{Palermo, Sicily, Italy}

Passing a hand through his white locks to ruffle them, he didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

A few minutes before, his brother, Ran-chan, otherwise known as "Boss" on his contact list, had called him.

From what Koro understood, his name was Yucca. Part of him wanted to deny the truth, after all, what were the odds of him being the Yucca those people were looking for this morning?

Nope, it was no use, Yucca, wasn't a common name, for a person at least, had he been a flower, things would have been different. But now, he had to be a fool not to see the truth. Had he not been tight on money, Koro would have probably ordered a few bottles of Marsala. Paying his bill, he made his way out of the shop.

If he was right, Yucca and his brother were very dependent on each other. Although they didn't meet often, they called regularly and as the older brother, Yucca usually, sent money to him on his birthday or other special occasions through their respective bank account.

Well, guess he'll have to add hacking into his, own bank account to his to-do list.

On a side note, his "brother" seemed autonomous enough for Koro not to worry about his well being. Nonetheless, as the person who somehow ended in this body, he would take great care of him.

Can't have the body's original owner haunting me for disregarding Ran-chan.

For now, Yucca, yes Koro had decided to adopt the name, the more familiar he was with it, the better, had two missions.

Firstly, change his appearance, he didn't know who was after him, or if anyone was after him for all it mattered, but, altering his look wouldn't hurt. For instance, his hair color, white was a bit to easy to spot in the crowd, and although he didn't mind it, on the contrary, he liked it, he was sure whoever wanted to look for him, looked first and foremost for a guy with white hair.

Therefore, his first destination would be the hair salon. Fortunately, Palermo was a touristic city, he should find, every type of shop easily. And he did, no longer than five minutes after getting out of the coffee shop, he stumbled upon a small hair salon named Fesian.

Entering, a hairdresser greeted and guided him to a chair near the washing sinks. His goal was to get a new haircut, no shit Sherlock, to begin with, he would ask for a coloration, most probably black, nothing could go wrong with black. Then he would ask the hairdresser to shorten his hair's length. At the moment, they reached a little below his shoulder, not very practical.

Calculating how much money he would have left once he paid the hairdresser, Yucca, let himself relax, he would continue planning later.

::

Getting out of the hair salon, Yucca could feel the wind blowing behind his neck. His first mission out of the way, he started to think about the second one: finding a job, at least a way to earn money.

Although 5 000€ wasn't negligible, he had already spent a little bit less than 100€ in the morning. His cash reserve wouldn't be eternal, and he didn't know how much he had on his bank accounts, yet.

Let's see, with his qualifications as Koro-sensei, or as the God of Death in his past life, he shouldn't have any problem completing any jobs.

But the condition of this body's qualifications remained. He couldn't possibly take a job as a surgeon without the necessary diploma, worst-case scenario, he'd forge, himself some.

Think, his I.D, he should check it.

Grabbing his wallet, he rummaged through it for a few seconds before finding a small opening, stretching it, he broke off few threads before finally revealing dozens of cards. Among them were his I.D. card, a few calling and fidelity cards, and another plastic card, probably the key to his hotel room, a hotel room? Change of plan, next destination his hotel room.

::

Why was his hotel so far? He didn't know, but after 56 minutes of walking, at 01.07pm, he reached his hotel.

Taking in the architecture, he entered the building and went straight for the stairs. Climbing them, he soon reached the second floor where, judging from the room number written on his card, was his room.

"204, 204..." he muttered, looking for his room.

Finding it, he inserted the magnetic key into the lock before going in. The room was clean and organized, the cleaning lady had probably, done it not long ago.

Taking off his black trench-coat, he first went to his suitcase, in it were three pants, ten dress-shirts, two t-shirts, some underwears, a computer, and chargers. His toilet bag should be in the bathroom, another pair of shoes rested in the entrance, and he had seen a simple jacket when he hanged his trench.

The original owner must have planned on staying for a while he thought.

Taking out his laptop, he linked it to his phone. As a code locked it his only way of unlocking it would be through hacking it with his cellphone.

Luckily, the phone's lock based itself on the owner's fingerprint, he, therefore, had no trouble unlocking it.

Starting, the hacking sequence, his fingers hovered above the digital keyboard.

He wasn't as fast as Ritsu, his old A.I. student when it came to hacking, nor was he as fast as his past-self, Koro-sensei, but his skills were still top-notch.

In a matter of minutes, he broke all of the firewalls and unlocked his laptop, successfully changing the password at the same time.

Nonetheless, he couldn't help but find its security system light and before continuing decided to install a few firewalls to (try) prevent it from being hacked.

Looking into his documents, he concluded that his ex-young body owner (who was only 19) was involved in some shady businesses.

As an early graduate, original-Yucca had stopped all of his studies at age 16 and had decided to take a job as soon as possible, involving himself in the underground world where he, apparently had some ties.

From what Koro understood before Yucca became an adult and took care of his and his brother's financial situation, their uncle raised them. It was him, who introduced young Yucca to the underground, the rest was history.

Koro sighed and rubbed his temple, going through all these documents was more tiring than he thought and it took longer than expected.

It was 05.43pm, he, hadn't eaten anything except the small cookies which went with his espressos, he was hungry, thirsty, and he still had tons of things to do.

From understanding his position in the underworld to hacking his, own credit cards to be able to use them and polishing his next move, he was sure it would take longer than a few hours, probably the whole night.

Great way to start a new life he thought dryly.

::

{???, Italy}

Five months later.

