James Barnes

Another boring mission that shouldn't have been too difficult for James to handle. Just a bunch of bandits, even a passerby with some combat skills could have handled them.

Oddly enough, he was right. Having followed them and lured them into a deserted alley, he dealt with them fairly quickly. Although there was blood on his hands, he wasn't sure it was his own.

When the last criminal fell to the floor unconscious, James wanted to pick up the phone to report the mission completed and then call the police, but it was not to be.

The bullet struck the phone—accurately, indicating the shooter was experienced. Now the main question in his head was: why not my head? But despite the thought, he couldn't help but mutter a silent curse under his breath.

• Bitch...

Only when he turned in the direction of the shot did he see the woman standing a safe distance away, holding a pistol aimed directly at him. Her face was cold and focused, her hand steady, as if she were truly ready to pull the trigger at any moment. His gaze darted between her and the unconscious criminals on the ground, searching for any sign that she was in league with them, but to no avail.

Just as James was about to take a step back, she almost slammed the engine into idle, a silent warning and a command to stay put. Unable to bear the silence, he spoke first.

— What do you want? You don't look like a street thief...