2026-04-25 14:30:08
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182. The end of the festival
Neko let out a sharp gasp, her breathing coming in heavy, jagged bursts. Her heart hammered against her ribs with a violence she’d never felt before. She looked down at herself. The knife had sliced through the air with impossible speed, etching itself through the fabric of her Thorn Princess dress and grazing the skin of her shoulder before burying itself deep into the wall behind her. It pinned her there like a butterfly in a display case.In all her years of assassination, she had never seen a blade thrown with such raw force and precision. Mark walked toward her, his hands tucked casually in his pockets as if they were just discussing the weather. "So... ready to talk? Or should I make sure the next one actually draws blood?"She looked up at him, her eyes wide with lingering shock. "W-who are you?" she stammered."Mark Reynolds," he replied easily. "Just an ordinary guy who’s going to be your future husband.""Hus—hus
181. An insult
As soon as Flynn vanished from the stage, Rita stepped into the spotlight, reclaiming her role as the festival's heartbeat."Well, that was a masterclass in drama, if I do say so myself!" she chirped into the mic. "But you know what else is top-tier? Lunchtime, baby! It’s time to raid the food stalls and see what Astras has to offer. Go get some skewers!"The crowd began to disperse, buzzing with excitement over the "stunning" special effects they’d just witnessed. Meanwhile, behind the heavy curtains, the atmosphere was far from celebratory. The background actors stood in confused clusters, whispering about the script's sudden, violent detour.Vincent, still in his waiter’s costume, did something that stunned everyone. He collapsed onto his knees in front of Mark and began to sob uncontrollably. "I’m sorry... I’m so sorry!" he wailed, his tears streaking through his heavy cosplay makeup."What is he doing?" one of the actors whispe
180. Off script
The scene on the massive LED screens shifted. A student playing the corrupt Minister stood atop a podium, his gold-trimmed mask catching the afternoon light as he raised a vintage glass. "To our partners," he toasted, his voice echoing with practiced arrogance. As the background actors paired off, Mark and Neko were left isolated in the center of the frame—two predators in a room full of prey. Their eyes locked behind their masks. They didn't know each other’s secret identities, but the script demanded they become a unit. Mark reached out, pulling Neko into a protective embrace just as the heavy double doors of the set were kicked open."INTRUDERS!" Izumi’s voice shrieked. She looked frantic on camera, leveling her prop weapon at the crowd. "We found the bodies! Agent Twilight is in the building! Lock the doors! No one leaves until every face is bared!"The "guests" erupted into a choreographed panic. On the giant screens, the audience watc
179. The Play Begins
{Two Days Ago: Sunday Evening}**Third Person POV**At the Simpson Estate in Westgate, Enny sat alone on a garden chair in the sprawling backyard. She watched the last embers of twilight fade as the darkness claimed the sky, stars beginning to lit overhead.She checked her watch, her leg tapping a restless rhythm against the lush lawn. Her patience was thin, and it was fraying by the second.Finally, the sound of muffled footsteps approached. A small, slight figure emerged from the shadows. Enny didn't wait for a greeting; she immediately scowled."You’re late.""My apologies. I had a minor complication during my previous contract," Neko replied, her voice a flat, neutral calm. She stepped into the light and sat across from Enny. Her hands were stained in crimson and wet with unmistakable blood. "The target was more resilient than anticipated. He put up a fight, but I took care of it."Enny rolled her eyes, a look o
178. Operation: Crimson Toast
An hour and a half. That’s how long it took for the makeup team to tint my hair to that specific shade of dull blonde. I’d fought them on it for the first forty minutes, but eventually, I just sighed and went with a "fuck it, let’s do this" attitude. Now, I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, and for a second, I didn't recognize the man staring back.If they ever made a live-action Spy x Family, the producers could stop searching. I was the perfect fit. My natural blue eyes already matched the character’s piercing gaze, but with my now blonde hair neatly combed back and my height filling out the silhouette, the resemblance was uncanny. The green three-piece suit hugged my body nicely. It felt broad at the shoulders and tapered at the waist. My jawline looked sharp enough to cut glass, and the straight bridge of my nose added that touch of aristocratic coldness Loid was famous for.I adjusted the red tie, tucking a small, silver lapel pin onto my collar. I looked polishe
177.
Clarice offered to drive me to the Academy, but I turned her down. A morning walk was exactly what I needed to clear my head, and her house which we’d spent the night in wasn't far from campus anyway. I stepped out into the crisp morning air wearing a navy Jordan tracksuit I’d borrowed—okay, stolen—from Steve's wardrobe. It was a little chilly, but the fleece kept the bite off, and my sneakers felt light on the pavement. The streets of Astras were just waking up. Small vendors were beginning to hoist their shutters and arrange their stalls as the first rays of the sun crested the horizon. As I passed through the market district, I noticed a pair of men freeze the moment they saw me. Simultaneously, they snapped into deep, respectful bows."Good morning, Master!" they chirped in unison.I squinted, slowing my pace. It took a second for the facial recognition to kick in. "Oh... wait. You’re the guys who were hassling those female middle schoolers the other day. Draco’s little slum-thu
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