This chapter is brought to you by ShadowMajin.

"This is Jimmy Firecracker, coming to you live outside of the First National Bank where earlier today NAIE Agent Tien Shinhan was gundowned in front of a crowd of hundreds, including members of the Blue Star Police Department. As our viewers know, Agent Shinhan was the man at the center of the Tactical Securities Scandal that broke out four months ago that led to the ouster of former NAIE Director Jackie Roshi and the indictment of three senators.

"Earlier this morning, Agent Shinhan had been called in to assist in the investigation of a massacre that occurred within the walls of First National. According to eyewitness reports, the agent was approaching the doors when he was shot in the head from long range, killed instantly.

"Sources have indicated the shot came from the Chariot Hotel. A police investigation is currently underway in one of the rooms in the hotel, though which room is currently being withheld.

Trunks stared at the television set, his blue eyes taking in everything the reporter said. No matter which news channel he watched, it was the same thing. Agent Shinhan was dead, the shot was taken from the Chariot, and there was no mention as to the identity of the shooter. No mention of the wrecked room or any potential evidence that had been left behind.

Which meant the police had no idea who he was, or were keeping it secret. He had left blood at the scene thanks to that assassin shooting him, but that was all. He hadn't left behind any evidence of his presence at any of his other jobs, so there was no way he could be linked, or be found in a criminal database. It was a small comfort in a messed up situation.

That just left the young man to ponder about his assailant. Her appearance in the game had completely thrown him off. He should have been done with this job and with 17, but with her out for his head, he couldn't exactly just slip off. She would hunt him down until she was successful or dead. At this point in time, Trunks favored the latter option.

However, the youth wasn't going to wait around for her to find him. Now that he knew she was out there, he was gonna take the fight to her. The lavender-haired man just had to track her down.

Unfortunately, that was going to easier said than done. Despite her blue skin and exotic features, she kept a low profile, which meant she would be a tough person to locate. Trunks hadn't even noticed her tailing him until the last moment when she stuck her gun in his face. Where she came from or used as lodging was unknown. Hell, he didn't even know her name. The only info he had on her was that she was searching for him.

Hmm, now there's something. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage. With her on high alert for his presence, the moment she spotted him she would be hot on his heels. So why not give her what she wanted? Of course, he would have to make it natural looking and in no way suspicious.

It was a calculated risk, but he had to take it.


Trunks felt exposed, a feeling he really didn't like. Never had he paraded himself around town for all to see, just in the hopes of attracting one single, solitary person; this was an experience he rather not have to repeat.

Perhaps parading was too strong of a word for what he was doing. The young man was simply walking around town, mingling amongst the common folk. Lord he hated this. These people were sheep, hurrying around with a perceived sense of purpose. Being near them was enough to make him gag, though he refrained from doing so. People of his stature did not gag in front of insects.

This had better be worth it. Trunks kept his gaze forward, never glancing around for who he hoped would be following him. The youth didn't want to give off the impression he was actively searching for the blue-skinned woman. She could be tipped off to his plan and...and…

No, that was wrong. Idiot! He should appear to be looking for her. Why else would he be taking this risk? Trunks had been in this game long enough to not feel cocky about a getaway. If he went around looking unconcerned, it gave off the vibe that he thought he had gotten away from his attacker. That might have worked if this had been one of his first jobs, but he was a veteran of many encounters. His level of skill should have been obvious to the woman and she would know that he wouldn't be so carefree.

Turning his head towards the street, he shot his eyes up and down it, a feigned attempt at observing for anything out of the ordinary. He copied this with a look to his right and then returned his head to his original position. More effort was going to have to go into this than he had anticipated.

Coming to a stop an intersection, the lavender-haired youth did his best to appear nonchalant as he turned his upper body to the left, and then the right, putting on a show so as not to look as if he were trying to look behind him. It felt silly, but he had to do to it, to perform for his audience of one. With his eyes, he swept it up and down the road in front of him, searching for the exotic woman despite knowing he would not succeed.

Noticing the growing crowd around him begin to move forward, Trunks followed their example, crossing to the other side of the street and continuing his walk. Again, he continued with his search until his frustrations began to get the best of him.

