CHAPTER 340: CHAPTER-340.

"So you don’t know the others," she said, more statement than question.

The mongoose shook his head frantically. "No! No, we don’t! That’s the rule! We don’t know each other! We work alone! It’s safer that way—for everyone!"

Drip. Drip.

Blood continued pooling beneath him.

Kaya stood slowly, her mind working through the implications. The problem was becoming clearer now. If there were five hitmen, and they didn’t know each other, then tracking them down would be nearly impossible. They were ghosts. Shadows. Operating independently, taking jobs through an anonymous broker, never leaving trails.

And if whoever wanted her dead had hired one...

"Did they hire all five of you?" Kaya asked suddenly, looking down at him. "Or just you?"

The mongoose’s eyes widened. "I... I don’t know! We don’t communicate! Each job is separate! I only know my own contracts!"

Kaya’s expression darkened.

That meant there could be four more hitmen out there right now, all with her description, all with that sketch, all hunting her.

Or maybe just him.

No way to know for sure.

"But," the mongoose added weakly, voice trembling, "if... if it’s a big target... high priority... sometimes... sometimes the Broker gives the same contract to multiple people. First one to complete it gets the full payment. The others... get nothing."

Kaya’s eyes flashed. "So there could be others hunting me right now."

The mongoose nodded slightly. "M-maybe... I don’t know..."

Silence filled the room.

Chatter-chatter-chatter. Sparrow’s teeth were still going.

Kaya turned away from the mongoose, pacing slowly toward the window. Moonlight spilled across her face, illuminating the cold calculation in her eyes.

Five hitmen. One broker. An anonymous client with enough money to commission multiple killers.

And somewhere in this city, four more assassins who might—or might not—be coming for her.

She clenched her fists.

Crack.

Kaya slowly walked to the windowsill, her movements deliberate and controlled. She gazed out at the night—at the brightly glowing moon hanging high above the sleeping city.

And then, as the cold wind passed through her hair, ruffling it gently, something shifted in her expression.

Her lips curled up slowly.

Haaah.

A hazy smile spread across her face. The cold wind hit her cheeks, and she breathed it in—that icy, biting air. Her smile deepened, becoming something almost dreamlike. Even she couldn’t quite believe it. The sensation coursing through her veins. The pure, electric thrill of it all.

She hadn’t felt this in so long. Years. Literally years.

She stood there, silhouetted against the moonlight, just staring at the city’s contours—the rooflines, the distant market, the shadowed alleys where killers moved.

Behind her, Veer—who had been about to chain up the mongoose and throw him into another room—paused mid-step.

He watched her.

And then, quietly, a smile bloomed across his own face.

His tongue was still cheerful, playful, calm. Like he hadn’t just witnessed his beloved woman beat a man nearly to death. Like the scene of carnage behind them didn’t matter at all.

Instead, his voice was full of pride. Full of joy.

Like Kaya had just won the greatest victory of all.

"What do you need?" Veer asked softly.

Kaya slowly turned to gaze at him, leaning against the windowsill with her arms crossed.

"Go to the place he was talking about," she said, her voice carrying that dangerous edge. "The dead drop. And place a commission there."

Veer’s lips curved higher. "What type of commission, babe? Protection? I can handle it myself if you—"

"A commission to kill me," Kaya said calmly.

Silence.

The room went absolutely still.

Even Cutie, who’d been standing with that proud smile frozen on his face, went rigid. His expression flickered—confusion, then understanding, then something like alarm.

"What?" Veer’s voice came out sharp. "No!"

He took a hurried step forward, his expression shifting from amusement to something more serious. Creak. The floorboards groaned beneath his weight as he moved.

Cutie stepped forward too, his frozen mask cracking. He clenched his fists tightly.

"Kaya, I don’t think this is a good idea," Cutie said, his voice tight with concern.

Kaya simply turned her head slightly, meeting his eyes with that cold gaze.

Just one look.

Cutie’s protest died in his throat. He stopped mid-step, clenched his fist harder, and then fell silent.

She turned back to Veer.

"Go and place an order," she said, her tone brooking no argument. "Tell them to kill me. As brutally as they could. And the one who finishes the commission gets triple the pay."

Veer’s eyes widened. "Kaya—"

"Not only that," Kaya continued, "tell them they have three days."

Silence.

Veer paused, processing. Then slowly, carefully, he took a deep breath. His expression shifted—calculating, understanding, beginning to see the logic beneath the madness.

"Why not place the order on the Sparrow?" he suggested quietly. "Use him as bait instead?"

Sparrow, sitting trembling in the corner, made a small squeaking sound. "Eep—!"

Kaya turned to look at the Sparrow. For a moment, she actually considered it. That idea had merit. Real merit.

But then she paused and shook her head slowly.

"Nah," she said, almost dismissively. "This bastard would be dead before we even knew it. Someone would take him out just to prove a point."

She looked back at Veer, her expression settling into something cold and certain.

"Just tell them to kill me."

Veer stood there for a long moment, staring at his beloved woman—this creature who’d just decided to paint a target on her own back and invite an entire network of assassins to come collect.

Then, slowly, a smile returned to his face.

Not a smile of fear.

A smile of absolute faith.

"Heh." A small laugh escaped him. "Alright then."

He turned toward the door, his movements quick and purposeful.

"Three days," Kaya said behind him. "I want them all here within three days, Veer."

Veer didn’t even pause. He simply raised one hand in acknowledgment as he moved toward the exit.

Creak. Creak.

His footsteps receded.

Cutie stood frozen, his eyes still locked on Kaya. There was conflict written all over his face—concern warring with something else. Something that looked almost like awe.