Chapter 93: Rest
The air in the motel room was sharp as he registered the presence of ten assassins concealed in the corners of the room. The veiled woman before him, also cloaked in black.
"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice steady but edged with suspicion. The bartender wouldn’t have assigned him an occupied room by mistake. He was sure she was here on purpose.
"I’m here to form a partnership," the woman replied, rising from her chair and gesturing for him to sit. Her voice was unmistakable, the same one that had answered his inquiries at the information agency.
Baines’s eyes narrowed. "And why?" He didn’t wait for her response, moving to his bed and pulling out fresh clothes. With deliberate nonchalance, he began changing.
The woman faltered, momentarily thrown by his casual disregard. "So you can have a backer," she said, regaining her composure. "We’ll provide any information you desire."
"Why?" Baines repeated, his tone flat as he fastened his shirt, his gaze finally meeting hers. The shadows in the room stirred, the hidden assassins tensing at his words.
"Eh?" The woman’s voice betrayed a flicker of shock. ’Did he not hear me?’ "I just said—"
"Why would you think I need you?" Baines cut her off, his eyes cold and piercing. The question hung in the air, heavy with implication.
But truly, what made her think he needed her? He had only bought information; he swore he could’ve gotten in any other decent information agency, because it was the only place he knew about.
Besides, that wasn’t all. Before long, these people would know his true self and later, everything about him. And as an information agency, that piece of information would sell for an enormous amount. So why should he keep using them?
Without waiting for her response, Baines pulled out the clone from Wick and laid it on the bed. He opened the window and vanished into the night, leaving the woman staring in stunned silence.