Leonard's stomach let out a deep, gurgling growl, the noise practically echoing through his empty office as it disrupted his concentration. It had been nearly three hours since his last meal, which meant some sort of hearty snack was long overdue.

Sighing, he threw down the dossier on his next target that he'd grabbed from one of the information brokers. He briefly contemplated calling it a night and heading home to the nice juicy steak he'd had marinating for the last couple of hours, but this latest job required his full attention.

Sven Lindalh. A.K.A., Crush. Known brute class holder and a wielder of the Iron and Strength elements. Leonard scratched at his rough facial hair as he stared down at the sketch of the burly gang member. Based on the man's large stature and simple expression, one could easily mistake the man as little more than hired muscle. Yet according to the dossier, Crush acted practically as Draken's right hand, which meant this whole hit was far more complicated than what he regularly dealt with.

He didn't know why Eight had ordered him to go after one of Draken's men, and such an important one no less. But he'd been assigned the hit personally, and he knew better than to bother asking questions by now. Still, it was strange.

The Guild rarely risked angering Draken, and for obvious reasons. Not only had the man ruled the second largest gang in all of Whikoga's underworld, now the first after Loratta had fallen to him in battle, but he was a truthseeker-approved holder of a forbidden element. And not Shard or Blood or anything like that, but the Death element.

Leonard didn't care how tight a leash the truthseekers kept him on. Nobody wanted to be the one to anger someone capable of killing you with a mere thought.

The senior assassin imitated his own stomach as he read through his instructions for what had to be the tenth time, unconsciously letting out a growl from deep within his throat.

Kill the target when he is alone. Make a scene.

The additional instruction to 'make a scene' hadn't come as a surprise to him, because that was his usual M.O. regardless. Unlike many of the other cell leaders, Leonard was far less… subtle, of a killer than they were. No, the problem was that he needed to make a scene, but he also needed to make sure Draken couldn't trace this back to him specifically. He had no doubt in his mind Draken would take his revenge on whoever killed his top man, regardless of what orders the truthseekers had him following.

Another painful gurgle from his stomach tore him from his thoughts, and Leonard frowned. He went to grab some of the jerky strips he kept tucked away within his desk when he froze.

There was a familiar scent wafting through the distant air, carried impossibly through solid walls and locked doors thanks solely to his impressive skill. His unique elements had been what had given him the strength needed to rise through the ranks and become one of the cell leaders, and they never failed him when it came to detecting danger.

Sniffing, he got to his feet and wandered into the main room of their cell. Nobody was supposed to be here at the moment, but he could smell the unmistakable scent of one of his own quickly approaching the front door.

Trusting his nose, he walked over to the door and yanked it open, just in time to catch a startled Jennifer with her hand raised to give the secret knock. The young assassin flinched back in surprise, staring up at him with wide eyes.

"Why do you smell panicked?" he asked, taking in another deep breath through his nose and using his skill to parse through the many scents clinging to her body.

Fear. Uncertainty. Hope.

…A stranger.

"Apologies, leader, but can I come in?" Jennifer asked, throwing a quick look over her shoulder as if checking to make sure she hadn't been followed. Her actions all but confirmed what his own skill was already telling him, and he narrowed his eyes as he motioned for her to come in before locking the door once more.

"Who attacked you? Is the safehouse compromised?"

"How did you..?" realizing there was no point in asking, she nodded. "Yes, I was attacked within the safehouse. The man moved and acted like one of our own, and he even knew the code to gain entry. He tried getting information out of me, and when I realized he wasn't part of the Guild, he attacked. I barely managed to get away with my Dart Swap skill."

"Did you tell him anything?" Leonard asked, taking another deep breath in through his nose as he analyzed his subordinate. Fidgeting slightly, she shook her head.

"Of course not! I know what Eight would do to me if he found out."

Worry. Concern. Exhaustion. And… something else…

Something so subtle even his keen nose had almost missed it.

Leonard's nose never lied, and he had no doubt she had told the man everything she knew about the Guild. But it was entirely because of situations like this that the lower-tier members of the Guild weren't told anything of actual importance, and he had more important concerns at the moment than punishing one of his subordinates.

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"What can you tell me about the man that attacked you?" Leonard asked, slowly moving around the assassin as he continued sniffing, trying to figure out what that strange smell meant. He'd never smelled anything like it before, which was something that he hadn't experienced in many years.

"He had strange skills," Jennifer said, swallowing hard as she tried to keep her expression neutral and continue staring straight ahead. It was clear she wanted to turn and follow him as he walked behind her, but she didn't want to risk upsetting him and getting punished. "I didn't actually see him use it, but he can move around very quickly, almost like he's teleporting. And he can disappear, he used the skill to dodge my Death Darts. He might have some sort of warning skill as well, otherwise, I don't know how he reacted fast enough to dodge them at all."

