A Girl and A Hitman - Chapter 1

“How did you avoid everything?”

“Well, wasn’t it your skill that was lacking?”

Midnight, the edge of the city. A decaying, dead building. An office that has turned from a place for society’s elite to a hangout for outlaws. Countless bullet holes remain on the walls. In front of them stands a girl who still looks like a high school student. She is unscathed, having fired all her remaining bullets.

“It’s the first time I couldn’t kill with a gun.”

I never expected to be dealing with a girl in a school uniform. I put the gun back in my pocket. It’s not a big one, but it has enough killing power. If it hit, she wouldn’t be able to act the way she is now.

Personally, I can’t hide my surprise. “If I had received special forces training from a certain country’s organization or the federation I belong to,” it’s a speed I could avoid, but I don’t think my skills are that bad, as she said. She glanced outside the building for a moment and then quickly returned her gaze to me.

“You’ve already killed so many people, haven’t you?”

The target girl raised her hands and said, pretending to be scared. Despite raising her hands, she didn’t seem to have any intention of surrendering. The girl lowered her hands. It’s not something I can understand now, but can even an ordinary person recognize the movements of a hitman’s eyes, or is it just nonsense? I shift my perception of her from an ordinary person to a “swift target.” The term “target” is used out of respect. If a gun won’t do, then I have no

“Are you good at martial arts?”

Earlier, I said it was the first time I couldn’t kill with a gun, but while there have been times I’ve missed with a technique, I’ve never ultimately let someone live. For some reason, I felt a slight sense of discomfort, but it shouldn’t be there. The sheer number of corpses piled up must have made even that ambiguous. “No matter who they are,” I have no intention of letting them escape.

“Just as I thought, you’re trying to kill me.”

A moment. This word is perhaps the most fitting to describe it. I moved in front of the girl and threw a punch at the same speed. If she hadn’t foreseen my sudden attack and couldn’t keep up with that speed, it would have been an unavoidable attack. However, the punch missed. Dodged, dodged, dodged. Naturally. The girl was moving at the same speed as me. After hundreds of attacks, my breath was lightly heaving after twenty seconds. Feeling that further attacks would

“That’s too bad.”

I have never been dodged like this before. Even if I was dodged, it was only for the first few shots. No matter how skilled they were, they couldn’t keep up after that and ended up dead at my hands. After dodging all of that, the girl said without changing her expression. There was even a sense of divinity in it. It made me feel the absolute difference. I clearly understood that with my current skills, I couldn’t kill this girl. It was something that should have

Despair arose within me. If I weren’t the strongest assassin, what value would I have as a “nothing”? I grit my teeth and think of my next move; countless ways to kill her come to mind, yet in the final image, I can’t bring myself to kill her. I’m out of reach. I relax my combat stance and stand straight. She looked at me, and for some reason, she seemed lonely.

“Who is the client?”

The girl said it as if she had no interest. But I was trembling. Having initiated the killing, I was not in a position to complain if I were to be killed in return. At this moment, it was even possible for her to take my life. Her skill level was not yet known. If she were to make a move to attack, there might be an opportunity to kill her, but having dodged such attacks, she would likely not make a reckless offensive. If that were the case,

“I can’t say that.”

Even if I were to be killed by her here. I thought I would at least maintain my pride as a professional. I had never been particularly attached to my own life; I would attempt some resistance, but as an assassin, I was interested in being killed by a technique that surpassed my own.

After receiving those words, she stared at me intently for a few dozen seconds, then nodded slightly and took a candy out of her pocket. She unwrapped it and popped the light blue, crystal-like candy into her mouth. I just watched her do it. Then, for a brief moment, she had a slightly disappointed expression. No matter how hard people try to suppress their emotions, they inevitably show on their faces. The time it takes to hide them can be shortened through training. She must have undergone

“I see, well then, goodbye.”

Was there really a need for her to deliberately take out the candy in front of me? Did she have that much confidence, or was she intentionally showing a gap in her defenses? I had no idea, but the girl calmly walked out of the abandoned building. I watched her leave and sighed. It was the first time I had failed to kill someone. I felt like I had been trapped in an illusion. I had heard that there are people in the same line of work who specialize in brain attacks like brain