Damn it, this was stupid! Why had he thought of his moronic plan in the first place? He was in a freaking city for crying out loud! Why made him think his assailant would be somewhere on this street out of all of the crisscrossing roads? This was pointless; it was time to come up with a new plan. Scowling, Trunks kept walking to the next intersection before taking a right. It was going to be a long hike back to the motel. Seriously, what had he been thinking?


It took a couple hours before Trunks returned to his motel. The entire time he had been fuming, kicking himself for his fanciful thoughts. His father would be ashamed if he saw him now. Agent Prince would never have thought it would work.

Coming up to his room, his blue eyes swept the wooden door. Though his father had thought it stupid, Trunks had always felt more comfortable leaving small markers about his things, so that he could tell if they had been moved. That included leaving a small string trapped between the door and its framed in one of the upper corners, usually on the side where the hinges were. If the string was still up there, it meant no one had entered his residence or were smart enough to put it back after they left.

As he looked to the spot, the young man froze in place. The string, it was missing. Instantly his eyes shot to the floor, finding the small piece of yarn lying on the ground. Someone had been in his room and were either still there or had left. Reaching behind him, Trunks stuck his hand underneath his shirt and gripped the handle of the handgun resting in the waistband of his pants. Bring it down to his side, he flicked off the safety.

With his other hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his room key. Inserting it into the lock, he unlocked the door and pushed it open, immediately holding his gun in front of him. He couldn't see anyone in the darkened room, but that didn't mean they weren't there.

Pulling the key out of the lock and putting it back into his pocket, Trunks cautiously stepped into the room, absently closing the door behind him, the door softly clicking shut. The only source of light he had was from a window further into the room, allowing the afternoon rays in. Glancing to the bathroom entrance to his right, he immediately pointed his weapon into the room, glaring into the darkness. Taking a step into it, he blindly searched for the light switch and clumsily flicked it, the light instantly coming up. Jerking the gun from side to side, Trunks didn't see anyone in there, including the bathtub; it had been fortunate he had left the shower curtain pulled back. So no one was in there. Fine, time for the rest of the room.

As he turned around, the young man froze. Outside of the bathroom, on the wall facing it was a mirrored door—a closet. Trunks first urge was to immediately shoot at it, the barrel of his gun pointing at it. The only thing that stayed his itchy trigger finger was the fact that he could be wasting bullets on nothing and would leave himself shorthanded if his unwanted visitor was somewhere else in the room. That didn't even take into account the noise of the gun would assuredly get someone's attention. Any sane person would call in the police to investigate the firing of gunshots. No, he needed to proceed cautiously here.

Carefully, he stepped out of the bathroom and moved to the right of the mirrored door. It was a sliding door if the railing above and beneath the mirror were any indication. It was also divided in half with the right half further out than the left, so that it could slide in front of it. Pressing the side of his body against the sheetrock of the wall, Trunks held his gun in front of him as he reached out with his other hand to the door. Taking a deep breath, he then forced the door open.

Gunfire sounded off as a blinding light flashed with every shot. Trunks instinctively leaned back, his ears ringing from the roar of the gunpowder explosions.

That was when a gun emerged out of the closet aimed right at him. Instantly, Trunks shot his free hand up and grabbed his attacker's wrist, all the while jerking himself to his left. Pushing the gun-holding hand against the wall, the young man brought up his own weapon and slammed the butt of the handle on top of the hand. This resulted in his attacker's hand spasming in pain and dropping the gun to the floor.

Quickly stepping backwards, Trunks them yanked on the arm, pulling the mystery person out of the closet, seeing a mass of familiar orange hair. Baring his teeth, he swung the woman to his right and exposed her back to him. Moving behind her, he released his hold on the blue-skinned woman's arm and raised one of his legs, lashing out with a vicious kick that landed in the middle of her back.

The force of the blow sent the woman crashing to the ground, though she didn't stay there for long. Immediately she was scrambling to turn herself around and get back onto her feet, something that stopped as Trunks fired a shot from his gun, the bullet hitting right at her feet and causing her to freeze.

