Start

It is yet early but I am already at the gym. Alone. To learn which I should use today. I strolled around it, the brands of the equipments didn't escape my eyes. I let my fingers glide on every piece I see.

"Expensive… durable and high quality," I confirmed my thought.

He spent billions of dollars to shelter and provide the best for his people, and he never ever gave me a single penny. Isn't he so sweet?

Perhaps he knows I wouldn't accept it anyway. I'll die out of hunger and will not receive any from him.

I don't need his money.

German said much pride won't take me up the road.

Hence, it's been one of my main drivers to surviving the past years. I couldn't see myself standing firm without it.

The gym they have in here is three times larger than my gym. It is equipped with better accessories and pieces of equipment. I rolled my eyes to the large boxing ring in the center and realized that there is where I should use my energy today.

I bended to enter the ring and saw that despite of the obvious fights that are marked in here, the quality is still so fine and perfect for anyone who wants to use it. It is actually my first time to get in here because I've never really wanted to step a foot on this place— yet now I am in here. My effort to not be tainted as his puppet is all thrown to waste.

I jumped and stretched my arms for a warm-up. I do not need gloves now. I positioned myself to prepare for a punch.

1.

I punched the bag once to try to see its performance. I grinned.

2.

I punched it again and the punching bag moved at my punch.

3.

I punch stronger than the latter and tilted my neck because the momentum is getting in me.

4.

I tried once again and notice how my fist is instantly red now.

This is fun.

"Five" I breathed.

I punched it hard with all of my might and got really hyped when I felt my hand badly ache for the impact of the punch. That was a great punch!

I used all my hours in the ring when I suddenly felt eyes watching me. I punched once more before I decided to stop, for the person to know that I am already aware of her presence now.

"So, it is true that the reaper is finally here," someone said and I immediately sensed something in her voice. It is laced with hostility and is belittling.

I am feeling sweat all over my body. The white loose shirt I am wearing is already soaked with my sweat, making it hug my body. I controlled my heavy breathing. Seems like someone badly wants to be a reaper here. Too bad for her because I am forcedly appointed to be in that position.

Why didn't she offer herself to them then? I would be all grateful about me not having to be in here— training, to kill people— if she just offered herself effectively.

I didn't answer back because I am afraid she would cry once I open my mouth.

And speaking is a tiring job for me. Especially for someone nonsense.

I waited for her steps but she didn't make one.

"You are just a good-for-nothing scheming bitch," she said, reflecting her view of me.

Wow. I already have a hater here.

Am I a scheming bitch? Yes.

But unlike how she described me, I am definitely not good-for-nothing.

I turned to look at her as I felt the urge to talk back at her with her statement. She looks pathetic talking to none.

I turned to meet a pretty blonde girl who looks so offended and pissed. She is definitely a barbie doll. It seems like she just went home and went directly here to confront me, and my speculation is based on her clothes and bit disheveled hair.

Definitely pretty but with no brain.

My blank stare heightened compared to her angry blazing eyes. That's why I do not want to engage myself with girl talks. They tend to get easily irritated, fake, and insecure.

"Says the wannabe-reaper-who-is-not-qualified bitch."

Her mocking expression changed abruptly because obviously, she is the mocked one right now. And that's a critical blow. She better not bitchfit on me for she'll get foul words.

"What did you just say?!" her voice is critical now.

I didn't answer her back because I just don't want to. I should save my saliva for some important arguments. This is not one of those.

This is plainly useless. Petty.

In fact, based on her expression, she heard it clearly. If not, she wouldn't be that pissed, glaring at me right now. I just stared boredly at her like she is some uninteresting thing that's ever presented in front of my eyes.

Is she still not done? I wanted to face the punching bag again. She clenched her jaw before she matched my blank stare with a serious one.

Is she a mood shifter? That was a fast transition, I'm amazed.

But I can say it isn't a flawless one.

"You should be ready for me." she finally said before she walked out of the room.

Be ready for what? Catfight? Oh, I am not fond of that.

I turned back to the punching bag and proceeded to continue my interrupted activity.

-

After I was done with the gym, I proceeded to go back to my room to freshen myself up. I attended my hand and applied something to mend the redness and bruises I acquired.

It is a great feeling to see marks of what you've successfully worked on.

I didn't cover it up, instead, I let it be exposed because I couldn't find the need to hide it. This will heal soon anyway.

I wore my all-black shirt and pants and thought of talking to Rene now. It is still 4:12 in the morning, too early for a normal breakfast, but I wasn't on the normal place and normal crowd so I assumed most of them are awake by now.

