Within the CEO room of the corporate building of a massive company, a man sat. He looked to be quite aged, having white hair and a mustache, but his skin was actually quite young. He sat within his large leather chair, seemingly quite comfortable, but his expression was anything but. His eyes held worry in them, and a slight sadness that was usually never found in this ingenious and crafty assassin's gaze.
His name was Anthrax—or rather, that was his alias. The number one assassin of the underground at the time, and despite his usually gentlemanly and almost playful manner of executing targets, his skill in assassination was unparalleled… mostly. His real name was Giovanni Vittori, but no one knew that except his one and only student—and also the only person who he believed would be able to succeed him as the world's best assassin.