I lay perfectly still on my bed, breathing slow and steady. To any observer, I would appear deeply asleep. But every fiber of my being was alert, tracking the assassin's movements through my enhanced senses.
The intruder had been circling my building for ten minutes now. Professional. Patient. Definitely not some amateur looking for quick bounty money.
My door creaked open with barely a whisper of sound. Impressive stealth work, but useless against someone at my level. I could hear the assassin's heartbeat, smell the leather of their equipment, feel the displacement of air as they moved.
They paused inside the doorway. Scanning. Evaluating. I kept my breathing perfectly regular, maintaining the illusion of deep sleep.
Soft footsteps approached my bed. The killer moved like liquid shadow, each step placed with surgical precision. This level of technique spoke to years of specialized training.
A ninja. Had to be.
