Miho the Killer Chapter 3: Just Name Someone

I woke up to the ding of a toaster, the fragrance of the bread luring out of my bed. The blood stains on my bed quickly reminded of what happened the night before.

My whole body ached although there was nothing I did that was physically straining the day before. Perhaps it was just a lack of sleep and all the action making my muscles tense.

"You up now?", I heard the now sowhat familiar voice call out from the kitchen.

Instead of answering, I slipped into my slippers and ca out of the bedroom.

The killer had laid out a simple breakfast over the dining table, humming to herself, opening my fridge to pick out so jam and butter.

I sat on my usual seat (I don't even know why I bought a table for four and four chairs when I was never going to have any guests), my eyes following the casual movent of the killer lady who showed no sign of fatigue, unlike .

"You want so coffee?"

"Sure."

She then put a capsule into the coffee machine, brought the mug to the table once it was full, and placed it in front of .

"Thank you."

At this point, I wasn't even scared anymore, at least not as much as I should have been.

Is this how a morning feels like when you have soone to share it with?

"Bon appetite", the woman spoke cheerfully and spread the butter on her toast. Looking at the butter knife in her hand, I wondered if she could kill using that too.

"Aren't you going to eat?", she inquired after a minute or so as I still hadn't touched my toast, just taking a few sips of the hot coffee. Black. Strong.

"I'm sorry after you've gone through all the trouble for preparing the breakfast, but I'm not so hungry, to be honest"

"That's a sha."

She then reached over to pick up my toast and piled onto her plate which already had four slices of toast on it.

"You got so real good butter here."

"It is a good brand."

"Imported. It didn't look like you'd be earning a lot in that shitty little office."

"Sorry for working in a shitty little office."

"Pfft, don't be so offended. At least you don't have a bad boss anymore."

I was half expecting that she'd go on to explain exactly why he was a bad boss, but that's where she stopped and she just kept on munching, humming with her mouth full.

"May I ask why you did that to him?"

"Client requests are confidential."

"Client?"

"Yes."

So she's a contracted killer?

I never knew such things really existed. Of course, there were countless movies that featured them, or even entirely based on a killer as the main protagonist, but a contracted killer in Korea? This sounded so absurd and unbelievable.

"I thought those only exist in the movies."

"Not many of us out there. I'm not surprised you are surprised."

"So... you were contracted to kill my boss?"

"Yes. And affirming that I have a contract is not does not compromise the confidence of my client, so yeah, I can confirm that."

"Why...?"

"Now, that's confidential."

"When you were killing him... you were saying stuff. Was it so sort of revenge?"

"I'm not telling you."

"I'm not telling you who called the cops either then. But besides, I don't think I can find out anyhow."

"I suppose then I'd need to kill everyone in your office then."

"Please don't."

"Why should I listen to you?"

The killer lady finished her toast and looked in the eye with an amused grin on her face.

"Because I took you in, treated your wound, and let you stay for a night."

"You didn't quite take in. I broke in. But yes, thank you for the bandaging and letting stay."

"So you won't kill my colleagues?"

The woman placed one elbow on the table, propped up, and rested her jaw on the palm.

"Listen. You can give any na. Just pick soone you hate. I'll get it done and move on."

"You don't really care who it really was?"

"It's more about sending a ssage. Kinda reputation managent within the industry. I'd lose credibility if I just let this slide."

"Sorry, I don't want to be choosing who dies."

Her slight grin evolved into a full smile as she asked,

"But you did enjoy it when you were watching your boss get killed."

"I didn't."

She then placed both of her palms on the table, facing down. Her smile was gone and she glared at with a cold, piercing stare, which didn't make my heart skip in the way that it did the day before. I felt more like a helpless deer facing the approaching headlights, petrified with fear of imminent death.

"Give the na of soone who needs to be killed. This is your last chance."

There is no helping it then.

"Sohee."

"Good. Now give descriptions."

"She's 24 years old. A girl with bob-cut hair. Slight curls. A little short but average weight, probably."

The killer had her eyes locked on , motionless, probing.

"She lives alone. You could probably find her apartnt easily. I think I might even know where she lives. She doesn't really have hobbies. Does nothing on the weekends. So whenever she's not working you could probably find her at ho. An easy target. Should I continue?"

Her lips told to continue without moving.

"Actually, I lied. Sotis she goes to the cinema. Alone. She doesn't really have friends. Well, she used to, but she's not even sure anymore if those were real friends to start with - whatever real friends are."

I took another sip of coffee and placed the mug gently back on the table.

"And she has good taste for butter."

Our eyes were fixed on each other, mine probably trembling a little, while she didn't show any sign of emotions whatsoever. But after a few tense seconds, she took her hands off the table and placed them on her laps.

"Miho."

"...excuse ?"

"My na is Miho."

I took another sip of my coffee, and she did the sa.

What a cool na.