An idea that came to me.
Read on and please, review
There he was, at the edge of the tallest building in Sina city. Standing with just one foot above the old gargoyle's head while the other supported his back weight from the cold distant wind that blows his ears, but throughout all these howls in the air, Armin kept his focus steady and his line of sight perfectly aligned with his target.
The other building, the one which he seeks, it had a good distance between them. But to Armin, it was just another job offer. A job offer that deals with the L115A3 sniper rifle he's holding on his right hand, and the set of magazines strapped to his belt.
His binoculars set to night vision, the sound of whirs and beeps from the electrical device could be heard. From his point of view, he got exactly where he wants his target at. Right there, on the green screen, was his client's supposedly disliked rival.
A man with the title of a conglomerate, but not to the outside world. To be specific, both Armin and he were connected in one simple thing: both lives in a hidden-in-plain-sight world where killings, murders, and tortures are common things that were enacted by those who pays for it. Not in dollars, or yens, or other types of money. They simply just use their own currency.
And now, tonight, Armin Arlert is here to repay the client's four hundred thousand's worth of currency by doing his job. That kind of money isn't cheap, he could pay his college funds, his lunches, his water bills, all kinds of sorts.
The catch was that if he fails to kill the target, which he won't, then that man will have the chance to set another mercenary at his doorstep. Both outcomes were simply… forgotten by Armin, to him, one man's death means an easy money while having several of his kind sent to skin him was surely tempting (he'll just fight them and kill them altogether, it was an adrenaline training that he's sort of got addicted to.) but cleaning up the mess is annoying.
Coming out of his nightly daydream, he readies himself to finally take the shot.
It seemed like the client and the target had a history considering how his client boasted about him being better, whatever it was he is sure that it had something to do with money, that's how everything does. But it's not his rights to care about that, as a merc, his one single responsibility was to only get the job done.
He bent down on one knee, from his belt he took out a standard 8.59 mm in the form of five round magazine.
His sniper, now pointed forwards with just the bipod supporting its front weight on the surface of the gargoyle's tip. The nose of the sniper, decorated with a silencer, sought out the target with Armin on the scope.
He adjusted his vision, his concentration sharpens, and he is not going to miss now. With the butt of the sniper adjusted well on his shoulder blade, he then moves his torso all the way up to his leg sideways to make sure that the force of the bullet does not break his bones.
At a night like these, he thanks the ever awake city to provide him some light. The stars shining above him, the skyline that colored the horizon with colors unknown to those who lived in the Stone Age, and the natural sound of automotive zooming past each other as the streets below were tainted with several colors of yellow and red.
Truly a magnificent night, this calming sensation will help him get the shot of a lifetime.
His magazine now sitting comfortably under the sniper rifle, with the bolt pulled back now it's loaded with lead, and his line of sight is just a few clicks more to the left of his target.
Four horizontal lines, three of them cuts through one that splits the middle in two. Furnished and helped with the red dot in each place where the lines meet, his accuracy is on point. The man is just casually looking out the distance with not even a single anxiety in him to know that his body is going to be in cremation soon, how gullible. The rows of glass panels in front of him were not the standard bulletproof type, an advantage.
34 yards… 42 yards… 53 yards…
"Boom." He pulls the trigger.
A mildly loud fwip! Sound the rifle makes as the silencer took out the extra noise, the force of the knockback made Armin flinch a bit… a bit.
He checked on his scope again to make sure that he got the target where he wants him, and surprise! He's lying on the floor of his office, bathe in his own brain juice. The moment his life fleeted away from his very body was the same moment that small hole on the glass panel appeared, he just needed to get away and let the 'clean-up guys' do their work.
There were no guards, nothing. They probably don't know that the one that hired them is already dead, it's going to be at least a few hours or so until one of them checked in to the room to make sure their boss is okay.
But Armin had no use to linger around for several moments longer, he nodded to himself thinking that his hard work has paid off.
He folded back the bipod in front of his rifle, he took out the magazine and put it back in its place on his belt, and lastly, he walked away from the gargoyle's head to retrieve his money.
He pulled out a phone from his pocket, a black colored smartphone with no casing. He gives in the password and looked for a contact, once he finds it he types in:
[The job is done, expecting my payment soon]
Typing… [I'll send the funds to your account…]
Armin blinked as another message popped out just above the screen saying… Received $400,000 to your bank account…
Armin smiled to himself before typing back… [Glad to be at your service…]
[Thank you.] The receiver typed… [Mr. Wick]
Armin whistled to himself at tune, walking down the stairs in this building is going to be a long, hard trip when you're carrying a sniper rifle.
