Lilith’s phone vibrated as she got a new text from one of her regular clients, requesting information on the more illicit activities going on in some famous phone company. She glared at it, grabbing it and texting them to bother her during her work hours. Right now was her downtime. She took a sip out of the bottle of rum that she had stolen from Adrian’s house, making sure to keep herself fairly sober. To be fair, she had left a twenty on his kitchen counter, in the spot where it had stood before. Besides, it was his fault for not locking his window before he went out, even if his apartment was on the second floor of an inhabited building with actual staff. Something the raven-haired female was lacking. To her defense, there was a tree beside his window, and many thieves lived around anyways, so she did him a favor by locking it on her way out. She had used the door this time, once she was sure no one was there at the moment. 

Currently Lilith was wrapped up in her quilt, her arms free but still somewhat restricted, just enough so that she could still take a drink and tap her cellphone screen. Her eyes were fixed to the window beside her bed. There were drunks, thieves, and gangsters alike littering the gray, gloomy streets, each going about their own business. The thieves and pickpockets stole from the gangsters, who in turn beat them up once they found out, while the drunks laughed, cried, told their life stories, and screamed at her window, shrieking that there was a ghost in the building. Okay, maybe she didn’t look that great, considering there were light circles under her eyes, she was pale from lack of Vitamin D, and her hair was tangled up. Still, they must’ve been really drunk if they thought she was a specter, either that or mentally retarded, which was a valid excuse. She smirked, watching one of the gangsters beat up a drunk who had screamed about her in his ear.

Her apartment wasn’t that far from the ground, only the third floor, so she clearly saw Asian characters on the gangster’s arm. Japanese, if she was correct. She’d seen the characters before, when her dad had invited an Asian man to dinner so they could talk about some mafia-related business. He had a similar tattoo on his neck. Lilith opened up Google Translate to make sure. The tattoo was Japanese for yakuza, Japanese organized crime. He was probably visiting. The apartment building shook and plaster rained down from the ceiling. Lilith looked out of her window once more. The yakuza member had just thrown the drunk into the building, and the drunk’s sober friends had started fighting with the guy. They were dangerously close to the building. She honestly didn’t care what happened to them, but she couldn’t let them destroy her house. Lilith jumped out, brushed her hair quickly, grabbed her protective gear, her dagger, her imported Beretta 9000S, and ran out the door.