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033 Night Shift Hustle – Part 3 – Mark’s POV

  033 Night Shift Hustle - Part 3 - Mark’s POV

  I flipped my butterfly knife, the bde spinning between my fingers with a smooth metallic click, before sliding it back into its sheath.

  The metal was made of some sharp and tough stuff—Mom had gone out of her way to get me the best gear possible. So it was no surprise that it had cut through the cleaver.

  Mirai was still breathing hard, her eyes wide. Blood spttered her cheek and strands of her bck hair stuck to her face. But she was standing. That was what mattered.

  I brushed my hand over her shoulder, checking for injuries.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  Mirai blinked, her eyes refocusing. “What’s happening, Mark?”

  I sighed. That was the problem. I didn’t know how to expin this to her.

  This was the first ‘dangerous’ event of the game.

  According to Mom, Mirai would be targeted by an assassin early in the story. It was supposed to be some kind of pivotal moment, but Mom didn’t tell me why. Neither did she write anything about it in the journals she gave me.

  I crouched down, picking up the severed cleaver. Its edges gleamed with a faint, unnatural sheen. The bde wasn’t normal steel—it had this deep, polished look, like dark gss threaded with veins of silver.

  I ran my thumb along the edge. Yeah. I’d felt this before.

  “Dungeon tech,” I muttered.

  Mirai tilted her head. “Huh?”

  I held up the cleaver. “It’s not normal. Made with dungeon materials. Cryptid parts, probably. And… this edge…” I squinted at the faint silver glint running through the core of the bde. “I think it’s mythril.”

  “Mythril?”

  “Yeah. High ESP synchronicity.” I turned the cleaver in my hands. “It reacts well to ESP users. Holds enchantments. Stronger and sharper than normal steel.”

  Mirai folded her arms, her brow furrowing. “Okay, but why are you inspecting it like that? More importantly—what the hell was that thing? And what do you mean ‘assassin’?”

  I stayed quiet for a second too long.

  “Mark.”

  I sighed. “Look, calm down.”

  “Calm down?!” Mirai gred at me. “An assassin just tried to kill me in our workpce! I think I’m allowed to freak out a little!”

  “…Fair.”

  She stomped toward me. “Now tell me what’s going on!”

  I scratched the back of my neck. “It’s… complicated.”

  “Try me.”

  I took a deep breath. “My upbringing was… different from most.”

  Mirai narrowed her eyes.

  “And?”

  “And… yeah.” I tapped the severed cleaver against my palm. “I know an assassin when I see one.”

  Mirai’s mouth opened and closed. “You—what?”

  I smiled thinly. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

  “Oh, it sounds plenty bad.”

  “Maybe.” I looked back down at the cleaver, letting its weight settle in my hand. “But the point is—we’re alive. And now we know someone’s after you.”

  Her eyes softened. “You’re not seriously saying you’re used to this kind of thing?”

  “…I’m saying I’ve seen worse.”

  She crossed her arms, lips pressing into a thin line. “And you’re just casually dropping this now?”

  “Would you have believed me if I told you earlier?”

  “…No.”

  “Exactly.”

  I set the cleaver down on the counter with a soft clink.

  “Mark.” Her voice was quieter now. “If you’ve dealt with this before… then what happens next?”

  I looked her in the eye. “We figure out who sent the assassin.”

  “And if they try again?”

  I smiled. “They won’t get that far.”

  “Why are you so sure the assassin was targeting me?” Mirai asked.

  I gave her the look.

  She avoided my gaze, her arms wrapping around herself as her mind probably repyed the attack. Yeah, she’d figured it out already—how the assassin hadn’t gone for me despite how exposed I was. How the cleaver had almost taken her head off. How the guy had only attacked me when I’d gotten between them.

  I watched her expression harden as the realization sank in.

  Suddenly, a wet, choking sound filled the air.

  The assassin stirred. Blood spurted in a messy arc.

  Mirai and I both whipped toward the source. Slowly, the invisibility peeled away like smoke dissolving in the air—revealing a middle-aged man sprawled on the ground. Pale skin, rough stubble on his jaw, wiry muscles under a thin frame.

  And completely naked.

  “Seriously?” I muttered.

  Guess his ESP required skin contact with the air to stay invisible. That was… unfortunate.

  “Oh my god,” Mirai whispered. “Oh my god, oh my god, what have I done!?”

