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Mask that's breaths

Hi there.

You can call me Ryu.

(Though my employers prefer 'Asset.')

I'm the last thing your target ever sees.

I work for a group that eliminates people on orders.

Some call it a loan shark business — I call it survival.

I won't say I'm the best,

but I'm above average — trusted enough to get missions directly from the top.

I work clean.

No emotions..... Mostly.

I don't kill innocents.... Not anymore.

I don't take missions directly from clients.

That's handled by our seniors.

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Here's how our system works:

The Boss is at the top.

Under him are Captains.

Below them, the Senior Assassins.

Then us: Apprentices.

If we prove ourselves, we can become Seniors—and take on our own apprentices.

I trained under a Captain. Someone close to the Boss himself.

So, sometimes, I get direct orders: gather intel, eliminate targets, clean up messes.

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I wasn't always this way.

When I first joined, I refused missions.

They beat me nearly to death for disobedience.

But now?

Now, as a top apprentice, I can delegate low-level jobs.

That power... is a privilege.

"The kind that stains your palms even when you wash them."

A knife's edge between freedom and chains.

I used to think I could stay neutral—just follow orders.

But reality doesn't work that way.

And sometimes... when a grateful client thanks me with genuine tears,

I feel something stir.

Maybe a little pride.

Maybe a spark.

(But sparks die first in the dark.)"

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