'Caution first'
It was one of his priorities. He wore gloves, followed by sunglasses and a hat, making him difficult to identify.
He exited the Jeep, parked at a distance, and continued the journey on foot. Entering the building, he noticed it was completely empty—even security.
His eyes scanned the corners as he made his way up to the top floor.
'Good, they turned off the cameras.'
Their inability to handle simple tasks always annoyed him. It left him with even more problems to fix.
Standing in front of the door, he glanced at his watch, calculated the time, and, after taking a deep breath, walked in.
Chaos dominated the office. A shattered glass table, scattered glasses, and the most striking sight—a girl's body lying face down on the floor, drenched in blood, with no signs of life.
"Vio! Vio!" one of the young men called out desperately. "Vio, do something! It wasn't my fault…"
The young man clung to Vio's arm, pleading for help, but Vio brushed him off, surveying the scene.
'Five Teenagers and a girl. Alcohol and illegal substances on the table. Accidental death.'
"Calm down," Vio said, grabbing the man to steady him.
He patted his shoulder with one hand while holding the other against his temple, examining him more closely.
'Pupils dilated. He's taken something.'
His gaze shifted to the man's blood-soaked clothes.
'Good.'
Leaving him behind, Vio knelt beside the girl. He placed two fingers—one beneath her nose and the other on her carotid artery.
'No breath. No pulse.'
He needed to confirm, as most of his clients tended to jump to the worst conclusions.
"H-how is she?" the young man stammered, his voice trembling.
"She's better off than all of you, and your problems are bigger than hers," Vio replied, addressing the group. His words triggered a wave of sobbing among them.
Their reaction was natural—they were just teenagers trying to enjoy themselves. Not every thrill ends in bliss, though. Vio understood their feelings better than anyone, but he was the last person to care.
Ignoring the irrelevant faces, he focused on the most important one.
"Calm down, Sav," Vio said, approaching the young man who had initially rushed toward him. Sav was nearly unresponsive. "Sav, look at me."
After several attempts, Sav finally came to.
"Vio…" Sav's tears mixed with his sniffles. "What are we going to do?"
"It's simple. Follow my orders," Vio said while gripping Sav's shoulder, turning to the others. "All of you."
They all nodded in agreement.
'Good. That will make things easier.'
Vio was about to begin when a man in his fifties barged into the office, followed by some of the building's security.
The moment Sav saw him, he rushed toward the man just as he had done with Vio earlier.
"Dad!"
Vio frowned internally.
'Damn it. Why is he here?'
Halfway, the man slapped his son.
"Smack!"
Sav froze in place as Vio turned his back to the scene.
"The elections are right around the corner, and you bring a problem like this at such a critical time!"
Sav lowered his head, unable to say anything.
"Vio," the man addressed him, prompting Vio to turn around. "Do your job."
"Of course."
As they walked away, Vio swiftly scanned the area once more.
'There's nothing here. Something has to be done.'
He pushed himself out of the office, caught up with the group, and, using his shoulders, kept pushing past the security guards, forcing his way through. Wrapping an arm around Sav's shoulders.
"What are you doing?" Sav's father shouted.
"I'm doing the job you called me for," Vio replied. Without waiting for a response, he kicked open the bathroom door and shoved Sav inside, causing him to stumble onto the floor.
"Are you insane?"
Vio shut the door and turned to him.
"Take off your clothes," he ordered coldly, tone matching his icy stares.
"What?"
'If they're bringing in an expert, why ask questions?'
"Look at your clothes."
Sav glanced down at himself and understood Vio's point—his condition was disastrous. However, his reaction was sluggish due to whatever substances he had consumed.
'Come on, man.'
Vio approached and gave him a light kick, enough to snap him out of it. Sav stood and began peeling off his clothes, tossing them onto the floor.
"Get inside and clean yourself up. Quickly."
The bathroom had a private shower stall. Sav stepped into one and turned on the water.
Meanwhile, Vio was on high alert.
He pulled Sav's phone from his pocket and scrolled through the photo album. He didn't stop until found pictures of Sav wearing the same clothes.
Comparing the images, he confirmed they matched. Then, he began deleting the photos after securing his own copies.
Next, he grabbed the bloodied clothes, cutting off identifiable pieces that matched the photos. Hastily, he pulled a plastic bag from his suit, stuffed the pieces inside, and hid the bag in the toilet tank.
He dumped the rest of Sav's clothes into a trash bin.
