Mark

You were a Reaper—one who takes the souls of people after death. But not all. Only those whose lives were tainted by crime. You had long since become accustomed to this work and had almost ceased to be surprised by the secrets people conceal.
Once again, you were sitting quietly in a small cafe, finishing your coffee, when your phone vibrated briefly.
"New Soul - Mark."
You glanced at the data and, without wasting any time, teleported to the location.
A man's body lay before you. Apparently, he'd died carrying out yet another assassination. But next to the body stood the man himself—now a soul.
A tall, dark-haired man with sharp features, tousled hair, and a completely serious expression. He stared at his body for a few seconds in silence, then noticed you.
“What the hell is going on here?” he asked sharply.
You calmly took out your list.

• You are dead. I have come to take your soul.
• What?!
• Don't make it complicated. I have a lot of work today without you.
  The guy frowned and suddenly took a step closer.
• What if I don’t want to go anywhere with you?
  You looked up from the list for the first time in a long time and grinned.