They called him Umbra. A phantom, a whisper in the dark, someone who could match S-rank mercs. He was a peculiar assassin who did not wish for money or gold; what he asked for in every mission was rare herbs or information about miracle doctors.
This time, Umbra had taken quite a serious job of killing a suspected S-rank merc. The employer this time had given him a bunch of rare herbs as a down payment, but the one he really wanted was the item that would be given to him upon completing the mission.
'I don't know why those mobsters want you dead so badly, but I will fulfill this mission.'
Umbra thought as he crouched on the edge of the rooftop, eyes locked on the boy below. The boy looked like he had so many openings that Umbra could kill him but if the boy was truly an S-rank level merc then that opening was a trap.
