Memories Of a Raven I: Where She Tainted Hope with Despair, He Did So with Blood and Death.
Minneapolis, Minnesota. One Month Before the Entrance of Hope's Peak Last Generation of Students…
Fuel-O-Novanet. A relatively medium-sized organization in comparison with its international competitors in the production and distribution of fuels. Though even if that is the case, no one can deny its status as a rising star when considering how much it has grown recently.
Two years ago, nobody in the U.S knew of the name, some now wondering if it even existed back then. Now? Japan, China, Brazil, Russia, and Germany, there isn't anyone who doesn't recognize them, no matter which corner of the world you talk about. It got to the point that its CEO, Oliver Morales, gets mentioned along with the likes of the Togami's and Towa's in magazines, tv shows, and the internet. Some rumors even suggest talks of negotiations blooming between those two aforementioned in a not-so-distant future.
Such blossoming fame comes from their stellar product: Nova Fuel. An almost miraculous combustible, which not only is the first almost non-contaminant fuel in existence, hard to believe as it is, the main component consists of ocean trash. Through concessions Fuel-O-Novanet arranged with the government, they get permission to recollect the trash found in the sea, bring it back to their facilities, and turn said waste into fuel.
The now cleaner than ever sea surrounding the U.S and the day-by-day growth in the use of Nova Fuel can attest to the success of the company.
One doesn't have to be a genius to understand that if Fuel-O-Novanet were to keep up this pace for, shall we say, a decade, their revolutionary invention and work standards would get them at the very top of the fuel industry, all the while their expansion would also signify a brighter and Hopeful future in which our society would finally take a step in solving one of their most Despairful problems that have afflicted humanity for around two centuries.
Such a shame that their days are numbered.
Located in one of the most prominent cities of the U.S, Novanet's main center of operations couldn't prevent standing out with its twenty-story building among an assemblage of sixty, seventy, and even up to ninety story monsters of buildings surrounding it. Plus, as if to emphasize how committed they are to their cause, its white clean walls 'At least the outer ones…' couldn't be more contrasting to the grey and with specs of grime from their peers.
Although regardless of all the aforementioned assertions, the only thing worth noting tonight about this place was a single thing.
Silence.
The insides of the edifice were deathly quiet, so much that you would be forgiven for thinking this place was long abandoned.
Some people would blame it on being past midnight, though even that explanation wouldn't really work as reason enough. Being the main office of a company with such prestige as Novanet, it's far from rare to still have personnel at these hours like bodyguards, surveillance officers, a night-shift receptionist in case of emergency visitors, cleaning staff, and the occasional employee pulling some extra hours.
Even so, no matter where you peered through; corridors, the kitchen, restrooms, workstations, meeting rooms, the security room, and any other type of room you could expect in this facility. Nothing. Try as you might, you wouldn't find or hear a single living soul…
…Save for one place.
As expected of a building with corporative functions, the very seat of power in Novanet's main headquarters was found on the highest floor. There, two individuals were facing each other on opposite sides of the executive office.
Sitting at a desk at the very back of the room, there was a man in his late forties. He had a pointy nose and small dark eyes. His hair was orange-brownish, set far up his forehead making noticeable the two moles on the left side of it, meanwhile, his attire consists of a green dress shirt, a green tie, and a black blazer with matching pants.
This man was Oliver Morales, the founder, and CEO of Fuel-O-Novanet itself.
"W-W-W-Who are you!? How d-did you g-get in!? What is security doing!?" Such an important figure squawked at the person pointing a gun at him on the other end of the room.
A messy black-haired teenager with golden eyes.
Me.
While the Novanet CEO was frozen in stunning fear, I dropped the duffel bag I had on my left shoulder before moving out of the entrance in his direction, never changing the trajectory at which the firearm in my right hand was pointing.
As if a spell got broken somewhere in the middle of my strolling, the executive director was brought out of his stupor while glancing underneath his desk.
Though before he got any ideas… "Don't even think about it. I can shoot you straight in the head faster than you could reach that button"
"H-How did you…?!" How did I know? Easy, he's far from the first person with one of those in his office. If I'm honest, it wouldn't be a problem if it worked to just call security. But if it's for the police? Yeah, I won't try my luck on that.
He doesn't have to know that, though.
Be that as it may, I got closer and closer as the CEO grew more and more fearful.
When I was just in front of his desk, I used my left hand to rummage through the biggest inner pocket of my jacket, ignoring the flinching of the adult in front of me.
"…Y-You…You haven't a-answered my question, what…what do you want!? Who are you!?"
Instead of giving him a verbal answer, I brought out what I was looking for and laid it out on his desk.
Though still scared, such motion spared some of it in favor of a moderate sense of curiosity as he looked down at the black folder on his workspace. As if in a trance of sorts, he stared at it for half a minute before warily tilting his head up "…What…what is this?"
This time, I gave him an answer "…Open it"
The Novanet officer blinked once, twice, before complying with the order. He flicked the file open, then, slowly picked up the single document found in it with so much care that one would think he believes he was dealing with a bomb. Following that, he stared at me for a brief moment before beginning to read the paper's contents.
While doing so, I could hear some mutters in between "…Fuel-O-Novanet…concessions of…Pecsino, Saudi Comara…thirty percent of shareholders…PetroBrasil, Ronchev…" The more he looked back and forth at the document, the more his eyes widened and the horror lingering on his features temporally shifted away from me towards what he was reading.
When he was finally done, he understandably snapped at me "W-What the hell is this!?"
"It's an agreement requesting for the Executive Officer of Fuel-O-Novanet to concede properties, contracts, foreign projects, and everything in between related to the company at one cent per share to those mentioned in the document. I want you to sign it" Was my matter-of-factly reply.
"I KNOW IT SAYS THAT!" Though it seems he didn't find any grace in that "Do you have any idea of what this piece of crap asks of me!?" Well, I couldn't say business is my strongest suit, but I have a general picture, yes "J-Just agreeing to half of this is enough to turn Novanet into a crisis from which it could never recover! A-And you want me to put my name on this!? Are you insane!? B-Besides! For the third time, who the hell are you!?"
"…Who I am doesn't matter, only that you that you sign the agreement"
"D-D…DON'T MESS WITH ME! All those greedy bastards want is the get rid of a clean alternative like Nova Fuel is!"
