Sydney led the way down the long, carpeted executive corridor, her boots clicking sharply against the polished wood until we stopped before a set of grand, heavy mahogany doors. She knocked twice before pushing them open, leading me straight into the spacious, suffocatingly quiet office of the Bureau Chief.
As expected, Anton Kif was already there, seated behind his massive desk. He was casually sipping a cup of hot tea, surrounded by stacks of casualty reports and trade logs. The moment the doors opened, he looked up, his sharp, calculating eyes mapping my silhouette.
With my face fully exposed, showing the brutal, jagged ridges of my Glasgow smile and the empty socket of my left eye, Anton immediately recognized me. But his gaze lingered on my skin for a split second. A faint, amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Nice tan you got there, Eirene, you look like you've been baking under a different sun. What can I do for you today?" Anton noted, setting his teacup down with a soft click.
Before I could reach for my charcoal and paper, Sydney stepped forward to assist me, placing the bound canvas bundle firmly onto his immaculate desk.
"Chief, Eirene is here to submit a major claim. She is asserting that she has successfully terminated a high-profile target from the Registry of the Condemned."
Anton raised an eyebrow, leaning forward as Sydney untied the knots and peeled back the canvas layers. The moment the matted purple hair and the frozen, lifeless face of Oksana were revealed under his office chandeliers, Anton choked.
Pfft!
He violently spat his tea back into his cup, coughing as his professional composure completely shattered. He stared at the severed head, his face turning a furious, shocked shade of red.
"Oksana?! The head of the entire Sisiphon Alchemist Guild?! It's been less than a week since the contract was updated! You slaughtered the leader of the continent's largest drug syndicate in less than four days?!"
He slammed his fist on the desk, his eyes narrowing into a harsh, critical glare as he looked at me.
"But killing her doesn't fix the core issue, Eirene! What about the cargo? What about the millions of gold coins worth of lotus dust scheduled to breach our borders? Did you secure it?!"
I met his glare with a cold, unblinking stare from my lone right eye. I didn't offer a single shred of remorse. I hadn't gone to Sisiphon to be a hero or a border guard; I went there as an executioner. I had intentionally let the Archivist and the brute forces of the Eastern District Clan do the messy work of burning the wagons and slaughtering the cartel. The destruction of the drug supply was their victory… my only priority was the price on Oksana's head.
Sensing my absolute silence, Anton let out a long, weary groan, realizing he wouldn't get a verbal answer out of the Crimson Phantom. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a rare, glowing blue mana stone used specifically for high-tier identity verification.
He held the stone over Oksana's pale, severed forehead. The artifact hummed to life, casting a bright, scanning grid of arcane light across her features. For a few agonizing seconds, the runes inside the stone swirled violently, analyzing the latent core resonance and soul remnants left in the flesh.
Finally, the stone flashed a brilliant, undeniable crimson… the universal signal of a perfect match.
The magical data didn't lie. Despite the dyed purple hair and the missing limbs of her corpse, the underlying magical signature was absolute. It was exactly Oksana. The Drug Lord was dead, the verification was complete, and Anton was left staring at the undeniable proof of my lethal efficiency.
Anton and Sydney stared at the glowing crimson mana stone, the silence in the office so heavy you could hear the faint crackle of the fireplace in the corner. The sheer disbelief on their faces was palpable. For years, the authorities had hunted this woman, yet I had crossed the border, dismantled her inner circle, and brought back her head in a matter of days.
"Unbelievable, an absolute masterclass in assassination. Do you have any idea what a thorn in the side this woman was to the Sisiphon government, Eirene?"
Anton muttered, rubbing his temples as he sank back into his heavy leather chair. He gestured vaguely out the window toward the southern passes.
"Oksana had failed numerous attempts to smuggle her hyper-refined lotus dust into Caria City in the past. The border mages always flagged her. But this time... this time she was clever. She knew the Bureau, the Luminous Knights, and the military were entirely consumed with dealing with the sudden surge of the Immoral Knights in the mountains. She planned this exact window of chaos to push her massive caravan through."
Anton leaned forward, his eyes boring into mine.
"And yet, you managed to completely halt a multi-million gold coin operation by yourself. The reports from the border say the entire convoy was burned to ash. How did you pull it off? How did a single hunter navigate an S-rank cartel security detail and orchestrate a total collapse?"
I didn't move a muscle. I stood perfectly still, maintaining my absolute, icy silence.
As he questioned me, I felt the reassuring, heavy weight pressed against the fabric of my back. Beneath the layers of my merchant cloak, the Death Chant Shotgun was still securely strapped to my frame. The bindings had held perfectly, it hadn't shifted or flown off even when I was violently flapping my blood wings through the high-altitude mountain gales. Oksana had given me this legendary weapon to protect her empire, completely unaware it would become the ultimate trophy of her demise.
Instead of writing an explanation, I reached up with my right hand, grabbed the edges of my heavy traveler's hood, and pulled it back down over my face. The deep shadow swallowed my scarred features, my jagged Glasgow smile, and my lone blinking eye, leaving only darkness beneath the canvas brim.
Anton watched the movement and let out a breathless, dry chuckle. He understood the gesture perfectly. The Crimson Phantom doesn't share her methods. She doesn't leave paper trails, she doesn't do debriefs, and she certainly doesn't gossip with the Bureau. She simply collects her dues.
"Right. Keep your secrets, the results speak louder than words anyway."