  Her hands flew to her mouth as her knees buckled.

  I followed her gaze.

  The naked guy had a whole toothbrush embedded in his eye.

  A dark pool spread beneath his head, mixing with the blood still leaking down his face. The bristles were jammed so deep that I didn’t even want to think about how much pressure that must’ve taken.

  “Holy shit,” I murmured.

  Mirai stumbled back, eyes wide, hands shaking.

  “Oh god. I— I—”

  I walked toward the body, crouched down, and pressed two fingers against the guy’s neck.

  One weak pulse. Then nothing.

  “He’s dead,” I said.

  Mirai’s breath hitched. “No. No, no, no—”

  “It’s fine.”

  Her head snapped toward me, eyes burning. “Fine?!”

  “It was self-defense.” I stood up and wiped my hand on my pants. “He attacked you. What did you think was going to happen?”

  “I—I didn’t mean to—” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t—”

  “You survived,” I said calmly.

  Mirai’s hands balled into fists at her sides. “I just killed a man!”

  “You didn’t have a choice.”

  “That doesn’t make it better!” Her breath hitched. Her whole frame was shaking now. Tears were forming in the corners of her eyes.

  I frowned, realizing I must’ve said something wrong.

  “You were in danger,” I said carefully. “You did what you had to do. That’s… normal.”

  Mirai’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “Normal? Mark, do you hear yourself?!”

  I didn’t answer.

  Because, honestly… yeah. I heard myself.

  And the fact that it sounded normal—that was the problem.

  Mirai stumbled back, hands trembling. Tears were spilling down her cheeks now. She let out a shaky breath, then wiped at her face with the sleeve of her uniform.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  Mirai didn’t answer.

  Her gaze lingered on the body. The dark pool of blood soaking into the floor. The broken cleaver discarded nearby. The toothbrush—a freaking toothbrush—still sticking out of the man’s ruined eye socket.

  She swallowed hard.

  “I didn’t mean to kill him,” she said quietly.

  “I know.”

  “I didn’t want to—”

  “I know.”

  She wiped her eyes again. “Why was he after me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “…You’re lying.”

  I sighed. “No, I am not.”

  Mirai closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “I need answers, Mark.”

  “We’ll get them,” I promised.

  Her eyes opened again, sharp and searching. “Promise?”

  “…Promise.”

  I hugged Mirai.

  Her head rested lightly against my shoulder, her arms still hanging uncertainly at her sides. But she didn’t pull away. She didn’t even flinch. Slowly, I wrapped my arms around her back, resting my chin on the top of her head.

  “It’s okay,” I murmured. “You’re okay.”

  Her breath was shaky against my chest. Her hands clenched the fabric of my uniform as though letting go would make the world colpse.

  I stayed like that for a while—just holding her. Letting her catch her breath.

  “It’ll be fine,” I whispered. “I promise.”

  I felt her exhale against me, the tension in her shoulders slowly easing.

  The moment almost felt… peaceful.

  Until the gss door slid open with a soft ding.

  Mirai stiffened in my arms.

  “We’re closed!” she blurted out, still half-pressed against me. Her face burned red as she realized how close we were. “Ah, I mean—uh—”

  She tried to pull away, but I tightened my grip slightly.

  Another pair of arms wrapped around us.

  “What the—?!” I tensed immediately.

  A hand ruffled my hair. A too-familiar scent of gun oil and roses filled my nose.

  “Wow,” a teasing voice purred in my ear. “My baby boy Mark really knows how to handle his woman. Hugging so affectionately—without your mommy watching?”

  My whole body stiffened.

  Mirai froze. Her head jerked toward the new arrival.

  “…No way,” I whispered.

  “Yes way.”

  That smug, singsong tone could only belong to one person.

  My blood ran cold. “Mom?”

  “Oh, Mark~” My mother’s voice practically dripped with mischief. “Didn’t think you’d see me so soon, did you?”

  Mirai’s mouth opened and closed in stunned silence.

  I turned my head slowly.

  And there she was.

  Evelyn stood behind us, one arm coiled possessively around my shoulder while the other reached around Mirai’s waist, pulling both of us against her. She was dressed casually, a long-sleeved bck turtleneck tucked into a pair of fitted scks, her silver hair perfectly combed and loose over her shoulders. Her crimson eyes gleamed with amusement.

