1044 Cause of death: Hera.

"Ugh…" the hitman crawled his way to some place safe. He was shot in the leg as he was caught off guard. Regardless of his fast reflexes, the place they were in was an open area. Thus, he didn't find an immediate place to hide.

"Damn it," he cursed through his gritted teeth, clasping his fist on the rough concrete. "Damn it!"

The gunfire stopped, and only its echoes remained, but the man knew it was far from over. All he could do was curse the middleman with his heart out. He didn't catch the person inside the container, but it didn't matter. It could be from Interpol or some business rivals. It didn't matter. 

What mattered was his life.

Quite the irony from a man whose job was to take other people's lives.

"Hey, hey!" Primo called cockily, marching in the man's direction. When he reached the person, he stepped on his back to stop him. "Do you really think you'd go far if you crawled like that?"