New World II

"This is a mistake."

"Like hell, it is. You said blueberry maple syrup on the waffles."

"No. I said, "Hey, Maggie, can I get waffles with maple syrup." and you replied, "What kind?" and replied with, "I don't know. Blue-" Oh, shit, yeah. Sorry about that, Maggs."

Maggie had a condescending look on her face as she placed the plastic tray atop the counter. "Yeah, yeah. Enjoy your meal. Dick." She said, emphasizing his nickname amongst the people of Lisbon Valley.

Dick merely scratched the back of his head and headed towards their table, tray in hand. Noticing Garth on the corner of the diner, he strutted forward, dismissing the contemptuous looks other customers were giving him.

"Nice," Garth smile reached his ears as he hurriedly grabbed his shake and drank it to half-full with a content sigh. "Oh, you're right. It really is good."

Having a mouthful of pure-grade quarter-pounder and American cheese is, to him, the best kind of food to have in one's mouth whenever one's contemplating on a job offer. Much more for job offer that could save actual lives, not just indirectly, but the 'meeting your savior and thanking them' kind of saving. Now, he wasn't in this job for the praise, but a bit of it certainly wouldn't hurt.

"So," His partner started as he took a bite of tofu salad before coughing it back into the bowl, disgust on his face as he dry heaved. "This is fucking evil. Anyway, any thoughts about my job offer?"

"About that," Garth replied, breathing out a sigh to motivate himself. "I don't think I'm the right person for the job."

"Why so?"

"Well, first off, I'm pretty new to the job."

"So? I don't need experienced guys. I need hunters I can trust."

"Alright. Second, well, I don't have a second reason. It's just... when my cousin Vinny was offered a job at IBM, he got super excited about it. He couldn't sleep and did all that. He thought it was like a dream come true and he'd be great on it. Well, the first day comes along and he's just weirded out and felt out of place on the job, "Too much computer and not too much talking." He told me. You know what I mean?"

Tack!

"Here you go, Dick. Extra plate of pancake from the boss." A dark-skinned waitress interrupted him, placing a steaming plate next to them with a wink before leaving them alone.

He saw Dick smile wide as he envelop his pancake and dip it into his nacho before swallowing it whole. "Mhhh. Sho good!"

Garth smiled as he too grabbed his sweet fries and dipping it into his ice cream before savoring salt and sweet flavor of the two fighting off in his tongue.

Dick cleared his throat, dusting off his hands. "Anyway, I know what you mean, Garth, and I'm glad you feel that way."

"You do?"

"Yes, because that means you think you have some improvements to do or even feel inadequate enough to bring your 110% to every hunt." Dick's voice turned serious, his eyes firmly locking onto his. "It means that you won't let me down because deep down. Deep beneath that soft fleshy exterior and that hug-friendly interior is a man of focus, commitment, and sheer fucking will."

"Y-Yeah, I am." He replied, motivated by Dick's little spiel. He knew Dick was right and the only thing keeping him from accepting the job was the fear of losing his now only way of living. What if he failed? What if he gets Dick killed? What of better hunters? He could bet dollars to donuts that Bobby had dozens of better hunters he would call before him. But maybe, just maybe, a thought entered him that maybe he could do it. Dick was right, even his previous hunts, although a failure, he never gave up on them. The worst of them had the monster leaving the town alone. "So, do we need to sign a contract or just shake on it?"

"Oh, no. I don't trust legal bonds or mutual trust that affect my future." Dick smiled. "We're doing a pact!"

●●●Frog's Junkyard●●●

A few days had come by when Irwin had ingratiated himself, quite easily at that, to Archibald, allowing him to gain a foothold in his campaign to gain a hunter network of his own. And one of the easiest way to achieve such goal was to make use of the burgeoning development of the internet. If he could establish himself a secure private website to track, message, and employ other hunters who have access to the website, then he would have enough leeway to transfer the online assets on to the real world. By then, it would be easy to locate a physical location as any warehouse in a Podunk town would be good enough if placed enough magical wards. To do that, then he needed help, and not just any help from any hunters. His next plan was to travel to the North East and visit Ash, the tech-whiz hunter.

But right now, he was just the hedonistic playboy of a well-known werewolf family, so he needed someone to vouch him in. Someone trustworthy and helpful, yet has a childish streak to him, someone like Garth.

