"What's he worth?" he asked.

"Ten million dollars," replied the man.

The man's reply piqued his interest.  He looked at the man with a smile.  "That's quite a generous reward."

"Can I trust you to take care of this?" asked the man.

He smirked.  "Why else would you come to me?"

The man smiled.  "They say you are the best."

"I am," he declared with confidence.

"I pray that you won't let me down-"

Without letting the man finish his sentence, he drew out his sword, concealed under his jacket and plunged it towards the man's throat.  The man stood frozen in shock. 

"There's no need for you to pray," he assured the man as he pulled back his sword.

The man glanced at the blade beside his neck and noticed blood.  Panicking, he ran his hand along his neck but found no wound.  It was only when he turned to look behind, did he see the figure lying on the ground with a stab wound to his throat.

"You are as ruthless as they say," said the man.

He smirked and turned to walk away.  "I have to be, in this mad world."