Secret Mission

“Target spotted.”

That’s Lynx in my ear, her voice crisp, British, and smug. She’s hacked into the building’s CCTV system, and now she’s my eyes.

“Alright, darling,” she says, “our kebab‑loving friend just waddled through the lobby. Cameras show him dripping garlic sauce on the marble floor. Classy.”

I slip through the service entrance, as a security guard, pistol tucked inside my jacket. Berlin nightlife hums outside, but inside it’s quiet—too quiet.

“Left corridor,” Lynx guides. “Two guards chatting near the vending machine. You guys can make friends, Kitsune.”

“Not my style,” I mutter, moving silently.

“Then stab them, I suppose. But do it quickly, before they finish their rant. They’re boring the hell out of me.”

I call over for help—as a security guard—and the moment one takes the left turn, I stab, right in the throat, without a noise. Then I pass by the other and then strike. Silent, efficient. Lynx hums approvingly.

“Lovely. Now, up the stairs. Third floor. Target’s in a private room, still clutching that kebab like it’s the crown jewels.”

I ascend, every step carefully taken. Lynx keeps feeding me intel.

“Camera four shows a janitor mopping the hallway. Poor bloke looks half asleep. Don’t scare him, Kitsune. He’s the only one here actually working.”

I slip past, unseen.

“Camera six—two guards outside the target’s door. One’s doom scrolling, the other’s picking his teeth. Honestly, Berlin’s security is tragic. Just end them.”

I wait. Lynx counts down.

“Three… two… one. Now.”

I move. Blade flashes, guards collapse. No alarms.

Inside, the target sits at a table, kebab half‑devoured, arrogance dripping from his posture. He looks up, confused.

“Who are you?” he asks, sauce smeared across his chin.

Lynx chuckles in my ear. “Oh, please say something dramatic. I’ll record it for posterity.”

I lean close, whispering: “Next time, order less garlic sauce. Though I doubted there will be a next time.”

One clean stab. He slumps forward, kebab sliding onto the table. Mission completed.

“Congratulations,” Lynx says. “Mission accomplished.”

I drop the knife and head back to the security room and change into a bodyguard suit—honestly taking out a big tough guy just so I can disguise as him is a bit too much but lynx’s commands are what goes—and then vanish out of the building just as unnoticed as I walked in.

Back at our super secret, totally normal-looking building, I stroll into the main room, tossing the pistol onto the metal table with a “yeah, I nailed it without this thing.” grin.

“Well, look what the stray cat dragged in,” Viper says from his corner, surrounded by wires and what looks like tiny bombs. “Did you at least not blow anything up this time, Kitsune? Didn’t hear any explosions like last time.”

“Oh, ha-ha, Viper,” I shot back, peeling off this super itchy bodyguard getup. “I once told you that the explosion happened because of a fire accident. It wasn’t me.”

“Yeah, sure. In your dreams I’ll EVER believe that.” he earns a giggle from Lynx. She always laughs at anything as long as Viper is the one saying it.

Glitch stands up from her table beside Viper and stretches. “Whatever losers… I’m retreating for the night. Goodnight-”

“Kitsune,”Seraphina says, her German accent all sharp as she cuts off Glitch.

“Got a new one for you.” She holds out a file folder of a man with this really sharp handsome face and these intense blue and grey eyes. “Your target is Maximilian Lefevre. Head of the Lefevre Don.” Seriously?! I was about to shower and finally hug Mr. Brat—my favourite body pillow since I got my first paycheck—to sleep.

My eyebrows go way up. “Maximilian Lefevre? Isn’t he, like, impossible to get to?”

She just looks at me, not even blinking. “That’s why you’re doing it. The client asked for you specifically. Cause you can do it. You’re Kitsune. He’s about to close a very big deal, and that could be a problem to the client. He needs to be gone. Quietly.” She says and I sigh.

“Give me the files. I’ll go through them before bed.”

Back in my surprisingly minimalist room at the third floor of our ‘normal building’ I start my getting-ready-for-bed ritual. First, I get them clothes laid out on the bed. Fluff up Mr. Brat and then shower. Once I’m out, I towel off my hair, flop onto the bed, and stare at the file on the nightstand. Maximilian Lefevre’s eyes practically burn through the picture—like he knows I’m already plotting his downfall. Mr. Brat gets a dramatic sigh as I hug him tight.

“Why do they always send me the impossible ones?” I mutter into the fluff.

The door creaks open. Lynx pokes her head in, ears practically twitching with curiosity. “So… another big fish?”

“More like a shark,” I groan. “And apparently, I’m the sushi chef.”

She smirks. “You’ll manage. You always do. Besides, Viper’s already taking bets on how long it’ll take you to charm Lefevre before stabbing him in the back.”

“Wow. Thanks for sharing the most useless thing I've heard today.”

“Don’t mention it.” She vanishes before I can throw a slipper at her.

I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling. The air conditioner hums faintly. Somewhere below, Viper is probably soldering another miniature apocalypse. Sera’s probably sharpening her accent into a weapon. And me? I’m supposed to be Kitsune, the fox who slips through people unnoticed.

But right now, I’m just Rei Sato, exhausted, clutching Mr. Brat, and wondering if Maximilian Lefevre ever sleeps cause he looks so intimidating…. just like my father.