"…"
It seems my silence riled him up "W-W-Who do you think you are to ask something like this!? I refuse―"
Though before the CEO of Nova could finish that sentence, I fired the gun in my possession…while aiming at the wall, with the bullet traveling beside the adult in a suit close enough for the projectile to caress his cheek, the small red line beginning to form in the midsection of his face being proof of it.
Meanwhile, after seeing the smoke coming out of my firearm, the now pale as a ghost Executive Officer turned at a turtle pace to look behind him and confirm by himself that, indeed, on the concrete behind him there was a small dent "…H-H-Huh?"
I took that as my cue to answer his untold question "Do not misunderstand, I won't hesitate to make the next shot hit bullseye, and you don't have any leverage to convince me otherwise. I'm sure you know who's pulling the strings based on the names mentioned in the document. Making you sign the paper it's their easy way of doing this. Straight up killing you, albeit at a slower pace, would have the exact same results for them"
The fire within the ultimate authority of Novanet slowly but surely began to die out at hearing this. As it did, I could hear a humorless laugh escape his mouth "They will keep trying until my replacement is someone who will bend the knee. Or in its stead, they will make use of the following chaos from my demise to make their moves…is that what you are saying? That it is futile for me to refuse to sign this?"
"Mhm" Him figuring it out makes things easier for me.
I admit that for a moment I thought torture was going to be required to get that signature out of him when he opened his mouth in what had chances of being more protests on his part.
Although before that occurred, his eyes turned to something on the right side of the desk. Not wanting to leave him out of my sight, I made use of my peripherical vision to take a look at what he was seeing.
It was the picture of a family within a frame. There was a straight brown-haired woman in his early forties, a kid between eight and ten, perhaps eleven years old. Something around that. The resemblance to Morales was undeniable, almost as if looking at a way younger version of the man. And as is to be expected, the Executive Officer of Fuel-O-Novanet itself hugging what most probably is his wife with one arm while rubbing his son's hair with the hand of the other.
The three of them posing while an amusement park worked as the background theme of their solidified memory, with smiles plastered on their faces.
Having an object like this one here of all places, working as proof of the happy family this man is part of.
Further evidence of that was brought to me in the form of the Nova CEO caressing the top of the picture for a pair of minutes. As much as I didn't want to, I was ahead of schedule, so it was within acceptable parameters to permit this.
Not out of compassion, mind you.
It just so happens that this was convenient for me in its own way.
When he was finally done, the smile he had while looking at the picture slowly diminished before giving a resigned sigh and turning in my direction "…Family…that's the most important thing there's in the world, don't you agree?"
…I do. I one hundred percent agree with that statement.
"…" But I wasn't going to admit it with this stranger, neither by words nor through facial expressions.
"This…what we do here could lead the world towards a brighter future, and I would be lying if I said that everything I've worked for in the past years doesn't mean anything to me…" He said with a proud smile…that quickly faded for a grimmer expression, no different than having a first seat to watch ships moving day and night dumping tons and tons of trash into the ocean "…but I would also be lying if I said that it holds more value than my people, those waiting for me at the end of every shift, I mean. I'm…I'm just not that good of a person…"
"…"
…Sigh.
He's a decade too late for the sympathizing card to work on me, and even back then, I have my doubts of this having any chance of sticking out.
Finally catching that I wasn't going to entertain him, he cut the chase with a defeated look "…If…If I…" The Novanet CEO gave a big gulp as if swallowing his shame at what he was about to say "…If I truly do this, will…will I see them again!?" Hope and despair mixed in his eyes as he continued with his pleading "I-If I commit this sin and b-betray those that have followed me this far, will I get to live and see my family!?"
…
"…If you sign the agreement, I won't shoot you"
"R-Really?" As though not hearing well what I said, he asked for confirmation while the despair dissipated out of his mind and the hope finally began to set home.
"Mhm, you have my word on that. Although I won't hold onto that promise if you make any attempt in putting your hands somewhere under the desk"
"D-Don't worry about that!" He hurriedly opened the pocket on his left chest and picked up a personalized pen and showed it to me while shaking it "I'm always ready for battle! See? H-Haha…" I wasn't laughing "R-Right, right, the contract…"
The Executive Officer began to shakily approach his right hand on the agreement, though when he saw how uncontrollably shaky it was becoming, he quickly grabbed his wrist with the other limb to suppress said trembling. He sighed in relief when his trembling hand did indeed come to a halt after doing that, then he flickered his head up in my direction and gave a nervous laugh.
When he saw that, once again, I wasn't laughing at all, he snapped his head down and quickly, though still keeping a semblance of control in his hand, signed the document.
After being done with the motions of his hand, he put the pen aside and slid the file closer to my side of the desk "…There"
Without lowering my gun, I used my other hand to pick up the document, and even though I kept it in my line of sight, I did so apart enough from me to still have an eye at the adult in a suit to make sure he doesn't try anything funny.
I reviewed the document up and down, looking for any alterations he could've made. I had multiple copies with me, just in case, though I admit it would be a relief if this situation doesn't lead to me requiring them.
Once I confirmed the document was as clean as I presented it to the Executive Officer, I moved toward the signature section.
Sure enough, his name written in cursive was there. I knew this was the real deal because the client had the foresight of sending me evidence of how it looked in the first place. 'If only people doing that were the norm and not the exception. It would make my job easier, that's for sure…'
Be that as it may, true to the Novanet CEO's words, everything was as it should be.
"…E-E-Everything in order?" The trembling voice of the adult in a suit brought my inspection of the document to an end.
"Mhm, I don't see anything suspicious within the file"
Hearing that made him sigh in relief "O-Oh, thank goodness…" He turned to me once again, with a hopeful yet frightened look on his face "You…you will hold on to your promise, r-right?"
…
"…Mhm, just as promised I won't shoot you" While saying so, I began to put down both my gun and the folder before storing them back into my jacket.
"I…I see. I admit I was worried, for a moment I thought―"
Before he saw it happening, I was already behind him.
"Eh?"
I put one hand under his chin to lift it, giving me a bigger angle of his neck.
"W-What are you―!?"
With the other hand, I placed one of my daggers close to it, and before he could say or do anything else…
…I slit his throat.
