A/N: It's been awhile since I wrote something like this! While I have Rumbling under Oslo for a side project, I hadn't written a multi-chapter deal like this with my 'main characters' since Irregular Mission over a year ago. Most of my pieces have been one-shots, even if they're part of a series.

In any case, after watching a couple of things, I was inspired to do a story of the whole "The Hunter of a Hunter" type thing, where Duo Lon takes on a job that's a little different than usual, and how the whole thing affects him.

If you like mystery, horror, serial killers and other such things…well I hope this material is like, at least somewhat entertaining!

This fic does contain some nasty things, given its subject matter, as well as some headcanons involved, which I'll explain in notes at the end. I try to keep somewhat pseudocanonical with my writing, but like any fic, adjustments need to be made sometimes. I'll point those out.

I should also use this part to touch on the floating timeline aspect of KOF. We know how the timeline doesn't really move forward; I try to age characters about one year per arc(so someone entering in the Orochi Saga would be two years older in Ash Saga), but I also try to eyeball the years the tournaments took part in to keep the general 'feel' of the games' time periods. Thus, given this story takes place around the 2003 tournament(a bit after), there will be references to technology and things that were big in those days. Thus, cell phones were more early 2000s, smartphones weren't a thing, portable CD players were still used, pay phones still existed, computers were of the times, and so on. Also, there were things like how smoking wasn't completely banned indoors yet around the world that I try to keep going. Essentially, I sort of try to match the technology levels of the games to keep the 'feel' of them intact.

While the first chapter is tame, later chapters will likely contain nastier violence and some more sensitive topics, so the rating may go up.

Btw, the thumbnail for this story was drawn by the lovely ManaChan! Go check out her stuff!

Anyway! Without further ado…

Safehouse Apartment, Metropolis, 200X

The folders and files were spread across the full-size bed's gray comforter, along with a notebook and pen.

Picking up some of the notes and files, Duo Lon pored over them in the dim light as he sat cross-legged on the bed of the small apartment that he had procured for his job. Dressed only in his trousers, his hair was taken down from its braid for now, done up in the loose double-tail as he would when he was relaxing. He had long since unpacked, his suitcase shoved into the closet and his everyday clothing in the dull wooden dresser. The qipao he had worn earlier in the day was slung over the threadbare easy chair in the corner of the bedroom, his boots and socks placed by the front door. His bracelets-the heavy stone ones that he usually wore with his nicer coat-were on the dresser itself. His burner phone was on the nightstand, snapped shut…one of several that he had used since he started to utilize them. Very, very few people had his actual contact information. He had only recently gotten his own cell phone, in fact. His clan was somewhat old-fashioned, but did, of course, try to keep with technology. He had learned how to use a computer for research, but still often preferred the old ways. If you didn't stay up to date in his profession, you wouldn't get far…but at the same time, relying too heavily on new technology could hamstring yourself as well.

The young man had arrived about four days ago. Getting over his jetlag extremely quickly as he would, he had gotten in touch with his underworld contact for the job, and was then set up with his safehouse, which, as far as they went, was actually rather nice. A little run down, but insulated, clean, and in good repair, though the carpet and furniture were from at least a decade and a half ago, if he had to guess. Not that he much cared for design; he liked simple, dark and solid colors.

Glancing over at the open window for a moment just to see if the rain was blowing in, his eyes scanned the room. Getting places like these were not difficult; huge cities often had a wealth of empty apartments that one just needed to grease the right palms under the table to rent. Safehouses were commonplace in the underworld, and while Duo Lon could present himself as near royalty when he wanted, he knew he was one who lived in said underworld, always in the shadows.

He had his preferences for safehouses in cities. In the rural or wilderness areas, he'd take any cabin, shelter, or even a tent-it didn't matter to him, he could live wherever he needed. He had slept in trees, waiting for the right time to strike a target.

In cities, though, it was a different case and one wanted to choose them more carefully. He liked them to be high up, in slightly run down but still functional areas whose power and water were constant, and now, whose cell phone towers were somewhat reliable…though he would also use good old-fashioned pay phones as well. If the building was old and had no elevator, all the better; he could fly up the stairs quickly, often leaping upward sometimes, and he knew that typical people did not like to take stairs fifteen stories up, so he'd likely go unnoticed when he'd have to appear back. Few people chose to live on the higher floors of such buildings.

He'd sometimes have to clean a substantial amount of blood off of himself, and he much preferred not having to take out witnesses.

