A Hitman's Guide To Becoming A Hero

The scent of roasted garlic, seared beef, and caramelized onions filled the apartment.

Marina stood by the stove, a faded apron tied tightly around her waist. She moved with practiced efficiency, flipping thick cuts of meat in a heavy cast-iron skillet while a large pot of stew bubbled quietly on the back burner. Nicholas was standing near the counter and methodically chopping a few stray vegetables.

"Pass me the salt, Nick," Marina said, not taking her eyes off the sizzling meat.

Nicholas handed her the small ceramic shaker.

𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

Just a few days ago, he had been dodging a massive tail from a city-level impure and shattering the skull of a giant serpent in the middle of a crowded street. Tonight, his biggest concern was making sure he didn’t chop the carrots too thick.

’Or she’ll kill me’ Nicholas thought with a wry smile.

The doorbell chimed, a soft, pleasant sound that echoed down the narrow hallway.

"I’ll get it!" Katie yelled from the living room.

The sound of rapid, sock-clad footsteps padded across the wooden floor, followed by the heavy click of the deadbolt sliding open.

"Supervisor Selena!" Katie announced loudly.

"Hey, Katie," Selena’s voice drifted in, tired but genuinely warm. "I told you, when I’m here, you don’t have to call me Supervisor. Just Selena is fine."

"But Supervisor sounds so official," Katie argued as she led Selena into the kitchen. "It makes me feel like I have high-level security just by knowing you."

Selena stepped into the kitchen, carrying a small paper box tied with a thin white string. She wore her standard navy suit, but she had already shed the jacket, and her white button-down shirt was wrinkled at the elbows.

The strict, professional face she wore at the Association headquarters was entirely gone. She looked physically exhausted, but a soft, relaxed smile spread across her face as she inhaled the rich aroma of Marina’s cooking.

"You’re right on time," Marina said, turning away from the stove to give Selena a quick, one-armed hug. "Dinner is just about done. What did you bring?"

"Chocolate éclairs from the bakery down the street," Selena said, setting the box on the edge of the counter. "I figured we needed something sweet after the week we’ve had."

Katie gasped, her round eyes going wide as she stared at the white box. "You are officially my favorite person in the Association. I will petition the Council to give you a massive raise."

Nicholas let out a short, quiet chuckle. He took a hand towel and wiped down the wooden cutting board. "You spoil her. If you keep bringing pastries, she’s going to start expecting a daily delivery."

"I can live with that," Selena said. Her dark eyes met his, the exhaustion melting away into something much softer. "It’s good to see you, Nicholas."

"You too. Sit down. I’ll finish setting the table."

The dining table was small but sturdy, situated perfectly between the kitchen and the living room.

Nicholas laid out the plates, Marina brought over a large serving platter piled high with sliced beef, roasted potatoes, and a rich, dark gravy.

They all sat down. For the first few minutes, the only sound was the clinking of forks against porcelain. Marina’s cooking was, as always, incredible.

"So," Marina started, breaking the comfortable silence as she passed a bowl of fresh salad to Selena. "How was work today? Anything crazy happen at the headquarters?"

Selena took a sip of her water, shaking her head.

"Just paperwork, mostly. The cleanup from Chicago is still generating mountains of incident reports. The media won’t stop calling the dispatch desk asking for exclusive interviews."

"Because they want to know about big brother," Katie chimed in, pointing her fork across the table.

"Chloe told me today that half the school thinks Phantom is a secret government experiment, and the other half thinks he’s an alien from outer space. I didn’t say anything, obviously. I am a master of espionage."

"You are terrible at keeping secrets, Katie," Nicholas said flatly, taking a bite of his steak.

"I am excellent at keeping secrets!" Katie protested, her face turning slightly red. "I didn’t even tell them about my art project until Ms. Albright forced me to present it to the entire class."

Marina raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile on her lips. "And what exactly was this art project?"

Katie sat up straight, beaming with absolute pride.

"We were supposed to draw a modern historical event. So, I drew big brother in a fight. I used charcoal for the dark shadows and a lot of red crayon for the fire. I even drew big brother punching that fake clone guy right in the jaw."

Nicholas paused, his fork hovering halfway to his mouth. He looked at Katie, trying to process the image of a twelve-year-old girl proudly presenting a brutal, bloody combat scene to a middle school art class.

"Katie," Nicholas said slowly. "You drew a man getting punched in the face for a school project?"

"It wasn’t just a man, it was an impure clone," Katie corrected him, waving her free hand dismissively.

"And Ms. Albright loved it. She said it showed a ’raw understanding of contemporary conflict.’ I got an A-minus."

Selena burst into laughter, nearly choking on her food. She quickly covered her mouth with a cloth napkin, her shoulders shaking as she tried to compose herself.

"I’m sorry," she gasped, looking at Nicholas’s completely blank expression. "I just... I wish I could have seen the teacher’s face."

"It was a masterpiece," Katie declared, entirely unbothered by their reactions. She scooped a large portion of potatoes onto her plate.

"Just wait until I get to school tomorrow. I’m going to take classes on advanced combat arts. I’ll learn how to fight like big brother!."

Marina’s smile faltered slightly at Katie’s words, a brief shadow crossing her face. But she quickly masked it, not wanting to ruin the lively mood of the dinner. "Let’s focus on passing regular math first, Katie."

Katie groaned, dramatically slumping back in her wooden chair. "Math is the real villain. Phantom should punch fractions."

The dinner continued with light, easy conversation.