"URGGGGHH! W-W…hy…" That groan was the last protest I heard of him as his arms that were about to lunge at me dropped to the sides. Meanwhile, I could see how the life liquid began to flow out of his neck in abundant quantities as it stained his suit in red. Some of it flew high enough to smear his desk.
Not even that picture frame was spared.
Once I let go of him, gravity did its job, and thanks to how he was positioned, the Executive Officer fell out of his chair and to the ground with a thud. That allowed me to see that the light in his eyes was already gone.
That in combination with the massive blood loss confirmed to me that Oliver Morales, founder, and CEO of Fuel-O-Novanet, was without a shadow of a doubt dead.
Just as promised, I didn't used a bullet to kill him…Though if he thought that I was going to let go of someone who knew what he knew to live, that was on him.
…
…
…
…That about covers it, I suppose.
I already took care of the security, surveillance, and…well, any other present staff within the building. I sabotaged the control room, deleting the last few hours of footage. Not like I was seen in any of it, thanks to me making my way inside the building through the ducks and to said room first and foremost, but it is better to be safe than sorry about these things. Finally, the misleading evidence of what happened here has already been planted too…
…Well at least the first half of it has.
Now the only pending task is to make it near-impossible for anyone to figure out what exactly happened here.
Walking back to the entrance, I picked up the duffel bag I left there just a few minutes ago. Following that, I left the room.
The first sight that greeted me in the corridor was a pair of uniformed individuals whose heads were facing unnaturally in the wrong direction.
I didn't pay them any more mind than that, though. Instead, I strolled past them and took a few turns through the corridors until I reached the staircase leading down the 19th floor.
On this new floor, I once again moved through a few more hallways until the sanitized smell of the building turned sour, like the scent of oil and metal mixing. This informed me that I'd stepped inside my first stop.
It was your run-by-the-mill workspace found in any corporative office. There was a pair of shelves in the corner, most probably filled with financial documents, contracts, transactions, and employee reports, among other similar stuff. Meanwhile, most of the room was filled with rows of chairs, desks, and computers along with other niche stuff like notebooks and pens.
Although among all of that, the most noticeable aspect inside this place was the walls stained with the occasional spec of blood…along with the corpses littering not far from it.
Just like before, I ignored them in favor of moving towards the very center of the room, where I put down my bag and began to unzip it, thus, revealing its contents.
A C-4 explosive, well, more like a lot of them. Each one was potent enough to neutralize everything in a thirty-meter radius, and if properly installed every three floors until reaching the fourth one within this building, they should work well enough to cause an implosion.
I'm not a fan of making this much noise, but the contract specified that I was to make this seem like a terrorist attack in which no one within the building survived. For what reason? The contract didn't say and neither the higher-ups from the Salvation Society told me when they sent me said contract. I could make assumptions 'None of them good', but it's not my job to question these things, only to comply with what I was asked for.
Either way, I already put some items alluding to an organization back in Syria around the building. Some of it will be destroyed to varying degrees, but that's fine, I'm trying to sell a realistic scenario here. Besides, a few of them are resistant enough so when the building collapses and people begin to investigate the scene of the crime, they get a 'solid lead' of what occurred here.
All that's left for me is to place the explosives.
Carefully picking one of them out of the bag, I put the square-shaped device underneath a desk. After making sure that there wasn't anything nearby that could make it react before I use the detonator, I grabbed my bag and stood up in search of other locations to put the C-4s around the floors below.
As I descended the office, repeated the exact process through different areas of the building. Bathrooms, kitchens, conference rooms, anywhere it seemed convenient enough to install the explosives.
While doing so, I encountered a dead body every now and then. Some with their necks snapped no different than the guards back on the 20th floor, others had multiple stab wounds in their chests, throats, or heads. There were also a pair for which I had to drown using the toilets nearby and a technician that died electrocuted when I pushed him against an electrical panel in the power control room.
No doubt it wasn't their best way to go, but there are worse methods, I suppose.
Be that as it may, once I was done with the explosive on the fourth floor, I quickened my pace towards the first one. After dashing down through the last sets of stairs within this building and making it to it, I was greeted by darkness. Not surprising, considering that it was me who cut off the energy from this floor.
To my slight chagrin, this floor's walls were composed for the most part by windows. Yeah, I moved the bodies of the receptionist, janitor, and what looked like three salarymen under a desk, but the blood spilled would've possibly gathered some curious glances from the outside.
So, between allowing such sight or the weirdness from the lack of illumination on the first floor in comparison to the rest 'Because cutting the power of the entire building and the subsequent panic on those still alive back then was a big no', I went for the latter. At least people would confuse it for a power outage under these circumstances.
These missions where too many people are involved and stealth is of high priority are the most problematic, as I can't always afford the most convenient killing method, but it is what it is.
Complaints aside, after confirming that there wasn't any presence near the backdoor, I erased my presence and stepped outside the building. After looking to the sides and confirming that I was still undetected, I walked down a few blocks to my right until I found an empty alley to hide.
Following that, I picked one last tool from the duffel bag.
A detonator.
It wasn't anything out of this world, but I admit it came with some nice functions. The device worked through the input of a code registered by the user, then, one could confirm or deny it with the green and red buttons located on each side of the detonator.
After turning the device on, I inserted the code 1-1-0-3-7 and following the wait of a few seconds, a message asking for confirmation appeared on the screen.
Without any hint of hesitation, I pressed the green button.
And that's when it happened.
Not a second after, the sound of multiple explosives detonating was heard even from this distance. Taking a peek among the chorus of panicked screams from those in presence of such an event, I saw the very moment in which the floors five up to twenty from Fuel-O-Nova crumbled from within.
The cries of horror only increased when, as if no different than a bowl being filled with water, all that weight became too much for the first four floors to support, and they began to get filled more and more by all the debris falling upon them. Some of it managed to reach outside the perimeter, but it was a small minority and it was only a meter or two away from what was once a twenty-story office. The chances of collateral death were close to zero.
Most important, though, this marked the end of the mission.
And as if destiny itself wanted to confirm as such, the right side of my pants began to vibrate.
The thing is, in the pockets of my jeans I carry disposable phones, one on my left and two on the right side. The left one is for…Maki. I like to have a phone reserved so we can always contact each other. 'No matter how Infrequently it is these days…'
On my right pocket, one was for clients who ask for my services directly, whether to receive the required intel of a contract, any last-minute changes they want to make 'With its respective extra charge, obviously…' or for me to confirm the success of my assignment.
