. He then asked, “Which club do you belong to?” The lead assassin’s pupils constricted from shock once again upon hearing Zayn’s query. “Who… Who are you?” the assassin stuttered. “Let me guess, you’re from the Order of the Solar Temple?” Zayn asked. The assassins had auras very similar to Shaun Shapiro. The lead assassin’s pupils constricted from even more, apparently confirming that Zayn was right.

“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.

Every strike, every dodge, every snap of fangs was a declaration: Blackwood would not fall, not today, not to assassins, not to traitors. Finally, with a coordinated lunge, Kade and Lena struck simultaneously, claws and fangs tearing into the master assassin. The cloak fell back, revealing a scarred face, eyes blazing with hatred and disbelief. The assassin’s body crumpled to the stone floor, defeated but alive—barely.

Pick the black guy, Percy said to the guy by the screen stopping his movement again. The assassin in question was a very dark man with skin like coffee, and eyes that matches his skin with piercing cheeks bones, and hollow cheeks, his stare intense and deadly. His nickname 'Blade' thirty-six, been with the agency for eight years, has a rank of gamma with six hunts, and slices through his victims before they could see his blade coming, he is fast and calculating. The next Assassin picked was called Lighting a young very beautiful curvaceous woman with fiery beach blonde tresses floating down her back, parted at the center with pale liquid blue eyes that looked to have sparkles in them with a

Of average height, but lean, and handsome, with his blonde hair falling across his forehead. But his eyes. They were dead eyes. Grey blue. Hard. Piers flicked a cigarette aside, exhaled smoke. “You’re not taking her. Not tonight.” The lead assassin didn’t speak. He just moved fast. The alley erupted into violence. Muzzle flashes lit up the dusk. The assassins were precise, surgical — trained killers. One of the Don’s men dropped, a crimson arc spraying across the wall behind him. Another took a round to the thigh but didn’t fall — he lunged with a switchblade, slashing at one assassin’s neck, narrowly missing.

it feels like this peace is too fragile, too perfect. I can’t shake the feeling that something is coming. Something bad. THIRD PERSON’S POV Back in the city, in an abandoned garage near the outskirts of town, Camille straps weapons into a black van. Ammunition clips snap into place. Beside her, a man, an assassin, in all black studies a map pinned to the van’s dashboard. Red circles. Coordinates. Timelines. “The cabin is isolated,” the assassin says without looking up. “Minimal visibility. Three exits. One unguarded. We strike soon.”

She is overly impressed by them but also sees their flaws. "Brent and Jordan are the only assassins in the country to have triple-ten ratings. Jordan is tiny but ruthless, and I expect her to show you all what it means to be without guilt. Every kill that we make weeds the world of evil. She doesn't think about their families or kids, she just wants to get the job done.” "How can I follow that introduction?" A short, strikingly beautiful Asian woman steps into the room as her stats are read aloud. Her petite frame only seems to amplify the intensity of her presence. A tiny red dress is poured on to her athletic figure.