Mako just got back from his most recent hit, a young man by the name of Zerm Pac, a Nationalist journalist, when he already had a new request in the mail.
Strange, I'm not known enough to get this many hits, thought Mako,
Or am I failing in my job? Referring to himself gaining more fame by the week.
He unwrapped the letter, careful not to leave fingerprints, and read the name. It was the name of Ken Barth, a Nationalist party memeber.
I've been getting more and more hits like these, Mako thought,
Someone wants them wiped out? Eh, doesn't matter to me so long as I get my money....
After a travel to the Nation of Hubras, Mako, in disguise, came to an informant who told him where to find this party member. After taking the information, Mako quickly silenced the informant via an ice shard to the throat.
...
As it is, Ken was a shop owner with a wife and two children, both boys.
Upon realizing what he is about to do to Barth's boys, Mako quickly reminded himself,
Your parents were kiled when you were 5, so these two should have no problem recupirating. He came up to the shopkeep's counter and asked, "May I have a new kitchen knife? My old one broke."
"Of course, sir," answered Barth, "Let me get it for you."
"Please do," replied Mako.
As the shopkeeper walked towards the knife shelves, Mako noticed that it was a fairly rickety shelf, and took advantage. He kicked the shelf, making it fall apart, and causing knives to fall everywhere, including Ken Barth's head.
"I'd prefer not to shop in a place where it is so dangerous to even get a knife from a shelf," Mako said to Barth's corpse.
Outside the store waited a strange man with a package.
As he caught sight of Mako, he asked "Excuse me, could you deliver this to Mr. Barth?"
"Of course," Mako answered, "I'll give it to him as soon as I see him."
The package was labled "To Ken Barth," but had no return adress or a specific adress to be delivered to. Mako understood perfectly, and walked away, opening the package to find 50,000 gold, the reward for his job well done....
P.S. What's an OOC?