From a dagger, a once proud and piercing blue gaze stares back, now dull and jaded. The usual youthful curiosity and vibrance of a teenager long lost; only hollow eyes and dark rings can be found.

Tearing his eyes away from his sorry state, the boy creeps forward, careful not to make the old mahogany floorboards creak. Arriving at a bed, the child grabs a spare pillow and smothers the slumbering old man's face while plunging his dagger into his jugular.

The old man tries to scream, he tries to shout, but only a pathetic whimper followed by a slow gurgling can be heard. Yet, in a final, fleeting, act of defiance, the old man wrestles away the pillow that covers his face. His steely gray eyes first show shock and then grim defiance.

You can tell a lot about a person from their eyes, especially just before one dies. Most people stare back at you in fear, their bodies stiff and face coated in tears. Some, like the man soon to die, stare back at you in anger and resentment, determined to live, to kill, or at least to try. Fewer still look back in calm resignation, knowing they can do nothing to change their fate. Knowing they should cherish their last moments before it's too late. Even fewer have eyes like mine… to have them, it is truly a crime.

Shaking his head to clear these morbid thoughts, the boy closes the man's eyes and whispers a quiet prayer.

♫"I give myself to the Lord of Water."

"Please forgive me for my sin of slaughter."

"I will gladly pay your toll,"

"So please be a shepherd for this man's poor soul."♫

'After all that's happened, I don't know if I still believe in our Lord, or even if he's still alive, but praying helps me cope, to feel human once more.'

Lying there, illuminated by the moon, Mr. Miller's white beard and hair juxtapose the now crimson sheets, making him look strangely ethereal, at peace...

'May he meet a better ending in his next life.'

With a muffled sigh, the boy's eyes once again glaze over. Returning to his usual professionalism, he erases his presence, stows his knife, and climbs out the window from which he entered.

Dipping between the dank and dark alleyways of Solbrook, the boy stops and stares upwards.

'At least the moon is beautiful tonight.'

Under the moon's luminance, the boy reaches into his inner jacket and pulls out a sticky black orb. If anyone were nearby, they would surely gag from its foul stench, but surprisingly, the child casually puts it into his mouth and swallows it with a grimace. The smell of rotting flesh and tar immediately dissipates; the only testament to the sphere's existence is a small black tear that's quickly wiped away.

With a slight tremor and feeble steps, the boy continues his journey until he arrives at the back of an unassuming noodle shop.

"Thump … Thump Thump … Thump … Thump Thump Thump"

The door's aged but sturdy sliding panel opens for a second before it closes, and a short, middle-aged, red-haired man opens the door with a beaming smile.

Gesturing with his hand, the slightly balding man beckons the boy inside. "Come in, come in, it's good to see you. How are ya?"

"Still alive and kicking, Sam."

A low and jolly laugh escapes the portly man's lips. "It's just us here, Mer; no need to use our cover names. Come, take a seat and tell me about your most recent escapade."

"Ha, I'd hardly describe it as an escapade Theo, but sure."

'Theo's always been like this, laid-back and too kind for his own good, which is rare in this line of work... the opposite of me. After meeting 'master,' I lost what little trust in society I had left; caution keeps death at bay after all.'

While the boy updates Theo on his mission, the odd pair sit down and drink some green tea.

"You did well, Mer."

The redhead grabs a small pouch and tosses it toward the hooded boy.

"Treat your sister to a nice meal, will ya lad. Oh, and take this"

With a slightly nervous, maybe even guilty look, Theo pulls out a sealed envelope from his overcoat and passes it along the table.

Mer quickly stuffs the letter into his jacket and gets up to leave.

"Thank you, Theo. I better get going, then. Look after yourself."

"You too, and, uhh, watch out… I think HE might suspect something."

Upon hearing this, the hooded figure briefly pauses, before leaving.

Sighing, Mer continues his walk through the slums.

'Theo's one of the few people I trust in the hellhole; the last thing I want is for him to get wrapped up in my mess.'

Approaching a small, dilapidated bamboo hut, Mer stops, pulls down his hood, stuffs his tools deep within his bag, and tries to tidy up.

He then knocks on a crooked door and waits with a grin.

Like always, Mer's sister opens the door and greets him with a gentle smile. The smell of roasting vegetables and dampness permeates the air. For a brief moment, the boy stands there and looks into the girl's eyes, for behind their bubbly blue exterior lies a well of sorrow.

'I am all she has left, and she is all I have to live for.'

The girl is the first to speak.

"Good to have you home, brother. I've made some potato and leek soup inside. Eat up; you look like dead fish."

'Although I haven't told Ema the specifics of my work,' she's always been perceptive and knows something is up. Fortunately, she trusts me and knows I will tell her about it if necessary; however, I at least want to protect her from this.'

Mer ruffles his sister's hair in mock hurt, causing her to pout.

"You wound me so. I look as handsome as ever, but thank you for the meal, sis. I don't know what I would do without you… probably forget to eat knowing myself, haha."

"Hey, don't mess up my hair, Mer… Ahh, whatever, I'm going back to bed after eating anyway, so I guess it doesn't matter. How was work?"

"You know, the same old boring stuff, helping Sam out with the shop. Some fool got too drunk and started a fight with another customer. Fortunately, neither were cultivators, so no real damage was done."

'Spinning the yarn has become a habit of mine now. Lying to my sister, the grocer, and just about everyone under the sun. It's for our safety as well as my sanity. The day I completely break, would be when Ema wakes up and sees me for the monster I truly am.'

Ema shoots Mer a quizzical look, but says nothing more. "So, when is your next day off, brother?"

"If it were up to the boss, when I am in the grave, but Sam's managed to butter him up enough to get me a day off next week, so we can go around the city together. Your oh-so-generous brother will even treat you to lunch."

The conversation goes back and forth for another thirty minutes as Ema recounts the local gossip and talks about her day working at Mrs. Smith's restaurant.

"Hmm, it's getting late now, brother; you should get to bed before the sun rises so you aren't too tired tomorrow."

"Ahh, as always, you are right missy. Goodnight, and sweet dreams."

Although Mer knows they probably won't be...

For either of them.