Portgas D. Ace X Reader - The boy from the church

12

Mihawk bowed down to the men who greeted him at the door of the house he was invited to. Little did he know, that that was the most respect he was about to be given by any person by the end of that day. It was a cold, peaceful winter evening, a perfect day to stay home and enjoy the holidays with loved ones, and everyone there was irritated because they weren't doing that, but having to attend an emergency meeting, which is something Mihawk and the others cannot cancel this time. Without further talks, Mihawk insisted to know what the fuss was all about.

"People talk, Mihawk, and I'm the one listening. You know why I hired you, old man." the menacing man said.

"Sir... I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Nonsense." he interrupted the golden eyed man. "I need an explanation."

Mihawk was eyeing the guards sitting on the sides of the room, confused, looking for an answer to provide for his boss, and one of the guards even raised his shoulders in response to the man's body language. He realized they were all just some pawns in this masterful game of his, including Mihawk. 

"Sir, everything is under control. I did not let anything slip out of my hands, I swear! I know what I have to do..." Mihawk sounded desperate, but that did not impress his boss at all. 

Actually, he was even angrier now, thinking that his subordinates are lying to him. The man rose from his seat, knees cracking and exhaling loudly, and got close to the golden eyed man, frowning at his disoriented face.

"And what do you do exactly?" he spoke, and Mihawk could smell his rusty, alcohol flavored breath.

"I'm an assassin, sir. That's my job."

"And when I told you that your job is to kill Ace,"  he said, yelling the last two words, causing him to flinch, "what part did you not understand?"

Mihawk tried to keep his calm, while he was sweating below his coat. He relaxed all his muscles so that he wouldn't shiver, while the creepy man was running a pocket knife through his throat, slitting a part of his skin. Mihawk closed his eyes and let it all happen, not daring to move. He knew that not doing his job meant the end of him, so he decided to swallow his pride and reminded himself once again that he is just a tool made for killing. He was not allowed to invest in emotional relationships with his clients, or else, he'll lose his life.

"I understand it, sir. I need to find the perfect time, that's it." Mihawk responded in a softer tone, letting out a small voice crack.

"I know what you're capable of, old man. You take between 1 to 3 weeks to kill someone. Does that kid pose a threat to you or something? Is he hard to kill? Last time I checked, he was still skinny and powerless." the man spoke in a childish tone, asserting his dominance. Before the golden eyed man could answer, the man took a paper scroll out of his pocket and started reading it. "I quote from your resume: <<If the individual is dangerous, or if they benefit from maximum security services, the price and the time for the assassination raise accordingly.>>. Now, tell me, how is Ace dangerous?"

"It is true that he has a long criminal record, sir. I heard that he owns a few guns, too. He knows how to defend himself, this is not an easy task." he responded, although he wanted to continue saying that if every one of his customers would act like this, he wouldn't be working in the field in the first place. Now he wishes he didn't shake hands with this man. Things got a lot more dirtier than they should, now that his friend, Shanks, was helping Ace. But now, refusing to kill him meant committing suicide.

"I'd advise you to mind who you're discussing your plans with. I suspect that we're not the only ones knowing about this contract, is that right? Your red haired friend, perhaps?"