Ivan walked down the busy street, the midafternoon traffic blaring all around him as he walked. He was wearing a slim black zip up jacket with a high collar. He also had a dark grey pair of combat fatigues and black combat boots. There was a white army scarf wrapped around the lower parts of his face covering his eyes were a dark pair of aviators. On top of his head, covering a short black mow hawk was a black beanie with a small skull emblem on the side. On his back was mid-sized backpack. Anyone looking at him would have thought that he was a common teenager but he was far from that. No one would have thought that he was the world's youngest, and deadliest, assassin. Indeed it was true, he was only sixteen and he already had 87 kills under his belt. He was also currently on the run from 20 different government agencies, FBI, CIA, and MI 6 to name a few. He had contacts in the IRA, the Spetznaz, and many gangs across America, Mexico, and England. His charges ranged from theft all the way to terrorism and everything in-between. His was happy with his life, he didn't care what people said about him, and he found fun out of what he did.
He was still walking down said street when he suddenly took a left into an alleyway, it was a shortcut to one of his safe houses, and was mid-way through when pain exploded in his whole body. This was pain that he had never felt before, it felt like someone replaced his innards with magma, and it hurt. He soon collapsed to the ground seeming in pain and he soon passed out from the pain.