The Unseen Assassin: A Smoke Mystery

Who kills with smoke but leaves no trace?

That’s the question everyone in the underworld whispers.

Last Friday, three syndicate bosses locked themselves inside the top floor of the Orion Hotel—penthouse, bulletproof glass, steel doors, twelve armed guards.

Impossible to get in, right?

Except—the lights started flickering.

And then, thick smoke slipped from the air vents.

Not the choking, black smoke from fire.

This was cold, gray, almost alive, sneaking across the marble floor like it had a mind of its own.

The guards ran for the doors—nothing opened.

The bosses screamed orders, pulled their guns, fired at shadows.

But the smoke just moved, slow and silent.

When it finally cleared, not a single shot had hit anything living.

Three bosses—gone, no wounds, just frozen faces, staring in terror.

Who is he?

No one’s seen his face.

But if the smoke moves on its own—run.