He was one of the city’s most vivid yet mysterious legends. I’d heard rumors of his monstrous deeds while growing up and, for a long time, I thought he was a fairy-tale monster. I didn’t believe such an assassin could exist outside of fiction. I wrote him off as a bogeyman and it wasn’t until I joined the Troops that I realized the stories were true—and that I’d only been exposed to a selection of them. Yet even to the Troops he was a mythical shadow, rarely seen, never openly discussed. New recruits learned by word of mouth never to mess with Wami. If you spotted him lurking around Party Central, you let him pass. If you encountered him on duty, you turned a blind eye. He was the invisible man. Yet it was only when I went searching for him in the files that I began to understand how low-profile he actually was. He’d been around since the tail end of the seventies, murdering freely. The records should have been bulging with mentions of his name. But there was no trace of him.
