The limousine ride turned into a ferry ride, and that ferry ride turned into a taxi ride, and by the end Killua was carsick, seasick, and just sick of transportation in general. At least he had arrived at the journey's end, and there was no sign of getting in any other horrid vehicles until the return trip. The white haired boy pushed off the post he had been leaning on with his hands in his pockets, to saunter around the clearing of which he idly stood and kick a rock in his path. It flew into the brush that lined the border of the preserve, probably spooking a good amount of the little animals that were scampering around to look for sustenance for the season's change. It was getting rather chilly, anyway. Hopping up on a strut of the fence he had previously been leaning on, he pondered more about the fauna for a good ten minutes, only to reach the same conclusion as he did fifteen minutes earlier, he was bored out of his mind. His mother was off on the phone talking to Miss Missing Organs; he could hear her lilting voice from where he stood, as they waited for Illumi to come back from his quick land survey. He huffed to himself. He honestly just wanted to get this mission up and going, for that at least that would be entertaining enough to keep him from falling asleep standing up.
He glanced around from atop the fence post he was perched upon, admiring the netted-in community that was the nature preserve, open at the top so that migratory birds had a place to rest during their travels, but otherwise surrounded by electric blue net, high enough that no human could ever dream of jumping it. Behind it was lush greenery, oaks, pines, willows, dogwoods, and any bark that could be dreamed of mingling with the lower tufts sprouting out from the soil. With a squint, he focused on the shade of an old spindly tree, vines twisting around its base and winding up to separate and claim branches to each their own. It was then he saw a shadow. A very tall and round shadow, a shadow with a tie and suit, a shadow that froze in shock and dropped its boxes at the sight of another human. Killua waited a second in muted disbelief, before smirking and leaping off his post to cling to the wire that made up the divider between forest and civilization. His mother and Illumi could rattle him for running off later, right now there was prey to catch.
As his fingers landed a firm grasp on the netting, he was jolted by hundreds of volts of burning static. Of course the fence was electric, why would it not be? And using the new standard too, magnificently shining blue voltage running through clear tempered metal, for a more decorative and less threatening approach of protection for the wood, and still keeping the area behind beautiful for tourists and environmentalists to admire. However, the assassin had no issues grinding through, years of shock treatment (or torture, now that he looked back) making it more easy than not to scale and dismount the tangle of wires and land on the forest floor with a cat's balance and precision. He snapped his head up milliseconds after the soles of his shoes hit the dirt, alert and listening, searching for a trace of where the culprit had run off to. A crunch in the dried leaves of the previous autumn 50 meters southwest. Bingo. He pushed off into a sprint, lightning fast and with a certain elegance only a trained killer could perceive, and was tailing the man in no time. He certainly was faster than he expected some old white guy in a tailored suit to be, maybe because of adrenaline he was pumping into his veins, but no matter, Killua was still rapidly approaching and had no signs of stopping. The target knew this, yet in a stunning sight of willpower and stupidity, he attempted to shake off the small assassin. He bounded around thick trees, through gaps between root and ground, slid through mud, and zigzagged through the darkness from the tall leaf canopies, but the soft, nearly indiscernible crunches of leaves never ceased to stop nipping at his heels. The man took a chance, hoping for the best, and looked back to his pursuer. All he could see were the true blue iris' of a little white haired boy, not even twenty centimeters from being right on top of him.
Ever the opportunist, Killua leapt, legs clamping around the target's torso, knocking him off his feet and sending him tumbling to the ground. They rolled for a while, the man screaming with agony from the hard rocks and barbs creating cuts and gashes in his skin, Killua being more or less indifferent. They finally came to a halt when the forest floor evened out. He unwrapped his legs while the man was still disoriented from the rolling and blow of hitting the unsuspected, but pleasant surprise of a thick tree root, headfirst, and stood to brush himself off. Experienced fingers ran over his clothes, checking for any rips or tears. Two in the turtleneck, three in the shorts, and aw, a big nasty one on his favorite hoodie. What a shame. He turned back to his prey to see him snivelling in the pile of leaves, a nasty gash on his right temple, probably concussion worthy. Good for him. He'll be dizzy when he dies.
He nudged him with his foot, maybe a bit too forcefully. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty, get up. I need some answers over here."