As for why he was in a safehouse for this-not knowing who exactly his employer was, he knew he would have to investigate down low. He didn't fear authorities at all, but they could end up messing things up a lot more if they caught onto him.

Of course, he did humor the thought that his benefactor may well be one of the authorities or someone in charge of something somewhere, but that didn't matter to him. Authorities getting involved could screw up the investigation, and if things went too far, cause more bodies to pile up.

Theirs, if they discovered too much about his clan's secrets-it was edict to never turn on a client or renege a contract unless they did so first or lied, but if they dug too far and discovered secrets, all bets were off. This, in turn, could lead to other issues, potentially messing up the entire job.

Quite the mess, really.

The apartment was kept spartan. It was a two-room with a kitchenette and bathroom, with the other room being used as the bedroom. The bedroom had a bed, nightstand, a small dresser and even a closet where his nicer clothes were hung-his trademark, richly embroidered longcoat, nicer shirt and slacks were all in there. The living area had a sofa and an old chair with a coffee table, and it did actually have a television set; nowhere near a modern model, but something that he was able to at least check a few news channels with to see what they were lying about that night. He had brought a few books with him, as well as anything he would have to write down-what he didn't keep in his head, of course. He had also brought his portable CD player, headphones, and several of his favorite CDs. Years ago, while on a trip to a larger city as a teenager, he had discovered an underground music store with an array of strange heavy metal albums, and he found an affinity toward the bleak sound and shrieking vocals of raw, harsh and underproduced black metal. It had helped him focus his young mind on shutting out the screaming spirits of the underworld, especially after his incident. He almost preferred the sound of vinyl-more old fashioned-but he regrettably did not have his stereo here.

As for the rest of the place, the bathroom was actually sort of large for the apartment's size, and the kitchenette was enough for him to make whatever he needed, though he usually would just grab take-away during visits like these, mostly from discreet, side-alley places. He had somewhat stocked the fridge and cupboards with a few staples and things he liked-rice, rice flour, scallion, eggs, a few condiments, some meat in the freezer, and plenty of pre-packaged frozen foods that he had grabbed from a few corner stores around, even stopping by the Chinatown area so he could have a bit of a taste of home. He could eat anything, but even he once in awhile liked to have a taste of his comfort foods. There were a few more things he planned on getting after going out for dinner tonight.

Considering lighting his pipe, he glanced over a few of the case files that had somehow been procured for him about the killer's last victim. He had read through them, but was revisiting them now to see if anything stood out. Rubbing his neck, he traced his hand down to his tattooed arm, fingering one of the old scars there for a moment as he heard the rain patter lightly against the window sill.

Duo Lon had never taken a job that involved hunting down a target he was unaware of before…but he somehow decided that he had wanted this one.

The last time this particular victim-a male sophomore in college-had been seen, he was at the big public library. One of the victim's friends had said that they had gone to study after class, and as usual, the fellow went off to the game room, where various board games-chess, checkers, Go, and the like-were all located. That was the last time the friend had seen him.

None of the other witnesses had really noticed the young man or anything else, if he had come or went. The security guard at the library had taken no particular notice; they had likely simply not been at all suspicious, and people come and leave with different people all the time.

The police likely had some CCTV footage that could perhaps point somewhere, but his benefactor was not able to procure them. If he could, there was a secure drop spot that he would use to drop it off, if there was anything even on it. Duo Lon had almost considered breaking into the station himself to find them, but he would try other avenues first.

The assassin was pleased, however, that the amount of notes that his client managed to procure were fairly excessive. It managed to at least give a basic write-up of all of the victims, which made it so he'd be able to at least start to piece together a pattern where he could locate the killer.

Adjusting the large pillows on the bed to sit back, adjusting the lamp so it was a bit brighter, he grabbed the first case notes instead and began to read them more in earnest.

The very first victim-a college freshman-was found in a warehouse at a loading dock on the East end. Stuffed into one of the shipping containers, a dockworker had come across them from a smell. They had only been there for a couple of days, but it was enough. There was an incredibly small amount of evidence around, telling authorities whoever had put the body there was knowledgeable about certain things.

Medical things, Duo Lon thought to himself. Whoever the killer is, they are familiar with medicine. He could tell immediately when he had seen some of the substances detected on the body. This didn't, of course, instantly narrow it down-it could be a doctor, nurse, medical assistant, pharmacist, med student…or even just someone who was intelligent, with an interest in the topic and a way to score some substances.

It was at least something to go on, at least.

