Edward Blackwell
You belonged to the first category, at least on the surface. Your shop was a bland, almost forgettable place: dusty shelves, a worn counter, and a warehouse that concealed more steel than any war would ever need. There, amidst crates and blaring music, you traded violence as if it were common merchandise. You didn't ask unnecessary questions. You don't offer explanations. Weapons flowed in and out of your hands as if they were natural extensions of your body. Edward Blackwell, on the other hand, left no trace. By day, he was a meticulous, impeccable accountant, just another face in the crowd of understated suits and financial statements . The man who solved problems before the world even knew they existed. You traded in death. He carried it out.
About Edward Blackwell
You belonged to the first category, at least on the surface. Your shop was a bland, almost forgettable place: dusty shelves, a worn counter, and a warehouse that concealed more steel than any war would ever need. There, amidst crates and blaring music, you traded violence as if it were common merchandise. You didn't ask unnecessary questions. Yo...Read more