.
This boy's college studies is, frankly, at his mercy.
A girl named Krista Lenz knew this, along with all the people that went to Trost State University. She watches him curiously, even sometimes she'd talk to him, but to her and no matter what she does, Armin Arlert is just an enigma ready to be solved in a millennia.
He is genuinely tall, taller than a few people in school including her. His hair is long and he once said that it used to be a bowl haircut, it sparks golden when it hits the sun and it still seemed to glow in dark times.
Born a genius, Armin Arlert had no problems at both high school and middle school. Everyone knew this even though they never saw it, because just by looking at him now there's no telling how smart he can be. There were even rumors that Armin could do algebraic calculations, even excel at it, at the time he's in kindergarten.
He's always a bit of a perfectionist, some may say. He always keeps his books stacked neatly, he always keeps his note book on a different pile, and even his bath products, cleaning products, and condiments were stored as if they're on a display at a museum.
And another was the way Armin dressed… nobody ever saw him in a hoodie or even some sort of casuals, he always wear clean shirts and pants and sometimes even suit vests. Some people dared even to sneak into his apartment and take a photo of him while sleeping, Krista could guess that even they had failed to do such task.
Needless to say, Krista was tempted to see what's under that girlish looks and that boyish smile. Because if being perfect was a mental disorder, then Armin's parents should've made a reservation in a mental ward.
"But under those blue, ocean eyes… under those soft, warming smile… he was just another man seeking for love in a world where compassionate and loving is a title, and consequences is a trophy. That is why he did not dare to make such a move, for he fears that his actions may outcome for the worst to the ones he loves the most…"
Krista raised his eyebrow at her friend, unsure the she had just heard all that. "What are you talking about?"
Ymir, a tomboyish girl with the face similar to that of a man with girlish features, looked at her with a playful grin. "Why, I'm just translating the things your head is saying, babe."
"W-what…?" Krista yelped, almost hitting her knees on the table.
"You've been staring at Arlert for over ten minutes now, are you sure you're not in love?" Ymir said lazily, seemingly already know what to say.
"N-no!" Krista flushed, her cheeks turning red. "I-I-I was just wandering if… if… if he liked wearing pajamas!"
Ymir made that same look she does when she's internally saying 'really, bro?' And needless to say that the girl noticed the other girl's lie.
Krista bit her bottom lip. "I-I-I was thinking if… if he'd like to go out sometimes…"
Krista internally smacked herself in the cheek, knowing that Ymir would laugh at that. But her queasy feeling disappeared the instant Ymir made a sympathetic smile, and who wouldn't like to be approved of her love by a person who is the living reason why she has no boyfriends yet.
"A-are you sure, Ymir?" Krista squeaked, she knew Ymir was that protective type.
Ymir scoffed. "If it's just a kid like Armin, then I can beat his ass any day. Besides, no man had ever made you beat your eyelids like that."
Good, Krista thought. She looked back at Armin again, who seemed to notice her and waved. Krista waved back with a genuine smile, before sadly watching him leave the room to go back home.
An enigma indeed.
.
"Master Wick, it seemed like you've outgrown your suit."
"Have I?" Armin said, looking down towards his black suit. Indeed, he seemed to have outgrown it as he could see and feel himself a bit immobile.
The man circled him with a measuring line tied to his sleeve, a finger tapping on his chin. "How long have you lived with this one, if I may ask?"
"Two years, four months, and eleven days." Armin instantly said, looking himself in the mirror.
"Then, may I suggest our new addition to the collection?"
Armin's face lit up. "Yes, please, Marco."
The man gave a smile before going into one of the wardrobes, with just one pull of a hand, rows of black colored suits came to line up for his choosing. Marco always seemed to know what Armin's taste is, he finds things like this good quality.
"Do you have something… protective?" Armin said, going through several clothes.
Marco lifts his eyebrow at that. "Another ground job, sir?"
"Yes…" Armin sadly said.
"Then, may I suggest you take the main course?"
"What do you have in mind?"
Marco seemed to give off something that's similar to that of a psychopath, Armin knows that he's interested in that kind of things. "Pellets…"
Now, Armin is interested.
So, how about that? I'm putting this up for adoption. Older!Armin, Arukuri/ArminxKrista
Let me know in the comments
give that review button some spanking!