<color=darkred>Cirque arrived at the office building. Inside was Julian Graining, CEO of Hallaway Industries, the nation's top charity corporation. Dermot himself often volunteered at the local animal shelter. However, he was a man that enjoyed his privacy, and as such, his was the only office on the top floor of the large building.
Julian had stayed late, working on miscellaneous projects. It was early enough that the janitorial staff had not yet arrived, but late enough for there to be almost zero workers left. Cirque snuck in through the front door, avoiding the secretary who was out getting coffee, and got into the stairs, knowing the elevator was too dangerous. Nobody, it seemed, used the stairs anymore.
<color=darkred>He arrived on the top floor without a hitch, and he willed his thought bubbles. Cirque chose his thought bubble, 'torture', as opposed to 'terminate' and 'tarnish'. A single throwing knife appeared in his hand. Without a word, Cirque kicked through the door, and before the surprised Julian could do anything, he tossed the throwing knife with pinpoint accuracy, nailing Julian's outstretched hand to the wall before he could activate the alarm. As soon as the knife hit flesh, another appeared in Cirque's hand, much to his delight. This time, he aimed it at a non-lethal part of the poor man's throat, making it so that he could not scream.
With amazing precision, Cirque managed to sink another 47 knives in various nerve endings on Julian's body. Realizing his time limit was almost up, Cirque stated, "Well, Mr. Graining, it seems my time here is over. I really do hate to say goodbye, but..." At this point, Cirque threw his 50th knife, which landed directly in the middle of the charitable man's forehead.
<color=darkred>"...Good night." He finished, walking over and, being careful not to touch it with his fingers, scooped up some of the blood with the card and calmly walked out of the building, the same way he had come. After he had left the building, the throwing knives disappeared without a trace, their 15 minute time limit having expired. It was as if a scarlet firework had gone off in Julian's apartment.
"Hmm," Randall remarked as he walked away. "Maybe I should've taken an eyeball. Would've made a nice prop." He sighed, and headed over to collect his payment.
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<color=blue>Meanwhile, in a very different office building, Garrett was in the middle of one of the biggest moments of his young life; he was one speech away from taking over Prescott Inns, one of the leading inns in the country. Clearing his not-stabbed throat, he stood up.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let me just start by saying that, just for showing up here, in the beautiful city of Eurasia, you are truely LAYING WASTE TO THE CITY!!"
<color=blue>What followed was a several second long awkward silence, before a single man uttered, "What?"
<color=blue>"ER-" Garrett stammered. He could no longer remember his speech; Oliver's message was just ringing in his head, and this quickly led to self-doubt. Oh god, what do I do now?!, he thought urgently. He had no intention of repeating Oliver's voice out loud! he tried to stammer something, anything to redeem himself.
"Wh-what I mean is, er, kinda..."
<color=blue>Several hours later, Garrett stormed out of the building, ripped off his tie, and headed for the nearest bar.
