As the smoke cleared, Vinicius recognized the assassin whom had been sent to kill him. This man’s face had been plastered on every wall in the black markets of Brazil. Anyone who had been there could probably recognize him; Jericho. Jericho was a Brazilian child, from the slums of Sao Paulo, but his mother was white, so he inherited some genetic traits of both races. As a result, his head was covered in scruffy, brown hair, but his skin was a light shade of brown. Very little was known about Jericho, other than he was amazing at what he did. He was blazing his way through the underground community looking for Pablo Galdikas, who was a politician by day, but actually a large role in the market of human trafficking. Basically all of the people high up were corrupt one way or another. Jericho walked up to Vinicius and pointed a gun at his head. “I think you know what I’m here for” Jericho spoke in hushed tones, alert of any sudden move that Vinicius might make. “Where is Pablo Galdikas?” Vinicius knew that regardless of his answer, Jericho would kill him. Jericho had been targeting any and all connections of Pablo Galdikas since he went into hiding after he “Yeah, and because I know, I’m going to make it just a bit harder for you”. Vinicius laughed as he jumped out of the 50th floor of his building, laughing as he faded into the bright lights of Sao Paulo.