Secret agent. — ah.

New York is a dangerous city these days. It was under the control of the mafia, and no one knew who the real boss was. Not even his own people. So everyone called him "Dr. Harlow. "

Mike Ivory was a hitman. He'd been with the mafia for a long time, since he was nineteen. He was an excellent worker. Powerful, cold-blooded, and indifferent. These qualities made him one of the best.

Recently, as a good worker, he was assigned a secretary. A nice guy named Evan. He did his job flawlessly, though, so Mike didn't complain. But why bother? The guy was a good secretary.

It was a cold New York night. The most dangerous time, because that's when dangerous and scary things happen. Mike sat in his office, looking out at the city through the panoramic windows. He held a cigarette in his hand, the smoke slowly drifting around the room. Then he heard a quiet knock on the door. Without waiting for an answer, Evan entered the office with a stack of papers. When he showed up in Mark's office, he usually carried a sweet smell... caramel? Strange.