With the spy slung over Victor's shoulder like a ragdoll, the C-rank mission finally nears its end.
"Alright, Leon. Shall we deliver him to the rendezvous point?" Victor asks calmly.
"Hold on!" Leon blurts, throwing up his hands. "We're not just gonna skip past the fact that you made a trained soldier shit himself! What the hell was that injection!?"
Victor's lips curl into that unnerving, polite smile.
"Oh, that? Nothing too complicated. A toxin I crafted myself. It scrambles the nerves of whoever I inject—makes their body move in ways their mind never intended."
As they walk through the city streets toward the drop-off building Raven provided, Leon stares at him, mouth half-open.
"So you're telling me," Leon says slowly, "all that crazy flailing around earlier was because his nerves were scrambled?"
"Precisely." Victor's tone is patient, like a teacher explaining basic math.
"Picture it this way: his brain told him to move left, but his body went down. Brain says up, body turns sideways. His signals get misinterpreted, every movement becomes chaos. That is the first effect of my magnificent Destabilizer."
Leon's eyes widen.
"Wait—FIRST effect? You're telling me there's a second?!"
"Yes," Victor replies, voice dropping into a whispery excitement. "The second effect is… fear."
Leon gulps.
Victor continues, clearly enjoying every word.
"When the toxin enters the bloodstream, the first thirty seconds destroy coordination. After that, everything in the victim's sight becomes terrifying. Their world becomes a nightmare even if nothing is happening. It freezes them in place. Which is why our little spy so kindly lost control when I started listing options."
Leon grimaces.
"That's… horrifying. And you made that just for fun?!"
"I made it on request," Victor corrects. "A certain Mr. Diddy wanted it a few years ago, but, unfortunately, he got locked up before I could deliver. Shame, really."
Leon shakes his head.
"First Axel and his chemical explosions, now this." Everyone here is out of their goddamn minds.
"Come now," Victor adds casually. "You should have expected this. After all, I'm the one who taught Axel everything he knows about mixing chemicals to create explosions."
Leon freezes mid-step.
"You WHAT?!"
Flashbacks from Leon's first mission—blood raining, bodies bursting—crash into his mind.
"So you're saying the nightmare I lived through was because of you!?" Leon shouts.
"Indeed," Victor says without a hint of guilt. "Axel is naturally gifted, but in the realm of chemical compounds, I am unmatched. Passing down some of my knowledge seemed… appropriate. And I see he's learned beautifully."
Leon stares at him in disbelief.
"I swear… I hope the rest of the squad is less psychotic than you two. Oh wait—" He looks ahead. "Isn't that the rendezvous point?"
A small, plain brick building stands across the street.
"Correct," Raven says through the earpiece. "That's where the military unit is waiting. Drop him off, and the mission is done."
"Fine," Leon mutters. "Let's just get this over with."
Victor calmly pushes open the door.
Inside, uniformed army representatives wait. Without a word, Victor lays the unconscious spy at their feet. Paperwork is signed, a few terse nods exchanged.
***
An hour later, Leon and Victor are on the train heading back home. The sun dips low over Seattle, the car mostly empty.
Leon slumps against the seat, exhausted.
My body hurts. My face hurts. My pride hurts. But… at least no one exploded this time. Maybe I'll actually get some sleep tonight. I wonder what they're gonna do to that spy…
He turns his head and notices Victor next to him, brows furrowed. For the first time, the giant man looks… distressed.
"Hey," Leon says, blinking. "You okay, big guy?"
Victor hesitates, lips tight.
"I… I need to poop," he says finally.
Leon blinks twice.
"Oh. Well, the bathroom's that way, so just get up and—"
"Leon," Victor interrupts, voice strained. "I apologize in advance."
"Huh?"
Victor stands, steps in front of Leon—and starts undoing his pants.
"Whoa, WHOA! What kind of freaky bullshit are you on?!" Leon screams, trying to climb over the seat.
"I need to go!" Victor bellows, veins bulging on his forehead.
Before Leon can escape, Victor squats and relieves himself right there on Leon's lap, sighing with immense satisfaction.
"NOOOO!" Leon howls, tears welling in his eyes. "Why is this my life?!"
Today I learned something new, Leon thinks in utter misery.
Victor Harrow can't use a toilet like a normal human. He needs a human body. And no, I don't know why. I don't want to know why.
***
Four days later.
Hong Kong, China.
Inside a dark office littered with corpses, a phone rings.
"Hello, Roxie. How's the S-rank mission?" Raven's voice asks through the line.
"Hey, Raven!" A woman's voice answers, sultry but tinged with exhaustion. "Finally wrapped it up. Took me three months to track this skinny fuck down. Can you believe it? Mafia teaming up with the triads. What a mess."
"I take it you completed the list and gathered the information?" Raven asks.
"All dead. Got everything we needed. I'll hand the files to Larry, and they'll end up where they need to. After that? I'm heading back home tomorrow. Might even try to get some real dick while I'm here—Chinese dick just doesn't hit right."
"Please… stay focused on the mission," Raven replies with a tired sigh.
The unseen woman chuckles as she strides toward the exit, high heels clicking against the blood-stained floor.
"Relax. Nobody in this squad—besides the captain—is more capable than me. You know that," she says confidently.
The call ends.
The heavy door closes behind her.
As it latches shut, the flickering lights of the office finally reveal the carnage: dozens of mafia and triad bodies scattered across the floor, walls painted in dried crimson.