Illumi Zoldyck

The gates of the house were reminiscent of old steel, found only in old buildings that had stood in the same spot for centuries. It was nothing significant, nothing grand, not even remotely like his home, and yet it had an old charm that Illumi didn't appreciate but noted.

There were no watchdogs in this place. No guards, no servants who looked as if they could protect the house if it was asked of them. Instead, there was only emptiness before him. Clear, unmistakable emptiness that had nothing left but long-forgotten conviction.

Milluki had looked up the name of the woman he had been given.

She wasn't the biggest name heard in upscale societies, but she was familiar. Most people knew who they were dealing with when they heard the name Meunier.

She was a rich woman, childless on paper and yet, if you stuck your nose deep enough, you found out quickly that she had a daughter. The only descendant left of that family. Endless details Milluki had given him because the boredom had stayed with him since the last game.

"Too easy." Entirely to himself, Illumi eyed the house from top to bottom. In the darkness, it resembled a creepy castle he had once seen in a movie on Killua's computer. He thought he remembered it had been a horror film. One of those works that you weren't allowed to see until you were a certain age, even though that made absolutely no sense. Why should a child be prevented from seeing a film just because it showed a bit of violence? In the end, it wasn't even real.

Half in thought, Illumi swung himself over the fence, which rattled under his weight. On the other side, he landed silently in the grass, which grazed his bare ankles. Again his gaze wandered over the property, examining the rose bushes and also noticing the ridiculous trip hazard between them. Presumably, this woman saw no point in investing money in something when few people were interested in her. His target subject didn't care about safety.

His legs carried him gallantly along the path, over the little traps that had certainly never been triggered. They didn't hinder him for a moment. Instead, they offered him little entertainment. Bad arrangements were something all assassins enjoyed.

By the time he reached the door, he counted four traps, all of which possessed the same childish strategy as conventional pranks. Without further ado, he brushed a strand behind his ear before turning his attention to the entrance. His job was simple. He was about to kill his target, akin to an accident. No one else was supposed to come to harm. No one could see him. He had to be a shadow on the walls. Nothing more, nothing less.

So Illumi scurried to the back of the house. The smell of food filtered through to him, conveying that someone was cooking, even though it was already night and most were in bed. At least those who had nothing better to do. Brows raised, Illumi followed the scent until he spotted a slim glow of light from a window. Probably a servant he would ram a needle into to put them to sleep. Tomorrow, they wouldn't remember a thing. Only their mistress would be dead.

Illumi didn't hold back as he headed for the back door, ultimately reaching for the knob to open the barrier. The glaring light that threatened to blind him immediately after made him narrow his eyes to small slits. Simultaneously, he tilted his head to the side, heard steel drilling into wood, and fixed his gaze on the woman in the kitchen, who had nothing of a servant about her. Instead, there stood his mission, pale around the nose, eyes wide, breath held. She was the spitting image of this strange girl, his employer.

Her hand was still half outstretched. The knife she had thrown merely attracted the Zoldyck's attention out of the corner of his eye. A poor attempt to fight back that could have killed a normal burglar, perhaps.

"I know you!" Before Illumi could even reach for his needles and command her, she backed away from him a few steps. Her statement was louder than she probably liked and yet there was only surprise in her gaze. "I had thought you would come later. Maybe ... in four or five years."

"You were expecting me?" Still motionless, Illumi watched her. Her body betrayed no fear, of that he was sure. He had eliminated enough people to know what fear looked like. But this woman was different. She had been waiting for him and hadn't expected him at the same time. Not that night.

"Absolutely. I can foresee things. And the future told me Soleil would get the money together for a Zoldyck." She leaned back at the kitchen counter. "I should have had her killed, but when I heard she was just a stripper and barely making ends meet, I figured I'd give her the time of day."

"Hmm." It was uninteresting. She was uninteresting, and listening to her further would only cost him time no one would give him back. This woman wasn't an exciting job that would challenge him. She was merely trying to find a way out by engaging him in a conversation that would throw him off his game.

She was terribly naïve.

A rich woman who knew nothing about contract killers.

So he reached for a couple of needles he kept stashed in his pant pocket and lifted them. She should know what was going to happen.

"I'll offer you more money if you kill my daughter in my place. How about double what she gives you?" Her smug tone had a bland aftertaste to it, which Illumi barely noticed, pushing it aside with his tongue.