  “Mom,” I said ftly.

  “Mark,” she crooned back.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I was in the neighborhood,” she said breezily.

  “You live two cities away.”

  She smiled. “And?”

  Mirai’s face had gone pale. “M-Mark… this is your…?”

  “M-my mom.”

  “Hi, sweetheart,” Evelyn purred at Mirai, her crimson gaze sweeping over her. “You must be Mirai. My son’s been talking about you.”

  I absolutely had not.

  Mirai’s face turned redder.

  “I—uh—” Mirai stammered.

  “Oh, don’t be shy.” Evelyn’s hand slid from Mirai’s waist to her cheek. She leaned in close, studying Mirai’s face with a predatory smile. “Hmm. You really are cute. No wonder Mark likes you so much.”

  “Stop,” I said.

  Evelyn ignored me.

  “You’re trembling, darling. First time killing someone?”

  Mirai’s breath hitched.

  “Mom,” I growled.

  “She handled herself well,” Evelyn continued, running a finger down Mirai’s cheek. “I’m impressed. Normally a girl would be screaming or throwing up. But you?” She smiled wider. “You only cried a little. How mature.”

  Mirai’s face twisted. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

  “I know,” Evelyn purred. “It’s okay. Really.”

  Her gaze sharpened. “But you’re going to need to toughen up fast if you want to survive this world.”

  I grabbed Evelyn’s wrist.

  “Enough.”

  Her smile sharpened at the edges.

  “Well,” she said sweetly, “I suppose you’re right. It’s not my pce to lecture your girlfriend.”

  Mirai made a choking sound. “We’re not—”

  “Oh?” Evelyn’s eyes gleamed. “Then why were you two practically glued together when I walked in?”

  “Mother,” I hissed.

  “Mother?” She ughed. “Rex, Mark. I’m only teasing.”

  Evelyn stepped back, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeve.

  Mirai’s breathing was still shaky. I could feel the tension radiating off her.

  “You… seriously just showed up out of nowhere?” I said.

  “I had business in the area,” Evelyn replied smoothly.

  “What kind of business?”

  She smiled faintly. “We’ll talk ter.”

  “Mom—”

  “Later,” she repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument.

  I scowled.

  Evelyn smiled. “Anyway, you two should probably clean up the mess. Someone’s going to start asking questions.”

  Her gaze slid to the dead assassin on the floor.

  Mirai flinched.

  “Rex, sweetheart,” Evelyn said. “I’ll handle it.”

  She turned, walking toward the door. “Oh, and Mark?”

  “What?”

  Evelyn looked over her shoulder, eyes glittering.

  “Nice work,” she said. “You’re learning.”

  Then, with a sharp ding, the gss door slid shut behind her.

  The gss door slid open with another soft ding.

  Two people entered the store—a man and a woman, both dressed in bck suits. They carried themselves with the cold efficiency of professionals, their eyes sharp as they surveyed the scene. Neither of them spared a gnce for Mirai or me.

  The man—a tall, broad-shouldered guy with close-cropped blond hair—moved straight toward the body. He crouched down, pulling a rge bck bag from inside his suit jacket. Without hesitation, he grabbed the assassin’s limp body by the arm and started stuffing him into the bag. The sound of bones bending unnaturally under pressure made Mirai flinch.

  The woman approached us. She was tall and slender, with dark hair tied back into a sleek ponytail. Her fitted suit and white gloves were pristine—totally untouched by the mess around us. Her expression was calm but calcuting.

  She smiled. “Young Master.”

  My stomach twisted.

  “Mark,” she said smoothly, “it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  I stared at her. “Who the hell are you?”

  The woman pced a gloved hand over her chest and gave a shallow bow.

  “My name is Shirley,” she said. “That’s Cox.” She tilted her head toward the man, who zipped the body bag closed with a grim finality. “We work for your mother.”

  Mirai stiffened. “Wait—Mark’s mom sent you?”

  Shirley smiled faintly. “Naturally.”

  The sound of liquid spttering against the floor made me gnce toward Cox. He had pulled a small spray bottle from his jacket and was methodically misting the bloodstains on the floor. The blood sizzled faintly as the chemical reacted, dissolving the stains into nothing. Cox worked silently, like a machine, his expression bnk.

  “You’re cleaning this up?” I asked.