"Are you sure about this?" Asks Garth as they scour the junkyard for signs of life.

"Yeah. Annalise saw four people when she was bitten. The Ancestor, Eleanor, and Wallace for three, so we're missing one. And, since we killed the Ancestor, that means the fourth one, most probably a Lisbon Valley native, is holding up somewhere and dying." Irwin explained as he aimed his Winchester M12 at the yellow van before him.

Although Garth had agreed on his job offer and knew of his trustworthiness, it would never hurt to be more careful since the Archangels would, in a couple of years, descend unto Earth and walk amongst them. For creatures such as them, mutual trust or legal binding were nothing but thin fleece, readily severed. He needed something strong and incorruptible, so he figured the Trade Shop had items or spells like those. But he needed someone to trade and, lo-and-behold, a missing werewolf on the streets of Lisbon Valley.

"You got the stink bomb ready?" He asks of his partner, still aiming for the yellow van.

"Yeah, this one?" Garth produced a metal flask, shaking it for a second, and asked, which Irwin replied with a nod. Garth then threw the flask under the yellow van as it suddenly pop and emitted a light green smoke.

No sooner did Garth throw the flask than a splutter of cough and roars were heard from inside the van.

"Get the fuck out of there, Wolfie." Irwin cocked his shotgun in threat. When a few seconds passed and no one came out, Irwin aimed his gun at the backdoor of the van and unloaded six shells. "... you still alive, Wolfie?"

"Rawr!" a roar thundered from within the van before a figure burst forth, leaping towards Irwin. Its claws slashing towards him, but not before the successive gunshots tore into him. The figure lost its momentum and skidded sideways, its bod smoking from the silver bullets sent in him.

Garth tried to say his catchphrase. "Now, he's been G-."

"Jesus. Garth, you need to stop doing that shit. It'll never catch up."

"I beg to disagree."

Irwin shook his head. "I'll handle disposal for him. Then we'll meet up and talk to the mayor."

"What? Why?" Garth asked, confused why he had to be with him.

"Well, you're gonna be with me here for a long time and people will get suspicious about why an FBI agent is hanging around the richest family in town. Not that they need anymore bullets on their gravy train." He explained his reasoning as he rifled through the pockets of the werewolf corpse. He found an ID for the werewolf and, according to his memory packs, this one was the son of a local fisherman. An antisocial stoner who sells weed to the local highschool. "Plus one on my Heaven points, then. At least, until 2016."

"Look, I may not know much about hunting 101, but every hunter I met told me to leave town as soon as the hunt was done. Never want to meet other people after I kill one of them." Garth retorted, eyes darting around for witnesses.

"Yeah, usually. But you're gonna be working for me and we'll be hanging around the Manor for a while. So we're gonna need you to placate the mayor, tell him it's safe now, and it's just some wild animal that escaped a zoo nearby."

"You think they'll buy that?"

"...Yeah..." Irwin replied after a while, his voice cracking at the last second. 'It's Supernatural, they have to but it.'

●●●●●●

Irwin waved off Garth as he leaves the junkyard, that was after placating him four more times. It was still jarring to see a much less confident Garth in action, but it was understandable, seeing as this hunt was only his fifth one. Still, he knew deep down that he could mold him into becoming the Garth he will be in further seasons. Even without Bobby dying, Garth would be more than his equal. At least, that's what he hopes to happen.

"With my luck, He'll be another goddamn Gordon Walker." Irwin sighed before shaking it off and putting his attention towards the werewolf corpse. "Trade Shop."

■■

[Trade Shop]

[Please Select And Specify The Item You Wish To Trade]

■■

"This bitch." He said as he kicked the wolf, but saw no response. 'Oh, sorry. The werewolf."

■■

[Trade Accepted]

[Trade List Incoming...]

■■

As soon as the list appeared within his sight, Irwin filtered it to only include contracts and the likes which narrowed it down to the hundreds. The list, of course, only listed the low-leveled items since the werewolf was a newborn and was rather weak.

"Alright. Ew, no."

"That's pretty good. Oh, ugh. I don't want to go to the Alps."

"Ok, this is just for racist cultist. Why would you show me this?"

"Who has time to blend hemlock with the blood of a mountaineer?"

"Faustus? This is just a demon deal with extra steps."

