Everything from the blood and the smell of sweat was enough to make bile riddle in anyone's throat- all except for Alfred and Matthew. The stench of bodily fluids was more than a usual occurrence, the same ruling applied for the mottled blood stains that lingered on their clothes, visible even on black so they'd noticing even the cloth's texture managed to alter due to mingling with the blood of the duo's latest kill.

At first this was from the career they had in mind but after countless betrayal from many-a-person. By now half of their sanity had been derived from their minds, creating reckless souls—souls which many would assume to have not a single care in the world—with a vast lack of emotions.

Neither would deny the thrill of the kill, the sharp rush of adrenalin that pulsated through their veins with every single violent outburst causing a frenzy to rile their blood. Even as another's crimson liquid smeared spectral skin.

In truth Matthew's fondness of such a career was all too bizarre, his nature all those years ago; a frail outline, barely noticed. Now he was noticed as an adequate assassin by acquaintances that resided the turbulent streets. For his Brother, Alfred, it was of course still surprising, especially considering his once adopted 'Hero' title.

All of this was just what brewed in the past. But now a new kind of concoction was in process.