"Kedening, you're really not cut out for this job."
In the dark alley, Kedening crouched at the corner, panting heavily. Opposite him, David leaned casually against the wall.
"I... I..."
Kedening looked at the blood on his hands, so bright, still emanating warmth.
Something squirmed in his vision, and Kedening looked in horror toward the corner. A man was whimpering, crawling toward him.
He should be dead, having been stabbed multiple times in the abdomen, yet driven by a will to survive, he stubbornly crawled, seeking some glimmer of hope.
"Even though you introduced me to this line of work, I still have to say, at times, you need to be ruthless."
David played with the short knife in his hand, still dripping with blood, and stomped hard on the man, as if crushing a rotten tomato, squeezing more blood from his body with a slight application of force.