"Denied. We take our job seriously." His lips twisted into a friendly smile. One of those gestures that Milluki had claimed made conversations easier. Smiling was a good thing. And although his brother had at one point told him to stop smiling because it probably only made situations worse, Illumi had spent some time practising in front of the mirror.

His smile was convincing.

Trustworthy.

Warm.

"How can you be so cold?"

Or not.

"You should realise that killing me would be a disadvantage to you. My skills are highly valuable." She shrugged. "I am also skilled in Nen, as you must know. And that doesn't refer to foretelling. I do that part with cards."

She was really trying to convince him of herself. But her words sounded so sluggish in his ears the presence of his needles between his fingers became a little clearer to him.

"Are you even listening to me?" Her outrage roused Illumi from his trance and he tried again for a fixed smile.

"No." He raised his needles. "I'm not here to talk."

His fingers flexed, wanting to throw the needles at her, but this woman didn't hesitate for a second. Before he could even set his sights on her, she had bridged the distance between them. One hand clenched into a fist, she rammed a punch baselessly against his jaw. Teeth gritted, the pain lingered in a barely perceptible throb and even as he staggered back a few steps because his footing hadn't been firm enough for a surprise attack, she loomed over him.

Knife in hand, she stabbed down at him, but missed as Illumi took a gallant step to the side and readjusted his balance. Two needles slipped from his fingers and dug meaninglessly into the ground as his target had already regained distance. She was fast. But she was equally unpractised. Her movements were sloppy and the heavy, lavishly decorated dress on her body made her a perfect target. She was no fighter and her meagre Nen merely toughened her up more than a normal person. Away from that, she stood at the beginning.

The knife in her hand pointed at him as she pressed her lips together and concentrated. Illumi, however, fixed her with his eyes. He didn't have to blink, could just look at her and analyse her every move. She was looking for weak points and judging her to be weaker than she was, was probably in her plan.

"We can do that all evening if you like." Her voice sounded as withering as that of the politicians, half of whom Illumi had already forgotten shortly after their heads had fallen from their bodies. "Go back to Soleil and tell her she'd better protect herself before she catches another virus. Being a whore, it's a quick way to die."

"I can't do that," the Zoldyck replied with matter-of-fact kindness that seemed almost more deadly than the needles he valued. It was strange, but to his own ears, it came across as a perfectly fitting interjection.

"I don't care what you can and can't do." Unnerved, his opponent wrinkled her nose. "It is a fact, and someone should remind her of it. She has no business here, and she has no value in the ranks of the exalted people. The only reason she can keep her surname is because I don't want to hand over my fortune to the city when I die. But by then, I'm sure I'll have found an alternative."

Presumably, this woman was disgusting. She had a small, insane aspect that reminded Illumi of his mother and seemed completely out of place in his own unique way. It almost seemed like it was okay to give her a head start, to see if she could really put up a fight.

But he wasn't Hisoka.

And half-measures weren't what the Zoldycks were known for – or for wasting time.

So Illumi started moving straight towards this woman, whose bewilderment grew before she went on the offensive. She had no room to retreat and charged forward because of it, thinking she was faster than him; but her attack narrowly missed his side as he spun slightly and formed his hands into claws. An old trick that every Zoldyck had mastered, making his nails as sharp as blades. Good enough to aim at her neck in a flash.

The brief resistance of skin lingered on his fingers as he scraped her neck and still didn't catch her completely. Her nimble feet made her take a step back, only to twist the knife in her hands and chase it sideways in his direction. She wanted to impale him, get rid of him, and accomplish anything to stay alive.

She was better than expected.

And yet not good enough when he grabbed her wrist and broke it without hesitation. The cracking of her bones had something of bushy wood about it and the scream that tried to escape her was drowned in blood as Illumi cut her throat in the same second. What remained was an indefinable gurgling that couldn't be interpreted before she collapsed – useless as a doll.

Her dress turned a vast red, bathing the fabric in a shimmering sheen in the artificial light that made him pucker his mouth. It was supposed to look like an accident, but it looked like this woman had been killed.

A mess he had to clean up before he left.

Still, Illumi took the freedom to pull out his phone and open the chat with Soleil. The few words he typed in were clear.

His job was almost done.