Sable watched the yacht, its glowing lights dotting the calm waters of the bay. She leaned back in her seat, the soft hum of the car’s engine barely audible as her longtime hacker colleague, Leo, worked swiftly in the passenger seat. His fingers tapped away on the laptop, his eyes focused with intense concentration. They had been tracking Daichi Nakamura’s movements for days now, and she had everything in place. The package from this morning had verified her findings, and what she had now was just the surface—the few pieces of information she had managed to sift through. Not enough time to delve deeper. She needed to act fast before the target moved.

  “You sure about this?” Leo’s voice broke through her thoughts, low and cautious as he glanced at her.

  Sable’s lips curled into a small, confident smile. “Two birds, one bullet.”

  Daichi Nakamura—the heir—aka OYABUN, the self-proclaimed gangster of the city’s underworld, had no idea who he was dealing with. His lavish parties, his insatiable appetite for excess, his ego that stretched as far as his wealth. His life was an open book laid out for anyone with a nose for the dirt. His social media—his obsession—had provided all the details: every party, every indulgence, every encounter. But tonight, she would be the last thing he saw.

  Leo, already in the zone, looked up. “Security’s up, but it’s nothing we can’t bypass. I’m in.”

  Sable nodded. “Keep me updated.”

  She stepped out of the car, pulling the sleek black hoodie over her head with gloved hands—no fingerprints tonight. The coolness of her tactical boots met the gravel, and she moved toward the dock with purpose. The yacht sat anchored in the distance, a perfect beacon of opulence, bathed in the glow of bright lights. She blended into the shadows, every step calculated, measured. Leo’s voice buzzed in her earpiece.

  “Just need a minute.”

  Seconds passed, the steady hum of machinery and distant party sounds muffling behind her. Then, Leo’s voice again:

  “Done. Yacht’s all yours. They’ll never see you coming.”

  A small, satisfied smile curved Sable’s lips as she clicked her earpiece off. Her heartbeat steadied. No mistakes. She was the hunter now.

  Boarding the yacht was effortless, moving with the fluidity of someone who knew every creak of the ship’s framework, every turn of the deck. It wasn’t massive—nothing overly extravagant—but it was enough for Daichi to feel untouchable. Partygoers, oblivious to her presence, staggered drunkenly between rooms. They were nothing more than pawns in her game.

  She slipped past them, a ghost in the shadows, moving toward the lower deck where Daichi would be—alone. The thrum of music faded as she approached the door. She was close.

  When she reached the door, she could hear the faintest chuckle from inside. No hesitation. She drew her knife, slipping it into her boot to keep it hidden, and gently turned the knob.

  The room was bathed in soft, golden light from large windows overlooking the sea. Daichi Nakamura sat in a plush chair, whiskey glass in hand, laughing at something on his phone. His expression was unbothered, relaxed. Comfort. The kind of comfort that only someone who thought themselves invincible could afford.

  Sable stepped into the room, closing the door silently behind her. Daichi didn’t flinch.

  “Well, well, well,” she said, her voice low, cold, and calculated. “Looks like you’re the one who’s out of luck.”

  Daichi looked up, eyes narrowing. His smile faltered as he immediately set his phone down, his hands trembling. The other end of the line echoed faintly, a female voice calling, “Dai darling, what happened? Hello? Hello?”

  “Who the hell are you?” Daichi’s voice was sharp with outrage, rising as he scrambled to make sense of the situation. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Sable smiled, cold as ice. She stepped closer, and her voice was a whisper of finality. “I’m your worst nightmare.”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Daichi’s hands moved to his phone, but it slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor. In a desperate attempt, he reached for a gun stashed in his inner pocket, but it was too late. She was already there, the phone in one hand, the gleaming pistol in the other—Daichi’s own weapon, now in her possession.

  A wave of cold fear swept over him. He stiffened, body tense with terror. His attempt to distract her was futile. The tranquilizer had already taken effect. He could feel it—his body alive, but paralyzed. Numb. His muscles refused to move.

  “You...” Daichi’s words were a slurred rasp. Panic bled into his eyes as the reality of his helplessness set in. His gaze darted around the room, searching for an escape that no longer existed. His body stiffened as the paralysis grew stronger, the pressure of fear building behind his eyes.

  Sable crouched beside him, calm and methodical as she explained her plan, her voice chilling in its steadiness. She mimicked the soft, feminine voice Daichi had heard on the phone earlier, speaking with an almost playful tone, but dripping with malice.

