Kill the Thorn Princess? Me?

"If you try anything, you'll die."

Karen Nocturne's icy voice rang out, and Harlan's pupils abruptly contracted-a compact pistol gleaming coldly had also come into view.

As a senator who had retired from the battlefield, he recognized the pistol at a glance. A 9 mm Makarov pistol, also known as a PSM pistol. It wasn't particularly powerful.

But there were only four meters between them now, and at that distance, it was lethal. If a fight broke out, his only hope would be to pray the other man was a terrible shot.

But was that possible?

This was the renowned second-best assassin in the world, a man who could make a successful sniper kill from over a thousand meters away.

"I was just getting your money." Harlan swallowed, slowly reaching into the sofa with his right hand and retrieving the bank card stored beside his pistol. The cold sweat seeping from his palm dampened the card's edges.

He laid the card flat on the table and pushed it over. "This is the remaining payment, four hundred thousand Dacel. With the hundred thousand paid in advance, I've paid the full five hundred thousand."

A stiff smile clung to his face, twisted beyond recognition.

This was five hundred thousand Dacel.

In Ostania, an ordinary family might not save ten thousand in an entire year even if they spent nothing on food or drink.

Although Harlan held the title of senator, he owned no businesses, and Ostania cracked down harshly on corruption. This money amounted to a quarter of his entire net worth.

Every payment felt like carving flesh from his body.

"Good." Karen's slender fingers skimmed across the table and picked up the bank card.

He lowered his head and gave it a light sniff, a knowing smile curling his lips. Then he rose smoothly, the hem of his black trench coat rustling faintly through the air.

There was no need to check the balance on the card.

Harlan didn't have the nerve to withhold payment.

Anyone who dared cheat an assassin organization out of its money must not want that tumor on top of their neck anymore.

At the door, Karen's gaze abruptly turned cold, a chill flashing in his eyes. "Senator, next time you poison someone's coffee, choose your target carefully. No poison in the world has any effect on me. Please remember that."

Before his words had faded, he pushed the door open, instantly adopting a gentle, harmless expression. "Goodbye, then, Senator. Your guidance has been most enlightening."

The bang of the closing door made Harlan shudder.

He staggered over and grabbed the half-finished cup of coffee left on the table, hurling it into the trash, cup and all. Then he collapsed onto the sofa, his face as white as paper.

"Terrifying. Is this what a world-class assassin is like?" he muttered. "Thank goodness I didn't make a move. That would've ended badly."

Forcing himself to stand, Harlan lifted the sofa cushion and retrieved the pistol hidden underneath.

Something was wrong. It was too light.

He quickly inspected it and discovered that the magazine had vanished. A folded note had taken its place.

[Senator Harlan, possessing a firearm without authorization is illegal. I hope you'll take this as a lesson.-Karen Nocturne]

"When... did he..."

Meanwhile, Karen had already hailed a black taxi at the curb.

He settled into the back seat, his keen instincts alerting him to the faint signs of someone following.

"Karen, should we shake off that secret police mole?" the driver suddenly asked, his voice low and raspy.

Karen leaned against the backrest, his slender fingers tapping rhythmically on the leather seat. "No. He may want me dead, but our organization doesn't harm its clients' interests during a mission. Weren't you the one who made that rule?"

"Boss."

Neon light streamed through the window, flickering across Karen's face.

The secret police belonged to Ostania's most mysterious organization-the State Security Service. Their informants were scattered throughout the country, keeping government officials, aristocrats, wealthy merchants, and remarkable individuals alike under close surveillance.

Their formidable efficiency struck terror into assassin organizations and intelligence agencies.

If they shook off their tail now, Harlan would inevitably be implicated, and that would affect the organization's reputation.

The National Security Service had always preferred killing an innocent person to letting a suspect escape.

"Heh, heh, heh..." The driver chuckled, his voice shifting from deep to hoarse. "You recognized me after all, Karen."

"The student surpasses the master." Karen gazed out at the bustling yet cold streets, his tapping growing heavier. "Besides, some targets might disguise themselves. Being able to see through a disguise is a necessary skill."

"All right, you decide. I'm getting old. The organization will be yours someday." The driver's voice suddenly took on a tearful tremor, sounding utterly sincere.

Karen snorted and shook his head. "Pfft-you said that two years ago, old man. You pull this routine all day long. Is it really that entertaining?"

"...These days, no one believes you even when you tell the truth. Whatever happened to trust between people?"

"We're all assassins. What trust?" Karen retorted dismissively. Then he leaned back, his tone cool. "...So, what job do you have for me this time?"

"Kill someone."

"Who?"

"The Thorn Princess..."

"Pfft-" Karen abruptly sat up straight and pulled an orange-flavored lollipop from inside his coat, his fingers trembling slightly. "Kill the Thorn Princess? Me?"

The boss deftly made a left turn, maintaining a steady speed. "Yes. Through a special channel, I learned of the Thorn Princess's next move."

"In three days, Brennan, the deputy minister of the State Security Service, will check into the Royal Hotel. He'll be carrying a classified document. According to reliable information, Westalis has already turned him, and he'll be making a deal there."

In the rearview mirror, Karen's figure trembled slightly.

The boss glanced at him and asked, "Are you that excited? You'll get to face the famous Thorn Princess and claim the title of the world's best assassin!"

"Are you kidding me?" Karen's expression darkened, his eyes full of terror. "As a member of an assassin organization, there's no way you don't know how strong the Thorn Princess is."

"She may be a woman, but her strength is extraordinary. She's the ace of Ostania's Garden organization. She can even wipe out a small assassin organization."

"That's completely beyond human limits!!"

Karen's pupils contracted sharply as Yor's terrifying feats flashed through his mind: being hit by a car without a scratch, smashing a ceiling clock with her bare hands, drinking poisoned wine without batting an eye, recovering completely from a gunshot wound in two days... They wanted him to take on a monster like that?

He clenched the lollipop wrapper and swallowed.

This time, I really will die.

That was right. Karen Nocturne was actually a transmigrator from Blue Star. More than twenty years ago, he had crossed into the world of the anime he'd watched, Spy x Family.

He had been only five when he arrived, just as war broke out between Ostania and Westalis. Eventually, an assassin organization took him in, and he became a proud assassin.

He knew Yor's character all too well. She was the absolute pinnacle of combat prowess in the anime, someone virtually impossible to defeat.