They stopped; breathing slow and composed. Brice was the first to turn around, pointing the gun at the brunet's head. Seto was quick to follow, poised with a knife in his left hand.

"So—after all this time, it was you all along," Seto muttered behind gritted teeth.

Brice sneered, "Fallen from your throne, have you not?"

Seto took a dash foreword; Brice shot his gun. The brunet barely managed to dodge as he leapt towards the left, making a quick sharp right turn towards the blond. He made an attempt to stab him in the shoulder, but was unsuccessful. He slid, stopping on the ground and looking up to see the gun pointed at his forehead.

"This was sad, after all this time I thought you'd put up a better fight." His finger was locked on the trigger. Seto plunged the knife deep into the other's wrist. Brice recoiled, screaming in agony as he dropped the gun. Seto picked it up, not hesitating to pull the trigger.

Clack. He reloaded the gun and watched the blond's body toppled onto the ground at his feet. Blood soiled his shoes, but seemed to have made them more shiny. Tainted with the enemy. He tossed the gun aside and took back his knife.

His hands were bloodied, but despite that he had reached into his pocket and took out his bingo book.

BRICE SOLACE PURTON
AGE 23
HITMAN

Putting his thumb in the blond's pool of blood, he stamped out the name, much like he did with his previous victims. 26 — Seto had killed 26 people in his bingo book. He flipped the page and examined his next victim.

ISAAC PSY
AGE 24
BUSINESS MAN

Perfect.

The brunet headed out of the warehouse, making sure not to clean up his mess. It wouldn't matter if he had got caught, he always escaped the repercussions. He took out his phone and decided to call Adam.

"Seto."

"Target was eliminated. I'm on my way to my next target; 24 more people and I finish the bingo book."

"Perfect. You shall get your pay at the end of this week."

The line went silent.

Seto couldn't remember a time where he would have a normal job—he'd been working for Adam since he was a child. Killing came easy, relations didn't matter. Yet, that Brice was a more difficult subject—their relations were close. Both being hitmen and using constant manipulation, it was easy to fall into each other's hands.

Seto felt a tear rolling down his cheek as he looked back at his bloodied thumb—tainted with that blond's blood.

"What a good fight," he muttered aloud while looking towards the sky.

Gray.

The clouds were gray.