It's about time for a new fic! And let me tell you, I feel so much more relieved doing this one, thanks to the fact that I'm not restricting myself to a K rating. Don't get me wrong, though, I do still immensely enjoy writing The Month from 'H', but I'm sure most of you agree that writing without swearing can get a little on the difficult side. Anyway, a few notes before we get started.

*I'm limiting myself to working on three fics at a time, so this is going to be the last one I'm working on for a while, at least until I finish with one of these.

*As you probably can figure out from above, this fic is going to be rated T, for violence, minor swearing, and maybe some pairings (not sure who as of the time this was posted).

*This fic is going to be in POV (point of view) format. It's my first time doing it in this format, so excuse me if it's a little on the messy side.

This fic is actually inspired by The Mouse of Anon's fic called The Truth Revealed. With some changes, obviously. Anyway, I believe that's probably it, so here we go. Enjoy!

POV: Rigby

*sigh*

I couldn't take it anymore. I've been sitting on my butt for the past half hour, staring into a scope. I guess when you spend most of the time standing on chairs, sitting on one for a long period of time tends to hurt way more than normal. Seriously, though, if he doesn't show up in the next five minutes, I'm leaving. The money totally isn't worth the pain I'm going through right now.

You know what? Screw it. I'm just going to pack it in and wait until tomorrow. I've still got another three days to complete the contract anyway, so there's nothing wrong with trying it again next time.

Oh, wait! There he is. I knew he was going to show up eventually. And here I was about to pack it in. Yeah, anyway, I should probably get to adjusting my position.

These adjustments are almost routine at this point after performing it so many times over the past year or so. I decided to start by checking the wind gauge, only to see that I lucked out and there was no wind in sight. I then adjusted the focus on the scope until I could see the target as clearly as I could get it. I only need to move the rifle a couple of inches until the crosshairs meet the target's head. And finally, as I always do before a hit, I cross myself and silently pray for a second. Thankfully, the man has sat down on a bench and still has not yet budged. It's going to make things so much easier for me to do.

I take a couple breaths to prepare, wait a second, and then hold my breath in to steady the scope as I peer through it, crosshairs firmly planted right between the target's eyes. I slowly squeeze the trigger, and fire. A spray of blood shoots out of the back of the man's head as the bullet met its mark exactly where I aimed. And that was that. Another contract done and dusted.

Oh right, I still haven't introduced myself yet. My name is Rigby. At least, that's what my name is in the real world, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I'm 23 years old, and I happen to be a three-foot tall raccoon. Oh, and also I'm an assassin.

Now, I know what you're thinking. How can a weakling like me be a professional killer? Well, the answer's quite easy. You see, the version of Rigby that most of you probably already know about is a lie. It's all an act to hide my true identity. In the association that I work for (which is imaginatively called The Association), I am actually known as Agent 1247. Every agent is assigned a number, which to be honest, seems a little degrading, but hey, I don't complain. Ever since I was ten years old, I was trained by masters of the art, and now, thirteen years later, I'm one of the best agents in the business.

In the real world, I work as a groundskeeper at a park in some godforsaken town in who the hell knows where. Admittedly, it's not too bad of a job once you get past the jerk of a boss, whose name was Benson. Funny, I could easily get behind him and snap his neck five different ways without a sweat, but I know I'm definitely better than that, so I just sit there and take his berating comments without a word. And believe me, it happens a lot when Mordecai and I slack off.

Speaking of Mordecai, I forgot to mention him. He's actually my best friend in the entire world, and I'm not afraid to admit that. I actually met the guy eight years ago when we were both fifteen. I've already completed my training by then, and I was just given my real world identity, so I admit that things didn't go as smoothly at first, as I adjusted to real life. Once I met Mordecai, who was coincidentally looking for a job at the same exact park, we became fast friends, and I finally learned to open up more thanks to him.

Ever since then, we've been sharing a room inside a house within the boundaries of the park. The owner's son, whose name was Pops, also lived in the house with us. He's a pretty nice guy, if a little on the loopy side of things. There's also some other people who work in the park named Skips, Muscle Man, and High-Five Ghost, but I never really interacted with them that much. Maybe I should, though.

Life in the park thankfully hasn't been as dull as I originally expected it to be when I first got my identity. In fact, it's actually been quite interesting. Here, let me explain. Almost every day, the routine starts out normally. Benson gives us our chores for the day, and we complete them (Mordecai and I, though, take a little more goading thanks to our constant slacking off). It strangely almost never seems to go completely smoothly, though, as some mystical being or random occurrence happens, and we end up having to take them on to save the park until the next disaster happens. Mordecai handles most of the physical work involved with that. I've always wished that I could join in, because I'm definitely stronger than I look. I'm actually proficient in three different forms of kung-fu, and I can snap any bone in half cleanly with the right leverage.

I'm also quite fast on all four legs, and my capabilities in strength are unparalleled. But enough about me, I bet you're wondering how I can manage to hide my true identity so well. Well, experience always helps, as I'm sure you probably have figured out. Plus, it's not too difficult to pull your punches when you think about it. I've also been hiding my normal voice as well. Why? You can never be too careful. So whenever I'm in the real world and not out on a contract hit, I've been adopting a higher-pitched voice to prevent anyone from tracing me.

Speaking of contract hits, getting in and out of the house to perform them is actually quite simple when you consider it. I keep all of my weapons in the closet in our room behind a secret panel, along with a state of the art fax machine (the ad says it's whisper-quiet, but really they're just talking out of their ass) that I've been using to receive my contracts. The Association has always believed that a minimal arsenal is needed for agents to perform their best, so all I actually have in terms of arms is a specially modified collapsible M40 sniper rifle (which was made smaller for someone of my stature), a pair of Silverballer handguns, and a couple knives in various lengths. I kind of wish I had more, but what can you do?

Anyway, once nighttime hits and everyone is asleep, I sneak out of bed and grab the suitcase and contract out of the closet. I normally sleep on an old trampoline every night, so it's a testament to my ability that I can get out of it without making any noise. It helps that Mordecai is a heavy sleeper, but I'm getting off topic here. I'll admit that I must be the luckiest raccoon in the world, because each night that I receive a contract, someone has for some reason left the ladder leaning next to the window in our room, so it's simply just me grabbing the ladder and moving it closer to the window for me to climb down, as well as back up once I return.

Little did I know that that insignificant ladder would lead to one of the biggest adventures I've ever had in my young life.

And that's the end of Chapter 1. Thanks for sticking with me until the end. I'm not a huge fan of how this chapter turned out (as I have said, I'm rusty writing in this style), but I'm sure things will be turning out much better later once I get some more experience writing in POV format. Anyway, tell me what you think. Does this seem like an interesting concept? Anything I could have done better? I'm open to any suggestions.

See you guys later in Chapter 2, when things will really ramp up in intensity!

RK