Finally, the last one is in case a superior within the Salvation Society requires to contact me. Either because of any mission the organization itself requires done, or, as it has been more often than not for most of my career, receive the contracts through them.
The difference between a direct contract and one where the higher-ups act as intermediators is that the latter comes from the most important clients the Holy Salvation Society has. To give an idea of what counts as an 'important client', only those who are at least one-tenth as influential as the Togami's fall into this category.
Besides that, the other distinction is that for direct contracts, eighty percent of the money goes to me while the rest goes to the organization. In those arranged by the higher-ups, sixty percent of it gets commissioned by them.
You get the idea as to why they prefer the latter.
Seeing no point in musing more about it, I picked it out of my pocket. While doing so, I couldn't help the sigh of exasperation escaping my mouth.
Much to my annoyance, it was the last possibility. I could confirm as such when, after flicking the device open, the screen was signaling an incoming call under the name C.O.S: Temperance.
C.O.S was an acronym for Clan of Assassins, the cover-up name they use to hide the true name of the organization. I personally feel it's stupid to have the word 'Assassin' in it, but hey, it has worked for them so far, so what do I know?
The 'Temperance' part is because each higher-up from the Salvation Society uses a virtue as their alias, hence why such a name. That and it was also them not holding the temptation of keeping their roleplay hobby going while at the same time flaunting their ego. 'As if they needed any more of that…'
Regardless, I know better than to ignore a call from them 'More so when it's from Temperance'. Besides, they should've known I was in the middle of a mission, if one of them called even with that into consideration, it must be important. 'Or it is something that involves a lot of money for them. Either option is just as probable…'
Not wasting any more time, I put the phone close to my ear and accepted the call.
"…I am correct to assume you have completed the contract?" The moment I was on the line, a calm, yet with the slightest hint of jovial, male voice was heard.
"Mhm, Oliver Morales signed the agreement, following that, I cut the midsection of his neck. I already confirmed his death"
"I see, that's good, very good indeed! Ah, you didn't forget about the no survivors' part, correct?"
"No, I did not"
"…Haha, right, I bet it's like an insult to you when I put your efficiency into question in missions like these, right? My apologies then!"
"…" I didn't bite the bait the first time, and neither I will now.
Something Temperance understood right away "While it is a shame for those poor souls that fell into collateral damage, the demise of Morales and the satisfaction the International Oil Association will get out of this will make do. To a greater extent if that extra objective was done too. Hearing about Morales's generosity to sign the agreement in his last moments will make them happy…and grateful enough to make their donations extra bountiful, don't you agree?"
I prevented myself from leaking any sarcasm as I rolled my eyes "…Yes, our society will make good use of it"
The approving nod on the other end of the line was almost visible "It will, our dark-winged champion, It will. Be that as it may, there will be other time to thrive in this new act of charity you have done for those who need it the most…" Ten years and I still couldn't help but think how irksome is hearing them when they say crap like that "…For now, once you are done with any pending arrangement, we need you to take a flight back to Japan"
The implications of that quickly dawned on me "I take it I will report back to our headquarters, then?"
"Yes, you will. The thing is, a certainly interesting group has taken interest in what 'The Raven' is capable of"
…
"…So, the usual, isn't it?" I mean, besides contracts, what other reason does someone contact the Holy Salvation Society while asking for one of its members?
"…" I wasn't liking that silence, at all. Even less when the first sound he made afterward was a chuckle "…I wouldn't put it that way. While it is true that they are eager for your Talent, the reasons they have for such desire is, well…you will understand once you return home. Having said that, I wish you safe travels…Shigaraki" Was the last thing I heard before the line was cut off.
…
…
…Sigh.
He did that last part on purpose, didn't he? And if that wasn't enough, there is everything he said before that.
Saying that I have a bad feeling about this would be the understatement of all understatements. If that hasty call commanding me back to Japan after three years of doing mission after mission wasn't a bad omen enough, the mention of these people that apparently have an interest in me, an Assassin, for reasons besides what I've been doing for years does nothing but multiply the warning bells ringing inside my head.
Worst of all, even with those facts taken into consideration…I know I have no choice but to comply with the order.
Just like I have always done.
Yokohama, Kanagawa. Holy Salvation Society Headquarters…
Before me stood a church of gothic architecture. Occupying half a block, the four-stories building had even taller and imposing spires standing guard in each corner of the oval-shaped dome the roof was made of. While a remarkable sight, it was very far away from its most breathtaking equivalents around the world. So, although a bit above average for other holy residences, it was still within the parameters of what one could expect of a church.
It goes without saying that this was intentional. After all, hiding in plain sight is the way to go more often than not.
Still…
"…I'm home, huh?" I couldn't sound more affectionless even if I tried to.
Shaking those thoughts away, I stepped inside.
Again, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary within the insides of the cathedral. The first sight that greeted me were the rows upon rows of pews that were lined on each side of the nave, with pairs of pillars separating them every so often until reaching the pulpit.
While there wasn't any priest giving a sermon right at this moment, that didn't prevent this place from having visitors here and there on their knees giving their respective prayers. And yes, weird as it might appear, these were just regular Christian believers. After all, if the Salvation Society is already selling the image, might as well sell the act using another religion to further cover its tracks.
Leaving the introspection aside, I moved to the right side of the church and then walked ahead, past the altar where a double door greeted me. Past the double door, I found a confessional chamber, large enough to host a dozen of booths on each side of the room.
Not being picky about it, I slid the door of the first one, closed it back once inside, and then sat on the chair it had on its rear.
As soon as I took a seat, a serene male voice spoke up "What do you wish to confess, child?"
Even if they tasted like sand, the words came out of my mouth almost on automatic "I am here to confess…that our society is in danger, and it is my holy duty to guide it from the shadows until it reaches salvation"
The moment the priest heard those words, the wooden wall on my right moved aside to reveal a secret passage that led to a spiral staircase that went down "May your blade stay warm with the blood of those who oppose the salvation of our civilization"
I didn't even nodded at his words, though I admit that as I walked down the stairs I couldn't help but wonder, not for the first time and neither the last, how could they preach stuff like that with a straight face.
