James Taylor : Wizard for hire

"Well, that should do it, old timer. I've dealt with all the specters in the train," James Taylor said as he approached the seasoned train operator.

"Specters? I told you to deal with ghosts, not some spec-whatchamacallit," the old train operator rambled, earning a furrowed brow from James.

Suppressing his irritation, James explained to the old train operator that the ghosts he had been referring to and the specters were one and the same. The old man grumbled about James using fancy words, further fueling James's annoyance.

"The train's not haunted anymore?" the old train operator asked, seeking confirmation.

"Yes, they're clear of 'ghosts' now," James replied, emphasizing the word 'ghosts' with air quotes.

"Alright, then that means I can run the train normally now, pick up passengers?" asked the puzzled old train operator. Despite finding James's previous request to halt passenger service absurd, he agreed to it during the ghost extermination.

"Specters – 'ghosts' are lingering spirits of the dead, so even though I've already exterminated them, their ethereal bodies won't dissipate until after a few hours. I suggest you call it a day, old timer, lest you attract something worse with all the negative energy in your train," James advised.

The old train operator sighed but followed James's counsel. Originally planning to stop at the next station and pick up passengers, he decided against it, opting to heed James's warnings.

"Alrighty, old timer, job's done, so I'll be going ahead," James said, waving at the old train conductor.

"Do you need me to stop at the next station?" asked the old train conductor.

"No need," James replied as he disappeared. Seeing this, the old train conductor scoffed, "Young people these days," and continued to drive the train through the ethereal aftermath of James's ghostly intervention.

James Taylor materialized at the next station, a feat only known to him. The specifics of his peculiar arrival remained shrouded in mystery, known only to James himself.

After his unorthodox entrance, he found himself witnessing an unusual scene. On the opposite end of the station, a stalker had cornered someone.

"Well, what do we have here? A stalker and a non-wielder who can see a stalker? You certainly don't see this every day," James Taylor said with an amused smile, his words cutting through the tension and drawing the attention of both parties involved.

The stalker growled at the newcomer, as if asserting, "Back off, this is my prey." However, James paid it no mind and turned his attention to Dylan.

"What's your name, chump?" he asked in a laid-back yet arrogant manner.

Grateful for this unexpected ally, Dylan, his voice betraying nervousness, answered, "Dy-Dylan. My name's Dylan. Mind lending a hand?"

James was amused. He hadn't expected the guy to speak so coherently. It was the first time he had encountered a non-wielder who could see unseen beings. But most encounters with a stalker reduced even rank two wielders into sobbing messes due to its unique disposition. However, this guy, though scared, was nowhere near as terrified as he should be.

"Interesting," James muttered audibly to himself, pondering whether to help the poor fellow. Eventually, he decided to assist but, of course, not without a price. "Five hundred bucks," James said to the young man. "I'll help you for five hundred bucks."

Dylan, taken aback, was at a loss for words. The heck! He's asking me for money? I thought he's supposed to be a good guy, he monologued in his mind but replied immediately. "Done!" Dylan said desperately. "I'll give you five hundred. Just get this—this spider thing away from me."

"Alrighty then," James said with a big smile, slowly advancing toward the stalker. His left hand emitted a deep blue glow, a mysterious power coursing through it. As he walked, he casually rotated his shoulder blades in a motion akin to winding up for an uppercut. The stalker growled in response, as if sensing the impending danger.

"Shut the heck up already. All this growling is hurting my ears," he said to the stalker with a seemingly carefree smile. However, his cold eyes told a different story, revealing a determination and intensity beneath the facade.

The subway station transformed into an arena as James, the enigmatic wizard, faced off against the menacing stalker—a colossal spider with an eyeball for a head now with a gaping maw at the center. The eerie glow from James's left hand, pulsating with mysterious energy, intensified, casting a surreal illumination on the scene. The stalker, sensing a challenge, hissed and lunged at James with unnatural speed.

