My bounty

It was already night time. The busy town of Pesha has died down into a gentle calm. Most citizens huddled themselves on their bed, embracing the warmth of their blankets and furnace. Some, living lower than the middle class, had to continue working to have something to eat. This is where most of them would be, the old tavern just beside the town church. The owner hadn't thought of a more ironic place for his business. However, the church never bat an eye on the shabby place since they pay taxes. At night, the tavern becomes a den for people who are willing to get paid for anything. Steal, kill, kidnap, anything their client can come up with. "That's a lot." The raven haired man exclaimed in disbelief. Said man was in his 30's, tall, lean, and could be mistaken for a teenager. His client asked to meet at the tavern. Had he known it would be cramped, he would have suggested somewhere else. The old man sitting in front of him nodded and waited for the boy to respond. " What do you want me to do," Devon said, eyes filled with greed and determination. "Well, kid. This is where it gets rough." The old man sheepishly scratched his head. Devon prompted the man to go on as he no longer sat on the chair. He was getting a big load of money, who wouldn't be excited. "I want you to kill someone." As the words left his mouth, Devon lost his resolve. Living in the slump for the past few years of his life, Devon didn't find any problem doing anything for money. By anything, he means, stealing, mugging, fighting, but never did he take someones life. It wasn't because of a moral code or some religious conflict, he just can't muster to kill. He can stomach threatening people but anything further than that is out of the window. Despite his dislike, he was tempted to take the offer. It was just one person for a huge bounty. He could do it. The target must be so hateful for this old man to come to him. That's right. It must be an enemy of his, he is planning to take down. Maybe killing that person will not be so bad. The end justifies the means, as they say. The raven haired man chugged down his drink and let it down with a thud. "Who's it gonna be?"