The body itself had a lot of stab wounds and signs of torture beforehand. At this point in time, the police had chalked it up to some sort of deal gone wrong and an attempt to clean things up; no other bodies had been found. This had happened in the late spring, and they had gone about their business trying to solve it. Duo Lon had his doubts, however-some of the markings that were described seemed almost ritualistic or something, unless it was syndicate related. And given the other evidence, that was unlikely at the moment. He couldn't be positive, of course, but he was going to look into more anyway.

Checking the next set of notes, victim number two-a high school senior-was found on the outskirts of the city about a week later. At first, they hadn't connected the two due to how far apart they were found in terms of distance, and they had barely been able to track the second's last known spot. The best they got was getting something at a store somewhat near the high school. He had not been disliked-on the contrary, and no one could figure out any enemies that he had. The markings were somewhat similar on him, which is what caused them extra suspicion that the two were connected…but couldn't figure out exactly how yet.

Reaching for his pipe and taking the dark blue, heavy glass ashtray out of the nightstand drawer-it hadn't been used yet, even-he started to pack the long, black lacquered thing as he continued to read.

He read how they had noticed the young men didn't know each other, but there was something in common-they enjoyed strategy games as a hobby.

Lighting the pipe, this part intrigued the assassin as his eyes continued to scan the paper, taking a puff as the cool breeze blew some of the smoke around. The rain began to pick up, though it did not risk blowing inside yet.

Duo Lon enjoyed strategy games himself-Mahjong was his favorite, though he also enjoyed Go, Shogi, and even chess from time to time. He'd play Mahjong anytime he could at a bar, and even he and Shen would play sometimes. He'd win far more often, but Shen was surprisingly good at the game and would even take some games off of him from time to time, having also played since his youth.

His mind wandered again-perhaps he was getting used to taking a strange job-he looked over that part again.

Targeting people who happened to like strategy games could certainly be a strange MO, if this was the case. Would it be for some strange, unknown reason? Or did the killer hate to lose, and perhaps have a horrible temper, or perhaps liked to gamble and ended up losing money? Given the bodies were less battered and more killed with stab wounds, they did not sound like fits of rage, but without seeing more evidence, he couldn't be certain.

It was something more to go on, at least.

As he combed through the notes, most of them indeed had those things in common. While a couple of the people had unknown likes, the others did all seem to be last seen around some area where one might find games of that sort. There were eight victims so far in total, and they had started to appear closer and closer together. They were always found with wounds from a sharp object, other grisly signs of torture, and usually in areas like warehouses, in dumpsters on the outskirts of town, and the like. The killer seemed to cover a rather wide area, and a glance at the map told Duo Lon they were starting to spread out more.

He suspected this was why they had decided to track him down to hire him.

Normally, the young man did not think too much about who hired him, but this time he was curious. His price was met-and it even included travel and a bonus that he used to procure the safehouse-with no arguments. He had a feeling he was likely working for some sort of authorities in some capacity, and ones with connections, given they had learned about the clan…being located in the US, especially. At the end of the day, a job was a job, and he was not an evil man, and a serial killer was, and deserved to die. He had not questioned his jobs in the past, and he was sure that once in a while he had probably taken out someone who may have been less deserving of others, but it was not in his mind to regret.

The times he had lost control of his powers were one thing, but work was work.

Dropping the folders on the other side of the bed as he stretched his long body out, he crossed his legs and smoked his pipe. He had remembered to bring a fair supply of his favorite tobacco, at least, though he might see if a certain someone would send him a bit more from Shanghai if he ran out. He wasn't a heavy smoker-mostly after meals and once in a while when relaxing, at least.

His mind wandered again, as it could from time to time when he was alone. He began thinking of a few other things to pick up, and also to start to find some restaurants he might like to both eat at and order from. In the next hour or so, he planned on heading out, as dusk would have become dark and he would feel more in his element. He was a bit hungry, and when walking by a few restaurants earlier he smelled some rather nice things. He had a mind of a place to try out, at least.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he rested for some time; it wasn't quite sleep, but a sort of almost calm state that he put himself in for the next half hour, letting his mind clear so he could better form some thoughts later on.

Nothing feels more appropriate to me right now than sitting at a place like this.

"A place like this" happened to be a small and dingy noodle bar on the outskirts of the Chinatown area, which was relatively close to his safehouse, at least for him. After resting for some time, he had gotten dressed and headed downstairs to the city proper for dinner and fresh air.

