The sun peaked high in the air, its heat bringing judgment to the city.

  Hezekiah wiped the sweat off his brow, lowering his hood to the wind’s breeze.

  I might have to take this damn hoodie off. I may have made the clothing resistant to flames, but I should’ve included basic temperature regulation.

  Headquarters was still a while away, but its structure dwarfed the towers in its area. He would’ve taken the bus, but all his belongings were gone after his revival, including his money.

  Hezekiah observed the Sunset’s Garden skyscraper in the distance, digesting the fact of how open they were. Hardly anyone would’ve guessed a ring of assassins reported there daily. But the fact that most employees were genuine cell phone technicians and salesmen, made it easy to keep up the front.

  The plan isn’t complicated. Just walk inside, and create a rule that will help me find Falina the fastest. They won’t be as brazen as Cevine to attack me in the open, let alone in their public lobby.

  “Help! Stop him!”

  A tall man burst from one of the alleyways, bleeding from his forehead. He glanced both ways before sprinting in his direction. Items fell out of the bag—he paused—hesitating before dashing off.

  “Dang, watch it man!” someone yelled after being almost rammed. Bystanders hastily cleared the way, some yanking their kids to the side.

  A foot stuck out from the crowd, tripping the individual. “Aw shit!” He barreled against the pavement, almost colliding with Hezekiah.

  Idiot. You should’ve seen that coming.

  “You scum! Give me back my purse if you don’t want to be torn a new one!” a woman in a leather jacket approached with a rock in hand. A couple of bruises covered her face, yet a certain attraction still followed.

  “That was your target? You must’ve been desperate,” Hezekiah spoke.

  The thief frowned, quickly reaching his feet. “Don’t talk like you know me.”

  —Name: Sarold Vaguysus—

  —Age: 20—

  —Blood Type: O—

  —Occupation: Unemployed—

  —Public Status: Alive—

  —Do you wish to perform a deep search?—

  “You mean your name isn’t Sarold? The man who steals because he doesn’t have a job?”

  His pupils constricted. “Hold on! How do you—”

  A stone crashed into the back of his skull, rendering him unconscious as he dropped headfirst against the concrete. The rock fell by Hezekiah’s feet, along with medications that spilled out of the bag.

  Mood stabilizers? How unlucky were you, man?

  The woman shook her wrist before kicking the man’s hand off her bag.

  “A little bit more force and you probably could’ve killed him.”

  The woman wrapped her purse around her, leaving the pills on the ground.

  “What do I care? I think I would’ve liked that.” She opened her bag, rummaging through old receipts and parking tickets.

  “Rats—it’s not freakin here! Check to see if he has a wallet on him.”

  “Why? It’s your stuff. You search him.” Hezekiah continued ahead.

  Her face tensed. “Not gentleman-like at all.” She flipped the man over, emptying his pockets.

  So be it. What the hell were you doing in the back alley anyway?

  As he was wondering, he felt his foot kick something.

  “A wallet? That guy was too much of an amateur. He should’ve paid attention to what was falling out of the purse.” Around him was jewelry, band-aid packets, and other useless junk.

  He glanced behind him—She’s still searching him? Did you forget you have all this crap here?

  He picked up her wallet, a plastic card partially stuck out.

  An ID card? This doesn’t look government-issued based on the border color. Don’t tell me she’s running around with an obvious fake.

  He slid the card out, loose change falling from the crevice and rolling into a sewer.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  Huh? They didn’t look like this before I died.

  “Hey, that doesn’t belong to you! I knew I shouldn’t have—”

  “Irva’s a nice name. And you’re also a sales representative of Peak Connection?” He asked, inspecting the contents of the ID.

  The woman’s heels clacked against the concrete. “Stop looking through my stuff!” She snatched the wallet and ID card out of his hand, quickly counting her dollar bills. “Scram off, don’t you have the slums to be going to?”

  “Actually, it just so happens I’m switching network providers. I saw your ID looked familiar and just wanted to confirm for myself.”

  Her doubt was on full display. “You’re full of shit.”

  He couldn’t deny that, but getting a normal employee to escort him there would make them more hesitant to try something along the way. But out of all the employees he saw, it was the first time seeing her.

  “You get a 15% commission if I buy the highest plan, correct? Consider it as payment for my rudeness earlier.”

  The woman picked up her belongings. “Is sounding insincere natural to you?”

  “It’s a bad habit.” His iris shone a dull red. “I can find someone else if it bothers you.”

