The war room smelled of sweat and ink. Maps and crumpled reports sprawled across the long wooden table.
Eel sat at the head, elbows planted, eyes sharper than the daggers strapped to his belt. His gaze cut across the recruits like a scalpel choosing where to cut.
"Group missions were for trial," he said, scarred lips barely moving beneath eyes that had witnessed a thousand deaths and ordered a thousand more.
"After tonight, you all will be free to carry out the missions on your own. No partner. No crutch. No second shadow. You succeed, or you fail alone."
Silence pressed down like a hand over every mouth.
Ryu stood rigid in the line of trainees, spine locked. Blood still stained her tunic from the practice, and her mind replayed faces she wanted to forget.
Eel flicked a folder open.
"Shiku."
Her name struck like a stone dropped into still water. She stepped forward.
He slid a thin envelope across the table.
Ryu opened the envelope and laid it out. A grainy photograph stared back at her: a man in plain clothes, late thirties, eyes hollow but alive. Not the monster she expected. Just… tired.
"Target: informant. Dangerous if left breathing. Orders are clear." Eel's eyes narrowed. "You'll take him tonight. Swift and quiet."
Ryu's throat tightened. Her hand hovered before she forced herself to take the folder. Paper rasped against her fingers, feeling heavier.
Eel leaned closer, voice lowered so only she could hear. "The group mission tested you as the blade. This one will test your will. No hesitation."
Her lips betrayed her before her discipline could stop them. "And if…" The words scratched her throat. "If he's ino— unarmed?"
Eel's stare burned into her. "Then he dies unarmed. Don't mistake mercy for strength."
The room held its breath.
Ryu bowed her head.
"Yes, Captain."
Later that night, when she stood in the alley with the target in her sights,
The whispers of people echoed louder than the order that bound her.