New York. Inside a luxury hotel suite.
Hunter lay in bed, his arm wrapped around Perkins. The gorgeous assassin looked utterly exhausted, yet her eyes were filled with a deep, unmistakable satisfaction.
"So, what do you need?" Hunter finally asked, now that they had thoroughly finished their "reunion."
A few hours ago, Hunter had been going over the Continental dossiers, preparing to hunt down the final three board members of Hicks Consulting to finish his revenge.
Right in the middle of his prep, he received an unexpected call from Perkins.
She asked if he was free and wanted to meet up.
Hunter asked a few questions, confirmed she was currently in New York, and less than half an hour later, they met in this hotel room.
Given their long separation, words had quickly given way to action.
One thing led to another, and several hours had vanished.
"You have zero romance in you," Perkins grumbled playfully, rolling her eyes.
Having rested a bit, she finally regained some of her strength.
"I've heard the rumors," she said, tracing a finger down his chest. "You've been making a massive mess lately, Hunter."
"You had all this free time to wage a one-man war, but you didn't think to call me? You could have at least helped me with a contract while you were at it."
Hunter didn't bother validating that with a response. The last time he "helped" her with a contract, he ended up shooting down a DoD helicopter, which put him on the radar of the CIA, which led to a Hicks Consulting hit squad raiding Slattery's apartment.
He was currently cleaning up the mess she got him into.
"Come on, help a girl out..."
Seeing his unbothered silence, Perkins grew slightly anxious.
She always knew this handsome Asian man was highly capable. She had experienced his lethal skills firsthand when he nearly killed her during their first encounter.
But comparing that to the rumors she had gathered over the past two weeks... he had clearly been hiding his true strength.
Perkins was a professional assassin and a full member of the Continental. Because of her "deep" relationship with Hunter, she had actively investigated the whispers circulating the underworld.
The results of her investigation made her look at him in an entirely new light.
She had always liked him well enough—he was incredibly strong, heavily endowed, and kept her well-fed in every sense of the word. Given the choice, she was more than eager to latch onto a thigh this thick.
She let out an annoyed huff to express her dissatisfaction, but her eyes quickly darted around.
A moment later, the supermodel-gorgeous assassin slid entirely under the heavy duvet.
Hunter stiffened slightly as his weakness was immediately captured. He glanced down at the shifting lump under the blanket, then calmly reached over to the nightstand, lit a cigarette, and exhaled a long cloud of smoke.
Half an hour later, Perkins emerged, wiping her mouth.
"Well?" she purred. "Will you help me one more time?"
Feeling entirely refreshed, Hunter finally relented, though he didn't give a flat yes.
"Tell me the details of the contract first. I have other things I need to wrap up soon. If it's not too complicated, I'll take care of it for you."
"Really?!"
Perkins beamed. "Don't worry, with your skills, this job is going to be incredibly easy..."
After resting and recovering a bit more stamina, the deeply missing Perkins initiated another round of negotiations. Soon, the two were communicating deeply once again.
Evening.
Shortly after leaving the hotel, Hunter felt the familiar prickle at the back of his neck.
Someone was watching him.
He frowned slightly but didn't break his stride, nor did he alter his path to find a dark alley to pull his motorcycle from his [Inventory].
He maintained a steady, unhurried pace, his enhanced senses extending outward, systematically scanning his surroundings.
Ever since embarking on his solo crusade against Hicks Consulting, Hunter had taken a few hits, but he had also grown exponentially.
His five core attributes were already far beyond normal limits. Over the last two weeks of constant, high-stress combat, he had finally learned how to effectively utilize the full potential of his superhuman physiology.
His eyes swept over every rooftop, window, and shadowed doorway that could harbor a sniper or an ambush.
Yet, as he walked, the sensation of being watched never vanished, but his internal "danger premonition" never flared up.
"Strange."
He was followed all the way back to the separate hotel where he was actually staying.
The feeling of being watched only dissipated completely after he entered the lobby and stepped into the elevator.
Hunter slept lightly that night.
The next day, he didn't open his eyes until the sun was high in the sky. He climbed out of the bathtub, having slept there as a tactical precaution.
He stretched his stiff joints and stepped out of the bathroom.
He moved into the bedroom, first checking the mattress and the walls for any signs of sniper fire through the window. He then checked the window itself.
Finally, he approached the main door to his suite.
He looked at the rudimentary, nearly invisible tripwires and warning devices he had rigged the night before. None of them had been triggered.
Satisfied, Hunter went back to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and took a hot shower.
Dressed in a clean suit, he prepared to leave the hotel to hunt down the final three Hicks executives.
But the moment he pulled the suite door open, he froze.
Hanging from the exterior doorknob was a vacuum-sealed plastic bag.
Inside the clear bag was a sleek, encrypted smartphone.
Written in bold black marker across the plastic bag was a simple message:
"For Mr. Hunter Sun's eyes only. We mean you no harm."
Hunter raised an eyebrow. He reached out and unhooked the bag.
He was wearing his custom silicone tactical gloves, so he wasn't worried about leaving fingerprints or picking up any contact poisons.
He pulled the phone out and inspected it thoroughly, confirming it was just a standard burner device and not a concealed explosive.
He unlocked the screen and opened the call log.
There was exactly one missed call from an unknown number.
Hunter understood immediately. He pressed the dial button.
Over the past two weeks, as his one-man slaughter of Hicks Consulting made waves through the criminal underworld, several organizations had reached out to him through various backchannels.
Most were established assassin guilds. A few hid their identities but clearly expressed a desire to recruit him.
And why wouldn't they? Over the last fortnight, he had single-handedly carved through an entire PMC. The tactical awareness and sheer lethality he displayed put him on par with the absolute legends of the industry.
Any organization would kill to have an asset like him.
Furthermore, the Continental Hotel didn't exercise strict, exclusive control over its members.
Based on the intelligence Hunter had gathered over the past three months, many assassins—like Perkins—were formally employed by other syndicates while maintaining Continental membership for its neutral ground and services. As long as a member periodically fulfilled Continental contracts and obeyed the rules on Hotel grounds, they were free to operate as they pleased.
Because of his terrifying kill count, all the organizations attempting to contact him lately had been exceptionally polite, cautious, and non-threatening.
It just reinforced what Hunter already knew about the Western underworld: they feared power and respected nothing else.
Ring... Ring...
After a brief dial tone, the call connected.
A calm, highly refined, and deeply professional woman's voice came through the speaker.
"Mr. Sun. I am so glad you decided to return my call."
"My name is Diana. If you have the time, I would very much like to arrange a meeting to discuss a mutually beneficial opportunity."
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