Information

Naabi

The Darkmatter Montre
Owner: Cubriqui

Age: 5 years, 6 months, 2 days

Born: September 16th, 2020

Adopted: 5 years, 6 months, 2 days ago

Adopted: September 16th, 2020

Statistics

• Level: 44
   
• Strength: 110
   
• Defense: 110
   
• Speed: 116
   
• Health: 110
   
• HP: 84/110
   
• Intelligence: 509
   
• Books Read: 493
• Food Eaten: 77
• Job: Womens Specialist

THE GUTTER

Name: - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Naabi Qadir
Age: - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 26 years
Height: - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 1,56m
Specialty: - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Knife handling

CHAPTER 1:
NAABI WAS HIRED TO KILL YOU

"I have tasted the maggots in the mind of the universe.
I was not offended.
For I knew I had to rise above it all,
Or drown in my own shit."
Maggot Brain - Funkadelic

You see a woman walking towards you. She is dressed in a luxurious black cashmere suit, adorned with rubi gems all around the sleeves and collar, and her shoes are leather army boots, looking a little too worn to match the immaculate outfit. You also notice little dark brown spots in a sprayed pattern, and shivers run up your back as you realize they look an awful lot like blood.

- I am not one to share my secrets. Consider this my gift to you.

Her face has delicate features, but there is no softness in her voice, nor in her black severe eyes. There's a sharp oppressive aura slowly feeding from your insides. As your hear each word the sounds start to distance, everything else fades in a fog and your hand is trembling.

- A gift to soften your pain as you die.

Your eyes were locked to hers for so long you only notice the light reflecting on her blades when she is too close. Just like in a nightmare, you can't find your voice.

- Relax. As I tell you my story, I want you to breathe deeply and quiet your mind. I'm giving you time to prepare.

You take a deep breath and hold it in.

- I was brought up in a prestigious family, the firstborn, heir to our so precious legacy. My father, as his father, and his grandfather before him, owned a famous restaurant, Nabucodonosor, frequented by all the most valuable people in society. You know, by that I mean the rich. The richest. The ones who hold the cards.

I was expected to be next running the family business, you see, and I truly had a lot of potential. I was always a book worm, since a very young age I knew too much of the world and my mother would say, proudly, I had an old soul inside a girl's body. My father, the chef, led me into the kitchen and taught me the art of knives, I had my own little collection of blades. My mother, my little brother Ame and I had the best table reserved for us, and most nights you would find us eating by ourselves or with family acquaintances, enjoying our ancestor's respected recipes.

But don't forget, whenever we were dining peacefully at our restaurant, we were surrounded by all the powerful people I mentioned. Obviously they were unsuspicious of me, nobody pays attention to a child. They went on about their meals chatting, drinking wine, bragging, discussing business, flirting (and often cheating, I must add). I listened very carefully to everyone, out of curiosity at first. I liked the puzzle of putting together the pieces of conversation, uncovering the story behind those characters like they were paragraphs of a book. And chapter by chapter, I realized there was little humanity in those men.

At the age of 15 I learnt that the search for power made men kill each other. The people we welcomed and served had their hands soaked in blood. Well, not their hands... No. They hired people to do their dirty work of course. Once I overheard a negotiation between a politician and a man who I figured to be a hitman, they were using code words but it wasn't hard for me to decipher with a little research. They laughed, drank and had a lot of fun that night. Talked about a great amount of money and how "this would be better for everyone". It's that easy, huh? Not the slightest hesitation, no sign of guilt. Somehow this changed everything. I felt filthy, corrupted and unsafe.

Years went by, I played my part, pretending not to know about the crooked nature of reality. Ame was the only one who I trusted to discuss about it, our parents were too close to those people so we didn't know how much they could be involved in their dirty business. We vouched to protect each other as brother and siter, to live for each other, our plan was to become so strong nobody could touch us. I refused my position in our business and naturally my brother took it, becoming a better chef and executive for Nabucodonosor than I could ever be. His influence and charisma allowed him to gather information and keep an eye on everyone, while maintaining the appearances. My job was to dedicate my time working in the shadows to become deadlier than them.

My years of preparation were tough and intense. I had the knife skills, but I had to learn how to fight. I hired teachers to train me in different matial arts. My soft body slowly hardened, I got used to being bruised. Being small was helpful, I found I could be silent and fast. And with a blade on my hand, I didn't need to be so strong, I just needed to keep them flawlessly sharp. After the hard work, making the arrangements was easy with Ame's connections, we were ready.

My goal was to be known as someone you can't mess with, and for that I needed to make my name in the dark market of assassins. What a hypocrite, right? I became the very thing I hated most. I take no pride in the path I chosen, I only did what was necessary. All contracts were signed anonymously, my brother handled the negotiations in the deepweb. In the beginning I was given simple jobs, but soon enough my reputation took me to higher places. I overheard rumors that I was being called The Gutter, and no one knew who that was, they didn't know my face. I rejoiced when I realized they feared me. From then on, I would be the one to hold the cards.

You are not sure what to do with all this information but a glimpse of hope makes you stop shivering, you regain the ground beneath your feet. Still trying to maintain a deep and conscious breath, you start thinking of the right words to say. Maybe you can change her mind. She still has something human inside her, you can surely use this in your favor. Yes, you will get out of this for sure. You open your mouth to speak, but you don't have time to make your move. The last thing you see is a beautiful face stained with a sad expression and hair flowing delicately as she dashes to deliver the final blow.

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