He reached into his secure desk drawer, pulled out a small, velvet-lined iron lockbox, and unlocked it with a heavy brass key. From inside, he carefully withdrew a set of large, glittering coins and lined them up on the mahogany wood between us.
Four heavy, pristine gold coins.
I stared at them, my lone eye sharpening beneath my hood. It was an absolute fortune. In the currency of the realm, a single gold piece was a staggering amount of wealth, making this total equivalent to a massive 400 silver coins. It was enough to fund a luxurious lifestyle for months, buy high-tier magical catalysts, or completely fortify the Rynd household where my sister… well, where my civilian persona's home was located.
I reached out with my right hand, swept the four heavy gold coins off the desk in one fluid motion, and dropped them into the leather purse at my hip, where they clinked with a satisfying, heavy weight. The contract was officially sealed, the ledger was cleared, and the Drug Lord's reign was nothing but a memory fading into the desert sands.
Four gold coins was a fortune to an ordinary citizen, but as I let the heavy weight settle in my leather purse, a cold, calculating frustration rippled through my core. It wasn't enough. Not even close.
High-tier, specialized hunter equipment in the capital cost an absolute premium. The advanced, fire-resistant tactical trench coat and the high-grade enchanted mask I had my eye on to better conceal my identity were priced at a staggering 10 gold coins minimum. If I wanted to survive the increasingly brutal contracts dropping into the lower districts and properly armor my broken body, I couldn't stop here. I needed to hunt down more high-profile, high-bounty targets like Oksana. I needed to turn the underworld into my personal vault.
Anton leaned back, watching me pocket the coins, his expression softening into something resembling paternal pride.
"You've done more than enough for this territory, Eirene, your older brother, Elias, always speaks of your potential, though he still fiercely views you as his innocent, vulnerable little sister. But seeing you dismantle an entire drug empire completely by yourself... frankly, the Council might just brand you as a national hero once this gets out."
He said smoothly, resting his hands on his desk. The moment the words left his mouth, a violent, icy wave of panic and absolute realization crashed over my mind.
A hero? Public recognition? Brother?
If any of my siblings… especially Elias… discovered what I truly was, the fragile reality we built would shatter completely. If they found out that their innocent little sister who was supposed to be safely managing the family meat shop in Town Allure was actually a merciless, blood-slicked phantom who infiltrated cartels and decapitated drug lords for coin, they would lose their minds. Elias would burn the Bureau to the ground, and the protective, sheltering lie keeping our family sane would be permanently ruined.
SLAM!!!
Driven by pure, desperate instinct, I brought my lone right hand down onto Anton's mahogany desk with a deafening, concussive force that rattled his teacup and left a faint hairline fracture in the polished wood. I leaned over the table, my deep traveler's hood flaring open just enough for him to catch the absolute, terrifying malice burning in my lone right eye. I gestured violently toward my covered face, a sharp, ragged hiss tearing from my ruined mouth… a wordless, commanding demand to lock the files, bury the reports, and completely erase my involvement from the public eye.
Anton flinched, his face turning slightly pale as he raised his hands in a placating gesture. He understood the desperate, frantic terror hidden beneath my aggression instantly. He knew how far I was willing to go to protect my illusion of safety from my siblings.
"Alright! Alright, calm down, Eirene. I get it, I will ensure your civilian profile is completely detached from this kill. From now on, your identity is strictly classified within the executive branch."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"However, the bounty records themselves must remain visible to the Bureau's tracking systems. The public will know that a hunter terminated Oksana, it's going to be printed across the front pages of the newspapers by tomorrow morning. But I will mask the details. Your siblings will never find out it was you. I know how desperately you want to protect them from this world."
He fell silent, giving me his solemn word, a mutual trust forming between the Bureau Chief and the Phantom.
I slowly pulled my hand back, my breathing ragged as I smoothed down my traveler's cloak, ensuring the Death Chant Shotgun remained perfectly hidden against my spine.
I turned on my heel, ready to slip out of the office and melt back into the shadowed corridors before anyone else could look at my desert-tanned skin. But just as my hand brushed the brass handle of the office door, the lock clicked from the outside.
The heavy mahogany doors swung open.
My heart completely stopped. Time seemed to freeze as three figures stepped into the executive office, brushing the fresh mountain snow off their shoulders.
Leading the group was a man wearing a dark, heavy trench coat over an elite Luminous Knight uniform, his posture radiating an aura of absolute, suffocating shadow magic. Flanking him were two familiar girls… one clad in the pristine, reinforced armor of a high-tier Paladin, the other wrapped in the distinctive, ornate robes of a specialized Mage.
I knew them instantly. My mind screamed in absolute, silent panic. The girls were Patricia and Catherine. And the man leading them was Elias Rynd. My older brother.
The sheer irony of the universe slammed into me like a physical blow. The very brother I was desperately trying to hide from was standing less than five feet away. I instinctively pulled my deep hood down to the absolute bridge of my nose, pinning my empty left sleeve tight against my torso and turning my body slightly away into the shadows of the doorframe, praying my new desert tan and ragged merchant clothes would completely mask my silhouette.
Elias, entirely consumed by the gravity of his own mission, didn't even cast a passing glance toward the heavily cloaked, single-armed hunter standing by the exit. He strode past me with cold, military precision, his boots clicking sharply against the carpet as he approached Anton's desk. Elias said, his deep, raspy voice echoing through the quiet office with chilling finality.
"Chief Anton, we've just returned. I have something critical to report to you... about an entity we encountered in the Caria mountains."