Chapter 4

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Written by Bleap - a lazy cook but a cook nonetheless

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John stoically observed the interior of his new home, or rather, the bar that was built into it just beside the tv lounge.

"Hm."

It was a simple counter, built of mahogany with a similarly dark coloured shelf behind it, storing the contents any bar would have, ranging from finer wine to plain and simple whiskey.

...Something he could appreciate.

[Are you going to indulge in your naughty habits, Master?]

"You make it seem like a bad thing." John pointed out plainly, tracing one of his pale fingers across the smooth wood of the counter, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

[But but Master, what happens if you get drunk and try to have your way with someone? I don't have a body or I'd look after you~]

John was unamused with the system's 'personality', he found it tiring to have to deal with someone so enthusiastic but... eh, this beat having to deal with the kids he'd put down just before he met his inevitable end.

"...Can you not?"

[Not what~?]

With a small sigh, John jumped over the counter to study the variety of drinks available to him.

He'd come to appreciate a good drink as his age advanced to the point it messed with his abilities. Drinking drowned out, even if momentarily, the dull reality of being a killing machine made for the express purpose of hunting down what didn't agree with his 'masters'.

...Huh, his handler would call that an unnecessary thought, wouldn't she?

"I wonder how that one's doing?"

In the end, he settled on the simple and reliable option, a bottle of scotch.

[Your handler? Don't you recall? Number 2 killed her for being biassed towards you.]

"That... bastard." John pulled out the cork with a little more force than he'd been intending out and poured it into one of the glasses lying on the counter, watching as the pale gold liquid trickled into the glass, "There really is no beating time, huh? I thought she left."

[Master... no one can blame you.]

"..."

John didn't answer, sipping his whiskey in silence.

...Only to spray everything out onto the counter, eyes wide in shock before he broke into a coughing fit.

The liquid had burnt his throat, which was something he'd forgotten it could do.

"Right... child body." John sighed to himself, tugging on his drenched shirt.

This new body of his was more agile, more durable than his old one but, it came with it's own debilitations... It was a wonder he'd been able to fight off the people that attacked him when he arrived in this world.

On that note,

"Why was I dropped in China?"

[I don't know, Master... maybe the person responsible for your circumstance wanted to show you what to expect?]

"Well... he accomplished that."

[He? It could be a she you know~?]

He'd encountered a brat calling himself a grandmaster or something who wanted him as a... boytoy.

As a calm and reasonable person, he declined and wanted to leave.

But then they'd tried to be forceful, so he introduced him to the concept of freedom and shot him in the face.

One thing led to another and the so-called gods started popping out of the woodworks... So he introduced them to freedom too.

In hindsight, that may have been a bit... over the top.

At least no one saw him.

[That's because you killed everyone that did.]

"Potato Potahto."

There could be no witnesses if no one survived.

-

John watched the sunset from his front yard, sitting on the grass with a calm expression... A half-filled jug of cold water lay by his side.

How long had it been since he could enjoy things like these?

Oh wait, this was his first time.

Who knew being raised for espionage and slaughter would deprive someone of the chance to enjoy the normal things in life.

"I think I might enjoy this... new life of mine."

[Very good! That's what it's for! You can relax and try all the things you never got a chance to.]

That was fine and all but the situation was too suspicious for him to do so... The admission to the school, the situation with the Chinese, this mansion that was in his name, a discardable background with no near relatives or friends...

He wasn't a fool and besides, even a fool could tell when something was too good to be true.

Someone wanted something from him.

To any onlooker, it would be a strange scene.

A young boy engrossed in deep thought, to the point he seemed completely unaware of his surroundings... But well, the mansion was in a mostly empty part of town, in the empty forests near the abandoned church.

John appreciated the discretion.

He was pretty sure he'd involuntarily attack an innocent passerby.

This gave him ample chance to integrate into normal society, on his own terms.

"Hahahaha! Look at this! We don't need to stay in that empty Church! And they say God hates us."

...Or not.

John closed one eye and peered at the source of the noise with the other, not turning to look at it.

[Not humans.]

"What gave it away? Was it the wings? Or the fact they're holding light?"

It was a small group of winged individuals with distinctly European features.

A man in a trenchcoat stood on his gate with a hand on a fedora that hid his facial features,

"I advise discretion, there might be something else at play here."

"I don't sense anybody." A younger midget in a strange frock replied with her head tilted, making her blonde twintails fall to the side, "You think it's one of those abandoned homes?"

Presence concealment was the trademark skill of any assassin worth their salt, of course they didn't sense his presence... despite the fact that he was sitting right in the middle of the yard, observing them with mild annoyance in his typically serene blue eyes.

"Well they seem to have left a servant."

[...]

John stared up at the blue haired knock off fallen angel floating in the air above him with pursed lips... What was it with this world and having such massive mammaries?

Weren't they highly inconvenient?

One of his colleagues repeatedly complained about how hers hurt her back.

"Everything needs to have a limit."

"...What?" The woman was confused by his statement so he pointed at her chest.

"Was your mother a holstein cow?"

"""..."""

Both parties stared at each other in silence.

In his defence, these were upstart brats disrupting his free time, trespassing, and calling him a servant.

The last word stung a lot more than it should have for some reason.

"Pfft-...HAHAHAHAHA!!" The blonde midget keeled over, hands over her stomach and pointedly laughed at her 'colleague', "Serves you right, Kalawarner!"

'Kalawarner' in turn, still seemed stumped by the statement.

Her expression didn't stay the same for longer though as John held out his hand like he was holding a rifle, "I exercise my right to deal with trespassers."

[Master... isn't using a weapon designed for use against gods a bit... overkill?]

In a burst of flames, a matchlock arquebus materialised in his grip and he instantly pulled the trigger.

With a click, followed by a massive boom, a gunshot blew a massive hole through the blue haired woman's chest and she dropped to the ground like a puppet with it's strings cut.

"I don't like that word... And I don't like people infringing on my freedom."