"That's enough out of you," the lavender-haired youth said, scowling at her. Though his first instinct was to put a bullet right between her eyes, he needed answers and corpses weren't very forthcoming with them. Staring at the woman as her eyes blazed with fury at him, he carefully went through the questions he had and picked one to start off with. "Who are you," he stated more than asked.

When the woman didn't answer, Trunk's scowl deepened. "I'm not asking for your real name, if that's what you're afraid of, Woman. Your code name will suffice."

It was several seconds later before the woman's rich voice replied, "Agent Pirate."

Really? She's a pirate? Un-freaking-believable. They'll use any stupid name nowadays, wouldn't they? His disproving thoughts of code names aside, Trunks had more pressing questions that needed attention. "Why is there a hit out for me?"

The corner of Pirate's mouth twitched up, her eyes softening with pleasure. Apparently she found amusement in his lack of knowledge—bitch. If she pressed her luck, she would find out how he dealt with people that pissed him off. Still she answered him, "The Dormant Job."

Trunks clenched his teeth tightly at those words. What the hell did that bastard have to do with this? Was this an attempt at vengeance? For that murdering piece of trash? Was Dormant apart of another agency already and his boss didn't appreciate having his top agent getting iced? Well tough shit, this profession wasn't for the weak and petty. Death happened, end of story. "And what do you have to do with him?" he gritted out darkly.

There was a giggle—a giggle!—before the woman replied, "You should already know the answer to that. Dormant's had a target on his back since he destroyed Tactical Securities."

It took a moment for the young man to process that. Yeah, now that he thought about it, it should have been obvious. If Dormant had been able to take down an entire agency single-handedly, then he posed a significant threat to all the other agencies. They all would have wanted him as either an employee or dead. He was too dangerous to leave out in the cold and hope he didn't come after them. It was better to be safe and sorry, which meant they all would have been gunning him, if not to preserve themselves, than to prevent the competition from hiring him.

"So what, you wanted to collect the bounty on his head?" Trunks asked, a slight hint of doubt in his voice. Even to his own ears, that sounded rather weak.

The smirk on Pirate's face grew wider; she was enjoying having all the answers he wanted and lording it over his head—how womanly of her. What was it with women and having to keep secrets?

However, Pirate seemed to feel as if she needed to explain it to him as she said, "You took down a high-priority target. Whatever was associated with Dormant has been transferred to you. You're the target now."

Trunks blinked his eyes at that before a sense of dread filled him. This couldn't be, not his revenge. This entire thing was mutating into something beyond what he originally thought it would be. Was this why 17 wanted him to kill Dormant? So that he could avoid the backlash it would inevitably cause? That bastard!

But wait, while he could understand some people wanting him dead now, wouldn't there have been others that would want his services? "What, were you out of positions at your agency?" he snarled at her.

"If you were a woman, we would have had plenty of space for you," Pirate replied simply. "However, Father doesn't really care for men, so he thought it best that you be eliminated."

Of all the sexist things… a woman-only agency? How absurd! "How unfortunate," Trunks said. "Though he's gonna have to be finding a replacement now."

The young man let his words sink into Pirate's head, a small sense of satisfaction welling up within him as he saw her eyes widened with realization. Not so smug now, huh bitch? With a pull of the trigger, he fired his gun, putting a bullet right between her eyes. The force of the shot jerked Pirate's head backwards and slammed her upper body down to the ground. A spray of red blood painted the backwall as a growing puddle began to form beneath her curly orange hair.

It was a bit anti-climatic, but it was just what she deserved. Snorting derisively, Trunks turned around to the front door, ready to leave this place. He would have to because of the commotion and—

A loud knock sounded off at the door, causing Trunks to freeze. His stomach dropped as his face paled when he heard a muffled voice on the other side call out, "Police, open up."

Trunks' snapped his head back to Agent Pirate and then down to his gun. There was no way that cop walked into this room and not know that he had shot this woman dead. He did not need this right now! Hearing another loud knock, the young man began searching the room for another way out when he locked in on the window.

Though he had been trained not to leave a speck of evidence behind, Trunks was out of time. No way could he wipe away all of his fingerprints and eradicate any identifying markers of his stay here. He had to get out now. His only consolation was that he wouldn't be identified right away, precious time he would need to get the hell out of this city and disappear underground.

Damn it all.


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