Sejon Regional Government Complex, Sejon City, South Korea
The morning air sat still. A dull haze embraced the city. Its ember long faded from the dawn. The Minister of Trade, Industry and Energy, Chin Yong-sun, sat in his office waiting for his next appointment. He quietly drank his WuYi Yan Cha tea. He felt a sharp pain behind his eyes. He reached to put down his cup and missed the edge of the desk. It fell and shattered on the floor. He called for his secretary, but nothing intelligible came out. His vision blurred and he felt his arms go numb. Blood dripped from his ears, and he slumped over from a brain aneurysm.
“Mr. Yong-sun, it is I, Pretoria. Mr. Yong-sun are you alright?” His secretary beckoned.
But he was gone. The light faded from his eyes and his spirit left his body.
Across the parking lot sat a lone figure staring at the Government Complex. Without so much as a rifle, the Hyperion dealt a death blow. The whirring throb of Police vehicles filled the air. The warble of their sirens was unmistakable. Soon the Coroner would come and claim the body. The Hyperion smiled. Another one for the books. One-hundred Thousand US dollars would wind up in a numbered account. A small price to pay for the benefit of removing a man from office, permanently. The reasons didn’t matter. All that was important was the kill.