After descending for a pair of minutes with the occasional torch preventing me from walking in total darkness, I found myself yet again with a pair of doors, only these were doubled, almost tripled in size.
Despite appearances, though, they weren't that heavy and were mostly this way for impression's sake. Not interested in wasting any time, I pushed one side while ignoring the creaky sound it made.
The sight that greeted me was the gathering point of most members.
The guild.
Besides getting personally hired by a client, or being assigned by the Holy Salvation Society, one has to take into consideration that you don't begin a career as an Assassin with those two options at your disposal, and neither does every client can afford a personalized contract, or being put into consideration by the very top of the administration of the organization themselves.
This place takes care of that problem.
Just a few meters ahead to my left, what appeared like multiple office workers, stood behind a large counter desk with just as many computers required for each individual. These people are in charge of collaborating with my 'colleagues' in the assignation of missions, going through the organization's database of clients who have asked for a service and are in wait for a response.
While such is the main purpose of this place, the guild also works as a mess hall. Further ahead of the guild workers, there was a restaurant of sorts, with a door just behind which no doubt leads to the kitchen. There, any member of the Salvation Society could ask the bartender in charge for whatever drink or food you desired, as long as you had the money for it, of course.
The black silk banners surrounded in a red frame with a gothic white cross as an icon, the oil lamps giving light to this catacomb-like room, the wood furniture, the fireplace in a corner, and if you ignore the modern attire of the workers and the computers. With all of that combined, it was like walking straight into one of those medieval settings you hear in books and other media.
Though none of that prevented me from noticing how death silent everyone was.
Extrovert is not a word you would use to describe your average member of the Salvation Society. Here and there you might find someone with a trait in their personality that makes them stand out, but most fall into the category of introverts, outcasts, lone wolves, sociopaths, and any other term that tells you that being loud is not something you could expect from them.
Even with that into consideration, there was even more silence than what you would expect of people like these.
It seems my entrance didn't go unnoticed, the pairs of eyes coming in dozens gazing in my direction tells me that much, more so when most of them have a flash of recognition.
Ranging between children of eight years old up to young adults in their late twenties 'This is not a profession where you get past that when you begin it so young, no matter how good you are at it…', their orbs showed a variety of slight surprise and wariness, not fear, though. Even the greenest of them has already been trained to keep their psyche in control.
Although despite that, the tension they were leaking as they followed my every step was poorly hidden.
The problems of having a reputation among my 'peers', I suppose.
Being known is never a good thing for an Assassin. When it comes to clients, at least I have the assurance that they only know of me by my code-name, though the same can't be said about the people sitting in this room.
I don't hold any illusion that none of them would attack me if I were to let my guard down 'It wouldn't be the first time, that's for sure'. At the end of the day, every single one of us is a cold-blooded murderer trained to take any advantage at our disposal, whether we only apply it for our jobs or not, and how despicable we are willing to act depends on the individual.
We may have grown under the same organization, and we might work and made money for the same people…but that doesn't make us brothers-in-arms, or allies, and no one of us are friends. Even if some are seated at the same tables, they were doing so either because they had nowhere else to do so or because their company was of someone they could tolerate.
Speaking of which.
"Ah, Raven, you're back" A female, though monotone, voice called me out.
Shifting my head in the direction of the sound, I saw a pale woman with blue eyes hidden behind red glasses and blonde hair made up in a double braid style. Slightly shorter and slimmer than me, her upper attire consisted of a red poncho with a hood from which two-pointed cat ears stood up, meanwhile, the lower part of her outfit consisted of a white skirt, thigh-high white socks, and knee-high red boots.
All in all, she stood out like a sore thumb among the gloom and dark colors most members wore.
Copycat.
As her code-name implies, she's an Assassin specialized in the replication of murders. Her methodology consists on the research and investigation of serial killers operating wherever a contract calls her, looking out for their behavioral patterns in the murders they commit so she becomes capable of copying them to a near, if not perfect degree, cleaning her of all suspicion 'Yeah, even with that outfit making her stand out…'. Suffice it to say, perceptive and clever are words one should use to describe her, double so when taking into consideration that, besides the incident back in Meyura Station a few years ago, her records are good enough to put her just behind me and Maki.
Not like that makes her less tiring to deal with.
"Good timing, you are just in time to―"
"I'm busy" Having no desire of engaging in her antics, I just gave her a quick response and prepared myself to part ways.
"Um, but it's important…kind of" Can't say that stopped her, seeing that she began to follow me.
I didn't say anything for a few moments as we passed through the guild. Once we reached past the exit leading to the labyrinth our organization takes as the base of operations, I replied "It doesn't matter, I have more important things to do" Like a gathering with our absolute leaders, for example.
"Even if it's about Demon Princess?" The blue-eyed girl commented nonchalantly.
That made me quickly stop dead in my tracks and turn to her, not with a glare, but I gave her a warning look.
"What is it?" The two of us aren't friends, but in all our years during our career never has she tried to kill me or plot against me, not even once, which is much more than what I could say about most other members.
Besides that, even if she's from another orphanage, Copycat comes from the same generation of Assassins as me and Maki, that is to say, she understands that bringing topics about her in front of me 'Especially after that incident', is not something she or anyone else should trifle with.
That's the only reason I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt.
"Well, if you must know, she was here just this morning" Was her stoic response.
…This…morning?
I didn't allow Copycat to see anything beyond pure neutrality as I addressed her "I see, anything else?"
As if she had to think about it, the blue-eyed girl put her index finger on her chin and tilted her head left and right "Hmmm, well, she had that look as if everyone around her was nothing but trash" Not a murderous glare? It's good to know she was in a good mood "And after talking with one of the guild workers, she left"
So, she just did the usual? Grab a quick mission and either complete it as soon as possible or do it later after taking care of the orphanage. That's…alright, I guess…
If I am honest, I don't know how to feel about the fact that if my airplane had taken flight just a few hours earlier, I would've probably met her face to face.
I don't think I'm ready for something like that to happen.
Will I ever be?
Mentally shaking those thoughts out of my head, I turned to Copycat and gave her a nod before turning to leave and―
"Wait, I need you to answer me something. It's only fair considering the favor I did for you, isn't it?" ―And here it is.
