Wherefor art thou? (Killugon)

More then I can handle.

Turning on his heel to leave and tucking the documents under his arm, the man walks off, leaving the horror behind, to be discovered by whoever lives in that house or a bystander. He doesn't run, or walk fast. Who the fuck's gonna stop him? Nobody could, even if they tried. The lightless street's dreary loneliness became more prominent as he walked, his mind free to wander. As hard as he tried to keep the finished target off his mind, he couldn't. Why were they down some outskirts town? Hopefully the secretary didn't live there. I can't imagine her family walking out and seeing that. But as if I'm going to waste my time moving the body, or cleaning the crime scene. Not my job, not my problem. Right now, the man felt dazed, heavy chested and a tinge of regret. But give it a week, when he's moved on to the next mission, he'll forget this remorse and the secretary and her driver will just become another faceless number. A statistic. His feet dragged with boredom, mimicking his drowsy groaning as he moved along the pavement. The journey to the employer's HQ is out of the way and inconvenient. Honestly I know it's smart of them to stay away from the murder, that's why they hired me in the first place. So they don't have to get their hands dirty. But couldn't they arrange a halfway point to meet? It'd almost be one thing if they were all the way in the middle of Yorknew, but there on the outskirts, on the other fucking side of the city! Yeah, I can get there in seven minutes. But that doesn't mean I want to. Shit.

The bright moon's shadows draping from the buildings allowed the man's quick voyage to 'Mr.Boss-Man' to be easy and undetected. As he pounces from shadow to shadow, police and ambulance sirens cry into the night from the heart of the city. They passed him, unaware. The electronic wail was hushed slightly by the distance. The sirens overlap, causing one large wall of sound that sped down the street. Two ambulances, six police cars. Although the sound was intimidating, the killer could decipher the pandemonium flawlessly. With the loud flurry of vehicles thickening the air as they came, the tension then diminished with the passing of the fleet. Where they were heading is obvious, he's permanently altered the course of history again. Supposedly that's the good thing about political assassinations, you get to feel like god, controlling the narrative. Power in another fashion.

The front door is almost always unlocked. It barely stands by the hinges, silently and ominous. It doesn't need to be locked, what it represents is enough secretary. Dark wood rotten and stained. Taking one sharp breath the man, refreshed with the recent kill, knocked. Hard and powerful enough to portray his fearlessness, but soft enough to allow the door to remain upright. Tapping his foot on the pavement in waiting, a cold moment passed. Before long a scrawny goon opened the door, if only by a little sliver, checking out the disturbance on the small concrete patio. The man waiting looked at him, irksomeness raising an eyebrow. Quickly, the goon fully opened the door, stepping aside to give room for him to walk in. He passed the goon silently, lowered eyes looking straight ahead. Carelessly walking down the decaying hallway, he stopped at a door. Only stopping long enough to place his hand on the doorknob, he stepped in, unhesitatingly. The quiet commotion stopped at his entrance, all eyes turning to the man. They sneered for a second, cautions in the presence of a stranger. Everyone in the room knew who he was. He was a stranger in the sense of who's he an ally or enemy to. Then a large chuckle came from a man, sitting alone at a kotatsu.

"Mr. Zoldyck, at last! Come-come, sit!" He smiled at the man, gesturing him to the kotatsu. The others quickly turned away, suspicion turned to welcoming eyes, in order to not appear rude to the welcomed guest.

"Please Mr. Togashi, call me Killua." The assassin laughed kindly as he sat across from him, crossing his legs under the warm blanket. The heat melted onto the lower half of his body, a welcome contrast to the crisp air outside. He placed the documents on the table, face up and slid them over to Mr. Togashi. Pride and self satisfaction shone in Killua's smile.