When a Hitman Gets Haunted by a Ghost
Chapter 79: Not Your Subtlest Spy

Chapter 79: Not Your Subtlest Spy

Gabriel stayed frozen, not daring to breathe.

Just as Joshua was about to look, there was a splash. Followed by a sharp intake of breath and something shattering.

Gabriel flinched at the outburst, trying to guess what had happened.

The evil spirit stood over Sam, who had jerked back in his seat, his entire front drenched in steaming coffee.

The cup lay in shards on the floor, the rich scent of roasted beans overtaking the office.

Sam stood, muttering curses through clenched teeth as he patted his stained suit jacket.

"What happened?" Joshua moved quickly to fetch the napkins from the kitchen corner.

Hale, smug and unapologetic, walked to Gabriel’s side, immensely pleased with himself.

"My hand slipped," he said airily, smiling at Gabriel like a grandpa who had sneaked his grandson candy while the parents weren’t looking.

Sam left for the bathroom, and Joshua was on his heels with promises to bring him a towel. The office was empty once again.

Gabriel plopped on the floor, his pulse still racing. He ran a hand over his sweaty forehead and through his hair, sighing heavily. "Give me a few seconds."

Hale didn’t mind, murmuring to himself about loyalty and the strength of beliefs.

"Did you see anything on the papers?" Gabriel questioned.

"Indeed! The numbers Joshua listed for Sam are nowhere near the amount of cash in the safe," Hale announced proudly.

He paced, on top of the world. "I understand now. Joshua is using the money to rebuild Lazarus Blessing! His efforts will save it!"

Gabriel wasn’t so sure about that, but he wasn’t about to argue. All he wanted was to get the ledger and get out of there.

"Alright, I’m ready. Where do I go?"

"This way, child!" Hale flicked his sleeves and marched out like a general on happy pills.

Gabriel scrambled out after him, trying to be as stealthy as one could while walking on knees made of jelly.

There was a strange commotion down the hall right outside Sector C, but it gave Gabriel a chance to cross the hallway unnoticed.

The door to the storage room was ajar. While it was suspicious, he wasn’t going to risk staying out in plain sight. Gabriel crouched and quietly slipped inside.

He hid between the shelves, peering through the gap between the boxes. There was the scarred guy he’d seen at the bar twice now and the barman who had poisoned Gabriel.

"Liam and Elijah," Hale murmured next to him. "They are here to check on the Angel’s Trumpet in the inventory."

Menacing steps thudded outside. The doors were forced open one by one. Someone was searching for something.

"I’ll go check." Elijah moved fast, but didn’t make it to the door before someone barged in, holding a gun against his head.

Elijah raised his arms, pretending to back away, but then whipped out his own gun, pointing it right back at the intruder.

A gruff voice laughed, pushing forth, deeper into the room. "There you are!"

Gabriel recognized it easily. Hunter.

Why was everyone he knew suddenly gathering in the cult like it was some high school reunion event?

"What a nuisance." Hale shook his head. "Wait here, I’ll go make sure Sam and Joshua don’t come near. They cannot find you here!"

As soon as the evil spirit was gone, the barman panicked and pressed the alarm button under the table.

The door slammed shut, and a reinforced metal barrier slammed down from the ceiling, locking them inside.

Hunter cursed at the door, while Elijah cursed at the barman. "Are you dumb? You just locked us all in here!"

"The alarm was supposed to start blaring! We need help!" The barman retorted.

"It only opens from the outside!"

Gabriel craned his neck to get a better look, but from his angle all he could see was Hunter’s arm and Elijah’s side profile.

"How do we get out?" Hunter demanded, gripping his gun.

The barman stammered, "When J-Joshua notices, he’ll let us out."

Hunter asked gruffly, "And when’s that?"

"He... He had a meeting, but it should be done soon?"

Hunter rolled his eyes. "You askin’ me or was that a statement?"

"...A statement?"

Gabriel kept still, waiting for Hale to come back and deal with this.

The last eight hours had him so stressed that a headache was inevitable. He quietly reached into his pocket, fingers brushing over the little packet with two painkiller tablets.

Very slowly, he popped one from the strip. The faint click of foil peeling back echoed louder than it should have. He winced.

At first, the silence stretched. Then clothes shuffled as if everyone had turned in his direction at once.

However, nobody came to check.

Instead, movement erupted around Elijah. There was some struggling, and the next time Gabriel stole a glimpse of the scene, Elijah’s gun was in another man’s hand, pointed back at him.

"Easy, now." Elijah sneered, but there was tension in his jaw. "Didn’t we agree to leave the weapons out of this?"

"I never agreed to anything," the fourth voice muttered.

The air turned electric. Gabriel knew that voice. He peered out.

Kant stood there. Gun in hand, aimed steady. But something was wrong. His posture was rigid, like something held together purely by force. The skin on his knuckles was stretched pale over the grip.

And his eyes.

Gabriel remembered that look from when they’d first spotted the scarred man at the bar. It was the stare of cold rage that sent a chill down his spine.

"You’ll regret it if you let him go again," Hunter muttered to Kant, approaching the desk, where the barman was hiding. "With a history like this, it’s either you or him. Finish him off so we can move on with our lives."

Kant didn’t react. Not even a flicker. A slow breath left his lips. His fingers twitched on the trigger.

Gabriel felt sweat bead at the back of his neck. This was not good.

Where was Hale? Why was he always around to bother Gabriel at the worst possible times, but gone at the most crucial moment?

The air was so stiff that the dust seemed to be stuck mid-flight, unable to settle.

The barman shrank back helplessly. "Please, d-don’t kill me."

Hunter leaned in, watching him like a fish on a hook. "Give me one reason why I shouldn’t."

Gabriel drew a slow breath, interrupted by the click of a gun being drawn. The tablet slipped from his fingers, bouncing once against the floor before rolling out into the room.

It bumped against Kant’s boot with a soft tap, spinning in lazy circles before settling.

For a second, nothing happened.

Then Kant blinked. A slow furrow of his brow. His gaze tracked the tablet’s path, following it to the gap between the boxes. Up to Gabriel’s face.

Their eyes locked. Kant’s widened. His grip on the gun loosened slightly.