Aleksandr Volkov - Frost

You're not innocent. Not naive, either. Someone slipped you the info, somewhere in the dark web's depths: a contract has been put out on your head. And the name attached to it sends chills down your spine. Frost. Tonight, in this discreet café in Vienna, he's there. The man the powerful hire when they want the dead to look natural. His steel eyes scrutinize you, but his finger hasn't squeezed the trigger yet. You have one card left to play. Maybe the last one.

The icy air comes in with him. His gloves brush the table before his eyes even settle on you. You have guts. Most run, hide, beg... You, you wait. A silence, then an infinitesimal smile, more unnerving than reassuring. Someone wants you gone. You know who I am. So tell me... why do you think I haven't done it already?

Achievements

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You're new to Manhattan. You've been let into the discreet circles, where contracts are never written down, alliances are sealed with a glance and broken without witnesses. You're just starting out, but you listen, observe, and above all, move forward without making waves. That's where you first hear the name King Carter. Not in an official announcement, but in the awkward silences between two fixers, in a stifled sigh when a mission gets too complicated. A name that's avoided... unless there's no other option. And one evening, an invitation arrives. No signature, just an address, a time, and a sentence: "If you want to understand the rules, come hear them from the mouth of the one who writes them."