In a secluded alleyway, two men in black cloaks stood watching Sharon as she ran frantically.
"That girl is truly beautiful—even more than the one on the poster," one of them remarked.
He pulled back his hood, revealing a particularly ugly face.
His short blond hair was streaked with black, and his skin was covered in cystic acne that spread across his entire face.
If there were a contest for the ugliest man in the capital, he would undoubtedly take first place without competition.
At his words, the man beside him nodded in agreement and lowered his own hood.
"You're right, she's stunning. I can't wait to taste her," he said, his face twisting into a lewd expression.
His head was completely bald, his face swollen with fat, and scabs dotted his cheeks and neck, making him look even more repulsive.
The two exchanged glances, their burning desires barely concealed.
"Let's catch the girl first and have our fun. After that, we kill her and complete the mission," the ugly man said eagerly.
"Agreed!" The fat man nodded without hesitation.
Just as they were about to put their hoods back on and move, footsteps echoed from behind, followed by a calm yet indifferent voice.
"So, that ominous feeling came from you two, huh?"
They jolted in shock and quickly turned toward the source of the voice, only to see a handsome man emerge from the darkness, his expression cold.
"Who are you?" the ugly man asked warily.
As a professional assassin, he could sense the presence of people within a hundred-meter radius.
Yet, he hadn't detected anyone within ten meters—something utterly impossible!
The fat man beside him also tensed, a hint of horror flickering in his eyes.
Like his companion, he could sense people within tens of meters, but the handsome man before them had been completely undetectable.
It was as if he had appeared out of thin air!
Arthur, the handsome man, smirked coldly as he approached.
"You two don't need to know," he said indifferently. "Just answer me—were you assigned to kill a girl named Sharon Valura?"
An oppressive aura surged from his body, forcing the two men to their knees, their legs trembling uncontrollably.
Their faces turned pale, their eyes widening in terror.
"What an overwhelming aura!" the ugly man gasped in horror.
His mere presence was enough to render them completely immobilized.
Even without understanding the full extent of his strength, they were certain—this man was well beyond their capabilities!
Still, as professional assassins with trained mental fortitude, they quickly composed themselves and fixed their gazes on Arthur, their expressions turning serious.
"Sir, we have no business with you. Please don't interfere with our work," the ugly man said cautiously.
His comrade beside him gave a small nod, gritting his teeth. "What he said is true. Leave now, or we'll be forced to take action and end you."
Arthur chuckled at the last part. "Take action? Are you sure about that?"
With that, he intensified the aura surrounding him, forcing both men to collapse helplessly onto the ground.
'Damn it!' The ugly man cursed in fear.
He tried to move, but his limbs wouldn't obey. The aura was simply too overwhelming to resist.
"Hehehe..." Arthur laughed as he stepped closer, stopping right in front of the two.
He looked down at them dismissively. "You're just weak, helpless fools. How dare you threaten me?"
"You…" The fat man panted, glaring at him with hatred.
In all his years as an assassin, he had never been so humiliated.
How could he tolerate this?
Fury twisted his face as he snarled, "You're done for! We're from the Blood Moon organization! If you dare stand in the way of our mission—"
Before he could finish, a black knife shot forward, piercing his throat.
"Ugh..." The fat man's eyes widened, his mouth falling open.
Blood poured from the corner of his lips and from the knife lodged in his neck.
"What a nuisance," Arthur said indifferently.
Blood continued to flow from the fat man's wound, draining the color from his face. His body stiffened before collapsing lifelessly to the ground.
The sight made the ugly man tremble with fear.
As an assassin, he was no stranger to death.
Yet seeing his partner die so brutally filled him with a terror he had never experienced before.
Arthur's cold gaze locked onto him, sending a chill down his spine.
"Tell me—who gave the order to kill that girl? If you don't, don't blame me for sending you to hell to join your comrade," he threatened icily.
The ugly man went deathly pale and quickly responded, "I don't know who gave the order! I was only told by the organization to eliminate her! Please, spare me!"
"You're lying," Arthur's eyes gleamed dangerously. "When the Blood Moon organization gives an assignment, you always know who's behind it. It's standard procedure."
The ugly man froze in shock.
"You... How did you know?" He stammered.
It was a secret known only to Blood Moon members, something that outsiders couldn't possibly know!
Arthur's expression remained as cold as ever as he pressed, "No need to ask too many questions. Just tell me who they are, or I'll send you to the underworld to meet Lord Yama for real."
He grabbed the knife still lodged in the fat man's throat and pressed its tip against the ugly man's neck.
A thin trickle of blood began to flow from the small wound that had opened.
The sharp pain made the man panic, his breath quickening. "I—I'll tell you! It was the royal family! But I don't know who it was!"
He sighed in relief, realizing just how terrifying it was when his own life was at risk. For the first time, he truly understood what it felt like to be in the shoes of the victims he had killed.
Arthur's eyes narrowed. 'The royal family? Who?'
Suddenly, a figure flashed in his mind—the Second Prince, Cassius.
'Could it be him?' He muttered, lost in thought.
From an outsider's perspective, Cassius seemed the most likely suspect.
After all, he had conflicts with both him and Sharon.
But something felt off. His instincts told him there was more to it than met the eye.
"Since I've told you, will you let me go?" The man's voice interrupted his thoughts.
Arthur turned toward him, a cold grin spreading across his face. "Sorry, I can't do that."
"You—" The man was startled and about to speak, but before he could utter another word, Arthur drove the knife through the back of his throat.
The man's body stiffened before collapsing, lifeless.
Arthur pulled the knife free and stood, a thoughtful expression on his face. "So this is what they mean by the first taste of killing, huh?"
He stared at the knife in his hand. In a scientific journal he'd read, it was said that someone committing their first murder would often experience prolonged fear, panic, and anxiety.
Yet, strangely, he felt none of that.
Was it because the real Aron had been an assassin?
Or perhaps it was the merging of Aron's memories with his own, bringing with them some of his cruel, cold nature?
There were logical reasons for it, but none of that mattered. In the end, both men deserved to die.
Shaking off the thought, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial of white powder, sprinkling it over the corpses.
In an instant, red light flashed, and their bodies vanished without a trace.
Arthur nodded in satisfaction, then turned and disappeared into the darkness.