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HITMAN by secretscope
You sit on a small old fashioned wooden stool. You've learnt after a while of talking that this man was rather suave in his conversational abilities. You found yourself being drawn to him in ways you had forgotten. A friendship. You begin to get tired of this charade and get straight to the point. You show him your card, then lean in closer then suserrate, "do you want anyone..'extracted?'" You lean back into your original position to watch him nod his head, he looks impressed. You're actually surprised he actually has any enemies. He seems like such a great man in his own right, you'd be saddened if he died. You never make any friends, once you become an assassin, you cannot trust anyone. "I've been waiting for someone like you to come along." He says softly, he puts his right hand into his Tuxedo jacket's pocket and withdraws a picture, he give this to you. You observe the picture carefully, a white man with long straggly hair down to his shoulders and a wild brown beard, wearing a grey T-shirt and jeans. He's walking in some kind of vegetated land. He's on a concrete path, but he's surrounded by grass, bushes and a few trees. A park. "He's been bothering me lately. Last week he--" You cut off his speech with a wave of your hand. "It doesn't matter. What's his name?" "Henry Valkatrov. He lives down Alcro Road. He usually hangs out at Hippy Bar. You'll probably find him there now."


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10,000
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