Duo Lon's choice of city travel tended to be 'anything off the beaten path.' He enjoyed high places, and would often kick off the walls of alleys, reach the roofs of lower buildings, and take off, jumping toward his destination, unseen by all. Alleyways and parking lots, anything out of the way, were his favored spaces.

Always in the shadows. Even when he was on the main streets, he managed to blend into the shadows. But he preferred to be out of crowds. He did not fear them-it was just second nature to him.

Plus, he had to be careful out in a large crowd sometimes. The heavy stone weights in his hair, when he had it up in his braid, could cause serious damage to people and architecture in his vicinity if he turned his head too suddenly. Once in the past, he had been startled-thankfully not relying on his killing instinct, but simply turning his head abruptly-and as a result a parking meter met its untimely demise.

He recalled Shen finding the whole thing hilarious.

That said, he'd of course go out for food, shopping, and the like, and it wasn't like he was completely antisocial. He just kept to himself when out and about.

Finding his way around this place had been easy-he had been here before, and the Hizoku were trained to memorize city layouts quickly and accurately. It was an important necessity for one in his profession-find your target quickly, and find an escape route. Know where your target might hide.

He knew as soon as he saw this place that it would be a favorite of his. It reminded him of being back home, and he would always try to find one in whatever big city he was in.

Everyone kept to themselves, which he liked, the cooks simply serving up his order and leaving him be. He had decided to try their special out-usually a safe bet when one found a new place like this-and they had a very nice and spicy hot oil, full of Szechuan pepper for that lovely numbing feel. Spicy food did not affect him in the least-when one could drink poison like water, it tended not to-but he still enjoyed it.

The noodles were greasy and chewy, didn't skimp on the meat, and it was a substantial portion as well. He had gotten some pickled vegetables and a bun on the side, but places like this did not have large menus, nor did they need them.

As he sipped some tea, he took out one of the several newspapers he had picked out earlier from the stand.

Having not really done an investigation like this-the closest thing had been hunting down the traitor that had once been his father, and even then he knew who he was looking for, just not the location-he figured newspapers would be a good way to start seeing what folks were saying, and just what they were hiding from the public, given the case files he had in his possession.

He had selected a variety of papers. The biggest daily publication for starters, of course, that many in the city received daily, and then one from Chinatown in his native tongue. In addition he grabbed a smaller, district newspaper-mostly dealing with goings-on in the center city, and finally, a tabloid. Most of these were rubbish, and he expected this would be no different …but when it comes to these things, it never hurt to cover one's bases, as an occasional bit of truth could sometimes be gleaned through all the sensationalism.

He had grabbed the regional one first, skimming the headlines as he plowed steadily through the bowl, the chilly breeze hitting him pleasantly. He had thrown on his more casual leather jacket over his qipao, but given weather barely affected his strange, slightly off biology, he was comfortable in about anything. His bangs blew around, as they would-he hadn't done his hair up again in the braid yet, as it took a couple of hours and he had wanted to go out before it had gotten too late-but the double-tail kept it off the ground, at least.

The paper didn't say much-it had mentioned that the authorities were still checking, and some bits on the latest victim, none of which was unknown to him, as it was all in the case files and then some. People were understandably uneasy, and they had issued a warning to students to take care at night, and to be careful about people they did not know inviting them places.

Duo Lon filed a bit of information away about checking out some of the colleges-fairly discreetly, of course, but despite looking a bit stunning, he could stay incredibly nondescript if he needed to be, as part of his training. A young man himself, only twenty-one, he could pass easily for someone scoping out the place. He had fit in more bizarre places in his time than that, so it would be something he'd do likely later in the week.

Deciding to check the paper from Chinatown next, it mostly just touched on similar things-police searching, the victims' names, how they were from all areas, all male, though of no constant race or religion or whatnot, and so on. He liked the paper, though-it was fairly in depth, and he liked how it was relatively thorough in keeping up with the case, so if anything did pop up, he might expect to see something in it.

He picked up the main paper next; it had the rather cheesy, though fairly stereotypical title of the Metro Herald. The assassin figured he'd become quite familiar with this one soon, and planned on grabbing them each morning.

The Herald had some stuff on the front page; the police chief had given a press conference that morning, it would turn out, on how they now had every extra man available on the job. Telling people to be cautious but not panic, it would be a matter of time before he was caught.

Rubbing his chin at this, he could tell just by reading the press conference, and by the fact someone sought out a skilled member of a clan of ancient, inhuman assassins from China to hunt and take down the killer, that they were nowhere near even close to solving this.