"Ok, awesome name and pretty practical." After moments of browsing the list, varied emotions fluctuating on his face, Irwin decided on an item, which he clicked.

■■

[Sancus' Corpus Protectoris [Vol. I]: A divine contract created by a Sabine High Priest to protect merchants from being betrayed by their mercenary guards. The contract is but a blank scroll to be filled with specifics by both the contractor and the contactee, and activated upon the drop of both their blood.]

■■

"Ugh, goddamn weak-ass werewolf." He groaned, seeing that he could only trade one for the werewolf's body, which he did. Hearing the system prompt and the contract being placed upon his Trade Counter, Irwin left the junkyard, not waiting for the corpse to disintegrate like the other two times he had traded.

●●●City Hall Parking●●●

Irwin could not help but laugh at Garth's oversized black suit like a middle-schooler showing up for his dream job. "I-I can't believe you-you came in the sherif's office and told them you were an agent looking like that."

Garth scoffed, looking at his outfit for a second before diving to the back of the car and pulling out a grey trench coat. "You know what? You are mean."

"Hah. C'mon, head to the sherif's office and tell him the investigation's all fine and dandy while I bribe the fucking mayor." He halted his laugh, wiping away the tear on his eyes and opened the door to his car.

"Wait? You're gonna bribe the mayor?"

"Yeah, pretty much. There's gonna be a reelection in a few months and the owner of the general store back in Main street's a favourite candidate." He heaved out with a grunt, stuffing his suit pocket with a piece of paper. "C'mon."

Irwin swaggered towards the two-storied opulent building crafted out of marble. Its entrance houses two bonsai trees surrounded by a bamboo themed wall and guarded by an olive-skinned, muscular bald man.

"Hey, Erik." Irwin greeted with a nod, to which Erik nodded back before resuming his duties.

Clang! Whoosh!

As soon as Irwin entered the building, the redwood interior and chilly breeze of the large air conditioner assailed both his senses. The tiled floor squeaked as he neared the register where a middle-aged woman greeted him amicably, urging on the other person in line.

"Give me a moment, Richard." She smiled apologetically before returning to the man in line.

Irwin scoured the room, taking in its insipid decoration. Almost as if the man in charge wanted to display his wealth and power, but had no one by his side to explain why his taste in art was as terrible as Hitler's. His eyes darted towards the floating chandelier as a tiny paper dragon danced around the candlewicks.

"Nah, I'm just gonna talk to Cherry a bit. See ya, Ruth." He waved her off as he jogged up the staircase leading to the second floor.

His steps on the steps resounded on the much more deserted second floor as his eyes came upon the less gaudy decorations. An ornate sofa, gilded and fashioned out of redwood, with two chairs of the same design, surrounded a glass coffee table stacked with magazines, as it overlooked the French window that showed the coast of the North Pacific Ocean. In the corner of the room beside the door to the bathroom stood a large table bedecked with treats, sweets, and miscellaneous drinks.

Titillating moans reached his ears as he crossed the room, egging him on to move forward. A gilded cubicle appeared before him as a light-skinned redheaded woman moaned sporadically, her hands steepled as if in prayer. Her full head of hair swung backwards once she heard his footsteps, revealing her brown eyes and thin lips, clad in a brown halter top and short tight skirt that rode up to her inner thighs. Freckles dotted her cheeks across her roman nose.

"O-h god, h-hey, Dick!" she greeted, biting her lips in sheer pleasure. "Hey, babe, why don't you take a break?" She looked downwards, addressing the person below.

A beautiful brunette stood up from her previous position below her desk as her tongue lick Cherry's exposed navel, tracing it upwards to her hard nipples before stopping at her lips. The two made out in front of him for an entire minute, tongues clashing with each other in a show of dominance, before Cherry reluctantly moaned out of her lover's embrace.

"Hmmm, we have company. We can do it later." Cherry said, her voice cracking with hesitation. The brunette smirked as she left the cubicle, her hands gently cupping her lover's breast as it too left her.

"Nice to see you, Dick." The brunette spoke to Irwin with a knowing smile as she passed by him.

Irwin merely nodded in return, watching her ass bounce as she made a turn to the bathroom before returning her gaze to Cherry. "So, you're still a lesbian, huh?"

"Uh-huh. But I'll call you once I turn Bisexual." She quipped, wiping the messed-up lipstick on her face. "What are you doing here? Raped anyone again?"