I strolled up to the ground floor to go directly to the cafeteria. I saw Rene at the far table, peacefully eating his breakfast before I stormed in, to disturb him from getting one.

Most of the table is already filled with people. A lot turned their head in my direction and only a few continued eating- undisturbed.

And that includes Rene and the unfamiliar guy last night.

So he is really a part of the mafia.

But why I haven't seen him in any event?

With years of attending, instead of socializing around, I found myself fond of silently familiarizing the members of the mafia. And that became a useful hobby to me. So, I am curious on why I didn't seem to know him. Everyone is required to attend a mafia event and I always roam my eyes to recognize new ones.

He is sitting at the table alone, with a distance far from everyone. One with his own world.

I seated immediately when I reached Rene's table but he didn't even lift his eyes off his food. I created a sound on his table when I tapped my fingers on it like I am playing some piano keys. Successfully, he lifted his eyes on me. I noticed him taking his time glancing at my hands.

Perhaps my tapping bothered him.

But after a while, he did return his eyes back on his food. There is much food on his plate that I think if I would wait for him to finish it, it would take a while. Adding that he is devouring his food at a slow pace. I am about to speak up but he spoke first.

"Where's your food?"

"I am not here to eat," I said.

"I am not gonna talk to someone who has no plans on eating," he uttered which made me twitch my lips.

Huh? But I am really not here to eat.

At the mention of it, I saw someone place two plates on the table. Someone dared to stand beside me.

A familiar scent enveloped my nose.

"Are you sure you would like to sit beside me?" I simply coldly asked the man that is suddenly beside me.

His smile faded and he proceeded to carry the two plates, silently placing them beside Rene. I ignored his whole existence until I noticed what he is busy doing, in my peripheral vision.

He is slowly pushing the other plate he carried earlier towards me. Little by little.

My eyes darted at his hand. He immediately pulled back the plate beside his plate.

I can't believe there is someone more childish than Mark here. Considering he is a known person the mafia has.

"You always have the hots for me," he started a conversation which I ignored.

I stared at Rene and saw him completely ignoring me now. I know he would really stand to not talk to me if I wouldn't obey him.

"Rene," I tried to talk to him again but he just ignored me.

The guy beside him moved his eyes on Rene then back at me.

"Mister Guard, the lady is talking to you," the guy informed Rene.

I thought he would also just ignore him so I feel attacked when Rene stopped eating his food just to pay attention and talk with him.

"I am not going to talk to someone who has no plan to eat food during my meal. At my table." Rene replied back and proceeded to eat again.

I gritted my teeth.

I unwillingly reached the plate the guy is giving me earlier and promptly put a spoonful of rice in my mouth. I watched how the guy's lips stretch for a smile.

I let him see my cold eyes.

He then picked his spoon and fork up, but the smile is still not being removed on his lips.

I grabbed the given knife on the plate. Should I just throw this knife in his lips?

I used the knife to slice the meat on my plate. I just didn't eat mine peacefully since someone is obviously stealing glances at me, while Rene seems to be so focused eating his meal. I finished my meal first even with that though. I waited for Rene to finish his food, patiently. He grabbed his glass and drank on it thrice.

"What do we have to talk about?" he asked me after he is done with his drink.

I glanced at the other guy on the table who is obviously eavesdropping. He caught me looking at him so he immediately fixed his gaze out of my orbs. A little whistle reached my ears.

"I wanted your expertise on swords. Train me." I declared to open up my plan.

He is serious as he held my eyes. He leaned his whole back on the chair. "I can't give you training like before anymore,"

I know that he is aware of what I mean but he shifted the topic on our before trainings, which is very far from the reality we are having right now.

I am not that innocent and naive girl anymore.

And he is not what he made me believe years ago.

Before, he made me believe like he is just an ordinary sword coach who knows things about swords. We have our scheduled training lessons at home. He thought me how to hold it. How to control it. And when it should be used.

That it should only be used to protect yourself and your loved ones.

I found all of it a bluff the moment I saw him kill lots of people during the mafia's missions- and a normal sword coach couldn't do that. It is then I learned that what he is and what I thought on his knowledge about swords is just a shallow part of his real identity. He is not just a knowledgeable sword coach.

He is the mafia's retired reaper.

"I don't want you to train me like before. I am not a clueless kid anymore."

I traced all the cuts and scars his body acquired. I am not afraid to acquire more of that just to reach my goal.

"I want you to train me as a mafia reaper."