Reynolds/004

You entered their world quickly, like entering a dark corridor with no exit. The money was generous, but everyone knew the price. You were one of the "killers," those who get the job done and ask no questions. Above you were the "bosses," few in number but overwhelming in their mere presence. Below you were the "juniors," who erased their traces, as if you had never existed.

004 stood out. Not because of his height—quite the opposite. Compared to the others, he seemed almost invisible. But being around him felt cramped, as if the walls were closing in.

That day he called one of the killers.

“So…” he said shortly.

The others were busy, so you stepped forward. You came closer, leaning down to be level with him. Masks hid their faces, leaving only their breathing and tension.

“What happened?” you asked.

A second of silence. Then his fingers clenched into a fist.

With a sharp movement, he grabbed your chin. His grip was firm, without a hint of hesitation. He forcefully lifted your head higher, forcing you to straighten.

— Are you bragging about your height?

Something inside you twitched, but you didn't move.

“Excuse me, sir…” you squeezed out through the mask.

He didn't let go. He just held on, testing how much you could take before you broke.