A simple perception floods my mind, There are good people, there are bad people, and there are people like me.
I'm no good, nor bad,
Am I neutral? Probably not.
I am simply a person picking up calls, when they want to take someone out.
I'm no assassin, nor mercenary.
I am simply a man capable of many things. Many, dangerous things.
A sharp piercing tone echoes throughout the room—my clock. Like an annoying rooster in a morning day, I just want to choke the life out of it.
I lift my hand to stop it, it didn't.
I slap it again, and it still rang.
For the last bit of effort, I stabbed it.
From the knife hiding beneath my sheets.
It was no good day.
To simply takeaway the simple introduction,
My name is Bob, I work as an employer for a corporation called 'Bounty Services'.
It was a lame name, but the pay is good,
atleast.
Bob! Hurry your ass out here.
It was Old Roger, our callman.
An annoying voice, once you hear him calling you.
you know you got job.
What's the coin call? I asked.
"Tails." He answered.
A simple answer, a no brainer for us.
A code that depicts that they want someone to be captured.
A parallel line between the predator and the prey, and just the thought of it salivates me.
Like a dog on a leash waiting to be released.
This is our guy.
22 years old, male, university student.
"What's his name?" A curious blunt. I've never received a no name, atleast for the 10 years I've been in this job.
"You'll know."
A weird, calm yet interesting answer.
A question forms into my mind,
A screw up? Yet my impulsive thoughts are not hindered.
"I see, I hoped you picked a better opponent for me."
OLD ROGER POV:
It was a nail piercing answer, just as I thought, this kid is sharp.
He worked for more than 10 years in the club, as a pay for his Father's gambling addiction, he was sold as a slave working tirelessly for the military in expense for his Father's debt.
A thin, arrogant kid, that's my first impression of him.
Yet everything of it shatters.
As a callman I worked tirelessly to accompany the request of the military, both physical and papers. By the company I created 'Bounty Services' we exist as a grenade and a fishing pole for them, either they want a man, or take someone out, it is the duty of my company to fullfil.
But their demands were incomprehensible.
We worked tirelessly to achieve their needs yet their men just simply lacks the ability and the skills to do what they are told.
They are eager to prove something to the royals, like a kid doing stupid things just to get the attention of others, that's how I see them.
Gorbo, codename: Rook, He was one of my employees, A skilled and strong man, capable of destroying hundreds of people by himself.
I sent him to train the soldiers, and as a cliche, he fight all of them, and as usual they all fail.
But all of a sudden a hand raised from the crowd requesting for a match-up.
It was bob, the thin kid.
Laughter filled the air as he walked closely to the ring.
He first fought one of the soldiers from the soldier' squad, Philip.
He tucked his other hand from his back, a form of mockery and respect for him.
"Come on now kid, show me whattya got"
He said with a mocking expression.
The generals and the other personels watched the fight, everyone betted on how many seconds the kid's gonna last.
Some betted 5, the others better 4 .
On a blink of an eye, the soldier went flying.
The commotion stopped, and others were bewildered.
A sight shattering ego from the squad, one by one they walk to him and he skillfully defeat them all.
"This is ridiculous." The soldiers mumbled.
"Let me fight him boss" a thin voice, it was Gorbo, my employee.
"Don't go all out". I whispered.
"Nah, show me whattya got".
I was surprised, bewildered, excited.
Finally for the last decade I found another one.
"He heard us? He's no kid boss."
Gorbo added.
"Tails."
"Alright boss."