Farewell, John Smith

JOHN SMITH

The Great Commerce Alliance had officially entered full-blown panic mode. They were throwing every warm body they had into a frantic hunt for the source of those Counterfeit Notes, but they were way too late. All they really accomplished was making a massive scene and signaling to the world that something was very, very wrong.

The news wasn't public yet, but anyone with two brain cells to rub together could tell the economy was about to tank. Doubt was starting to cloud the faces of people holding those useless scraps of paper. Time was up. The big collapse was basically standing on their doorstep, ready to kick the door in.

"Halt! This carriage is under inspection!"

It was the middle of the night on a road leading out of the Royal Capital. A pack of goons had blocked my path. They were private muscle for the Garter Company, stopping every suspicious-looking wagon they could find. They didn't have any legal authority to do this, obviously, but when you're backed by the Great Commerce Alliance, people tend to just shut up and obey.

I had my driver stop. I’m a professional, after all.

One of the Garter Company thugs reached for the carriage cover with all the grace of a drunken ogre.

"I’d stop if I were you..." I said.

"Huh?" The guy paused, squinting into the shadows.

"You’ll only end up regretting it," I added, keeping my voice low and mysterious. I was really nailing the brooding elite-agent vibe.

"Pfft. Whatever."

He snorted at my perfectly executed warning and yanked the cover open. His eyes went wide the second he saw the mountains of Gold Coins inside. It was the last thing he ever saw, mostly because that’s when his head left his body.

"Wh—!?"

"I told you," I sighed. "You’d regret it."

He hit the dirt in a spray of gore. I stepped out of the shadows, looking sharp in my Black Suit and mask.

"Y-you! Who the hell are you!?" the other thugs screamed, drawing their swords.

"I am John Smith. Save your regrets for the afterlife."

"What—!?"

A few strands of Steel Wire shimmered in the moonlight, though none of these extras were fast enough to actually see them. They didn't know a thing. They didn't even realize they were dead until their heads were already mid-air.

A Rain of Blood splattered across the road as the carriage started rolling again. I let it gain speed, standing alone amidst a pile of headless corpses. I flexed my fingers, dancing them through the air like I was playing a masterpiece on a phantom piano, retracting the invisible wires.

Then, I sensed a presence.

"I know you're there..." I said to the empty air. I love that line. It never gets old.

I lashed out with my Steel Wire, slicing through the darkness. Something moved—fast.

A woman stepped out of the shadows. She was wearing a black bodysuit that looked more like a designer dress than combat gear. A mask hid her face, but those piercing Blue Eyes were unmistakable.

"A pleasure to meet you, John Smith," she said. Her voice was like a silver bell—elegant, calm, and way too composed. She gave me a polite bow, her Platinum Hair shimmering under the moon.

"And also... goodbye."

In a blur of motion, her Jet-black Blade whistled through the air, aimed right for my throat.