As Vio pulled out a lighter, Someone suddenly struck the door, causing the lock to break, and Sav's father barged in, finding the trash bin in flames.
"What exactly are you doing?" Sav's father asked, narrowing his eyes.
"What if a patrol catches you off guard? What if a random camera picks you up on the way? I'm just ensuring the job is done right," Vio replied, standing tall with a composed face.
Sav's father was clearly suspicious, but Vio handed him Sav's phone.
"I deleted the photos showing him in those clothes. I suggest you do the same when you get home."
Sav emerged, visibly shaken. Once the man was convinced his suspicions were unwarranted, he sighed and led his son out of the building.
After ensuring they had left, Vio retrieved the bag from the toilet and tucked it into his pocket. Returning to the crime scene, he addressed the group.
"No pointless questions. If you want to get out of this mess, follow my orders."
His gaze moved from one person to another, ensuring they all nodded in agreement.
Under Vio's direction, they wrapped the girl in a carpet, carried her to a black van, and loaded her into the back. One of them was forced to drive, while Vio sat beside him, leaving the others with the body in the back.
The city streets were like Vio's home; he knew where the cameras were and where patrols were stationed. With his guidance, they navigated the roads.
Amid the deadly silence that filled the car, they began to replay the events of the incident in their minds, as if reliving the moment all over again.
Where have things gone wrong? Whose fault was it? Questions like these lingered, broken only by the coarse voice of one of them.
"What did you do?" he screams, shoving the person next to him.
"What? Are you blaming me? Weren't you the one who brought her?" the other shot back, pushing him in return.
"Sav was the one who asked for it."
"Everyone, please shut up," another groaned, covering his ears in an attempt to block out the annoying voices. Unbeknownst to him, the sound wasn't coming from his friends but from his own conscience.
While the blame game continued, one of them stayed silent. When he finally spoke, his words brought the argument to a halt.
"Why didn't Sav come with us?"
The group turned to him, the realization slowly sinking in. Their focus shifted to the seat beside the driver—Vio—who sat lost in thought, desperately searching for a way to end the day, but finding none.
"Look at you," a voice taunted from the back, dripping with sarcasm. "Once the son of one of the wealthiest families, and now nothing more than their trash cleaner."
Vio didn't care much for insults, given the nature of his work. Reaction depended on the status of the mocker. A client? It didn't matter; they were paying. Not a client? No one had the right to speak.
Adjusting the rear-view mirror, Vio angled it to see the young man who had spoken.
He had recognized him back at the office but hadn't cared. Now that the boy wanted attention, why not give it to him?
"Sav isn't here with you because he has a father who could pay my fee," Vio said, removing his sunglasses. "If any of you can afford the same, just let me know, and I'll make sure you're in your bed tonight, just like your friend Sav."
Heads bowed, voices muffled, they recalled their status. The type to cling to the wealthy, allowing them to spend lavishly while feeding their egos as if they were masters with entourages—Vio knew this well from his family's peak.
Vio scrutinized who had spoken, recalling their childhood. The boy had often visited his home, pretending to be a friend—A friend who vanished when Vio's family declared bankruptcy.
"Since I can hear the hum of the engine, I assume none of you have any money, right?"
Their silence confirmed it.
"And you," Vio said, his cold eyes meeting who spoke through the mirror.
"I was once the son of a wealthy family, but now I'm the one cleaning up their mess. As for you, you've always been their trash—and still are. Your fate now lies in the hands of this 'trash cleaner.' Do you want to revisit our shared history?."
The trash bowed his head, clenching his fists. If he said anything, it might provoke Vio into acting. He had heard the stories—half terrifying, half unbelievable.
"Now, everyone be quiet. I'm trying to think here," Vio said sharply, restoring the silence in the car.
'Damn it. No matter how much I think, I'm going to be late. We'll just have to do it the old-school way.'
The car turned onto a forested path, jolting their bodies as it drove deeper into the wilderness.
"M-Mr. Vio, is this the right spot?" the driver stammered.
"Don't stop until I tell you. Keep going."
The car pushed further into the woods, the driver barely able to see ahead.
Stopping was not ordered until it was confirmed by Vio that the area was one typically avoided by those who enjoy sports.
"Here," Vio said, pointing to a spot while scanning the surroundings.
'This will do.'
Shovels were grabbed, and digging began.
Vio leaned against the van, its side door open, revealing the covered body inside.
