The sewers beneath the merchant district smelled like boiling mold and regret, but Kaito had learned to breathe through his mouth and walk with the silence of someone who expected to be betrayed at every turn, and with each step closer to the Vellian estate's underground access hatch, he kept one hand on the grip of the ZeroSystem Mk-IX, the weight of the Echo Round inside reminding him that tonight wasn't just another kill, it was a test of whether he could still trust anyone in this world, or if every deal he made would rot from the inside like the city above them.
"We're not alone anymore," Lilyeth whispered, pressing two fingers against the tunnel wall, "There's blood magic lingering in the cracks, weak—probably a scout spell, but recent, within the hour."
Kaito didn't respond immediately, instead kneeling beside the hatch and checking the bolts—untouched, dusty, the kind of undisturbed that meant either this tunnel hadn't been opened in months or whoever had come through had the keys to the estate, which told him two things at once: the noble either had a traitor among his staff, or someone higher up was puppeteering both the Needle and the target for reasons he hadn't yet seen, and either way, it meant this assassination was no longer about money, but message.
"Open it slow," Kaito said, "We go quiet, scout the cellar, secure the vantage, no shots until I call it."
"Assuming the trap hasn't already been sprung," Lilyeth muttered, but she did as ordered, lifting the iron hatch with steady hands, letting the stale scent of wine barrels and velvet rugs drift down like a memory from a past life, and once the way was clear, she disappeared upward with feline grace, her blade already drawn and her ears twitching for movement.
Kaito followed next, gun drawn, crouching into the shadows beside an overturned barrel, eyes scanning for sigils or pressure glyphs, but what struck him wasn't the silence—it was the presence of it, like the room was holding its breath, expecting violence, and when he finally stood upright, he saw why.
The wine cellar was lit.
Not by torches.
By candles, evenly spaced, lining the walls like a ritual chamber, and at the far end stood three masked figures in black velvet robes, their hands folded in front of them, as if they'd been waiting for hours, and in front of them on a silver tray sat a sealed envelope with his name etched in blood-red ink.
Lilyeth froze beside him.
"That's not Needle protocol," she whispered, "We never sign targets in the open."
"They're not Needle," Kaito said, stepping forward, Echo Round loaded, trigger half-squeezed, "They're not even pretending."
The central figure stepped forward, unmasking slowly, revealing a young man with golden eyes, a noble's insignia on his throat, and the kind of smile that made Kaito's trigger finger twitch.
"Kaito Sumeragi," the man said, "Or should I say, the Gun Saint of the Lower Wards. We've been following your rise with great interest."
"I'm not for hire," Kaito said flatly, "Especially not to people who stage fake hits."
"Oh, but the contract was real," the noble replied, gesturing to the envelope, "You were meant to kill Sir Vellian, yes, but not for coin—for credibility. We wanted to see how far you'd go without asking why."
Kaito narrowed his eyes, "And who is 'we'?"
"The Guild of Veiled Order," the man said calmly, "And you've just completed your entrance exam."
Silence fell like a sword between them.
Kaito didn't lower his weapon, not even when the man smiled wider and continued.
"Your target still lives, upstairs, protected by fools who don't even know they're guarding a traitor to the crown. You have two options: finish the hit, take our coin, and join the Order... or walk away, and hope the Church doesn't find the bounty we put on your head this morning."
Lilyeth stepped closer, her voice low, "This is a setup, Kaito. They want to use you. Again."
"I know," he replied quietly, not taking his eyes off the noble.
The Echo Round spun in the chamber.
One shot. Two echoes.
And the beginning of something bigger than both of them.
Kaito didn't lower his weapon, not even when the silence began to stretch thin like string about to snap, he just stared at the golden-eyed noble who stood with the kind of arrogance that came from knowing the city wouldn't punish him for anything, even this, and that alone almost made Kaito pull the trigger, because nothing in this world or the last pissed him off more than being expected to play along with someone's script without seeing the damn pages first, but this wasn't Neo-Tokyo and he wasn't in black ops anymore, so he did the one thing that made every manipulator nervous—he started laughing.
"You staged an assassination request, leaked it to informants, placed a fake bounty, and then waited here with a welcome letter?" Kaito said, shaking his head as he holstered the gun without breaking eye contact, "You people are either brilliant or the most desperate theater club I've ever seen."
The noble's smug grin twitched, just a little, which was enough to confirm to Kaito that this wasn't the usual cult-of-rich-morons kind of operation, because amateurs flinched when you didn't play their game, and this guy didn't flinch, he calculated, adjusted, and nodded like a man already updating the next ten steps in his mind.
"We prefer the term 'strategists,'" the noble replied, folding his hands behind his back, "And yes, we orchestrated everything to measure your utility, your improvisation, and your moral flexibility."
"Moral flexibility?" Kaito echoed, "Buddy, I killed a man who sold kids two nights ago. If that's your idea of a moral line, you're not watching closely."
"You killed him without confirming the employer," the noble replied, unbothered, "You operated solo, without backers, and eliminated a sitting lord with a single bullet, while leaving zero witnesses, yet here you are, still unknown to the city guard, the Church, and even the Needle, who believe you're a ghost story."
"That's because I work alone," Kaito said, stepping closer, his tone flattening, "I don't join guilds. I don't kneel. And I don't get bossed around by candlelight sociopaths in wine basements."
Lilyeth shifted slightly, tension still coiled in her posture, but she watched Kaito with curiosity now, not worry, because something had shifted in his tone—not cockiness, but something more dangerous, calm intent, the kind that made her rethink her own assessment of him, because if this was how he dealt with shadow guilds, then maybe he wasn't just some gun-toting merc from another world, maybe he was building something, slowly, one kill at a time.