  Irva scanned him from top to bottom before wrapping her purse around her shoulder.

  “Now that I look at you, you don’t look broke. And I doubt those contacts you have were cheap. Fine, let’s do it here, no need to waste time walking all the way over there.”

  Right. I forgot that wasn’t necessary, and I don’t have the money on me to buy anything. Though it probably doesn’t matter now.

  —Name: ???—

  —Age: ??—

  —Blood Type: ?—

  —Occupation: N/A—

  —Public Status: Dead—

  —Do you wish to perform a deep search?—

  I didn’t expect that this eye would fail to identify someone. Knowing it had limits would’ve been nice. But not only does it not know her name, it’s saying she’s dead. What’s her deal, and why is she working as a sales rep for the organization’s front?

  A lot of questions arose. He wished he had pulled her information earlier, but having her walk with him there wouldn't be a good idea now. But there’s something he wanted to check ever since he obtained this eye lens.

  “Cutting to the chase, I like it. But I heard there was a discount if I buy a certain phone cover along with the highest plan. It’s cool if we head to the location, right?”

  Irva sighed, her displeasure evident. “And here I thought you had a decent income. Whatever, as long as you pay I won’t call the police about you trying to steal my wallet.”

  She began to walk past him, waving her phone in front of him.

  “Doing stuff like that is how you get your phone stolen you know. But thanks for accompanying me.”

  Perform a deep search.

  —Basic Profile of ???—

  —Parents: ???—

  —Siblings: ???—

  —Birth: ???—

  —Illnesses: Intermittent Explosive Disorder—

  —Do you wish to perform an External Analysis?—

  That explains the mood stabilizers, but I doubt she’s a genuine employee. And given how she struggled against the thief, she’s not cut out to be a Black Flower. Just who the hell is this “Irva,” and why are there discrepancies with her occupation?

  Her nails tapped against her phone screen, intently absorbed in her message app, until they reached a bridge.

  Hezekiah neared beside her, matching her pace.

  “Letting them know you want to clock in?” he asked, looking over her shoulder.

  She palmed her screen. “Are you going to be annoying the whole way!? And stop standing so close, I can’t stand that stench of yours.”

  I washed these clothes with the Custom Boundary back in the subway tunnel, stop being dramatic. Wait, how long has it been since I personally cleaned myself? I’ve been dead for two weeks, right? And even Amelia said I smelled terrible when I first arrived in the hospital.

  “That’s a rude way to speak to a customer.”

  She tucked her phone away and pulled a miniature container from her bag, jabbing it into his chest.

  “It’s also rude to walk around with poor hygiene. I can’t stand people who don’t take that seriously! The least you can do is spray some perfume.”

  Hezekiah waved her hand away. “Ink scent? There’s no way you’re into this kind of stuff. Wouldn’t expect a woman to carry that around, or anyone for that matter.”

  “Stop being stubborn!!” She squeezed the top, spraying the mist all over him.

  Hezekiah squinted his eyes, grabbing the bottle and tossing it over the bridge, its contents sinking beneath the river.

  “Are you crazy!? Do you want to stink all day that badly!” she shouted in disbelief.

  Hezekiah remained silent and walked out the mist like nothing happened.

  Irva clenched her purse tightly. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Don’t you think you’re being weird!?”

  Hezekiah stopped and freed a deep breath, before turning towards her.

  “And what about yourself? Peak Connection has a high reputation for providing the best customer service. It’s impossible to believe that you passed their screening process, especially with your disorder.”

  Their background checks ran deep. They would know about her disorder even if she didn’t provide it. Even hiring her would be a risk despite her having medication.

  She tensed her shoulders. “What do you mean by my disorder?”

  Hezekiah held his words in thought, contemplating if it was time to proceed.

  “Why don’t you drop the act. Who are you really?”

  Her brows raised, taking a step back—she noticed no one was around. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you can forget about the commission. It’s not that important to me.”

  “You expect me to believe—” his surroundings started to melt, like ice under the sun. His stomach suddenly twisted inside, as his chest tightened and burned. He stumbled against the railing, trying his best to focus his vision through his metallic lens. “What’s going on? I made sure to—”

  “Hold my breath?” Irva finished, withdrawing a small knife from her purse pocket. “Wonderful, the effects are setting in. You were right to be suspicious of the perfume, but I already accounted for that.”

  “You can’t possibly be a Black Flower. Were you trained in secret?”

  “All you need to know is we’re what’s required, when it’s time to properly dispose of traitors such as yourself.”