"Should I be angry at you or pity you? I don't know," Vio muttered. "Angry because if you'd taken care of yourself, this wouldn't have happened. Pity because, thanks to you, I'm in a position where I can't do a thing."
Noticing one of them turning pale, he acted quickly.
"Hold it together! Hold it!" Vio shouted, grabbing the boy's head and twisting it toward the hole as he vomited.
"Bleugh! Bleugh!"
Once he was done, Vio let go.
"Why did you do that?"
"Finish your work," Vio replied coldly, stepping closer to the van.
The last thing he needed was someone leaving DNA evidence behind. He placed a hand on the van and glanced at the girl.
"I don't believe in justice," he muttered. "But I do believe in half of it. Is that good enough for you?"
For a moment, he looked at her as if expecting a response.
'Damn it. Everything because of her. Always teaching me useless things.'
He taught her to read people, while she taught him things he deemed pointless.
After half an hour, the hole was deep enough that the diggers needed help climbing out.
"How much longer do we have to dig?" one of them shouted.
Vio leaned over the edge.
"What are you idiots doing?" his voice rising with anger.
Confused, they climbed out to see what he was pointing at.
"What? I don't see anything."
"Me neither."
"What are you talking about?"
"You can't see it properly. Stand over there with the others," Vio ordered one of them who had been standing apart.
Once again, they peered into the empty hole, only to turn back toward Vio with puzzled expressions.
"I don't see…" Their words froze as they noticed the silenced gun aimed at them. and Before their minds could ask questions, their ears caught the answer.
"Bang."
One bullet pierced their skulls in succession, sending them all tumbling into the hole—except for one, whose body fell backward.
'Man, you're bent on leaving your DNA on the ground.'
With no other choice, Vio nudged the body into the hole, erasing any trace of blood from the ground before beginning to bury them.
When he finished, he removed his suit and shirt, revealing a lean but defined body marked by scars, each one holding a story.
He hoisted the girl's body onto his shoulder and lowered her into a separate grave he had dug himself.
"This is all I could do for you," he said, giving her one final look before covering her with soil.
Returning to the driver's seat, he made a call.
"It's done."
"Well done."
Vio drove to a car wash owned by someone he knew—quick service, no questions asked. Just the way he liked it.
Nearby, there was a mansion, its appearance giving off the impression of abandonment.
Vio pushed the door open, the creak of its hinges breaking the silence. Dust filled the space, but it didn't faze him. He walked toward a room draped in white sheets.
As soon as he pulled the sheets away, a cloud of dust rose into the air.
The scene wasn't revealed until the dust settled on the floor. Vio pulled out the plastic bag containing Sav's clothes and scanned the shelves with his eyes.
"This is its place," he murmured.
After labeling the bag with the necessary details—name, date, and a brief note of what had happened—he placed it in its alphabetical spot on the shelf.
The shelves held an all-detective's dream: strands of hair, clothes, and bloodied tools. They still bore witness to crimes.
As Sara had suspected, Vio really did keep some evidence. If this place were discovered, he would never see another sunrise.
No one could blame him; he was just a small cog in a vast machine—important, yet easily replaced. He was the black box for many of the powerful.
After conducting an inventory and ensuring nothing was missing, he left and returned to the apartment.
He opened the door quietly, greeted by dim light coming from the living room's television.
Sara was asleep on the couch, wearing his clothes. It was clear she had been waiting for him.
He sighed, retrieving a blanket from the room and draping it over her. Kneeling, he brushed strands of hair from her closed eyelids with his fingertips.
Lowering his head, he sighed deeply.
'what am I doing?'
As he silently berated himself, sensed something and looked up to see blue eyes open, staring at him.
For a moment, he froze.
"You owe me, remember that," she said before drifting back into deep sleep.
"I'll make it up to you. I promise," he whispered, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. A smile spread across her face.
He stood, feeling both mentally and physically drained from yet another exhausting day. Heading to the balcony, he leaned his arms on the railing and inhaled the crisp air.
Turning back, he saw her soundly asleep. Returning his gaze forward.
"Damn it."
It was his eternal struggle, and one regret.
Running a hand over his body, he pulled out a cigarette box only to find it empty.
"This can't be right. I swore I counted them this time."
Frustrated, he left the apartment. The driver, already waiting with the car, looked at him expectantly. Vio waved him off, signaling that he would walk. His destination was only two blocks away—no need to waste money or pollute the environment.
The whole way, he scolded himself for carelessness and lack of logic. He wasn't the type to forget something he deemed important.
