Hitman with a Badass System

Michael pushed open the door and was met with a gruesome sight. A figure, draped in crimson red robes, stood beside a pale-skinned man, who was tightly bound to a chair. The man's throat had been cruelly slit, and blood gushed out, pooling around the chair's legs.

As Michael entered, he immediately recognized the figure in crimson—the Angel of Death, the same enigmatic being he had encountered at Rainar's temple. There was an eerie familiarity in those crimson eyes.

The Angel of Death greeted Michael with a sinister grin and waved his hand casually, shutting the door behind Michael.

"Welcome, dear John," the angel purred, his voice chilling as death itself.

"What did you do?" Michael demanded, his voice quivering with a mixture of anger and dread.

The Angel of Death chuckled, his crimson eyes glinting with an unsettling amusement. "The manager, you see, has called forth for death. It is only my duty to grant him the sweet release he desires."

Michael was taken aback. "Why?" he asked, his voice still firm despite the shock.

The angel merely shook his head, his smile never fading. "Asking why is not my duty, dear John. My duty is to grant death."

The Angel of Death chuckled softly, his eerie crimson eyes locked onto Michael's. "Ah, John," he mused, using the name Michael had given to everyone in this world. "Such a simple name, one that everyone forgets easily. Obviously, it's a fake name, but I don't ponder the real names of those I meet. My duty is singular, after all."

The Angel of Death surprised Michael with his swiftness, slicing through the manager's wrist with a single, graceful swing of his crimson dagger. Blood sprayed from the severed limb, and the Angel nonchalantly tossed the severed arm toward Michael.

"Is this what you were looking for, John?" he asked in a cool, detached tone.

Michael was stunned and surprised by the sudden turn of events. He hadn't expected the Angel of Death to be involved in this macabre scene.

"I know all about your little robbing plan," the Angel of Death continued. "But you don't have to fear me. I have no interest in your game."

Michael carefully placed the bloody wrist in his system's storage, his mind racing with questions. He couldn't shake the feeling that the Angel of Death's presence here was about something more than just the manager's death.

"Why are you here?" Michael asked, his voice steady but laced with curiosity. "I know you didn't come just to kill this man."

The Angel of Death chuckled softly, his crimson robes swaying as he did. "You're correct," he admitted, his pale face devoid of emotion. "I'm here because what better place is there for an Angel of Death to invite someone than in a place where he's just claimed a soul? Irony, wouldn't you say?"

Michael furrowed his brow, sensing that this encounter was far from ordinary. He couldn't help but ask, "Invitation to what?"

The Angel of Death's gaze bore into Michael's, and he said in a tone that sent shivers down his spine, "An invitation to join the Death Merchants."

"I told you I'd be watching you," the Angel of Death remarked calmly, his crimson dagger still gleaming with the manager's blood.

Michael was in shock. He hadn't sensed the presence of the Angel of Death, but it was now obvious that the enigmatic assassin had been following his every move.

In response, Michael activated his Eyes of Darkness and saw a pulsating red aura around the Angel of Death. It was a clear indication that this angelic assassin was far stronger than he was.

"It's time we initiate a fellow assassin into our secret guild," the Angel of Death said, his voice like a whispering shadow.

Michael, realizing the urgency of the situation, spoke quickly. "We should relocate to a safer place. The orcs will soon storm this room."

The Angel of Death snickered softly and calmly replied, "My little friends will take care of everyone in the manor. We can speak freely here."

Inside his head, Pink's voice echoed with a note of urgency, "Ghost, something strange is happening. The orcs and mercenaries have all fallen unconscious."

Michael, however, remained focused on the Angel of Death, ignoring Pink's warning for the moment.

The Angel of Death continued to speak, his words carrying an air of finality, "Finish whatever you have on your plate within two months, and come to join our guild."

His crimson eyes bore into Michael's, and a dangerous edge crept into his tone, "Don't think about rejecting this invitation."

The threat hung in the air, leaving no room for negotiation or refusal.

The Angel of Death turned away from Michael, his crimson robe billowing as he gracefully approached the window. He cast a final glance over his shoulder and said, "Dealing in death often comes with rewards worth more than gold coins."

With that cryptic statement, he leaped out of the window, disappearing into the night with an eerie grace that defied explanation.

