Izoyan
---
İzoyan
Izoyan had woken up at his usual time and was sipping his tea. He was the best hitman of his time. That day, there was a knock on his door again.
“Come in,” he said.
A short, skinny man with green eyes and a mysterious aura entered the room.
“There’s a new job for you,” he told Izoyan.
“What dirty business have you gotten yourself into again, Harry?” Izoyan replied.
Izoyan was a Turkish-origin hitman living in England. He was extremely skilled at what he did — never once caught, never once leaving a trace behind.
“I suspected him before, but now there’s proof. He killed a little girl. A monster!” said Harry.
“Tell me where he is. I’ll finish it tonight,” Izoyan responded.
“Dox Mansion,” said Harry.
By evening, Izoyan had arrived across from the mansion. There were dogs in the yard. He took a special bone from his bag and threw it to the front, then quickly ran toward the back. Climbing the wall, he cut the wires with pliers and snuck in. Unfortunately, a guard saw him as he jumped in. Izoyan knocked him out before he could alert the others, then climbed up to the window Harry had described.
Inside, he wrestled fiercely with the target. So much so that the guard had woken and alerted others. Footsteps echoed from the stairs. Izoyan finished the job with his knife, as always. But just as he headed toward the window, the door opened. He was shot in the leg as he jumped out. Limping, he ran toward the wall. The dogs had finished their distraction and were now chasing him. With one last burst of strength, he climbed the wall, jumped over, and disappeared into an alley.
Normally, he left no trace. But this time, he had bled. When he finally made it home, Harry was waiting for him.
Harry was surprised — it was the first time Izoyan had come back injured. He helped him to the couch and went downstairs to prepare medicine. While downstairs, he spoke on the phone:
“He’s finally dead. That bastard got what he deserved — hell.”
“We warned him. Those who don’t pay gambling debts with money pay with their lives.”
Izoyan, though a killer, only targeted other killers. Hearing this conversation filled him with regret. This job had gone against everything he stood for. Harry had manipulated him into this. Worse, his blood was left at the scene — he could be caught.
When Harry came back upstairs, Izoyan discreetly used a small syringe to take a bit of his own blood. Still not fully healed, he later snuck into the police station disguised as an officer and entered the evidence room. He swapped the blood sample tied to the case with his own.
A few days later, despite all his objections, Harry was arrested.
And this — this was Izoyan’s first mistake.