"He can disappear?" Leonard repeated, cocking his head as he leaned down and took yet another long drag from the trembling assassin's body.

Some sort of… Imprint. What is this smell? It's almost like it's…

Permanent.

"You've been marked," Leonard finally said, taking a step back and giving her a sorrowful look. "By The Reaper himself, it sounds like."

"What do you mean?" Jennifer blanched, finally taking a shaky step back despite herself. "Who's 'The Reaper?'"

"A man that came out of seemingly nowhere and helped Draken take down Loratta the other week," Leonard said, ignoring his gurgling stomach and scratching his stubble as his mind whirled. "From what I've heard, he fought like a ghost, single-handedly taking down a number of Loratta's elites and a sizable portion of her chaff before Draken finished off the gang leader and the compound collapsed. I thought the rumors were a tad embellished, but in truth, he might actually be a ghost after all."

"Why do you say that?" Jennifer asked, her voice growing quiet as if afraid The Reaper would overhear her if she spoke too loudly.

"Because Eight informed the cell leaders that he'd personally dealt with the upstart a few days ago," Leonard said bluntly, barely noticing the absolute shock on Jennifer's face as he picked up on a new scent from somewhere outside, slowly heading toward them.

That confirms it. She's been marked alright.

"He's here," Leonard said, earning a quiet squeak from Jennifer as she frantically began looking around the room, a full eight glowing darts appearing between her fingers in anticipation. Leonard knew better than anyone just how deadly Jennifer's Death Darts could be. Realms, it was one of the reasons he kept her around despite her disposition towards what they do in the Guild not quite being up to snuff. But if The Reaper was capable of dodging that devastating attack, then she'd be nothing more than a distraction during the fight.

"Go hide in the bunker," he ordered, seeing her jump out of the corner of his eye as he turned his focus toward the front door. "If I fall, use your Dart Swap to get away and find one of the other cell leaders. Eight needs to know that his hit… failed."

Even the word tasted wrong to his tongue, but it was the truth. There was no mistaking the similarity between the strange scent outside and whatever mark had been placed on Jennifer. The girl was as good as dead, but at the very least she could deliver a message before her inevitable demise.

"Yes leader," she gulped, quickly turning and all but throwing herself down into the hidden bunker. Leonard was confident in his own abilities and didn't think he'd lose this fight, but only a fool didn't plan for every potential outcome.

While Jennifer vanished, Leonard's stomach growled even louder than it had before, and he grinned as he realized he'd be getting his anticipated meal sooner than he'd originally expected. As the smell got even closer, he activated his skill and started shifting.

Leonard's scruffy stubble began itching even worse as it started to grow, followed quickly by hair bursting out of every other portion of his body. He felt his very bones crack and stretch as his clothing tore and fell in tatters to the ground, unable to keep up with the size of his battle-form. The few people that had personally witnessed his Wolf Walker skill had told him he transformed into a horrifying demon of a monster, but Leonard was quite a fan of the new look.

As well as all the perks that came with it.

Flexing his dagger-like claws, he snarled, letting his tongue drape over his serrated teeth as he waited for The Reaper to finally show himself. The man might be capable of vanishing from sight, but hiding from Leonard's nose was another matter entirely.

The Wolf element was not only rare, but exceedingly dangerous as well, to both the element holder and those around them. Like most beast elements, it just about always came with a shifting-based skill, and unless one had trained their mind to keep their newfound animal instincts in check, the element holder was just as likely to turn on their friends as they were their opponents. Of course, Leonard was more than capable of keeping his focus on the mission and it had been years since he'd accidentally disemboweled one of his subordinates, but he still preferred fighting in a one versus one like this.

It meant he could finally go all out without worrying about collateral damage.

"Show yourself!" he all but howled at the scent waiting for something on the other side of the front door. He was tempted to tear through the secured door himself in his hunger for battle, but he wanted to savor this meal, and he admittedly had a few questions of his own he needed to ask The Reaper before he ripped the man's throat out. As far as Leonard was aware, nobody had ever managed to survive a hit from Eight. Sure, people were aware of his deadly concoctions, but that was only because of the few times Eight had bothered to kill nobles, who had then been resurrected and spread word of their demise. Either The Reaper was a damned noble, which raised about a thousand other questions, or he had some never before seen method of surviving Eight's magadrine powder.

And if such a method existed, Leonard wanted it.

After all, who knew when he'd eventually have to turn against the hand that fed him?

Finally, The Reaper answered his call. Leonard blinked as the man's smell suddenly became extremely faded, almost seeming to vanish for a split second, before reappearing.

On the other side of the door, and standing directly before him.

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