Chapter 157: A Bloody Mess
Silence.
A reinforced prison cell.
Steel bars.
Stone walls.
Chains bolted into the floor.
The only sound—
A slow drip of water.
...
The assassin opened their eyes.
No expression.
No panic.
Only stillness.
The ropes remained.
The cuffs remained.
The chains remained.
For nearly a full minute—
Nothing moved.
Then—
A thumb bent the wrong way.
Crack.
The joint dislocated.
Without hesitation.
Without a single sound.
The hand became just small enough.
It slid through the iron cuff.
Skin tore.
Blood smeared across the metal.
The free hand reached over.
Grabbed the other thumb.
Crack.
The second joint came apart.
The remaining cuff slipped free.
The ropes came next.
The assassin's fingers worked methodically.
Every knot.
Every loop.
Every layer.
Undone.
Not hurried.
Not delayed.
Simply...
Efficient.
The ropes fell to the floor.
The assassin stood.
Slowly rotated both wrists.
Pop.
Pop.
The thumbs snapped back into place.
Perfectly aligned.
Footsteps echoed outside.
Two guards.
One laughed.
"...Can't believe Andrew wrapped that thing up like a present."
The other chuckled.
"Better safe than sorry."
Metal keys jingled.
One guard sighed.
"By the way..."
"They moved that weird scythe."
"Evidence warehouse."
"Captain's orders."
The assassin stood motionless behind the door.
Listening.
The lock clicked.
The first guard pushed the door open.
The room looked...
Empty.
"Huh?"
He stepped inside.
Confused.
A shadow moved.
One hand covered his mouth.
The other twisted.
Crack.
His neck folded sideways.
His body never hit the floor.
The assassin caught it.
Lowered it gently.
The second guard frowned.
"...Oi?"
No answer.
He stepped inside.
Too late.
A palm struck his throat.
His airway collapsed.
He clawed desperately.
Couldn't breathe.
Couldn't scream.
A knife appeared.
Not the scythe.
A tiny blade hidden inside a boot.
One clean motion.
Across the neck.
Blood painted the wall.
The body dropped.
Silence returned.
The assassin knelt beside the corpse.
Picked up the prison keys.
Unlocked the final restraints around the ankles.
The broken cuffs remained on the floor.
Bent.
Twisted.
Covered in blood.
The assassin walked into the hallway.
Another guard rounded the corner.
He opened his mouth.
Never finished.
A flash.
The knife disappeared into his eye.
His body collapsed before the alarm could be raised.
Another.
Another.
Each death happened before sound could travel.
The hallway slowly filled with bodies.
Footsteps.
Then nothing.
The prison doors creaked open.
A lone figure disappeared into the night.
Behind—
The cell remained open.
Blood slowly spread across the stone.
Broken restraints lay scattered across the floor.
As if they had never held anyone at all.