Easy
Killer HeirMax adjusts the lapels of his jacket and swallows as he watches the floor numbers rise in the elevator. It's been 12 years since he started working here, but he still gets a little nervous on the way to the boss' office.
There is no one in the elevator with him, but as soon as the doors slide open with a ding, he straightens his expression. No one can see him showing the slightest sign of vulnerability. Not here.
The doors open to an ostentatious lounge, furnished with white leather sofas and sleek marble decor. It's a quiet day and no one is sitting on the couches, either. Max strides forward, his feet sinking slightly in the inch-deep, lush white carpet. He had thought it ironic the first few times that he came here that a place like this would have such an immaculate setting. Every time he came here, he half expected it to be covered in blood.
But, as usual, everything is pristinely clean, not a speck of dust on the chrome light fittings. Fei, the receptionist- though after all this time, Max still doesn't know if that's all that she really is- steps forward with her usual poker face. "Morning, sir," she says, almost in a monotone. "Boss is waiting for you."
Max inclines his head politely in acknowledgement. Fei has been the receptionist since he can remember, and she hasn't changed at all. He hasn't seen her smile or laugh or wear anything but ruffled office shirts and tight pencil skirts. Max finds her beautiful, though, and sometimes he wondered if his boss had another motive for keeping her around other than the fact that she was so professional, to the point of being uptight.
If she wasn't so boring, then maybe Max would have thought of her differently. But someone like him didn't have time for petty affairs like women. She walks in front of him and opens the door for him. Max walks through to the hall.
The hall is lavishly decorated, too, with marble floors and gold strips running along the mirror-like obsidian walls. Glass panels reveal display boxes set into the wall, showcasing expensive jewellery items, rare antiques and artefacts and every now and then, highly sought weapons. Max can't help but smile as his gaze passes over the displays. I stole some of these, he thinks proudly, remembering the thrill and exhilaration he had felt during his thefts.
At the end of the hall, Fei opens the next set of doors for him, which open to a room that, if compared to the others, is quite plainly furnished. The only thing in the room is a huge gold mirror hanging over the single door on the other side of the waiting room. The mirror is too high for Max to see his reflection, but he can see the words, inscribed in Latin, of his boss' motto reflected in the glass: Potentia obtinetur. Power is obtained.
Fei disappears through the door and reappears a moment later. "He
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