With a swift and fluid motion, James evaded the stalker's spider-like assault, narrowly avoiding the razor-sharp fangs. The giant arachnid's eye glowed ominously, attempting to disorient James with a hypnotic gaze.

As James effortlessly avoided the assault, he couldn't resist a taunt, "My grandma hits faster than you, and she's got a bad hip!"

In response, the stalker conjured shadows, weaving them into ethereal tendrils that slithered across the platform. James danced around the dark threads, showcasing his agility.

"Shadow play? Cute. But you'll need more than that to catch me," he continued, maintaining his confident banter.

Undeterred, the stalker intensified its assault, combining physical strikes with shadowy projections. James, however, remained a step ahead, utilizing his mysterious energy to predict the stalker's every move.

"Come on, make it interesting for me. This is child's play," James mocked, goading the stalker to unleash its full potential.

The stalker, frustrated by its inability to land a hit, intensified its shadowy onslaught. Shadows twisted and contorted, reaching out to ensnare James. Yet, with a seamless blend of speed and precision, he dodged every attack.

"You'll need to do better than that, my friend. This is getting boring," James chuckled, maintaining his taunting demeanor.

As the battle reached its climax, James harnessed the mysterious energy within his left hand. The stalker, enraged and desperate, lunged with all its might.

"Had enough?" James declared triumphantly, preparing to unleash the full force of his magic against the formidable foe.

Channeling the mysterious energy, James unleashed a surge of power into the stalker, its massive form convulsing as the energy consumed it. The glow from James's hand intensified, casting an ethereal brilliance. The stalker, unable to withstand the overwhelming force, shrieked in agony before dissipating into ephemeral shadows, leaving behind an otherworldly silence.

With the threat extinguished, James turned to Dylan, his friendly smile returning. "There you go, chump. The pest is gone. I told you, five hundred bucks well spent."

Dylan, still in awe of the spectacle he witnessed, stammered, "Th-thank you. That was... incredible."

James chuckled, "Well, you got your money's worth. Now, about that payment..."

Dylan, still catching his breath from the surreal encounter, managed a hesitant smile. "Uh, about the payment... do you accept credit cards?" he asked, attempting to lighten the mood.

James raised an eyebrow, a sly grin forming on his face. "Credit cards? My friend, I prefer something a bit more... tangible. Cash or a valuable item you don't mind parting with would do the trick."

Dylan chuckled nervously, "Valuable item? I've got an old watch. It's not ancient, but it's been in the family for a while. Will that work?"

James feigned consideration, tapping his chin theatrically. "An old family watch? Now we're talking. Cash or the watch, and we'll call it a deal."

Dylan's expression shifted from amusement to mild concern. "Deal, but, uh, can I get a discount for, you know, being an unwitting participant in this... whatever just happened?"

James crossed his arms, adopting a faux contemplative pose. "Discount, you say? How about a discount for the thrill of a lifetime? Not everyone gets a front-row seat to a stalker takedown."

Dylan grinned, playing along, "Thrill of a lifetime, huh? Do I at least get a commemorative T-shirt?"

James burst into laughter, "I like the way you think, Dylan! We'll talk merchandise after the payment."

As Dylan reached for his wallet, he couldn't help but ask, "So, any chance I get a receipt for this? You know, just for my records."

James winked, "Receipts are for mundane transactions. This is a bit more... extraordinary. Now, let's see that cash or the watch."

Dylan handed over the agreed-upon amount, and James inspected the old family watch with a satisfied grin. "Pleasure doing business with you, Dylan. If you ever find yourself in need of another unexpected adventure or just want to chat with the mysterious and extraordinary, well, good luck with that. I tend to move around."

Dylan, still processing the events, nodded. "Yeah, sure. Thanks again, I guess."

As James strolled away, he called over his shoulder, "And remember, avoid spiders with oversized eyeballs. Not a good crowd."

Dylan watched James disappear into the depths of the subway station, shaking his head with a mix of disbelief and amusement. "Stalker takedowns and mysterious payments. What just happened?"