Operation: One percent

Chapter 6

Margaret

 Two people were next on my hit list: Ace Mountangue and his father. 

That night when they killed Maryam, I swore that I would finish off every puppet master behind this system, no matter how incompetent I was. Cutting it in the roots was the only way I could think of. Firstly I went for the bounty hunters, in hopes that they would know something about who sent them, but I realized, that for each kill, two more respawn eventually.

The same shady individual who was selling me antidepressants introduced me to the boards and the assassin ranks. I dismissed it at first, wanting to work only for me, but as the money was drying up, soon I registered at the boards as well. I was ranked third in the assassin boards, and that was quite easy as there were very few of us.  I just hoped they wouldn't go after the same target as me, but I suppose they also got the message.

 I didn't care about being the first, but it would definitely skyrocket my ego if I was.

The scoreboards refreshed 5 minutes before the government posted, and it was ranked based on the loot received so far and the kill count, as well as the efficiency for success throughout the missions. And all was monitored through a separate device that looked just like a normal glass phone at first glance, but upon entering it, it was password protected, unlike the ordinary phone.

Assassins and bounty hunters were different in several ways.

Assassins were hired by the people, and bounty hunters were hired by the government, however, that line could have been easily crossed as there was no way of knowing who posted the bounty. That being said, I was unsure who in the general folk had such money to order the killing of Ace, and I wondered why they even were targeting him.

Most of the time, people would call us when they would miss out on the payment on the post-off for whatever reason. Sometimes, they would simply not get their salary on time other times, they would just forget. In the past, the need for assassins was occasional, as people managed their finances well, but with time, they grew more comfortable and lenient towards their lives it seemed. 

Assassins also had a code of conduct where one couldn't kill another assassin if they were to get their loot taken away from them, whereas bounty hunters had no such rules. If an assassin did perchance kill another, then the penalty for that would be a lifetime restriction to the boards. It was widely thought, however not confirmed, that the government had no knowledge of or access, to such a board, but that didn't stop the bounty hunters from checking the boards as well.

Also, assassins had no access to the bounties posted by the government, but most bounty hunters could check out the boards of the assassins as well. But most importantly, assassins had a single identifier, a tattoo, of which were words of an ancient language vivere militare est.

You could tattoo it anywhere, but I chose to get it on the nape of my neck, under my hair. Some vain assassins had their nickname tattooed as well.

In all honesty, it was much better being a bounty hunter, though even if I did find out how to become one, I would never want to be associated with the government in any way. 

Codename Zephyr was at the first place-kill count averaging 60 a month, 500.000 credits earned so far, and an efficiency of 98%.

My kill count was 15, 70.000 credits, and 100% efficiency.

Zephyr was someone not to be messed with, and I hoped I never cross paths with them.

It was difficult to know if they were still active, as the board only showed general stat, and the record holders unless beaten, would always be first place, and Zephyr has been number one for years now. Regardless, for someone who was never professionally trained in the art of killing, with only revenge driving them, I thought that I was relatively successful at my job.

I was not as fast and lean as I was when I was younger, so I had to utilize more passive means of killing. Setting the stage, the means, and letting it play out, only for me to confirm that they are truly dead in the end was my way of doing it. I guess, it helped relieve some of my conscience, if I had any remaining.

I wanted to be better than what I am, but the quicksand that was my life diminished that desire.

I just about received my new shiny biography and had to study it a bit and make sure that I develop a relevant story around it. I immediately sent it out, and thankfully AI accepted the CV followed by the invite to an interview. They clearly didn't even bother to read it, just left it to AI to identify some keywords, but I didn't care. I started to dress up as the interview was in two hours.

I have put on my stockings and pen skirt as well as the plain gray blouse. It seemed that there would be snow, so I put over a large coat. I made sure that none of my hair were coming out, and that it was slicked to perfection in a bun.

Finally, I arrived at what was at least a 20-storage building.

The blue female android halted my steps.

 "Please wait for scanning."

I stared into the blue rays, scanning my iris.

"Thank you Ms.....Pamotia....citizen number...777...please come with me."

I walked down the hallway, and I noticed that almost no one was crossing paths with me. An occasional robot would be cleaning the hallway, but no human was seen.

"Please sit down Ms, and our staff will be with you... shortly."

I waited.

And waited.

They were late.

Finally, after a while, they came. A tall figure entered the room, only to be enhanced by the clicking sound of his shoes. My soul almost left my body when I saw that it was my target who was my interviewer.

This was such a bad idea.

With his strong presence, Ace's steps were confident and his head raised proudly. One of his hands was in his pocket and the left one had a notebook. His eyebrows furrowed as if he was deeply annoyed by something, and I suffered a small cut in my confidence when the same eyes refocused on me. 

I could only swallow at their intensity.

Everything about him exuded power, I realized then as I did now, why he was worth such a high amount.

The way he was assessing me with his steel gaze, didn't escape me, only adding fuel to my unsettled state of mind.

Freshly shaven, and with hair neatly combed, he looked every bit like a hologram or a genetically enhanced human. His posture was something I envied. For the reason my breasts developed earlier and larger than most of my peers for which I suffered great teasing, I had the tendency to slouch. So I reminded myself to mimic his posture, hopefully, to look equally matched at least in the impression department. Even though I could never be as intimidating.

Laser-focused eyes on me, observing me not in a way that a man would asses a woman, but rather, as a competitor? A threat?

Was I too hard in my demeanor? Can he see my intent? Will he recognize me?

Paranoia in me was reaching the boiling point, but I will be damned if I show it. 

I stood up and extended my arm, and with the most pleasant smile I could muster, I introduced myself.

"Hi, I am Margaret."

As if he reminded himself that he needed to be pleasant, he smiled and returned the gesture. The change in his demeanor gave me a whiplash. 

"Hello, I am Ace Montague. Nice to meet you, thank you for coming." Firm grip pressed against my hand. Unbotting the lowest button of his honeydew-colored jacket, he pointed with his palm as he sat down on his chair. He was still wearing the same cologne from that day, and this time, the top layers weren't combed back the way he usually appeared in the photographs.

"You are welcome. I was rather happy to know that you decided to have me today for the interview, so thank you."

Some seconds went by before he spoke, with a raised eyebrow.

"Have we met before? "