"We don't want to own you," the noble said after a pause, "We want to invest in you, Mr. Sumeragi, help you expand your tools, give you access to contacts, supply chains, even business fronts—blacksmiths, merchants, mercenary networks, anything you need to grow your own operations."
"And in return?" Kaito asked, his eyes narrowing.
"Only results," the noble said, "Targets removed. Networks dismantled. Rivals neutralized. No contracts you don't approve. You stay autonomous—but profitable."
Kaito turned to Lilyeth, who shrugged with a dry smile, "If it's a trap, it's a very expensive one."
Kaito took the envelope, opened it with one flick of his knife, scanned the contents, and saw the full dossier—Sir Vellian's real crimes, his double books, his ties to the trafficking ring Kaito had already suspected, and beneath it, a sealed pouch containing two coins stamped with the mark of the Guild of Veiled Order, and that was what sealed it—not loyalty, not trust, but usefulness, because if these people had this much data already, then they could serve his plan better alive than dead.
"One trial contract," Kaito said, his tone final, "I kill Vellian, but if I smell betrayal, you'll be the next name on my bullet."
The noble smiled and bowed.
"Understood. Welcome to the veil."
As Kaito turned toward the spiral stairs leading upward, gun now fully drawn and locked with a Frostbite Round for silence and pain, Lilyeth stepped in beside him and muttered under her breath, "So much for staying invisible."
"I'm not going public," Kaito said quietly, "I'm going underground."
And as they slipped into the manor above, cloaked in silence, the game officially began.
The moment Kaito stepped out of the cellar and into the manor's stone corridors, it became clear that the job wouldn't be as quiet as advertised, because instead of the one guard patrol he expected based on the dossier, there were now two squads moving in cycles, armed with crossbows and enchanted lanterns that flickered with detection runes, and Kaito immediately pulled Lilyeth into a dark alcove behind a curtain, pressing his back to the wall and whispering without looking at her, "They upped security, someone tipped them off or the noble downstairs is playing both sides."
"Could be coincidence," she whispered back, though even she didn't sound convinced, "Or maybe they just have more to hide than what's in the paperwork."
Kaito didn't respond, not out of hesitation but because his eyes had already locked onto the pattern of the rotating guards, noting the six-second blind spot between turns, the lazy drag in the left guard's step, and the one broken floor tile that caused every armored boot to tap just slightly louder when crossing it, which meant they could time their steps to that sound and mask their own movement, and that was exactly what they did, gliding through the hallway like smoke slipping through cracks, ducking into cover every time the lantern light even hinted at swinging their way.
The door to Vellian's quarters was locked with a mana-sealed latch, but Kaito had already learned enough from the local alchemist to understand the glyphwork—he pressed the butt of his gun to the latch and channeled a shockburst round into the mechanism, shorting the enchantment without firing, and the door clicked open a second later, quiet enough that even Lilyeth raised an eyebrow.
"You're learning fast," she muttered, impressed.
"I didn't come here to die stupid," Kaito replied, stepping in.
Inside, the room was exactly what he expected from a corrupt noble—plush carpets, too many books he hadn't read, a painting of himself mid-sword swing, and a crystal decanter of wine beside a bed too large for one man, but what caught Kaito's eye wasn't the luxury, it was the hidden panel behind the bookshelf that had just creaked open as they entered, and the two cloaked figures who stepped out aiming wands directly at them.
Kaito fired first.
The Inferno Round struck the floor between the mages, exploding in a silent flash of flame and pressure that knocked them back into the wall, unconscious but alive, because Kaito didn't need a kill count, he needed a clean line to Vellian, who burst out of the side chamber a second later wearing a panic robe and clutching a dagger like a man who thought screaming might count as defense.
"You—You're the assassin!" Vellian shouted, pointing the blade with both hands like it might scare them.
Kaito stepped forward, gun raised, calm as a whisper, and said nothing, because this wasn't a debate, it was a transaction, and Vellian's life had already been bought.
"No—No, wait! I can pay double!" Vellian pleaded, falling back against the bed, "Triple! You don't understand what's really happening in this kingdom!"
Kaito paused, just a second, because that was the kind of line that came with hidden truths and messy consequences, but before he could ask, Lilyeth pulled a throwing knife and nailed the dagger clean out of Vellian's hands, embedding it in the wall beside his head, and Vellian froze, sweat pouring down his face like wax.
"We understand more than you think," Lilyeth said coldly, "You sold girls to nobles. You funneled weapons to slavers. You framed half your rivals and let the Church hang them."
"No proof," Vellian whispered, "You'll never prove it."
"Don't need to," Kaito replied, aiming at the man's chest, "This isn't court. This is cleanup."
And with a single pull of the trigger, the Echo Round fired.
No sound. No flash. Just a ripple of air and Vellian falling backward with a hole in his chest and a look of disbelief frozen in place, like he hadn't really believed anyone would kill him until the bullet had passed through.
Kaito stood still, eyes locked on the corpse, then turned to Lilyeth and said, "Burn everything. We leave no trace."
As she moved to gather materials, he knelt beside the body and retrieved a signet ring from Vellian's hand, then slid it into his pouch, not as a trophy but as a potential key—because nobles always had locked doors somewhere, and sometimes the best way to get in was with the finger of the man who used to own the house.
They slipped out through the servant's passage, unseen, the smoke already curling behind them.
By the time the guards noticed the fire, Kaito and Lilyeth were long gone, vanishing into the alleyways below the manor hill, cloaks tight, heads down, steps silent.
But as they turned a corner into a dead-end alley to swap disguises, they found someone waiting—a masked man in silver robes with the mark of the Church stitched into his chest, leaning against the wall with arms folded and voice calm as water.
"You've just started a war you don't understand."
Kaito didn't blink.
He just raised the gun.