I walked into his office and he told me to sit down. I sat in a brown leather couch ornamented with jewels and gold. He wore a silver mask with an eye painted on the front, he also wore a red suit with a copper colored tie. His shoes were black and very pointed, his gloves were white and had steel plates attached to the knukles, the plates read "knowledge is power". The final article of note that he wore was his ring, it was big and supported three gems, a sapphire, a ruby and an emerald. He handed me a pice of paper, my contract, and we started discussing.
- What's the job? I inquired. What do you want me to do?
- Enter the annual death match tournament as one of our representatives and win.
He spoke in a monotone voice, almost like a machine, this meant he was serious about it. I read the contract, it was ten billion dollars for completing the job, but why did he choose me? My power isn't anything combat worthy, it's simply a tool I'll sometimes use for leverage, I would probably die in the first round.
- Why me? My ability isn't good enough to win. Why not choose one of your best assassins and not a con artist? This isn't the first time you ask me to do a job I can't do.
He chuckled and handed me a document. It was a list of all the people I had driven to suicide through loan sharking, gambling and swindling. Why was he handing me this? It didn't make much sense.
- You see, this year the competition is held in the real world and you will have no idea who is and isn't participating. Some of these people don't want to participate and have to die in some way or another before the end of the competition. I want you to infiltrate their lives and lead them to suicide or into my servitude. I will give you money for each kill or servant you claim, if you win you will be awarded ten billion dollars. Does that sound fair?
I contemplated the offer for a moment and decided it would be best if I accepted.
- I'll do it! I responded in a businessman tone. How will I know which ones to target? Also, how much money per kill or indentured servitude?
- In time you will receive the list of inactive participants and a list of those to avoid, as for the price of success, each individual has their own worth. You may leave as soon as you sign, we will take care of the rest. One more thing, if you were to fail or die, everyone who knows your name, outside of our organization, would be killed.
I signed the document and headed back home. I looked at myself in the mirror and thought of how I would go on about this, should I wait for the strong to take each other out, should I weed out the weak to further my greed or should I warn the weak of their impending doom. Whatever I choose to do, I should consider my safety first. The third eye, the organization I work for, will know of everything that happens to me, for they constantly monitor the world. Our leader, the third eye, can see everything, that is his ability. Mine isn't worth mentioning since it only works on certain types of people. I seemed to grow older with each passing day, as I looked at my brown hair turning grey and my face looking more refined and grizzled, but I was only in my thirties, so why was this happening? Was it someone's power?
A few weeks later I received a list containing all the dangerous targets and all the weak ones. It stated their ability and their will to participate. My job was to take care of those who didn't want to participate. As I was preparing to leave, I decided I should take a weapon, just in case. I took a generic black pistol and a flashbang, in case I needed a way to escape, as well as a bullet proof vest. The vests this company made were extremely light and thin, it was probably made of graphene because it was very durable.
And so, I left my apartment and headed towards my first target, a man named David Johnson, an American veteran who didn't want to participate in this event. His power was eagle vision, an ability that can augment the effective range of your vision. Though it reduces the amount of color they can see when using it. He was most effective from afar with a sniper rifle in his hands. He seemed like the easiest, with him being over sixty and suffering from slight dementia. He would surely believe me if I told him that we had known each other. I could outright kill him, but that would give up my status as a player in this game, suicide was the only option. I jumped onto the first flight to Chicago, using my unlimited credit given to me for the task. Once there I waited for the competition to start and then I headed over to David's home.