I heard him, loud and clear - "Go and kill these two, and come for your payment without protesting" - The Nerve! After so much I've brought to this mafia, after so much work, and so many connections, I am the motherfucking GUNJOB Assassin, the bad bitch that made sure that this "New Fleur Mafia" doesn't wane into complete obscurity and gets replaced by the street gangs they love to hire.

  I hated it, ever since a week ago, where that stitched up freak Tobias wanted to have his way with me instead of going to his little Francois boy toy. I knew I should've just shot both in the spot, but I was both outnumbered and outclassed, unless my brothers got earlier, I could've ambushed them then and there!

  But oh well, they'll be coming tomorrow anyways, and I'm already out of the "Duport Chateau", which was actually owned by some Frankish general back when the Franks owned this part of the country. Francois never owned anything himself, and his Duport Chateau is proof that he'll sulk on his pompous chair over doing anything else, the mansion is in heavy disrepair anyways, and new coats of paint won't replace the rotten planks, the oxidizing silverware, nor the diminishing wages and numbers of the common soldiers.

  "Today would've been the day" I tell myself. After this I would be swimming in money, bathing in fine wine, going to conferences with the New Fleur bosses, maybe even become my own Caporegime, I'd be in the pinnacle like Tobias Sharp is. But no luck for little old me. The lock is easy to pick, the bedroom is very obviously upstairs. This would mean a net of 300 thousand wired straight to my account, but as it stands, I've been robbed of it, of my titles, to be on a such a level I'd get bossed around by the god-damn Sheriff of all people, the same gal that obsesses over her murder husband.

  And wouldn't you look at that, there's the two of them, sleeping on the same bed, I recognize the Germanian instantly, if I remember correctly from fucked-up-face Toby, a decorated veteran no less. And side by side what looks like his partner in crime, or girlfriend. They both look like they could handle themselves, and if I play my cards right, my brothers will arrive the minute all hell is let loose on the Chateau

  I pick the nicest knife I could get, a bayonet coated in rose gold I stole from the cold dead hands of Francois' wife. And stab it with the letter on the wall, surely a decorated war veteran would help me, and maybe that girl too.

  As I clear out, I find a nice letter hidden behind a bunch of gossip magazines, and lo and behold, the letter written by Ganon, I knew he was smart, but not that smart. I grab the letter, obviously. And I hope that he'll burn in hell for all eternity, knowing that his death was greatly beneficial to my career. By the end of the week, I'll have the New Fleur paying ME some tribute.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Finding their house wasn't easy, but with the help of the landowner I had on a leash, and the very descriptive letter of my burnt, perforated friend. And talking about land, I'll settle in that little hotel near the Warestore to not have to walk all that much at noon. I wonder how badly the sheriff will cry when I tell her that her sweetheart is "dead", but that's not to trouble me, I'll dispose of her finely later for being such an acrid whore.

  The sun shines out of the windows and burns my face, and I knew I had to wake up. Soon enough, I'll get to properly meet that GI and his wife. I check the time and I see that it's bright 9 in the morning, so I strap my fine bandolier, connect the ends to my humble suitcase that has seen more blood than a surgeon, and after going out to eat some donuts to give me some energy, I find myself dining with her majesty herself.

  - "Didn't think I get to see you today Ms. Sheriff" - I said to her, being glad her size blocked off the sun - "How are you doing today?"

  - "I'm doing quite fine myself, although I still wonder, what about my Andreas, is he safe?" - She said, and here was my perfect chance, I know how much she loves her little boy toy, and ruining it for her after having to endure her for this long felt so right - "Please tell me he's safe, It'd crush my heart if he's hurt in any way"

  - "Oh yeah, he's dead, deader than Francois' wife, probably busy getting judged by the lord above" - I told her, and I waited, I watched her face wrinkle, her eyes widen, she looked like she's seen a ghost, is she really buying my lie? - "He put up a fight alright, but sadly he didn't cover that pretty neck of his good enough"

  - "You did not, Daniel" - She said, my full name no less! She truly believed my lie. And I saw her tear up, almost as if she lost a loved one and not a victim of her incessant and obsessive stalking. - "You knew how much I loved him, please tell me this is just a sick joke of yours"

  - "Oh but it ain't a joke," - I tell her, deciding to be more spiteful towards her, insult her directly to see what the "mighty image of justice" will do - "maybe if FLA or you bought me some god-damn rope I wouldn't have needed to do it, but since you were so insistent on stripping me of everything I owned, there goes your little hubby"

  And I watched, I watched how she made herself sparse, while yelling a myriad of insults at me, crying, she knew that even though I've been demoted, she can't do shit about me. And I don't care whether she'll go to her station, to the chateau, or to the gun store, as long as she remains very far away from the Warestore, I'll be completely fine.

  I check my watch, and I see that it's already nearly 12. I decide to eat the sheriff's leftover donut before parting, going to the dining restaurant.

  Inside it, I already found one of my associates, who guided me to the seat, he wasn't allowed to ask any questions, nor report for Francois, in exchange, I'll give him a nice pay check once we finish rooting out the traitors, the framers, and the crying princess.

  I ordered the usual, and watched as some nice Cajun shrimps were served to my table, alongside some Blanc de Noirs, fine dining since next week I'll either be 6 foot under, or the traitors at the NFM will be.

  And speaking about money, I see that wannabe cowboy and the dead corpse of East Germania approach my table, I supported my knees on the table, ready to talk with them about what happened.