Irwin's eyes went wide as he spluttered a forceful laugh while searching for his memories of any signs of sexual assault which he found none. "What? No, I don't rape people, Cherry. Jesus christ."

"Who am I to know? Daddy and Uncle Archie are all hush-hush about your shit." She hummed, shrugging her shoulders at his reaction. "So? Why are you here?"

"I need to talk to your daddy- Nope, to Mayor Greene." Irwin winced at the Freudian slip. "So, he busy?"

"No, just calling a few people for money. Rymont's got him chapped." She grimaced before returning to her work. That is, if her work was to check her Myspace account, then she's an exemplary employee. "Go on in."

Irwin nodded, going past her cubicle and entering the thick wooden door.

●●●●●●

The past month had been a tough one for Marcellus Greene and his political influence in Lisbon Valley. First came the Laughrie Rymont's surprise candidacy for the upcoming mayoral election with the Lisbon High school board and Mason's Association backing him up; next came the sudden disasters that hit America with freaky electrical storms, cattle mutilations, and even animal attacks in urban cities that scrambled almost all federal governments and made them scratch their asses in confusion; and, finally, a federal agent coming into town, dredging up the town's skeletons and even bothering the only family in town that could keep his ass in the seat.

Sure, he could have stalled the federal agent until the Greythornes had covered up whatever they did, but he had no time to do so. In fact, the moment Sherif Donovan broke the news to him, the agent had already been invited to the manor.

Before he could think of it further, a series of rapid knock and the opening of his door brought him out of his musings, his gaze training on the brown hair and blue eyes of the heir to the Greythorne fortune, Richard.

"Trouble again, Richard?" He asks mirthfully, hiding his contempt on the boy skillfully.

The boy shook his head with a laugh, closing the door and sitting on the cashmere chair opposite him. "No, sir. Just here to inform you of a friend of the family staying here for a longer duration than usual."

His words intrigued Greene. It was not too often that the playboy heir would speak to him about business. Hell, he figured he came here for help to halt another sexual harassment lawsuit from another city. "Is he a mutual friend of ours?" He asked tentatively.

"No. A friend of mine from the Bureau," He replied, a knowing smile on his face. "Came here to investigate a string of... animal attacks and, uh, confirmed it as such. But, uh, let's just say, he fell in love with the Valley."

Mayor Greene hummed, a hand stroking his chin and its feeble hair. "I assume this friend of ours doesn't have any... transgression from his previous employer?"

"No. He's retired, in fact. And will now be handling all of our security problems." He replied, placating his worries.

"Alright. Thank you for, uh, informing me of the decision." Mayor Greene said in a grateful tone before a relieved laugh came out of him. "That's one shit out of my 99 problems."

The heir merely smiled politely before changing the subject. "I hear Laughrie Rymont recently announced his candidacy for mayor. Is that true?"

"Heh. I thought you've known about it for a while now, Richard." Mayor Greene replied, a contemptuous smirk gracing his lips."You seemed to be chummy with his twins, huh? What's that about?"

"There's nothing about it, Mayor. Merely checking if their infamous stupidity is as horrendous as rumored." The blue-eyed heir replied in kind, waving his hands dismissively. "In fact, I'm here to inform you to hike up the hills and meet with my father for a... chat."

"I would assume this chat would be good for me?" Greene steepled his hands atop his office table, a gleam in his eye as he asked.

"Oh, very much so."

He chuckled at the confirmation, relief washing over his tense body. It would seem that his position would be safe for the time being, cursing himself for doubting the Greythornes and their ever-reaching connections.

'Those fuckers would never be arrested,' he snorted inwardly. 'I pity the folks who stood against' them.

●●●Parking Lot, Long Beach●●●

Irwin moaned in pleasure as he took a bite of his cheeseburger, his tongue caressing the dry meat and artificial cheese. He may not show it much, but Irwin missed all the little things in his previous life, some of which he took for granted. For instance, the way he could just order a full gourmet meal on his phone and it being delivered within thirty minutes; or how whenever he forgets something, he only needed to Google it for a few seconds and, viola, he now knows it; or how he didn't need a book full of binders to schedule his work. His smartphone calendar would do it all on a tap of his finger. Of course, there are other things too, but most of them were too painful to think about.