  “You’re not going anywhere, Daichi,” she said, her voice slipping effortlessly into the mockery of the woman’s tone. “I’m going to take my time. You’ll remember every second.”

  He tried to scream, but it was impossible. His body screamed for movement, but the drug had silenced him. He could do nothing but lie there, trapped in his own failing body.

  “I think you’ll find it’s not much fun when you can’t escape,” Sable continued, her voice an emotionless whisper. “You’ve ruined enough lives, Daichi. I don’t care who you’ve wronged, or how many. But there’s one you shouldn’t have touched. A life you should never have taken.”

  She pulled a small blade from her jacket, the stainless steel gleaming as she hovered it over his finger. Daichi’s eyes bulged with panic as she placed the blade against his skin. The first cut was swift. A sickening snap echoed through the room as she removed his first fingernail. Daichi gritted his teeth, but not a sound escaped—his body no longer capable of responding.

  Sable leaned in closer, watching his face carefully. She could see the defiance draining from his eyes, replaced by confusion, pain, and growing terror. “Do you recognize me yet?”

  He tried to shake his head weakly, his vision blurred by the drug. The reality of the situation was slowly coming into focus, but it was too late. She didn’t stop.

  The second finger came next, each calculated cut precise and unyielding. Daichi trembled under the pain, sweat pouring down his face, his eyes wide in horror.

  “Do you know who I am yet, Daichi?” Sable’s voice remained cool, calculating. “Well, we have eight...no, eighteen more to go.” She glanced from his hands to his feet. Daichi’s entire body shuddered, the implication sinking in.

  “You are no fun,” Sable remarked flatly, her voice sharp as a razor. She pulled out a photograph from her jacket and waved it in front of him.

  “Look up here, you stupid fuck.”

  When he didn’t respond immediately, she roughly gripped his cheeks, forcing his face toward the light. The worn photo in her hand was now inches from his face.

  It was an image of a woman—broken, pale, bloodied, her name written across the bottom.

  Daichi’s eyes strained as he focused, the breath catching in his throat as recognition dawned. It took a second, then his gaze sharpened with horror. “You... You’re her.”

  Sable’s gaze hardened, her eyes locking onto his with icy precision. “That’s right,” she whispered. “But it’s too late.”

  The pain intensified. Daichi’s body shuddered, the agony stretching on. His eyes begged for mercy, but mercy was never an option.

  Sable let him suffer until he could no longer control his own body, until the humiliation of it broke him. She looked at him—disgust flickered in her eyes, despite the calm she maintained.

  “This is not a human, just an animal,” she stated flatly, as though it were a fact, not a judgment. Her revenge was complete.

  She reached into her jacket, pulling out the silenced pistol, placing it against his forehead. His wide, terror-filled eyes stared up at her, the last thing he would ever see.

  “I’m done,” she murmured.

  The shot was quick, quiet, efficient.

  Sable wiped the blood from her hands, standing and walking toward the door with the calm of someone who had done this countless times before. She paused by the threshold, carving the word “BITCH” into his forehead with her knife. She stared at the mark for a moment, then turned and left without looking back.

  Her footsteps were soft as she moved through the yacht, unnoticed by the drunken revelers above. The door closed quietly behind her. As she slipped into the shadows, Leo’s voice buzzed in her earpiece.

  “All clear. You’re good to go.”

  From outside the door, Daichi’s bodyguard knocked softly, calling out for his boss. When no answer came, he pushed the door open, his face draining of color as he saw the blood. His legs buckled, collapsing in shock.

  Moments later, the cleaning lady entered, her eyes widening in horror at the sight of the bodyguard on the floor and Daichi, lifeless in his chair.

  A scream tore through the silence, echoing across the yacht.

  The bodyguard scrambled to call for backup, his panic ringing out as the sirens in the distance grew louder. The yacht’s security alarm blared in the background, but it was already too late.

  From above, a drone hovered, silently capturing the chaos below. The lens zoomed in, then pulled back. The drone ascended, its mechanical hum fading as it disappeared into the night.

  The yacht grew smaller and smaller as the drone climbed higher, fading into the black sky. And then, as the drone disappeared into the void, only the vast silence of the ocean remained. It was as if nothing had happened at all.

  From the sky, everything seemed distant. Unreachable. Unseen.