Those who have reached a certain level within the mercenary guild know that it’s not merely a job. It isn’t a hobby or a career or a fun pastime. It’s a calling. A fucking honor.

Being in the Guild is our life … or death.

Not everyone is created equal, and not everyone is truly cut out for the work we do. It’s not pretty, it’s not glamorous, and it’s sure as shit not moral or good. The weight of the sins we carry can become too much for some, and they crack.

When they do, they become a threat.

No one quits the Guild. Not really. Either they cut a deal to make themselves useful in another capacity, or they get eliminated.

But who, you might ask, can kill a killer?

Who scares the boogeyman into running and hiding?

Men like me.

The Guild is my life. My love. My very existence.

Anyone who poses a threat to that, is eliminated. No questions, no hesitations, no mercy.

Until her.