Is it Wrong to Copy Abilities in Apocalypse?

11:07, 22 July, 20XY.

Somewhere in the North Caucasus, Russia.

A place renowned for its beauty—a magnificent place for tourists to visit. But there was something else it was infamous for.

That area has a long history of conflicts and is known for its terrorist and unlawful activities.

The apocalypse didn't change anything for people living in this area of the North Caucasus. They always had it hard.

Surviving a single day without getting into a fight was impossible for people who lived here—they had to fight every single day.

If they went out to buy something, they would have to fight in order to bring it safely back home. If they go to school, they have to be prepared for the risk of getting killed by teachers and their fellow students.

The people in this place were way more unpredictable than nature itself.

To them, the apocalypse was better; they wanted to always live in the apocalypse as they didn't have to fight for every single thing now.

Many had died, leaving only a few of them alive, so the few of them tried to form groups under the strong ones.

But as it was an unlawful area, it hid many dark secrets as well.

It was the headquarters of the most infamous assassin organization in the world—the Reapers.

The name was nothing special; it even looked a bit cliche, but once this name was spoken, the world used to tremble in fear, at least the world of the strong people, the ones who knew what it actually was.

Today, in that exact area, a topic that one would want to bring up was spoken.

"Is there still no news from them?"

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There was a hall filled with chairs lined up along with the wall and a big throne at the center of all of them, covered by a veil from all four sides. The voice that was heard just now came from within.

"No, sir. The communication services are down, so we cannot contact them."

The one who replied to the voice was a man in his late 20s. He had been sitting on one of the chairs placed in the room but was now on his knees, replied to the one on the throne.

"Hmm..."

The man hummed, his hand stroking his chin.

He was someone whose face was still unknown to the ones sitting on the chairs, even his voice was distorted, making it impossible to guess his gender. His gestures were neutral; it was impossible to get a read of him.

The only people to have ever seen the face of that person were the four main guards. They always stood around the one sitting on the throne.

Even now, those four guards were standing at the corners of the rectangular veil that covered the throne, with their hands behind their backs, and their faces covered with plain masks of different colors.

They were the best of the best, the ones who never failed a mission, no matter what kind it was.

They would've been the person every assassin in the room would look up to, if not for the fact that everyone was cold and indifferent in this organization.

The assassins were not allowed to form deep relations with anyone within the organization. They only had one person they could be close to and tell anything they wanted to—their leader.

"What about the world chat?"

The voice spoke again, and another guy who was sitting on the chairs went down on his knees.

"We have been sending out our secret message every hour since the apocalypse started, and we have received the reply of many of our people stationed in different places, but not from them."

The atmosphere in the hall grew tense as soon as those words were spoken.

Everyone in the hall was the higher-ups of the organization, the ones who knew almost everything about the organization, so they knew the objective of the mission but were unaware of the difficulty.

The ones responsible for completing the mission were the best the organization could offer—six of the ten monstrous assassination prodigies.

The same batch of geniuses, to whom the four main guards belonged. They were of the same group, but they stayed behind to protect their leader.

"I see..."

The voice went silent after saying those words, deep in contemplation.

It was always like that. The person on the throne rarely spoke; only when he felt like speaking was it done by the four main guards in normal cases.

"If they are the best of our organization, why do you worry about them failing the mission, sir?"

*Tip**Top*...

It was only after a while that the silence was broken by a purr of a woman followed by the sound of heels hitting the ground as a lady with flowing black hair and eyes covered by a black linen cloth walked in, moving toward the throne, but...

"Oh my?"

She paused, her palm covering her lips as she let out a surprised voice tinged with amusement.

Two of the four main guards, the ones with red and blue masks were now standing right in front of her, their daggers right an inch away from her neck, but she didn't seem the least bit panicked.

She knew pretty well how powerful they were, but she knew better how strong the leash on their neck was.

"Stop."

The voice from the person sitting on the throne was heard again, causing the two guards to pause.

"Hehe~, you shouldn't act on your own violation, little assassins~."

The lady, on the other hand, just giggled, patting the shoulders of the guys before moving forward, standing right in front of the veil, looked straight at the throne; it was as if she could see the one sitting on the throne even with the black cloth on her eyes and the veil covering the throne.

The two assassins, the blue and red masked ones, however, followed behind her.

They were stopped from attacking her, but not from keeping an eye on her. She was a new addition to their organization, someone their leader had picked themself, but everyone always had their guards up against her, as she wasn't someone who could be trusted just yet.

"So? Am I going to get my answer today?"

The lady, still staring at the veil with a light smile, questioned, her head tilted a bit, performing a cute gesture, and to her surprise, she really was getting answered.

"You do not know who they were sent after, or you would not have asked that question..."

The voice spoke, his voice still the same, but the woman's brows shot up in surprise.

The distortion of the voice made it hard to perceive, but the woman, who knew perfectly well what the one in front of her felt couldn't believe it.

Was the leader of this association really scared of something? There was an entity that could make it possible??

She couldn't believe it, but she was sure that she heard a slight quiver in the leader's voice.

"I see..."

She nodded her head, and with a contemplative look on her face, she walked out of the hall, staring at the ground, not even looking up.

She knew that this was the most she could get out of the leader of the organization, Just getting an answer was a surprise for her, so when she got it, she walked away.

There was nothing more for her to gain from this place for now.

'You are dead, right..?'

As the one on the throne saw the lady walking out of the hall like always, he looked up at the sky, not wanting to see the one he had always wanted to kill alive anymore.

Even if the guy was alive, at least leave him shattered, devoid of any emotions as that would make it impossible for the guy to return to the time when he was called the peak of assassination, 'The Master of Strings'.

What that person on the throne didn't know was that the one he wished death for was still alive, and was recovering way faster than he could ever guess.

He might just return to how he was at his peak time—the same master manipulator, who enjoyed every target he killed.