A man stood alone in a dark basement, the weak light flickered, casting a shadow over his lowered face.

At his feet, laid four bodies, either stabbed or shot, in a small pool of blood. Taking, a deep breath, the raven head closed his eyes and passed his left gloved hand through his black locks, his other hand holding his handgun loosely.

From the information, he had gotten before engaging in the mission, his target's hideout shouldn't have more than four people, mastermind, and guards included.

Guess I am done for the day.

-

Hiding in the one of the pillar's shadow, a discreet man observed, waiting for his target to let his guard down.

The man who wasn't older than 30, was an old friend of one of the dead bodies laying on the cold stone floor. Contrary to his friend, he wasn't build up and didn't have much stamina for someone in this line of work.

His only assets were his marksmanship skills. He wasn't the greatest shooter, but he was still one of the best, as a matter of fact, he had a few "regulars" who asked for his "services" often.

Nonetheless, his friend had called him earlier in the day to ask for a favor he owed him. Something about needing some backups in case his plan failed, better safe than sorry as they said.

As a man who kept his words, he, of course, agreed and went straight for his old friend's hideout.

Upon arriving, he didn't expect, after absenting himself for only a few minutes to take a piss, to be greeted by the familiar metallic smell of blood. He remembers, as his pace grew quicker hearing the sound of a gunshot, the man had shot twice, each bullet hitting its target as he didn't hear them ricochet.

Steadying his breath, he had made his footstep lighter, swifter not to be heard by the intruder, worst case scenario the traitor.

And now, here he was, hiding in the shadow waiting for his prey to let its guard down. He only had one chance, judging from the other's performance and physical condition after taking down four of his temporary comrades, the man wouldn't even bat an eyelash before taking him down if they were to confront each other.

Inhaling and exhaling silently, he waited, now he thought, seeing, the male's shoulder slightly relax as he cracked his neck.

Getting out of the shadow, he brandished his gun, aiming it, he didn't wait for another second before pulling the trigger. He didn't have to worry about, his aim being a bit off, after all, he believed in his skills.

The raven-haired male didn't have time to aim his, own pistol, he was, already laying on the cold floor.

-

Or not, he thought, sighing. Guess some of the pests escaped his watchful eyes, he, really lost his touch.

Discreetly gripping his gun tighter, he swiftly glanced to his left, his bangs covered his eyes, making the gesture go unnoticed. Feigning a yawn, he cracked his neck, naturally turning his body in the "uninvited guest"'s direction, as if he was only making his way deeper into his ex-targets' lair.

Although his whole focus was on the pillar, the rat hid behind, he didn't show it and stared at the ceiling, as if lost in thoughts. Only waiting for his last prey to make its appearance.

The shadow moved slightly, making a small wicked smile grow on his face, found you.

A man, older than him by at least ten years brandished a handgun. His posture showed years of experience, but his swimming pupils only reflected fear. Shooting, the man didn't expect the younger male to dodge and take out his, own gun firing back twice.

The experienced man was petrified, his fear, had amplified after missing his shot. Making him unable to react in time. Barely dodging the first bullet, he didn't notice the second incoming attack and got hit in the right arm. Making him loosen his grip and drop his weapon.

Felling the horrendous pain of a gun wound, he hissed, taking his eyes off his opponent, he didn't see the raven head lunge at him. With a short dagger in hand, approximately the size of his palm, the younger male stabbed him.

Taking his blade out of his victim's chest, the raven head, Yucca, gently wiped the blood off with a small white handkerchief.

"Tch, filthy..." he muttered glancing at the blood and bodies sprayed inside the room. Making his way out of it, he didn't bother hiding the bodies.

This group had angered, a few numbers of people already, their death wouldn't surprise anybody, only give him more exposure which he needed to make himself known and respected.

Inspiring fear to others would multiply his chance of living, small fries, wouldn't dare approach him, he would only have to worry about some big shots and even then if he didn't offend them most would leave him alone.

In the world, he lived in, only the strong survived. The strong eat the weak, he couldn't allow others to think of him as vulnerable (infiltration missions were another story).

Tucking his short dagger back in his trench's left cuff, his eyes, slowly traveled the scene in front of him.

Before transmigrating to this body, Koro didn't care about the filth a room may contain, it, wasn't particularly disagreeable nor was it pleasant, he simply didn't bother with it.

But after taking control of the original's body, some mannerism were "transferred" to him, his aversion to dirty places being one of them.

Fortunately, it wasn't at the level of mysophobia, he, only felt distaste when faced with it. Thus, Yucca couldn't stop his eyes from narrowing slightly and his nose from scrunching in disgust as he overviewed the basement's situation.

::

It had now been a year since Koro died and since he took over Yuuca's body. His position as a freelance assassin/informant had been established for three months now, and he didn't have to worry about his income anymore.

The problem of his cover was also solved a month after he had been recognized by the underworld. He was a "student," and took distance courses to become a journalist or novelist which justified his many travels.

Whistling, Yucca casually went through the city's dark alley, hands' stuffed in his black trench's pocket, he made his way to his and his client's meeting point, a small abandoned apartment.

Something about the information being too confidential to evoke in unsupervised areas.

Welp, the request came from one of his most important and influential clients, he couldn't deny them just because it seemed dubious.

After all, what were his chances when faced with the infamous Vongola syndicate?

Sorry, in the end, none of the Canon characters appeared in this chapter. But I promise they'll be there in chapter 3!

Thanks for reading the second chapter of "CLOUDY," until next time.