I knew she wouldn't have told me information like that for free, though I admit I held onto the hope of having the luck of her forgetting about it. So much for that, huh?
It can't be helped; I already began the transaction "…*sigh* Fine, but be quick about it, I wasn't lying about being busy"
"Okaaay. So, Raven…" The almost bored-with-life expression of Copycat turned deathly serious. Any lesser man would've faltered or straight up began to sob like a baby under the pressure that such gaze was trying to force on me 'I can't deny that it made me feel slightly flattered'. Even if it felt like an eternity, the blue-eyed girl finally made the rest of her sentence known to me "…Have you watched the last season of Offensive on Giant?"
"No"
"Any season at all?"
"No"
I talked about some Assassin having quirky traits, didn't I? Well, that's Copycat's: She's a die-hard fan of anime and manga. Besides that, she's also very well known for pestering people about topics regarding her hobby, whether you like it or not.
"I see, then what about That Time I Got Reincarnated as A Goblin?" Just like she's doing right at this moment.
"No"
"…Not even Two Fragments?"
"No"
"…"
"…"
"…Whoa, you are as tightly scheduled as ever, aren't you?" I would say that for a professional Assassin, she has way too much free time to be as obsessive as she is about this "Not having time to watch such great works, I pity your miserable existence…"
Yeah, poor me "It is what it is. Now that I already indulged you, can I go now?"
"Mhm, go have fun doing whatever it is you were about to do, or not, I don't care. I will see if anyone else is interested in talking about how great it was seeing Aren die, only for the twist revealing that all this time he was also a Giant to happen and―"
"Sure, you do that" I have never stayed enough to see how long she would keep going on her ramblings, but I've seen the faces of those who have.
I almost pity whoever is going to be her new victim.
Almost.
I previously stated that the Headquarters of the Holy Salvation Society is like a maze. Well, I wasn't being metaphorical about it.
Hundreds of halls and corridors from which you could easily get lost if you didn't know where you needed to go. Some leading to dead ends, others onto the meat and bone of what puts the Salvation Society apart from any other organization working in the same area.
As I walked through the passages, I could feel the temperature rise while hearing the sounds of metal hitting metal coming from the foundries in charge of the equipment I and any other member use. I didn't do more than give it a glance at the entrance leading to the forgery, though. After all, my destination was elsewhere.
Moments later, the heat and noise morphed into freezing silence, telling me that I was close to the archives. A gallery of information compiling missions accomplished by our members, making it a treasure of intel and secrets that only the archives found in the Detective Library could rival if the rumors about our 'counterpart' are anything to go by.
Much to my misfortune, this was neither the location.
For almost half an hour I continued advancing through this claustrophobic nightmare, descending further and further that if I didn't knew any better and ignored that the halls were growing colder, I would've thought I was descending into hell itself.
Every new floor meant also a new facility with functions different than what I could find in previous rooms. Some were training chambers, either to build up your body or to practice with tools befitting of an Assassin. There were also the barracks, working mostly for the newest members and those who were still…trainees.
The fact that I couldn't hear the screams of children younger than the ones found in the guild, means either I missed the training of the new batch or it is yet to happen.
I don't know which one is a grimmer thought.
In the end, my patience was 'rewarded' when I reached a dead end in what anyone would think is a random hall.
It wasn't.
Getting into a reaching distance of the bricks that made up the wall in front of me, I began to push them in a specific order, beginning with a three-brick column on the left side of the stone barrier, the same for the right one, while repeating the process up and down. Following that, I intersected them until forming the closest resemblance to a gothic cross you could make in such space.
The moment I pushed the final brick, the wall began to tremble, releasing dust and dirt. A few seconds of doing that, and what greeted me afterward was the blockade sliding until a set of stairs no different than the ones back on the surface.
As I walked down the stairs, I couldn't prevent the grimacing from forming on my face.
While descending into the guild I was greeted first and foremost with nothing but doors, big ones, but door nonetheless. Things changed a bit here. Oh, there was a door, and twice as big no less, but before noticing that, the nearest sight was that of the people guarding said entrance.
Throughout the hallway, four individuals stood on each side. Males on the left, and females on the right, with a single one of each just beside the door. Their gear began with a black hooded bodysuit with long sleeves, reinforced with pads on the shoulders, elbows, and knees. Black boots with iron soles along with black gloves also reinforced on the knuckles.
The only part of their equipment with anything besides black was the mask each one of the wore, as while the material made of was too of a dark palette, the stylized white cross in the middle of it, along with the orifices for their eyes made it a notorious discrepancy.
Night Sentinels.
The closest this place has to security staff 'Or a royal guard, depending on whom you ask…'. While most of us understand the farse the Holy Salvation Society is as a religion… there are always those who succumbed to the honeyed words parted onto us.
Once that happens, such individuals fall into a spiral of gaslighting and propaganda that goes deeper and deeper until they finally turn into the brainwashed husks of their former selves, the ideal way our leaders would love all of us were.
Poor bastards.
"You! Who are you!?" The loud voice from one of the Night Sentinels just beside the door interrupted my musings.
Ignoring the glares I could feel even with their masks, I identified myself "Generation 87-001, Codename: The Raven. Temperance has requested my presence, I'm sure he or any other of our leaders have told you as much"
That made some tension leave their bodies, even if only for a fraction. The same sentinel shared a look with his female counterpart before nodding "Yes, we were informed of such a meeting…but before letting you in, you have to show us your mark!"
…
…They have gotten more meticulous since I last set foot here, it seems. I guess it's understandable to fear the possibility of an impostor and to prepare security measures against it.
Although that doesn't make me feel any better about what I'm about to do.
Wanting to get done with this fast, I immediately took off my jacket… followed by my shirt. Thankfully, these people are so far gone for me to feel self-conscious about being half naked in their presence.
Then, I turned until giving them a clear sight of my back…though I was looking behind me to keep my sight on them. Just because they work for my higher-ups doesn't mean I will trust them…actually, it is because they work for them that I trust them even less that the average member.
The only silver lining of this is that they were done confirming that I was indeed me in just a pair of seconds.
"Alright, everything is in order. You will be granted the honor of gazing upon our virtuous leader's glory!" Ugh.
Quickly readjusting my attire while they opened what could already count as a gate, I began to move past them when it was fully open.
