Five minutes had passed since Kevin lost consciousness.
Chuckle.
"Heh heh heh, hahaha…"
The chuckle began as a slow, deliberate rumble, like the calm before a storm. It soon transformed into a burst of laughter, echoing through the dimly lit alleyway and dissipating into the oppressive silence that followed.
A figure appeared from the same alley where Kevin was looking until his body was gone against his will and made him fall unconscious.
Unfortunately for Kevin, his assailant is someone who plays dirty, someone who hides in the shadows and then waits for the prey to fall and then watches their desperate attempts like an entertainment show.
His physique indicated that he was a man, but the complete black clothes made it difficult to be completely certain. His entire face was concealed by a black mask—blurred and impenetrable—shielding his identity even from those with a knack for uncovering secrets in the darkness.
The only glaring fact one can use to remember him is two small, jet-black dots enhancing the mask, pointing outward like symbols of his status within the hierarchy of a mysterious and secretive organization.
He took slow and steady steps toward Kevin's unconscious body, ready for any counter.
Who knows, this boy is just trying to fish him out by acting unconscious; after all, he has watched more than half of the fight along with the ruthlessness and quick thinking of this boy, so being a little paranoid is not a bad thing, especially if someone is in a business like this.
He kicked Kevin a few times to make sure that he was truly unconscious.
Once satisfied that Kevin was truly unconscious, he crouched down beside him, close enough to examine carefully every detail of Kevin's face.
The masked man stared as one might examine a rare and invaluable artifact, its true worth known only to the keenest of appraisers.
"What an interesting and terrifying boy; he also appears to be quite fit for his age with almost no traces of unnecessary fat," the masked man muttered under his breath.
The light in his eyes flickered with a dangerous curiosity, a hunger for answers that could only be satisfied by unraveling Kevin's mysteries.
The masked man turned his attention toward the woman standing in the corner of the alley, her body trembling like a leaf caught in a violent gust of wind. She is scared, truly scared, of this person who has appeared in front of her.
Ignoring her scared demeanor, the masked man spoke in a pleased tone.
"You've found me an interesting catch, little girl. This one's truly exceptional. Provided he doesn't come with a troublesome background, our pay will be at least triple the amount they promised us. The more persistent their subject, the more valuable he becomes. And this one… this one is undoubtedly top-tier material."
The woman nodded her head with fervent desperation, a motion so quick and repetitive that she resembled a duckling obediently following its mother.
Her instincts had always been razor-sharp, honed by her living conditions—a survival skill that had saved her life many times.
From the moment Kevin handed her his smartphone and asked her to call the police, her intuition had flared like a siren, warning her of impending danger. A wave of dread overtook her, urging her to act against the fear of breaking rules of organization.
The moment Kevin took down his first target, she had made a decision that would have seemed impossible under ordinary circumstances.
She dialed the number of this city's operation in charge—the individual responsible not only for her team but for many others scattered across the region.
Her voice trembled as she spoke, a fragile thread weaving through her words. But rather than providing a detailed explanation, she whispered just a few, fleeting phrases: "A very big problem has happened, sir. Please save us."
With that, she ended the call, her hands shaking uncontrollably.
In reality, she clung to a little more than no hope that her superior would respond to her call for help. She knew all too well her place within the hierarchy of their organization.
She was just one of the countless girls assigned a role that relied on her innocent appearance—a carefully well-chosen facade meant to lure unsuspecting men into traps. Her job was simple yet cold: keep their targets distracted and occupied while her team ran background checks to ensure the men had no troublesome affiliations—whether ties to government agencies, powerful organizations, or family connections to influential corporate empires.
But the way she had phrased her message was hurried and incomplete.
To her ears, it sounded like little more than the ramblings of someone begging for a lifeline. The chances of her superior interpreting her plea as a potential trap seemed almost certain. And yet, against all odds, the world seemed to have tilted ever so slightly in her favor.
Who could have imagined that a second-ranked superior—someone far above her in the clandestine chain of command—would appear in response to her frantic call?
The air in the alley was thick with tension as the man in the black mask stepped forward, his figure dominating the dimly lit space.
He cast no more than a single glance at the three men lying motionless on the ground. His expression, obscured behind the mask, betrayed no emotion, and yet his presence carried a weight that made her knees feel weak.
With a single, deliberate sweep of his cold eyes, he assessed the scene and declared, "Today, in the process of completing our task, we ended up with three casualties."
His words carried the weight of absolute authority, unchallenged and final. It mattered not whether the men were truly dead or simply unconscious.
His declaration rendered their state irrelevant. If he decided they were casualties, then casualties they would remain. The woman knew better than to question him, for she understood the unspoken rule: hesitation—even for a fraction of a second—could cost her dearly, so she nodded like her life depended on it.
The masked man observed her for a few seconds; satisfied with her obedience, he gave a He gave a slight nod and reached into his pocket, pulling out a device that seemed both familiar and alien. It resembled a smartphone in form, yet its design was bulkier, its features more highly developed—an instrument of a technology not meant for ordinary hands.
With practiced ease, he dialed a number and spoke in a tone devoid of any trace of emotion. "Required material found. Identification is required to proceed with the shipment."
From the other end of the line, a mechanical voice responded, devoid of emotion. "Details required."
Without hesitation, the masked man approached Kevin's unconscious body. He pressed the device against Kevin's fingertip, and after a brief pause, a green tick illuminated the screen, signaling the successful scanning of his fingerprint.
The display shifted, now demanding a blood sample to complete the identification process. The man activated a sharp edge on the corner of the device, a blade so precise it barely left a mark. With a swift motion, he made a shallow cut on Kevin's wrist for a small amount of blood to be absorbed into the device, which vibrated moments later.
The screen lit up, revealing a detailed profile of Kevin Ashcroft.
NAME : Kevin Ashcroft
AGE: 22
NATIONALITY: Shalenpore
PROFESSION: Assistant Professor and Surgeon in Integrative Medical Genomics.
BLOOD RELATIVES: None
CONNECTIONS: National Institute of Medical Association
CLASSIFICATION: Grade 1
FATHER'S NAME: Robin Ashcroft
CLASSIFICATION: Grade 1.5
MOTHER'S NAME: Reina Ashcroft
CLASSIFICATION: Grade 1.5
Looking at Kevin's government profile, the masked man can not help but tremble after thinking about all possible rewards he can get for bringing such a top-quality material, which is just a few years away from reaching grade 1.5 classification. Despite being in such a situation with no great background and blood ties in this world, he is like a walking gem for any keeper family or even government.
Who would have thought that a random call he answered to dispel his boredom would give him such a big chance? It's like a pie has fallen straight into his lap without him doing anything.
"Prepare for the next phase," he commanded, his voice sharp and authoritative.
"His value exceeds our initial expectations, which means we'll need to execute the transfer with utmost precision. Any mistakes, however small, will not be tolerated.
He looked at the knife still stuck inside kevin for a moment.
"Also, ask them to come with medical assistance; I don't want my goose that will lay the golden egg for me to die from bleeding."
"Yes, sir," the lady replied.
The masked man studied Kevin's profile once more. The information displayed on the device was precise because it was stolen from his country's online identification portal, but still it's not enough to satisfy his curiosity, only if this device were to be on the same level as those with higher rank.
While the man was busy comparing his device in his thoughts, the lady spoke after few minutes.
"Sir, I have informed the transporters about the change in pickup location, and to avoid this city's cameras and inspections, they will take at least 17 minutes to take him away."
The man just nodded in his reply.