Jack stood, cold and in wait, at the City Square. Of course they’d send him, Jack the lead Executioner, to kill a fly. He wanted to somehow teleport to the old days, where you walked in the public with your axe hanging from your belt, not have it hidden in a jacket. He was like all the other Executioners, Tall and muscular, but only he had earned the title, through a lot of blood and sweat, and he was going to keep it. Jack remembered his old life, grew up in the worst parts of town, killed a guy, and then sent to jail, all when he was 18. The Assassins came for him in his cell, and he took their offer. When he went through their tests he always saw one head nodding in approval. His master was always supportive of his style, the others, a bunch of pansies. Jack shook his head, needed to get back to the job.
An official walked by fitting the description of the assassination target, so he followed slowly. A man moved in front of him casually, his right hand hidden under a cape, this was the man. Jack grabbed the man and pushed him down on his knees, pulling out his axe as he did so. The man slid down further, so he was lying on his stomach, and pulled himself forward. Jack swung his axe him. People screamed and ran, trying to get of his way. The man was fast, both dodging and trying to get close to Jack, who could see the contraption on his hand. It was a glove with blades on the fingers, crude but effective. Once he got close enough Jack grabbed the man on his side and lifted him, preparing for the Body Smash, one of the few signature moves of the Executioner class. The man twisted in Jacks grip, just enough to slash his forearm. Jack felt the blades tear through muscle and he let go. The man then leapt at Jack and slashed at him, aiming for his neck. Jack leaned back far enough to get away from the hand, and then heard the slight and almost quiet sound of a silencer going off.