Weasel tapped a few final keys, leaned back in his squeaky chair, and smirked. "And done. From now on, you are Rizes Woods—mild-mannered transfer student from Ohio, tragically orphaned in a freak boating accident, average grades, suspiciously clean record" he said as he pass the document to taskmaster
Rize stared at it, blinking. "…I'm from Ohio now?"
"Yup," Weasel said proudly
Weasel handed over a slim envelope and a small, matte-black keycard with a red chip embedded in it "And this is your black market access key. Don't lose it. That thing is worth more than most people's lives, and it opens doors in places that don't officially exist."
Rize took it gingerly, her crimson eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Oooh… it looks like it unlocks a dungeon or something forbidden."
Weasel stared. " That key can get you weapons, cybernetics, experimental tech, or a clone of your favorite K-pop star."
Taskmaster, arms crossed, gave her a side-glance. "Lose it, and you're paying me back with your own organs."
"Oh master, I don't lose things easily," Rize said with a sly grin, flipping the newly printed black ID card between her fingers like a magician showing off a prized trick.
Taskmaster gave a short nod, already turning on his heel. "We're done here. Let's go."
He didn't wait. His boots echoed heavily as he strode toward the exit.
Rize started to follow,She turned back toward Weasel and gave a quick, polite bow of her head.
Weasel blinked, watching her bow with a flicker of surprise as he murmured, mostly to himself, "Huh… didn't expect that from a walking bloodbath."
Outside, Taskmaster was already halfway to the car, not bothering to look back. Rize caught up in a few quick steps, falling into stride beside him, slightly out of breath but smiling like she'd just gotten her favorite toy back.
"Master," she said brightly, "I think Weasel likes me."
"He likes anyone who doesn't try to kill him," Taskmaster replied dryly. "That's a low bar."
"Well, aren't you two just a pair of sunshine and razor blades," she chirped.
"Get in the car."
"Yes, sir, Skull-face!" she said with a mock salute, swinging into the passenger seat.
"So where are we going, Master?" Rize asked as she pressed her face to the car window, staring wide-eyed at the gleaming towers of New York's skyline.
"One of my safehouses," Taskmaster replied, eyes fixed on the road. "You're staying there. A new job's come up one I've decided to take."
Rize's eyes widened in shock. Her head snapped around to face him. "Wait—what?! You're going on a mission without me? But… but that's not fair! we haven't started my training yet,this is really unfair, Master!"
Taskmaster didn't even glance her way. "There's no such thing as fair or unfair in this world. Only survival."
"Ahh… Fine. There's nothing I can do to stop you from going without me," Rize muttered, her gaze drifting once more toward the window. A flicker of frustration crossed her face before she sighed, resigning herself to the situation.
"This is the armory but you are not allowed to touch anything here. Got it?" Taskmaster warned, his voice firm as he gestured around the secured room.
He had already shown and explained every detail—from the hidden back exits to the emergency controls—before departing for his mission. His sharp eyes lingered on her, ensuring the warning sank in.
"Yes, yes. I won't lay a finger on any of these guns," Rize replied, a sly grin spreading across her lips as she leaned lazily against the wall. Her hands rested behind her head, the picture of feigned innocence—but the glint in her eyes promised mischief.
Taskmaster narrowed his eyes at her suspicious grin. "That smile doesn't exactly scream 'trustworthy,' kid."
Rize tilted her head with mock innocence, still leaning casually against the wall. "Come on, Master, have a little faith in your precious disciple. I promise won't touch any of your shiny, incredibly tempting, very weapons."
Taskmaster didn't look convinced.
He walked past her, double-checking the lock on the storage case anyway. "If I come back and find so much as a fingerprint out of place, I'm putting you through hellish combat drills. With knives."
"Oooooh," Rize said, pretending to shiver with excitement. "So romantic."
He shot her a dry look from behind the mask.
With a heavy sigh, Taskmaster finally slung his bag over his shoulder and stepped toward the door. "I'll be back in a couple days. Don't open the door for anyone. Don't leave. Don't start a cult. Don't summon anything."
Rize raised one finger with a smirk. "Define 'summon.'"
The door slammed shut.
She stood there for a moment in the quiet, then turned toward the weapons vault and whispered, "He really should've said please."
Her lips curled into a creepy smile.