"Like porn." He unconsciously muttered, taking another bite of his burger.

"What?"

He swayed his head, eyes wide in shock, as his gaze trained onto Garth and his tray full of fries. Although forgetting his company and muttering about pornography whilst pleasuring himself with a bite of a burger was nowhere near the weirdest things he had done, this was still on the top five.

He cleared his throat, mowing down the burger as fast as he could. "Um, nothing. I was just thinking about... uh... how porn evolved through our use of the internet. That's all." Rolling his eyes at his pathetic excuse.

"Anyway, read this and if you like it enough, sign it." He then produced a glossy scroll, rolled up and tied with a red ribbon in a bow, and handed it to Garth, who took it with a curious glance. "It's a contract. A magical one. It states that I promise to give resources, knowledge, and manpower to any hunts or adventures you have whilst in my employ. In exchange, you promise not to betray me or my confidence, intentionally or otherwise; promise to never act with malice, aforethought or otherwise, towards me or my constituents; promise to doll out my every decision, unless it involves you being in extreme harm. Just, you know, the basics."

Garth unfurled the scroll, and to Irwin's surprise, tried to read the scripture in whole. Irwin nodded in approval as he watched Garth mouth the words written within as he mowed down the burgers on his lap and gazing at the people that traversed the beach.

Dozens of women clad in thin pieces of cloth strutted across the sands as other men, like him, gawked at their figures. A particularly busty dark-skinned woman, a red one-piece bikini clinging to her ample assets, caught his leering eyes. Though he tried his best to hide it, she soon saw through his guise as a smile escape her lips. He blushed, noticing that their gazes locked with each other.

"Hey!" He greeted, biting away the sunny smile trying to burst out of face. "How you doing?" He said to his immediate chagrin, bringing his hands to his forehead.

The woman burst into laughter, walking past by them as her shoulders jerked up and down. "You're cute, but no." She turned him down gently.

Irwin nodded in return, removing his attention to other things lest he get further embarrassed.

Children held their parent's eyes, staring wide at the picturesque view of the beach and the waves that assaulted its land. Their excited laughter reverberated in his body, eliciting a chuckle out of him. They reminded him of his nephew, who, whenever given gifts, no matter how small, would squeal in delight and look at him with unabashed fawning; he was a ray of sunshine in his morbid life.

He then remembered his conversations with Dr. Giselle and her unfiltered opinions of him. Their last one being the strangest one, for it started as a debate over the vagueness of film and television content warning and ended with Dr. Giselle stating that his inability to mate or even talk to a woman, stemmed from the fact that he treats the opposite sex with contempt and derision, unconsciously thinking of them as having the same abhorrent personality as her sister.

"Screw you, Dr. G." He muttered as he noticed Garth finishing up with the scroll. "So, how about it?"

Garth hummed in contemplation, placing the scroll atop the picnic table they were sitting on. "I read it. Although your promise of resources and manpower are great, the contract erred more on your side. The part where I can't do anything to betray you seems a bit restrictive."

Irwin nodded. "Don't worry about that. Even if you failed to uphold your end of the contract, the worst it'll do to you is a headache. This is about giving me the chance to react after your betrayal. It kinda pings me once you do something bad."

"Ping?" Garth asked, unfamiliar with the term.

"It lets me know when you purposely break the contract. So, too, do you, actually." Irwin explained the anachronistically improper use of the word. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, the knowledge part. What's that about? If you're thinking of lores and research, then I know a guy who's better than you in that regard."

"And believe you. But what he has is a repository of practical knowledge regarding well-known supernatural entities and, maybe, some rare tomes that relate to the more esoteric entities, though I would bet those tomes to be unfiltered and unread for decades, merely thrown to the side to be read in an emergency." Irwin retorted, a dark gleam in his eye. "What I'm offering is a more precise version of that. Every information and resources at your fingertips, nary a werewolf nor an angel would leave your sight with my help. Trap, contain, kill, destroy, banish, or even controlling these monsters would be in the realm of possibility. Your death will be voluntary, not a fluctuating percentage based on your current hunt. Live a long life rich or die as a poor ignorant hunter? That's your choices, Garth. There's no in between."

Irwin and Garth stared at each other for an entire minute, as the latter contemplated on the former's speech.

Garth shrugged. "Alright, where do I sign?"