Worlds Finest Assassin Op นิยาย & เรื่องราว

“Someone explain to me why that name sounds like the apocalypse.” Lena studied her. “You’ve never heard of him?” “No.” “That’s actually impressive,” Lena said. Then she turned back to Arun. “He’s careful with his reputation.” Arun exhaled slowly. “Yes. He is.” Alina’s patience snapped. “Okay, enough mysterious silence. Who the hell is he?” Lena answered. “He’s the best assassin alive.” Alina frowned. “There are plenty of those.” Lena shook her head. “Not like him.” She stepped closer, her boots echoing softly on the concrete.

As my boots hit the fire escape, I pulled the trigger on a small remote in my hand. The entire room exploded behind me...fire, smoke, and shattered glass raining down. A hellish goodbye. I didn’t flinch. It was my signature—burn everything, leave no evidence. I fixed my hair, wiped a speck of ash from my cheek, and walked away like it was nothing. My name is Lea. I’m a platinum-ranked assassin under the High Table. That rank? It means I’m one of the best. It means the world fears me. Or, in simpler terms:

I shook my head and increased my pace, trying to keep up with Edwin's long strides as he turned left. Soon enough, we were standing in front of a black mahogany door. He knocked on the door and waited. "Come in." A deep and low voice answered from inside. Shivers wracked my whole body and cleared my throat for the hundredth time this morning. The voice held so much authority and masculinity. "Alright, Miss Kayla. You may go in now. Mr. Marcello is ready to see you," Edwin announced, and I swallowed. Hard. I nodded my head and thanked him.

A world away. The night air in the south garden was cool. The man stood in the shadow of a tall hedge, dressed in a perfect black tuxedo. He looked like any other rich guest. He didn’t look like an assassin. That’s what made him good. “You’re sure it’s clean?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “One chance. In and out. The chaos will be your cover.” “I’m the best,” he said. No arrogance. Just a fact. “Where is the package?”

Past my temper, I was hollowed of opinions of my next move. Alessandro Leone Romano was a beautiful Specimen. Costa Nostra Boss was more breath-taking than he looked in his 'Wanted' shots with his sky-high head price. Momentarily I was frozen for more reasons than one. His warm hands’ captivity, his intoxicating cologne, his imposing rock hard built under my dainty hands, or was it his emerald intense eyes peering into my soul? I couldn’t tell many things like what my surname was or what was his. If he was a wicked whizz, he had me under his charm, and then he chanted something my mind was too far gone in his green abyss to comprehend.

3rd Prince Carlos Relani Devion - he is a well-known battle freak, a bloodthirsty soldier, he is practically the same at the same time not with Felix the most gullible one. Then....... Emperor Cassius Vitalis - Devion - everyone describes him as an ice block, no one can look at him directly, lest their eyes itch just from his cold piercing glimpse. He is a very capable ruler despite being an ice block.

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."

I said as I gently picked up the knife that had fallen beside me. Before becoming a professional assassin, you must attend several training sessions in order to master all of the techniques that an assassin must know and study, and one of those techniques is that when one area of your body is vulnerable, you must think of another strategy to strike your opponent. "B*tch, don't be too arrogant or you'll end up at Satan's door!" My assailant had laughed at my confidence once more. "Oh please, don't joke about it because you'll regret it, I swear," I said to my assailant, "because you'll be the one to wind up on Satan's doorstep, honey," I said coldly.

“I’m Fenrick. Alistair asked us to join your training today. He thought you could use a hand with the new recruits.” I stood recognizing the name. Fenrick had been an infamous assassin, I was surprised to see he had defected to Mercius. Behind him was a mixed bag of former assassins, totaling eight in all. Some of them appeared barely older than me. “You’re early.” I chuckled. “But that’s perfect. I want to assess the recruits today, so I know where to start. I think a nice game of hide and seek is in order.”

The blade struck the shield with a deafening crack, sparks of silver and black energy exploding outward, illuminating the bloodied faces of Gale, Levi, and the guardians. The assassin recoiled, its borrowed body convulsing as the void eyes widened in surprise. "The Shadowed One... claims you," it hissed, its voice a chorus of whispers from the abyss. But Alina's shield held the bond with Gale amplifying it, his golden aura weaving through like threads of sunlight reinforcing the night. Gale lunged forward, his claws rending the assassin's throat in a swift, brutal arc. Black ichor sprayed, the body crumpling like a discarded puppet, the void eyes dimming to lifeless gray.