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"Dunno, I've only been to the Dueling Arenas and a few places Off Campus."

Thinking about it, I shrugged it off my mind.

"Alright, this'll be a cake-walk!" I said, twisting my neck and making a cracking sound. I pulled up a chair next to me and sat down in it.

"Uh, pretty much this'll be easy. So let's get started then, what can you show me? Sorry if I'm pushing you, it's just been awhile since I've learned something this...interesting." I said, smiling at her while rocking back in the chair a bit.

I formed the thoughts in my mind.

("Think of something....that'll light up the room. Gotta focus....") I thought to myself.

*click*

I lost my thought process when I heard that. I realised I had just pulled a grenade pin from my side holster.

"...oh sh-"

I ran to the nearest window, plucking the grenade from my side-holster and throwing it as far as I can outside the window. Slamming the window shut, there was an echo of a bang. There was a long silence that followed afterward.

"....uh, sorry. Wrong thought of lighting up the room." I said, looking out the window to see the damage done. There was only a 5 meter wide grass patch missing from the grenade.

"Uh, yeah about that...I don't think they'd mind missing a bit of grass. I mean hey it could've been worse, like the C4 Charge in bag-"

I noiced her expression.

"D-Don't worry about it, the wires are pulled so it won't detonate. I better put the other ones away..." I said, removing a Glock, 2 Fragmentation Grenades, 1 Flashbang, 1 Smoke Grenade, a Switchblade, a Taser Gun and the pouch of throwing knives.

"Weeell, I was involved in a Mercenary League about half a year ago. I can't really tell you where it was, otherwise you and I would be a K.O.S., or in other words, a Kill on Sight. I guess you could say that place was a home, a home I'm not going back to for a lo~ng time. I lived there for 14 years, so I know lots of stuff about warfare. I've also been taught to be armed 24/7, so I guess that kinda explains these."

I then paused for a moment.

"...aw cripes." I muttered to myself, as I pulled out a 9 inch long-bladed knife off the strap around my shin.

"Sorry, forgot about this one too." I said, sticking the blade into the table.

"Not really, you get used to it after awhile. Like me, it feels like there's nothing even there except your clothes." I told her, laughing a bit, but straightening my face again when I thought about her previous question.

"No one is supposed to know where the Mercenary League is, they're just knives in the shadows. You can know them and join them, or you can know them or just be flat out dead." I explained, while checking the loading port and magazine of the Glock.

"True though, killing is never necessary. What's also true though, is killing is always present. Everyone should know this by now though, kill or be killed." I said, setting the sidearm down and picking up the switchblade. I flipped it out of it's safe casing and checking it for knicks on the blade.

("She wouldn't understand though...I had to work with the people that killed my father.") I thought to myself, looking as if I was in a trance.

"Yes...I have." I said, pulling a whetstone out. I slowly slid it down the blade, sharpening it.

"I've lost my dad when I was 7, and he was almost always gone from home, hunting animals or fishing. My mother died of illness, so I was left to take care of the house every day." I said, blowing off fine dust shards from the blade and closing it.

"Eventually, a certain group knew about my dad, and apparently hated him for something he did, so they sent Mercs for him. It was a cold, windy day, and beautiful snow in the forest too. My dad went hunting one day, but noticed there was something strange. The animals were on alert, more than usual. That's when he found out he was being the hunted that day. He shot four, three in the head and one through the heart."

"I heard gunshots, and immediately grabbed the .44 colt my dad always left with me, and I dashed outside seeing bodies littering the ground. It looked like they were the only ones there, so he let his guard down, and got killed by a sniper, a clean shot through his neck and windpipe. I found the sniper's position and shot his trigger finger off. I shot him in the ankles, and as he tried pulling out a sidearm, I grabbed a nearby rock and beated him to death with it."

"That same night, the Mercs hadn't reported back to wherever their Mercenary League hid. I just finished burying my dad next to my mom's grave, when all I heard were footsteps. As I turned around, all I saw was a man aiming a taser at me, and that's when I went out. When I woke up, I was in the Merc's refuge and they forced me to join them, or be killed. And so it was...I was trained with every firearm and weaponry to their disposal, and learned strategy and tactics there, all with a flame in my heart to kill them once I learned what I could."

"However, eventually...I made subordinates, or what we call, friends, there. I was 15 that time, and learned they joined the Mercenary League to kill just to survive. It made sense...it was all they knew how to do. Eventually, they too died when we were on missions together. That's when I packed up and left, and signed a contract with the Mercenary League that wherever I go and whatever I do, if I leak information about their location, the ones holding the information has to be put to death."

I took a long breath, and shook my head to shake off the memories.

"Now I'm just a simple student, working as a part-time job gardener."