Beautiful music strummed off gentle hands made strong with practice. A refreshing voice cut through the musky dirt air of the desert. Fresh sake flowed as the boom of male laughter disturbed the crashing waves. A simple party was held, their festive nature a serenade to the bothersome sun. A group of men was drinking in a nearby establishment known for its beauty in both girls and views. The afternoon was upon them, the sun beginning its final call. Bitter that these plebs drank to his demise, it cast a last bit of heat upon the small village.
The party in question wasn't so important. Bunch of upstarts and sellswords whose recent success made them feel invisible. With the beautiful women at their arms pouring drinks and feeding them delicacies from the moon who wouldn't feel jovial and empowered? They sat there like mongoloid breeds of pig and monkies, their chests sticking out their clothes, sweat running down their foreheads. Disgusting really. They were all but mere men. The real deal was the man of the hour. A man leaned out by self-discipline and driven by boundless ambition.
He was but a name at the bottom of the list but one day he could rise to the top. His name was Hiragaya Menma, the one who had begun to unite the mercenaries under his own banner. Sellswords without any loyalties were easy to hire. If the one thought 10 ryo wasn't enough there were hundreds of others who would do it instead. Now, when they banded together, their services became more expensive. In the future, if their power grew, gold might not be the only thing they wanted. Their influence might grow and their demands become bigger. This could not be allowed, not from those without morales and their scales tipped by gold.
The room he was in was heavily guarded. Not only was his top lieutenants were there drinking with him but additional guards were inside as well as outside the room. Not to mention he was on the third floor of the brothel with each staircase being guarded. To launch a full-scale assault would be easy enough but this had to be an assassination. Create a martyr out of him and the mercenaries might band stronger together. Reveal who sent them and they might band against the Sun with their rivals.
Many options had been considered, poison. No, he had a food tester. Hitting him during his travels? He was a smart man, using doubles to travel between destinations. He was careful about who he trusted and never revealed everything. He was in a foul mood, rumors of him possibly being targetted by some group. He grunted at the girl next to him. A beautiful girl with yellow eyes, short black hair, and pink lips. She stood up slowly and left the room to get the man more wine.