Finishing his bowl of noodles and the tea they had given him, he nodded to the cook, saying goodbye in his mother tongue-the cook had been quite happy to speak with a native. Duo Lon could tell that the man was likely from the Shanghai area due to his dialect; he was reminded of his old friend for a moment, likely getting himself into trouble back there while he was gone.

Having collected the newspapers, he started to thread his way through the side streets, taking the low road this time so he could swing by a small store to grab more groceries to stock the otherwise sparse fridge at the safehouse. He was still missing coffee, tea, some alcohol which he enjoyed(which he was happy to see some twenty-four hour places sold), and other odds and ends.

By the time he was heading back with a couple of large plastic bags filled with stuff in one hand, he felt his phone-his real phone-buzz in his pocket. Grabbing it, he flipped it open, knowing who it likely was, since there was only one person who would be messaging him at this time of night-well, morning where he was-that he could think of.

Where the hell are ya? Shen had written. He was probably still up, he figured.

Business in the US, he wrote back. Remember, I had let you know?

Ahh. Gotcha.

Duo Lon blinked. He knew his friend. "Everything okay?"

Uhh…kinda. Can I call?

Sighing, he smiled softly to himself. Shen was an incredible fighter-underworld thugs had no hope of standing against him-but he'd occasionally get himself into trouble that could lead to situations that even he had trouble with. Heavily armed situations. He had been shot before, more than once, and managed to live to tell the tale and come back for revenge after-but he remembered the time that he was almost garroted to death in a warehouse.

Duo Lon had followed him since he had a feeling something was wrong…and it was good that he did. The assassin had slain all of his attackers, saving his life…and later, Shen managed to pull him out of one of the worst moments of his own life mentally, so the two had become fast friends after that year.

He was getting the feeling Shen had managed to get himself into some extra trouble…the kind where he was watching his back from weapons heavier than a knife.

"Of course," he wrote back, as he continued his journey back to what would be his home for the duration of his time there.

A/N: So I'll use this to get a few potential odds and ends out of the way.

-If you hadn't guessed, this is roughly around the end of the 2003 tournament. They aren't exactly sure what's going on with Ash yet, but they think he's up to something. Due to this, Duo Lon doesn't really know Adel too well yet in this timeline(only in an acquaintance manner, not true friend, though they were friendly when they met), and he knows the Ikaris in a light, business-oriented way for now, too.

-While he of course has his stunning jacket that he wears, I tend to believe that characters dress in a variety of ways when not at the tournament, including dressing down. Duo Lon is going to dress as he needs. In the comic that he starred in at 2003's launch, he was wearing a Chinese-style suit top and long coat since he was at a party. When he first met Adel, he was dressed in his coat in a later story, and always at most tournaments. But here, he's trying to go down low. His leather jacket and a sleeveless qipao or some such thing is just right for that.

-The actual source material makes it very unsure on what order the Hero Team met in(it's given that Duo Lon met Ash while on 'several assassination jobs,' but that's about it. For me, the way stuff was written, it made it sound like Duo Lon and Shen had known for a bit before that, given just how their dialogue flowed in the canon team stories. So that's what I run with in this timeline(even if they confirm something else, I feel like this order has very interesting prospects and will keep it.)

-One of my big Duo Lon HCs is his affinity for raw, shrieking black metal. The kind that sounds bleak and underproduced. I tend to make up 'KOF World' band names for these, but I thought it'd go really well with his whole 'screams from the underworld' thing he has going with his win quotes.

-Another HC about him is that he has extensively tattooed arms(a lot of eerie looking ones, almost necromantic or whatnot), as well as scars scattered on them and his torso. Go check out some of the older stories if you'd like to see how he got some of those. (We've never seen his body…we dunno what he looks like under there.) Also I always saw him as being built like a sinewy, dense reptile, think something like Bruce Lee.

-Duo Lon can, indeed, memorize city layouts, as according to team stories. It makes sense the Hizoku would be trained in this.

-I had read a funny comment recently about Duo Lon's kettlebell-weight stone decorations in his hair swinging around suddenly and hitting people around the vicinity accidentally, and thought it would make for a funny bonus reason he avoided crowds.

-Safehouses have to be a thing with him. Anyone in the underworld knows how to procure these. Renting apartments in massive cities under the table, from certain slightly unsavory types looking to skip certain rules, is totally a thing that can happen, and anyone that works a profession like his would know where to get them. Money is generally no problem for the guy, and this is probably something he's done many times.

-If you've ever been in a 2000s city corner store in the US, you'd see they actually sell alcohol and things there, and a lot of places were open 24h.