They talked about the city, about the weather, and about the ridiculous prices at the local grocery market. For nearly an hour, there was no mention of the plague, no talk of the Association’s corrupt politics, and no looming threats of alien ruins. It was just a family sharing a meal.

Nicholas sat quietly, listening to the banter. He watched Katie laugh at a joke Selena made, and he watched Marina relax, the heavy tension leaving her shoulders. This was what he fought for. This small, fragile bubble of peace. He knew better than anyone how easily the world could tear it apart, which was exactly why he had to keep stepping outside the bubble to protect it.

Once the plates were cleared and Katie had successfully negotiated her way into eating two chocolate éclairs before retreating to her bedroom for homework, the atmosphere in the apartment subtly shifted.

Marina began washing the dishes in the sink, humming a quiet tune over the sound of running water.

Selena stood by the counter, drying her hands with a paper towel. She looked at Nicholas and gave a faint, almost imperceptible nod toward the small balcony attached to the living room.

Nicholas understood immediately. He walked over to the sliding glass door, pulled it open, and stepped out into the cool night air. Selena followed a second later, sliding the glass door shut behind them to block out the noise from the kitchen.

The balcony overlooked the busy streets of Grayland. The neon lights from the commercial district glowed in the distance, casting a faint, colorful haze over the dark skyline. The air was chilly, carrying the sharp scent of incoming rain and vehicle exhaust.

Selena leaned against the cold metal railing. The relaxed, smiling woman from the dinner table vanished, replaced instantly by the sharp, analytical Supervisor.

"The food was amazing, as always," Selena said quietly, keeping her voice low so Marina wouldn’t hear. "But I didn’t just come over for dinner."

"I know," Nicholas said, standing beside her. He rested his forearms on the railing, looking out over the city.

"Eric made a decision about the Sahara."

Selena nodded, her expression turning deadly serious. "Yes. The High Council is completely distracted by the clone incident in Chicago and the sudden spike in dead heroes across the sectors. Eric is using the chaos to move forward. He is assembling the strike team for the African ruins. It’s strictly off-the-books. No official Association manifests, no public deployment records. If the Council finds out what we’re looking for, they’ll seize the operation and sell the alien technology to the highest corporate bidder."

"Who is on the team?" Nicholas asked, his tone flat and professional.

"Eric wants a small, highly mobile unit," Selena explained, turning to face him. "People who can handle extreme threats without needing backup, because there won’t be any. Zero is leading the expedition since he knows the exact coordinates and has navigated the deep desert before. Nectron is joining for heavy defense and crowd control, just in case the ruins aren’t as empty as we hope."

Nicholas didn’t react with surprise. He had expected this since the secure briefing with Zero.

An ancient alien spacecraft buried under the sand, leaking the very energy that created the plague, wasn’t a problem that could be ignored. It certainly wasn’t a job for just anyone.

"It’s going to be extremely dangerous, Nicholas," Selena warned, her dark eyes searching his face.

"Zero said the ruins were built specifically to contain that ship. We have no idea what kind of automated defenses might still be active, or if Larry’s corporate backers have already managed to track the location. The heat alone is brutal, and if the ship’s core is active."

"I’ve walked into both before," Nicholas replied smoothly. He turned his head to look at her. "My only concern is this apartment."

He looked back through the glass door. Inside, Marina was wiping down the kitchen counters, completely oblivious to the conversation happening outside in the dark.

"I’m leaving the country," Nicholas continued, his voice dropping into a cold, absolute register. "Larry knows my face. The clone knows my face. And those impure kids who attacked the safe house are still out there somewhere. I won’t leave Marina and Katie unprotected while I am thousands of miles away."

Selena met his gaze firmly, understanding the gravity of his demand. "You don’t have to worry. Eric already factored that into his plans. While we are deployed, he is assigning two top-tier undercover Association operatives to monitor the building twenty-four hours a day. They won’t wear uniforms, and they won’t make their presence known to Marina, but they will be heavily armed and instructed to use lethal force if anyone even looks at this floor the wrong way."

Nicholas processed the information. Covert guards were better than nothing, but he knew exactly how quickly standard operatives could be overwhelmed by a high-tier impure. Still, it was the best option available if he had to leave the continent.

"Make sure they are highly competent," Nicholas said. "If I find out they fall asleep on the job I won’t be taking it lightly, the Association will need to hire new operatives."

"I’ll handpick them myself," Selena promised. She reached out, her hand resting lightly on his arm. It was a brief, grounding touch. "We leave tomorrow night. A private cargo transport is flying out of an unlisted airfield on the outskirts of Grayland. It will drop us at a forward staging camp near Cairo. From there, we take heavy rovers into the deep desert."

Nicholas nodded. "I’ll pack my things."

Selena let her hand drop, letting out a slow, tired breath. She looked out at the glittering city lights.

"Everything is moving so fast. A few months ago, I was just assigning you to clear out low-level thugs in abandoned alleyways. Now we’re flying to Africa to breach an alien spacecraft."

"The job scales," Nicholas noted dryly. "But I guess it’s still the same thing. Hopefully my income scales too."

"You make it sound so simple."

"It usually is," Nicholas said, turning away from the railing. "Until someone messes up."

He pushed the sliding glass door open, allowing the warm, garlic-scented air from the apartment to spill out onto the cold balcony. "Come inside. It’s getting cold, and I think Katie left half an éclair in the box."

Selena smiled softly, the heavy weight of the impending mission lifting just a fraction. "I highly doubt Katie left any chocolate unattended, but I’ll take my chances."

They stepped back into the warmth of the living room, leaving the dark city and the looming threat of the desert behind them, if only for one more night.