Leon observed the three story house with architectural admiration. The owner was probably an American tycoon, or businessman. He noted the cameras and their positions, guessing them to be the kind that had both audio and visual. A sly smile spread across his face. They would neither know his identity, or hear him coming. He jumped down from the cherry tree and landed on his feet, his left arm spread for balance as he wobbled slightly-he had misjudged the jump, and his ankle flashed with shooting pain for a moment. He rose cautiously, and darted towards the back entrance to the kitchen, right as both cameras were facing in different directions. The door was open and Leon peered inside, expecting clean swept floors-only to be met by rice paper all over the place. He grinned.
Someone was paranoid, and obviously thought that loud, crinkly rice paper would deter intruders. But the joke was on them; he was trained to walk on that stuff without sounding like a clumsy oaf. He smiled and stepped inside, balancing on the balls of his feet and proceeded to the fruit bowl, picking up an orange.
Knowing his way around a kitchen growing up worked to Leon's advantage as he quickly grabbed four more oranges, and four plates. He unsheathed a sai and peeled the oranges, removing all of the pith from the outside, then cutting across the grain into quarter inch slices, and removed the seeds. He had already boiled the vinegar and brown sugar before leaving, so all he had to do was divide the oranges evenly between five plates and drizzle them with the glaze, except for one. He had made two different glazes; one regular, and the other one spiked with a healthy dose of rhubarb leaf extract. The rhubarb added a delicious taste, but was deadly, and perfect for this job. His target had a large sweet tooth. All of this was done with swift efficiency.
Leon removed his cloak, cleaned his sai, and sheathed it in his hidden weapon belt. He folded his cloak, put it in his bag, and ruffled his hair before putting on white cotton gloves. He pulled out a foldable box with the name
Death By Sugar on it, and walked upstairs to the parlor. He knocked politely, and the door was opened by a servant boy to reveal a fat man sitting at the head of the small table in a dark suit, and his business partners on either side of him. The fat man barked a sharp, “What do you want?”
Leon bowed.
“I'm sorry to interrupt, sir, but the beautiful young woman a few blocks from here told me she wanted you to have these,” he said with a wink. The fat man's eyes gleamed.
"Bring it here, then." Leon did as he said and carefully set the regular plates before the business men, then placed the deadly one before the fat one. He bowed, left the box on the table, and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Once the door was closed, he took the gloves off and left them on the floor, then pulled his cloak on once more. Back on the first floor, he left two letter blocks on the kitchen counter, where he quickly cleaned up. He almost expected to be found out, his heart was pounding so hard, but nothing happened-no one jumped out at him, no surprise gunmen started after him, and no alarms went off. He sighed in relief.
@Mcmolly@ReaptheMusicLeon parked his black ducati and looked down at his phone when he got a ping, signaling a text message.
Good job. You’ll find the money already transferred to your account.
Leon smiled.
I do my best. Pleasure doing business. Addio.
Addio.
He pocketed his phone and strolled off towards the dorms. He peeked his head in to a dorm he'd had his eye on for awhile, only to find two other people there.
"Maledetto, I guess I'll have to find a different dorm," he sighed, then brightened.
"Ciao, I'm Leon Black."
Member
HannahMontana
