Domino 1: Professional
Torchwick was a professional, and he only hired professionals. The three men behind him were all trained Hunters, albeit Hunters down on their luck. No-nonsense, capable of independent action, but still willing to follow orders as long as a good paycheck was in their future. Torchwick may have made them wear matching sunglasses in the middle of the night, but he at least made it seem like there was a good reason for it. Not that there wasn't a good reason. But not everyone understands how important looking badass is.
He wasn't wearing sunglasses though. No, that was for the mooks. He would never call them that of course, but it was understood. Torchwick was instead wearing a fully tailored outfit; white jacket with deep red inner lining and snazzy yellow and black buttons(the truth was, he couldn't decide which buttons to use, so he chose them at random). A thin gray scarf was wrapped around his neck, allowing his appearance to be a bit less orderly without sacrificing any classiness. His black slacks had been recently destroyed in a most frustratingly comical situation involving a faunus and a loose thread, but the brown pants he was forced to wear instead didn't totally detract from the look he desired. Black gloves, a cane, and a bowler hat finished off the outfit, the hat in particular framing his luxurious flowing red hair, resulting in an outfit that practically shouted "I am unique, individual, and you will love me regardless of my horrible crimes or your opinions on the matter of criminals". Perfect.
Now that fashion was accounted for, he could finish the secondary goal – the inexpensive acquisition of large quantities of magical Dust. He had made several such profitable exchanges so far today, but it was getting late, so finding a dust shop that was open could be a bit of a chore. Luckily, Ye Old Man Guild made it a point to require that member shopkeepers kept their stores open at all hours, and Torchwick knew of at least one Dust shop under said guild's control.
The small group arrived at the shop, and Torchwick rolled his eyes at the pun on the sign as he walked in. The old man behind the counter smiled at him, unaware of the calamity he was about to face. One of the moo-hired professionals quietly revealed his gun to the shopkeeper, gently resting his hand on the grip and stealing away the man's smile as easily as the rest of the robbery should… would go.
That was about when Torchwick noticed the girl turned away from them and reading a magazine in the back of the shop. A red cloak obscured most of her form, but a large bundle – clearly a folded-up weapon – was strapped to her back. A huntress, or a huntress in training. Only an absolute moron would ignore such a thing. One of his employees looked at the girl, and then back at Torchwick with a questioning expression, and Torchwick frowned. They would have to do this quietly. Child or no, Hunters were wild cards, and he had plans for tonight. He was about to signal a stealthy continuation of the plan when he paused. That was the safe option, sure. But this could figure into his plans. He looked at his man with a thoughtful expression, then turned to the shopkeeper. "I don't want any problems here, and if you see any, I want you to quietly put them out of their misery before I have to deal with them." He ignored the shopkeeper's insistence that there would be no problems, noting instead the movement out of the corner of his eye that showed that his message had been sent. Disposing of the body would be a pain, but not as painful as dealing with an unknown huntress. Raising a finger, Torchwick hushed the shopkeeper with a grimace. "Burn dust, uncut. And I want to see each crystal before you box it – you aren't passing off any low quality stuff onto me". Thus was the old man kept from noticing the one event that might have made him willing to reveal any personal details about the strange man robbing him, instead of following normal policy of "keep your mouth shut unless you want him to come back and shut your mouth for you".
It is said that Hunters can detect killing intent. It is also said that Hunters have learned to hide all emotion, since their primary prey are emotion-sensing monstrosities. Perhaps both sayings are true. But for whatever reason, the young raven-haired girl reading a magazine while blasting music into her ears did not notice the man with a blade behind her until it was too late. This robbery was to go according to plan, and a novice huntress was not enough to keep that from happening. It wasn't the most enjoyable thing that the hired Hunter had ever done, but he had gotten used to distasteful jobs. No Hunter really counted as a child anyway, regardless of size. And no Hunter could survive being run through by his sword, protective Aura be damned. The red cloak was even kind enough to contain most of the mess.
Less dust was carried out of the shop than intended, on account of one man having to carry a large and unwieldy bag instead of containers of dust, but overall the take was well within acceptable parameters. The additional package would be dealt with appropriately, and there was little chance of the girl's… disappearance becoming connected to Torchwick in any way. That wouldn't fit his image after all. One could hardly be a lovable thief if one went around killing kids. Torchwick smiled and allowed himself a single twirl of his cane… when nobody was looking of course - he was a professional after all.