Even greater than other communion rooms hidden around this underground facility, what greeted me inside no doubt is the largest room within the headquarter, the very heart of the Holy Salvation Society. Not only was large, but it reached high enough that the light the torches provided wasn't enough to reach the ceiling.
The red and soft carpet that muffled my steps, the combination of black with gold lines that painted the walls, the titanic pillars coming in pairs on a straight line until the very end of the room with a banner of the organization in every space those same pillars allowed, the dozens of Night Sentinels circling the room and watching my every step with critical eyes.
The message was clear: This place should be regarded as both holy and royal.
Or at least that's what they would wish I think.
Be that as it may, the cherry on top of this cake was what I could see a few meters ahead of me.
In the very middle of the front wall, I was welcomed with the sigh of three paints, large enough to look imposing.
On the left, was a perfect representation of the church above they use as a cover. 'The holy house of the lord…'
On the right, an androgynous-looking angel with its eyes closed, accompanied by a serene smile, all the while, it had its arms extended as if to welcoming me. 'Or offering salvation...'
And finally, the last picture was of a bunch of people, conforming of all races and colors, looking at a bright horizon. 'Simple, but it does its job at representing society'
There's doubt that all three of them are beautifully crafted…
…Such a shame the closest feeling I had about them was revulsion.
"Ah, Raven! You finally made an act of presence, we were waiting for you" The same, though more jovial than calm this time, voice from that last call was heard.
Moving my gaze beneath the paints, I could see three thrones perfectly lined up with each piece of art above a podium. Under each throne, an individual took a seat.
Beneath the church, there was a plump male figure. Besides that, and those expensive-looking rings covering each of his sausage-like fingers, I couldn't tell more of this appearance. This is because of his attire consisting of a white hooded robe, along with the pure white mask covering his identity besides those brown eyes looking at me with contempt.
Modesty, the man in charge of Client Operations.
Just opposite of him, with the same attire as Modesty though with even more jewelry covering her, a healthily slender woman of large blonde hair, whose azure eyes examined me, not as a person, but as an exotic animal whose head she can proudly exhibit as a trophy of her own merit.
Liberality, in charge of the orphanage's logistics and recruitment.
At a slow pace, my eyes flickered to the individual sitting on the central throne.
While also wearing the same clothes as the previous two, this person had two clear differences. First, his hood was down, exhibiting his fringed-up silky black hair for everyone to see, meanwhile, the second divergence was…that he wasn't wearing a mask.
Backed up with a healthy body in his late thirties, which shows clear signs of working up regularly, along with the sharp features of his face, such exposition is a clear power play of both confidence and to put himself above his peers.
Temperance, Executive of Administrative Affairs.
Besides the previously mentioned traits, the most noticeable thing about him was his eyes, more specifically, the way those emerald orbs were observing me.
At first glance, it might appear that unlike those having a seat beside him, he didn't hold any antagonistic feelings towards me, if anything, the placid smile in combination with the gleam on his eyes, almost made him appear as if he was looking at me with paternal warmth.
The only reason my stomach wasn't churning with disgust 'Only annoyance', was because I knew the true meaning behind those looks he was giving me.
Just like Liberality, he wasn't looking at me as a person, though instead of getting comfortable with just a trophy of no use, the sight in front of him was that of a machine he built from the scratch, like a melody he spent restless nights of tears and sweat to perfectionate.
Like that of a magnum opus he will never be able to recreate ever again.
No matter with which one of them I locked eyes, the three of them without exception, saw me as nothing but a tool.
"Modesty, Liberality, Temperance…I am here" Though it's not like they are wrong about that.
Unsurprisingly, Modesty was the first one to raise his voice "Hmph, yes we can see that, though we expected you to be here sooner…heh, perhaps you are getting rusty?"
Liberality piped in with a chirpy voice "Hmm, that would be no good! There are marvelous people out there, waiting for our adorable corvid to fly high and bless them with his presence!"
Temperance just chuckled heartily at that.
Before they began to get side-tracked, I opted to get straight to the point "I was told to return to Japan, but the details of why were left unclear. Can I get said reason now?"
Even with their masks, I could feel the annoyance coming from both Liberality and Modesty.
"Haha, never beating around the bush are you, Raven?" Not like Temperance cared "Geez if only everyone was as hard-working as you. Anyways, I promised you some answers, and some answers you will get! I hope you are as excited as I am about this!" That didn't encouraged me at all, it only did the opposite.
Though regardless of what I was making out of this, Temperance did a signaling motion and one of the nearest Night Sentinels began to approach.
To say that didn't make my body ready itself for combat or to avoid any incoming attack would be a lie 'I've done the same for much less…'. Despite that, I waited until he made the first move.
Once the sentinel gained enough distance between me, he offered me…a letter.
I threw a side glance towards the higher-ups as I picked up said letter. Besides Temperance's features hidden in a mask of false innocence, those masks the other two wear make it hard to gauge their expressions…though that didn't impeded me from observing those half-closed eyes reflecting what appeared amusement at my person.
More red flags…
Seeing that I wasn't going to get anything out of them, I chose to focus on the letter instead.
I couldn't prevent the slight widening of my eyes at the first detail that caught my attention in this envelope.
Hope's Peak Academy Steering Committee. That's what was written in the corner of the paper.
…
…
…What?
Hope's…Peak?
I know who they are, heck, I highly doubt there's anyone on the planet who doesn't know about that school. An academy whose focus consists in the search of talented people from wherever they can find them, then recruit said talent into their ranks and shape them into members who will act as pillars of our society...our actual society.
Regardless of that…if this letter is for me…
…Does that mean they want me to assassinate someone?
While this is the first time I've heard of a contract from them, I wouldn't be that surprised if such was the case. They might go around preaching about how much good they do towards humanity, forging the new generations of leaders in every field you could think of, but…there's this something about them that prevents me from thinking as these grand saviors everyone thinks of them as.
Must be the resemblance Hope's Peak has to the Holy Salvation Society in their methodology…
Either way, a contract is a contract. It might be old-fashioned to make use of a letter, but this Steering Committee sounds like the type.
Not wasting any more time, I broke the seal of the enveloped and picked up the letter.
I sure as hell wasn't expecting what I ended up reading.
[Greetings,
It is through this letter that Hope's Peak Board of Trustees, the highest authority within the academy, desires to grant the privilege that is becoming a student of our institution to Shizuka Shigaraki.
