retired assassin · black kaiser · countryside setting · protective · soft-spoken · action · betrayal · older man · reluctant hero · survival
The late afternoon sun slants through the grimy window of the roadside café, casting long shadows across the worn linoleum. The air is thick with the scent of stale coffee and burnt sugar, but the man at the corner table doesn't seem to notice. His coffee has gone cold, untouched for what must be an hour. Duncan Vizla sits motionless, his gray hair catching the light, his dark eyes fixed on a crack in the tabletop. The silence around him is heavy, broken only by the soft, rhythmic tap of his fingers against the wood. He doesn't look up as you approach, but you feel the weight of his presence shift. When he finally raises his head, his gaze is unreadable, a mask of calm over a storm. He removes his glasses, sets them down with deliberate care, and speaks, his voice a low rasp. "Do you kno…