Michael rushed to the window, his eyes scanning the dark expanse outside. To his astonishment, the angel had vanished completely from his sight, leaving no trace behind.

As Michael gazed out of the window, he witnessed a startling sight. Carriages and armored orcs were converging on the manor from all directions. It was clear that reinforcements were on their way, and the situation was about to escalate further.

Pink's voice echoed urgently in his earpiece, "Ghost, reinforcements are coming. You need to leave, now!"

Without hesitation, Michael leaped out of the window, activating his shadow teleportation to distance himself from the manor swiftly. As he ascended into the night sky, he couldn't help but glance down once more.

What he saw was astounding. Countless orcs and soldiers in gleaming armor had surrounded the manor, their torches and light orbs creating an eerie, surreal glow in the darkness. The situation had turned into a full-blown crisis, and Michael had narrowly escaped it.

Returning to the Vilnius gang hideout, Michael called Elmer and the heist crew together. Elmer, in his role as a gang member, asked with a mix of curiosity and concern, "How did everything go, John?"

Inside, Michael couldn't help but be amused by Elmer's convincing act. He decided to play along and allow Elmer to believe he was just another member of the gang. With a flick of his wrist, a severed hand materialized in his grasp.

He tossed the gruesome offering onto the table, and Elmer's eyes widened in shock at the sight. Michael calmly stated, "Now we have the rune, and it's time to take our heist to the next stage."

Elmer, still clearly affected by the severed hand, asked hesitantly, "Did you... did you kill the manager?"

Michael tilted his head slightly and asked in return, "Why do you care?"

Elmer quickly responded, "Killing the manager would bring unnecessary heat on the gang. We don't want the authorities sniffing around."

Michael chuckled coldly, his eyes gleaming with a calculating edge. "I'm not an amateur, Elmer. I don't leave behind evidence. The authorities will be scratching their heads, trying to figure out what happened at that manor."

Michael's gaze shifted to the orcs and dwarves who stood behind Elmer. His eyes bore into each of them with an intensity that sent shivers down their spines.

In a voice that dripped with chilling coldness, Michael warned, "If any of you even think about double-crossing me, I will cut you to pieces and scatter your remains so far and wide that not even your mothers or wives will be able to identify you."

The threat hung heavily in the air, and the two dwarves, their voices stuttering, quickly assured, "W-we wouldn't dare, John. We're loyal to the gang."

Michael turned to Elmer and said, "Prepare everything for the heist tomorrow."

Elmer, caught off guard by the sudden change in plans, stammered, "I... I thought the heist was scheduled for today."

Michael, his tone casual, replied, "Plans change, Elmer. Just do as I tell you, and everything will go smoothly."

Elmer didn't say anything, but inwardly, he was shocked. He had informed Thalindra that the heist would happen today, and now John had suddenly altered everything. He knew better than to display his emotions on his face; John was far more cunning than he appeared.

As Michael dismissed the orcs and dwarves with a wave of his hand, they quickly exited the room. However, just as he reached the door, Michael called Elmer back.

"Elmer," Michael said, "keep an eye on Vilnius."

Elmer nodded in acknowledgment and then left the room to carry out his new orders.

Michael settled into the ornate throne after Elmer's departure. As he made himself comfortable, Pink's voice chimed in through his earpiece.

"Why did you tell Elmer to keep an eye on Vilnius?" she inquired.

Michael chuckled softly and replied, "Just to throw Elmer off the scent for a bit, keep him guessing."

Pink, ever efficient, immediately responded, "Elmer is heading back to the city, probably to establish contact with Thalindra, his handler."

Michael's tone remained cold and composed as he instructed, "Find out how Elmer establishes contact with Thalindra. We need to know everything."

With their plan now set in motion, Michael leaned back on the throne, ready to dive into the next phase of their ambitious heist.

In the stillness of the dimly lit room, Michael retrieved a red metal plate adorned with an intricate golden emblem. The emblem depicted a skeletal figure, one hand gripping a scythe, the other clutching a pouch.

As he held the plate in his hand, Michael found himself pondering the cryptic intentions of the God of Death and his angels. "What are they playing at with this guild?" he muttered under his breath.

With a flick of his wrist, he turned the metal plate, revealing a blank, featureless back. He continued to contemplate the uncertain path that lay ahead, asking himself, "What awaits me in this guild of shadows?"