Didn't consider himself an addict. He barely smoked one cigarette a day before bed. Of course, no addict admits to their addiction.
To avoid facing him, Vio always made sure to count each cigarette, but no matter what precautions he took, still found himself here—just like now.
"Look who's here," the old man greeted him with a sly grin.
"Let's skip the talk. Just give me one."
The man, a homeless figure sitting beside a box filled with cigarette packs, handed one over, chuckling in a strange way.
Vio snatched it, pulling one out and lighting it quickly, exhaling thick smoke through his mouth and nose.
Contrary to expectations, Vio didn't leave. just turned his back to the old man, entirely focused on his cigarette.
"Where's my money? Planning to run away?"
Not wanting to engage, Vio tossed some cash onto the plate in front of the old man.
"The price has gone up."
"What? When?"
"Now. Everything's more expensive. Don't be stingy."
"You're the last person who should talk about stinginess. You've got a fortune hidden away, yet still wear tattered clothes. Anyone who pities you doesn't realize they should pity themselves for giving you money."
"Tut, tut, tut. Did I teach you to envy others?"
"No, you didn't. You only taught me how to kill them."
Vio frowned, memories he wished to suppress resurfacing. His feelings toward the old man were complicated—he neither hated nor liked him. All he could do was curse himself.
"Was your day long?"
"Just another day of cleaning up trash. Nothing new."
"Then what's holding you back? Haven't you cleaned enough?"
"I'm thinking," Vio muttered, quickening his smoking pace as if he were a prisoner who wouldn't be freed until the cigarette was finished.
"Haven't you thought enough?"
"I said I'm thinking!" Vio raised his voice, unaware he was losing his composure.
"Mmhm," the old man nodded. "She is truly beautiful. For you to be affected by her means her personality is just as captivating as her looks."
Vio turned to him with a dark expression, while the old man wore a calm smile.
Vio lowered the hand holding the cigarette.
"Half of your former clients have risen in their ranks," the old man's eyes gleamed. "They no longer need your services."
"I've prepared myself."
"How?" A sarcastic smile appeared. "By putting the girl in your lap?"
Vio clenched his fist, crushing the remaining cigarette without saying a word.
"Alright, alright," the old man raised his arms in surrender. "Let's change the subject."
"Change whatever you want with yourself," Vio muttered as he began to leave, but the old man's voice stopped him.
"Wait a moment."
A deeper frown formed on Vio's face in confusion. If he decided to stop, it would have happened, but he didn't. Why did his body suddenly freeze?
"What if the fate of the world were in your hands? What would you do?"
'Ah, here we go again, he'll just repeat his nonsense.'
Momentarily forgot about his frozen body.
"You're doing it again"
"If you don't like it, let's change it." The old man stood, staring into Vio's eyes. "What if your girl were on one side, and the fate of the world on the other? Who would you choose?"
Although Vio didn't want to dive into these pointless hypotheticals, changed his mind when Sarah was mentioned.
"The world can go fuck itself."
"But isn't your girl part of the world? Fine, let's change it one last time."
'What's wrong with him today, and what's wrong with me? Why am I putting up with this nonsense?'
"Let's say the world is on one side, your girl on another, and you on the third. Who would you choose?"
Vio's frustration reached its peak. All he could think about now was ending this nonsense so could go home.
"I think you're senile, but let's humor you." relaxed his nerves. "Based on your logic, my girl and I are in the same world. Either way, we have no choice but to save the damn world."
"Hahaha," the old man laughter, the sound carrying a sense of foreboding, followed by warm applause.
'What's wrong with him…'
"There's no time left. The sword has fallen." With hands clasped behind his back, the old man spoke again.
As confusion clouded Vio's mind, a glowing orb appeared in the air.
'What is this?'
The sphere ascended, splitting into two, then three. Each new orb multiplied further, forming a shimmering cluster that began circling his body.
'hu…?'
Terror surged as one of the spheres entered his chest, quickly followed by the others. A brilliant glow consumed him, illuminating the surroundings like a beacon.
"What's happening…" Turning to question the old man, Vio discovered the spot vacant, as if no one had ever stood there.
The light intensified, heightening the panic. Eyes shut instinctively.
For a brief moment, there was nothing—no sensation, no sound. Then something unfamiliar began to seep into his awareness.
The light was gone when he opened his eyes, but what saw made them widen. As if that weren't enough, a voice began to echo in his mind.
[Congratulations on awakening, Hero.]