  “Of course,” Shirley replied. “We wouldn’t want anyone asking inconvenient questions.”

  I frowned.

  Shirley’s gaze slid toward Mirai. “And you must be Mirai.”

  Mirai hesitated. “...Yeah?”

  Shirley’s smile deepened. “It’s an honor to meet you, young mistress.”

  Mirai’s mouth opened and closed. “Young—what?”

  “I understand this was a stressful situation,” Shirley continued smoothly. “We apologize for the disturbance. We’ll do our best to accommodate you moving forward—but I’m afraid we’ll need your cooperation.”

  Mirai’s eyes widened. “Cooperation for what?”

  “For the cleanup.” Shirley’s eyes darkened slightly. “And the aftermath.”

  Mirai’s face paled. Her hand brushed against my sleeve. “Mark?”

  I didn’t answer immediately. My gaze shifted toward Cox, who had finished erasing the st of the blood. He zipped up the body bag and rose to his feet, lifting the corpse onto his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

  Shirley smiled politely. “You should both take a shower and change your clothes. The chemicals Cox used are… strong. It wouldn’t be good to have residue left on you.”

  Mirai’s hand gripped my sleeve tighter.

  I exhaled slowly. “I trust my mom.”

  Mirai stared at me.

  “…Seriously?”

  I nodded. “If she sent them, it’s fine.”

  Mirai hesitated, then slowly rexed her grip. “…Okay.”

  Shirley’s eyes gleamed. “Good. We’ll handle the rest.”

  Mirai still looked rattled as we headed toward the back of the store. My shoes left faint prints on the floor—some of the spray residue still clinging to them.

  I paused before turning the corner, gncing back toward Cox as he hoisted the body bag onto his shoulder. The dead man’s face was partially visible beneath the zipper—a smear of blood still trickling from the ruined socket where the toothbrush had been lodged.

  Mirai’s work.

  I forced myself to keep walking.

  I stood beneath the shower, feeling the hot water pound against my back.

  Mirai was in the stall next door. I could hear the faint rush of water and her quiet breathing through the thin wall.

  I scrubbed the back of my hand, but the feeling of blood wouldn’t leave.

  My mind drifted back to the assassin. He’d attacked Mirai without hesitation. He’d been aiming to kill her, no question.

  Why?

  Mom said this would happen.

  The first event of the game.

  But why target Mirai specifically? Mom never expined that part. She just told me to be ready when it happened.

  And Mirai…

  She killed him.

  I closed my eyes, remembering the moment the toothbrush sank into the assassin’s eye socket. The sound. The way the man’s body stiffened before colpsing.

  It was clean. Effective. Mirai had been fast.

  But that was the problem.

  She wasn’t supposed to be fast. She wasn’t supposed to kill.

  I rubbed my forehead.

  I tried to remember the first time I killed someone.

  …but nothing came to mind.

  Because I hadn’t.

  Every job Mom gave me—every time we had to eliminate someone—it had always been her.

  Mom had done all the dirty work.

  I’d fought before. Hurt people. Made them bleed. But the final blow? The actual kill?

  That had always been Mom.

  My hand tightened against my forehead.

  Why?

  Why had Mom kept me from crossing that line?

  I couldn’t sympathize with Mirai.

  Offering her words of comfort felt selfish.

  I changed into my clothes.

  The gss door to the shower opened. Mirai stepped out, clutching a towel to her chest. Her hair was still dripping, sticking to her cheeks.

  “Mark?”

  I blinked. “…Yeah?”

  She hesitated. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded slowly.

  She didn’t look convinced.

  “You’re not… upset?”

  “Why would I be upset?”

  “I killed someone.”

  I sighed. “…It was self-defense.”

  “That’s what you keep saying.” Mirai’s voice sharpened. “But it doesn’t make it right.”

  I looked at her, at the way her eyes were still red from crying earlier. Her hands trembled faintly.

  I stepped toward her.

  “Mirai,” I said quietly. “You survived.”

  She swallowed.

  “That’s all that matters.”

  Her lip trembled. “You really think that?”

  I hesitated.

  “…Yeah.”

  She stepped closer. Her hand brushed against my wrist.

  I didn’t pull away.

  Mirai’s breath hitched. “Mark, what’s happening?”

  “…I don’t know.”

  But I had a feeling we’d find out soon.

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