October 3, 200X, Unknown Restaurant, Shanghai
Checking his watch, the assassin saw that he was well on time.
He had to meet his contact at midnight at the designated area. A restaurant, one of many, with a 'back room' that was geared toward what one might call 'certain clientele.' If he had seen one, he had seen them all. Big cities often had these, no matter where you went.
The message had come, as always, anonymously. Duo Lon had ways one could get in touch with him, as did the Hizoku in general…if you knew where to look. And if you had the funds to hire one, you'd maybe know where to look.
It was the same as always. He wouldn't question the client; if he didn't like a job, he'd walk away.
He walked away from very, very few. Occasionally one would fill him with distaste and he would not take it, but generally speaking he was quite open for work. It was a profession that never ran out of clients…or targets.
So long as they paid, Duo Lon would do the job. It was how he was raised; it was the part of the edicts of his clan. His body forged by physical training from his youth, before being tempered with poison and necromancy, created an assassin that was absolutely terrifying, and never missed his target. If he got his hands on a target, they were dead, end of story.
The only one he hadn't gotten yet was the one he wanted the most…but that one was personal.
For now, this was a job like any other.
The young man walked quietly toward the restaurant, the empty back streets littered with leaves and bits of trash here and there. Shanghai was often busy at night, but this was an out-of-the-way, dark area. Dressed in his long, elaborate jacket with the dragons, gold, and tassels, his heavy stone bracelets, simple black trousers and his boots, he walked with his hands clasped behind his back, unbothered by anything at the moment. Anyone who may have passed by would have given the man a berth, as he gave an air off that he was not to be trifled with.
His long braid hanging heavy on his head, the stone weights at the end causing it to dangle much like a pendulum, almost hypnotizing, the only things he carried with him otherwise were his long, black lacquered pipe and favorite tobacco and the covert letter, written by hand, which he much preferred over modern technology.
It was how one could contact his kind.
Finally arriving, he opened the creaking door, stepping into the place. It was dim and smelled of a familiar mix of smoke, herbs, and dishes. He would almost be hungry if he wasn't thinking of business first.
Part of the letter that he was sent came with a coin; he has grabbed it, holding it discreetly out to a man standing near the back, in between two long fingers.
He knew immediately what it was for, nodding and handing it back to Duo Lon before escorting the melancholy young man toward a door. Slipping a key out to unlock it, he bowed, waving him inside.
Standing tall as he walked in, he saw the man sitting on the other side of a round table, several folders in front of him. He was wearing a suit, though it was not a fancy nor expensive one; his short, brown hair was nicely combed. He wore glasses, and looked rather nondescript. His movements told Duo Lon he was not particularly a skilled fighter-he was able to discern this through being trained to look for things like this. But he could tell that he had a gun under his coat…not that it concerned him. He'd have probably been more suspicious if he didn't.
"Sir," the man said, standing and offering his hand out. Duo Lon took it, shaking it firmly, careful not to pierce his skin with his claw-like nails. The man was perhaps slightly disturbed by the assassin's cool skin, but he hid it well, nonetheless bowing his head.
"American?" Duo Lon asked.
"Yes," he said. "Casper." Duo Lon knew this was likely not his real name, but it was not in his code to ask. "I…understand I came a long way. But…it seemed to be the easiest way to contact you."
"Correct," he said, sitting across from him, placing his pipe on the table. "What do you need? There is but one reason to seek me out."
"Yes," he said, sliding him a folder. "I have a target."
Duo Lon opened the folder, seeing no photo, and only a few apparent…case files. He blinked, skimming the surface. "I understand that…but I'm confused. I don't see a name here. Or any information at all, but…what are these?"
The man-Casper, it was-sighed. "It's not…traditional. In fact, I'm not sure if you've taken a job like this."
"I've taken many jobs," he said. "I doubt this would surprise me. So long as you meet the agreed on price. I may request more, depending on how much of my own investigation I need to perform."
"I can match it," he said casually.
"What would you have me do, then?"
Leaning forward, he peered into Duo Lon's eerie, red eyes. He was unsettled by them, and wondered if this was the right man…but his contacts had assured him that this was someone that he could trust with this particular job. Clearing his throat, he shut the case file.
"I need you to hunt down-and eliminate-a serial killer."