While yours is a special case where normal circumstances would make you unable to attend our academy, the achievements that precede you have earned our interest.
Such is the case that we have taken the liberty of making you an exception, overruling the usual pre-requisites an aspirant should usually fulfill in favor of making you, along with other 1# Students, a member of the %$th class under the title of the Ultimate Assassin.
After all, our school prides itself in selecting the most talented and gifted individuals of each generation, indiscriminately in which field they participate. With you complying with such standards with flying colors, we have deemed it inappropriate for you to miss an opportunity such as this one.
The preliminary talks with your superiors have already been made, rest assured that Hope's Peak Academy has guaranteed that should you accept the honor this admittance letter provides, you will not face the repercussions this turn of events usually causes to members of the organization you are part of. Additionally, a confidentially agreement will be made for all students and staff within the academy in which it will, under any circumstances, be forbidden to reveal your existence or talent outside the academy.
On April 7th of 2014, Hope's Peak will hold this year's entrance ceremony. Further instructions on how to proceed will be given by our staff inside the academy.
With an ending note, we would like to congratulate you for standing out even among your peers, both those within your organization and the ones you will be hopefully calling classmates in the future.
Looking forward to having you within our halls,
Hisashi Okamoto,
Head of Hope's Peak Human Resources & Research Staff.]
…
…
…
…Wrong.
There were so many wrong things with this letter.
Before my mind became a swirl of confusion, I decided to ask about the most urgent matter I could find inside this…whatever this is.
"How do they know my name?" I couldn't help the almost demanding tone with which I asked that question. These people not only know how I am named, but they also have it correlated with my career as an Assassin.
These people are the first ones to know of my true identity outside the Salvation Society. The repercussions this could cause me '…Or Maki' are not minor.
It wasn't like any of them cared, though "Watch your tongue, brat! I would've thought you knew your place by now. You are to comply as we order you, not to make questions!"
Liberality gave an enthusiastic nod before turning to me "Besides, more important than that…Hope's Peak! This will mark the beginning of your, albeit a little biiiit late, school life! And on such a big note, aren't you excited about it!?"
School life?
Excited?
What…what the hell are they talking about? Me attending a school as worldwide famous as Hope's Peak? The last thing I or any other member of the Holy Salvation Society should do is be part of such a lifestyle. It's just simply a world we don't belong to.
Maki found that the hard way…
Knowing that it was futile to even attempt with Modesty or Liberality, I flickered my gaze towards Temperance "Sir, surely you understand that me attending any school could lead to disastrous consequences…" He should know, it was he who ordered That incident to happen "…Me attending Hope's peak of all places would expose me and our society to such level that―"
"Ah, that won't be a problem! I'm sure that letter you have there, talks about how cautious they will be about this too" Temperance waved off my concerns as he did that chuckle of this "I understand your cautiousness, I seriously do. I too had my apprehensiveness about this, but after talking it through with the leadership of that academy, we have concluded that this was an opportunity we couldn't miss!"
…Dammit.
It was naïve of me to believe that this didn't already had his seal of approval, more so with the contents of the letter. While it asks me to accept the proposal, the subtle implications that they already think of me as part of their school are already there.
Just how much money was offered to these greedy bastards? Could it be that there is more than that in this…?
"…Are you sure it is fine to trust―"
Before I had the chance of arguing more about this, Modesty spoke again "Tch, that tongue of yours is more talkative than usual, huh? What a hassle…Hehe, hey Liberality, don't you feel like you have been dealing with too many operations as of late?"
! ! !
That fucking pig…!
Liberality's eyes flickered towards her counterpart "…Hmm, now that you mention it…perhaps it is time we get rid of one or two recruitment centers, it's not like they would make a difference with how little we recruit every three or four years. Do you have any on mind?"
"Well, I was thinking―"
"I will do it; I will attend Hope's Peak Academy" It took all my will to not show how livid what they were saying was making me. I am well aware that the outcome of putting more protests about this will only lead to consequences I will regret.
If I comply with this, they will leave Maki in peace. This is the same as back then, just follow their orders, and they will leave her alone…
Under the smugness radiating from his two companions, Temperance addressed me "Marvelous! I'm glad to see you are on board about this as much as we are, Raven! It would've been problematic for us if that wasn't the case, you know?"
I didn't say anything to that.
"I admit it is a bit of a shame that this new lifestyle will most surely reduce the time you spend doing holy deeds around the world, but I believe that you becoming a fundamental piece in the creation of absolute Hope will make it worth it!"
Just as it always has been, I didn't find any comfort in those joyful words that came out of his mouth.
"In any case, seeing that we all got a satisfactory outcome out of this, I believe we are done here. You are free to leave, Raven"
Glad to leave this snake's pit, I nodded before quickly turning on my heels.
Once I was finally far away from the higher-ups and the Night Sentinels, I allowed myself to sigh in exasperation.
…Too unreasonable.
These people can be a total pain in the ass when they set their minds into it, and irrational too.
Seriously, after years of grinding into my head how valuable is it to keep secrecy…only to command me to attend the place where every student is basically a celebrity? The letter might say that they will take measures for that to not be a problem, but if I were that much of a fool to find comfort in that, then might as well I should begin to ready my Night Sentinel uniform.
Unfortunately, I know that bringing that up was a sure way to get into trouble. I'm aware that I was crossing a thin line with how much I presented my doubts about the actual brilliance of me attending a school with that much exposure.
Speaking of.
Hope's Peak, huh?
The fact that they want an Assassin of all people walking in their precious corridors tells quite a lot about them, even more so if they had to break a few of their own rules to make that a reality.
…
…
…
…There are still a few weeks left before the day of attendance, isn't there? Seeing that they went through the trouble of investigating me, perhaps I should do the same. I mean, just today I discovered that their number one figure isn't the headmaster, I suspect there are quite a few more things to discover about my new school.
Nodding to myself about this new course of action, I took the archives as my new destination. I might not remember seeing anything about Hope's Peak dealing with Assassins in the past, but it doesn't hurt double check.
If my search here doesn't produce any results, looking outside the Salvation Society headquarters is still an option.
The last thing I want is to go to this 'Academy of Hope' getting caught off-guard by any surprise they might want to throw at me.