"a light red appears in his eyes, linked to an emotion that's he's never felt before. it was as if she was the only one who made his eyes show this colour, because only she's made him feel like this." 💫 how ironic it was, the person who was sent to kill her was the only person ever who made her feel alive ONGOING ~ TIME TRAVEL / ASSASSIN AU BOOK 1 OF THE RIGHT PERSON WRONG TIME SERIES (THE PREQUEL) started: 100120

Romance / Drama
Age Rating:



The noise in the meeting room grew as the sound of multiple people flashing in illuminated. His head turned as he made out faces, his head tilting as a pen flickered between the top of his fingers.

His eyes rolled from boredom, stopping when they reached a door that was swinging back.

He groaned as a woman figure walked by. A hat was covering her neatly done hair lifted above her eyes, a wide smile on her face that was going for a welcoming look, was anything but.

Everyone also seemed to turn their heads and shift uncomfortably. Her red fur jacket fell from the surface of her shoulder, slipping to her hand that was in a position to hold it.

The people that had settled into the meeting seemed to look around before fully greeting her. She smiled smugly at their bows, her fancy shrug saying it all. "You can all sit down now," she waved off.

His hand gripped the cushion top of his chair, pulling it back smoothly. He lifted his suit's back slightly, sitting down, squirming the tiniest bit.

When his boss's eyes fell over his own, she nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Good. you're all here," she said coldly. He ripped his gaze away as his boss bore her eyes into him. Her throat-clearing jarred him as she was still looking at him in the eyes, emotionless glare intact.

"Everyone open your book to page 6050." She finally looked away as she finished her order.

As the sound of pages flipping in the air, his hard expression became confused.

Why the hell are we flipping to the 16th century?

His eyes met those of his elders and superiors, yet, it went unsaid that his training outmatched any skill they honed, by a thousand.

His age didn't help the respect owed to him, as he was born in 2000. The concept of time travel was indeed mind-boggling. As of today, he'd lived as many years as any normal 20-year-old. The only thing differentiating that between him and said normal 20-year-old, was how he got those years.

Today, the meeting took place in 1970. Confusing, as that was 30 years before he'd even let out his first cries.

The time travel had stuck him in multiple timelines, ageing him in a different timeline than the usual. Time was hard though when you were sometimes stuck in well, time, carrying out missions. A rather fancy way to say assassinations, or in simpler terms, "murder."

Or course, without the quotation marks as that was indeed what it was. Cold blooded murder, lacking sympathy in it all.

"Huang Renjun, perhaps I'm boring you?" The sharp voice from his boss made him look up, his eyes holding a roll in.

"I just don't understand why we're looking at the 16th century." His voice sounded whiny even to him, yet he spoke in the tone anyways, sharing his discomfort publicly.

She glared at him, his question going ignored.

"Everyone at that page?" She asked, shaking her head at him.

He looked around the table and saw everyone nodding.
He bit back a smirk, knowing his annoyance was the thoughts of more than half the people here.

Kiss ups.

When he realized everyone was waiting for him he fumbled at the book, flipping to the page. Saying he even skimmed the page was being more than generous.

"Takes place in—"

She looked up angrily at the sound of him moving his chair, and it's squeaking sound grinding on the floor that followed.

She looked at him with a fake smile, putting her hand out. "Renjun," she started through gritted teeth, "perhaps you would like to read it aloud."

"Whatever," he mumbled scoffing, letting her continue. He looked up, realizing she was waiting expectantly. "Wait, you actually want me to read it," he laughed as if it was the most hilarious thing, only stopping when he realized no one was doing the same.

"Dead audience, huh," he murmured, which didn't go unheard. "Sorry if we don't understand such "humour"," she said dryly. He looked down flushed, reading in irritation.

What a bunch of hags.

"The Princess Assassinated By Her Lover," as the title left his mouth, he chuckled inwardly. "How cliché," he said, looking up to return a sarcastic smile, only earning him a stern look.

"They say the last time they saw her she was calling his name. Telling him she forgave him despite the fact he was the cause of her very state."

His voice almost broke as he read. The ridiculousness in what he read felt very much amusing. He looked up, stifling any displays of giggles, looking down again to continue.

"She saw him running to her in shock, apologizing rabidly as she drew her final breaths."

He sighed at the story, to him it sounded like a mediocre soap opera, and he looked up at his boss who was smirking, waiting for him to read the next sentence.

"I forgive you my love. He shook his head as he held her. How can you forgive me?"
He read, rolling his eyes again.

"This isn't the exact story. It's just a rough reading of what we'll succeed," his boss said, her voice edged on aggression at his clear mock of the passage. Despite the way he read the book, it didn't stop his voice from faltering as he let himself continue. He looked up shakily, his boss's frustrated expression, now a wide grin.

He felt his blood go cold, the air opposite in a now humid atmosphere. He gulped as he read the words to himself, everyone else in the room gasping as they got it as well.

"I forgive you because I love you. I love you Huang Renjun."

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