He was silent, either out of fear or unawareness of the situation. Killua hoped it was the former, he had always liked seeing them shiver.
His knees dug into the brush near the man's head. "Okay, let's begin. Listen closely, mister, I'm only asking once, and I'll be pretty upset if I don't get answers," He lowered his voice to a breathy whisper, "And you wouldn't want to see me angry, now would you?"
The target shook his head vigorously. His body quaked and he was near to tears. Awesome.
"Why are you here?"
His voice was ragged and raspy, still a bit higher than the average man's, "I...I'm in hiding."
"From what?"
"Uh, th-that would be my colleague…"
"Hm. Why are you hiding from them?"
"I...I...I!" His voice rattled, forcing semi-words to spill out, but no answers.
Killua spat, "Snap out of it, old man. I'm on a time limit." Not that he was, of course, he really just wanted to get home.
"I-I stole our stock, I-It's in the cave of the willow by the pond! Look there! Believe me, its all there! I never touched the stuf-" Tears were leaking from eyes afraid to die, when sharp nails rammed through his chest, only a few fingers poking through the other side.
In less than the time it took to blink, his heart was out of his body, still bloody and beating, while a young man slowly walks away, back facing the gory mess.
With a sudden halt, he turned back, hands in his pockets and a smirk stenciled on his face. "Thanks for the answers, mister, rest in pieces." Man, he cracks himself up.
The 'cave of the willow' could not be more of an accurate term. Somehow, in some way, a weeping willow had rooted itself above a cavern in the rock of a small cliff, leaves hanging down to form a natural curtain to the entrance. They brushed the rippling surface of the nearby glassy-clear pond with their tips, drawing loose circles with the wind pushing and pulling them to and fro. It was a mystical and beautiful sight, almost what you could only imagine in folk stories and paradise dreams. Wouldn't Alluka love to see this. He snapped a quick picture. Moving forward, he pulled apart the drapery to find himself in the gaping maw of a wide, yet not deep, industrialized cavern, probably previously owned as a storage space when the preserve was not established and the area was still free. The walls, evened out and covered with steel sheet metal, still looking more new than not, were covered in papers, ranging from delivery lists to plans of a large-scale rocket lookalike that had the appearance of something majorly dangerous, almost on the apocalyptic level, the idea only enhanced by the nearby barrels of what could be explosives and gunpowder. Good thing the head of the project is lying on the forest ground, blood spouting from his chest and probably dead by now. But that was not of importance at the moment, what he needed to do was find the stolen goods. He navigated through the darkness of the cave, checking every box and case he could fumble for before reaching his hand in to a tall freezing locker and grasping the familiar fleshiness that was a lung. Fantastic, it was all there. Job done. He spun on his heel, about to go alert whoever needed to hear, when, from the very back of the cavern, a faint clanking and whirring echoed towards him, followed by a loud CLASH of metal hitting cement flooring.
He froze. In the midst of his halt, his feet had taken full control of his motion, and with a quick turn, he was facing the back of the human mind naturally seeked out answers, and his curiosity was too great to leave without at least a hint of what had happened. He found himself with slowed breathing and lightened footsteps, slowly creeping towards the source of the continuous noise. The boy was on edge, questions racing through his conscious. What if the man he had killed had an associate? Someone stronger? Someone who could actually create what had been blueprinted on the wall and cause the destruction he had joked about? His feet shuffled farther forward, back sliding along the walls until he found himself blocked by a long filing cabinet. The noise was just on the other side, the only path between cabinet and wall much too narrow for a direct route of escape. He wanted to about-face and leave whatever may be behind there for no one to see, to let Illumi handle whatever or whoever was back there. Alas, to his terror, his feet refused to move in any direction that was not rounding the corner to what could be his doom.
He stopped and opened his eyes once his feet had passed into the area behind the cabinet, and was greeted with the sight of a boy, or maybe not even just a boy, slumped on the back wall, oil leaking from the corners of his mouth, an eye and wires hanging out of their socket, spiky hair (or so he thought, it could be the texture of metal) covered in grime, an arm out of its rightful place on the body and instead a couple inches away on the hard floor, and rusted iron limbs under torn rubber skin.