3 chapter 2

Kuoh.

Motherfucking Kuoh.

Kuoh – aka, the place where the idiot who could not choose which breast to grope was born. Also known as the place where for some fucking brilliant reason, Micheal, Lucifer, and Azazel had come down (or up) from their respective thrones to sit around and talk. Kuoh – the most important location of High School DxD – aka, the anime people watch for the fanservice and ecchi, and then claim to stick around for the plot. Or, more usually, stick around cause of the Shin Megami Tensei vibes.

Loud knocking sounds drew me from my thoughts as I shot my head up, remembering where I was specifically.

"Anata wa anatadesu ka?"

I was still in a changing room. No doubt I'd have drawn some unnecessary attention with my swearing and cursing, but at this point, I could not care the fuck less. I was too busy trying to think of why I'd woken up in the DxD Universe as my Skyrim Character.

"Fuck off!"

I snarled at the door.

In hindsight, not the wisest thing to say or do, considering, this wasn't my store, this wasn't my changing room, and the person working here probably did not even speak English.

Fuck, there was still the whole language barrier thing I had to worry about. Graah! I had neither the patience nor the will to attempt to learn Japanese, yet, if I didn't, I was never going to get anywhere. Why couldn't there be a 'learn Language' Spell in Skyrim? Then again, I doubted such a spell would have had much use.

Not to mention the problem of being a foreigner in this country. Unlike the majority of idiots and otakus out there who believed Japan was a wonderland filled with fantastic mystery and fun, the reality was not the fucking case. I'd done my fucking homework on this country, which was one of the reasons I'd like to visit as a tourist, but never live here.

Most sane people would slap you across the face if you told them that you had to work so hard and literally die from overworking. But guess what? In Japan, that was expected of every single fucking person. Yeah, this country had serious cultural issues that I would not want to be near. Particularly the whole societal restraint shit – there was even a saying in the country, "The nail that sticks out will be hammered down." Might as well have a giant poster with the words "FUCK INDIVIDUALITY!" hovering above the sky.

Some people might think, but – but - Japanese people are super kind! And super nice! And I heard that one story of the guy who left his iPhone on the floor and came back the next day and still found it there!

Well that's because of a fucking societal system which forced and compelled you to be that way.

Do nothing to disgrace the motherland of Japan!

Keep your problems bottled up and always maintain a mask of niceness!

Your actions reflect on the society and your parents, so when you screw up, you screw up for everyone, and everyone screws you up in turn!

Public violence or outbursts were so fucking seen as anathema in this country, that people would swallow it all up, and then find other means to pour it all out. Honor was a legit thing which carried down from generation to generation, and you were expected to work your hardest (no matter what), expected to follow the societies rules until you eventually died one hot afternoon from a 72-hour work session, or decided to say 'fuck it' and hanged yourself in the suicide forest.

The 'nicest' country was also a place with one of the highest suicide rates, and its own infamous suicide forest, Aokigahara.

Sure it had its upsides, like colorful slice-of-life anime and wonderful romance or bildungsroman/coming-of-age shows depicting the beauty of youth and teenage experience which was good…

Until you thought about it and wondered, "If the Japanese High-School Life is so great… why the fuck are there so many anime about it?" I mean, why would anyone want to watch and experience things they already have?

It's like telling an office worker to watch a movie about office workers being office workers – why the fuck would he want to do that?

That's because High-School Anime is to real-life Japanese High Schools as the Marvel Cinematic Universe is to America.

I could almost hear the frantic, denying screeches of a dozen overweight weeaboos.

The knock on the door continued, politely of course, but I was in no mood to deal with it.

"I thought I told you to fuck off!"

The door swung open from the outside, and I came face to face with an 'irate' looking young woman. Her displeasure wasn't clear on her face, and she did, attempt to look somewhat 'kind' or 'polite' but she wasn't fooling me with her body language. The sharpness of her eyes, the coiled stiffness of her shoulders, the center of mass being placed forward and the grounding of both feet on the ground, pointed in a forward motion – all of it gave her away to me easily.

"Anata wa shuppatsu suru hitsuyo ga arimasu."

I rolled my eyes. "Wakarimasen Nihongo."

She could not have seemed more displeased, yet, she retained her 'smile.' "You no understand Japanese? You tourist?"

Thankfully, she could communicate in the barest of broken English. "Hai." I responded.

"Hope you have okane… money. Pay for clothes." She gestured towards my jeans and leather jacket, making me growl in irritation.

I didn't have any cash on me, and I didn't say anything, but, she seemed to have come to the same conclusion.

"Must ask you to take off clothes and leave please."

"I –"

Wait… hadn't I pickpocketed a cop's wallet?

"I have money." I said, pretending to reach into my 'pocket' whilst actually searching in my inventory, before bringing out the cop's wallet, sighing in relief at the small stack of wads inside.

"How much?"

Her eyes seem to shine more appreciatively. "Four thousand yen for jeans. Five thousand yen for jacket. Two and five hundred for shoes. Total eleven thousand five hundred yen."

"What the fuck?!" I said, my eyes going wide. "Eleven thousand just for an outfit? That's highway robbery!"

The woman crossed her arms. "You pay – or you take off clothes."

"You seem to want me to take off my clothes really badly."

She rose her eyebrow, not looking impressed in the slightest. Note to self: innuendo doesn't work if the person doesn't speak the same language you do. That aside, there was no way that the amount she mentioned was inside this measly wallet – and she didn't seem to be the type that listened to any other language except cold hard cash.

"Must ask you to leave. Will call for security."

Shit.

I was about to cast a spell on her and tell her to go fuck off a bit more forcefully –

Until my eyes flickered up above to the security cameras.

Motherfucker!

Security cameras – shit shit shit – one of the few banes of living in the modern age. How had I forgotten about them? I really fucking hoped no cameras had caught me disappearing the clothes –

Ah fuck. I'd entered into the changing rooms with no clothes on me at all, and I'd opened the door and was suddenly wearing clothes that I grabbed…somehow? That was going to be fucking suspicious. Not to mention the fact that the cameras caught me with my Nightingale Armor on –

Anything I did would be caught on camera – even going invisible – and that'd probably be one of the fastest ways to scream "SUPERNATURAL OCCURRENCE!" and bring the entire fucking world down on my throat.

I thought hard and I thought fast –

Do whatever I wanted anyway and screw the circumstances? No – I wasn't a fucking idiot.

Do whatever I wanted, and find a way to erase the evidence? This seemed more reasonable… except it'd still bring up some level of scrutiny.

Find a solution?

"Er shit… how bout I barter with you…" I reached into my inventory. Let's see, miscellaneous items… "How bout this? Will this cover it?"

I brought out one Flawless Diamond amongst the few dozen I had in my inventory. Thankfully, with the Dawnguard DLC, killing Legendary Dragons dropped these. Additionally, the Prowler's Profit ability granted upon completing the Thieves' Guild No Stone Unturned Quest and finally getting all those pesky Stones of Barenziah made it so I could find precious gems in pretty much every chest, urn and corpse I looted.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the object, and she looked at me, and turned her gaze back to the Flawless Diamond as though it were a foreign object she had never seen in her life. Part of me wanted to tell her 'well fucking take it already bitch' but I settled instead for looking 'amused.'

"It's not fake. And you can have it… if you'd do me a few favors along the line."

"Ah –" the flustered shop owner held the Flawless Diamond in her hand, rubbing it smoothly and examining it with a greedy sheen in her eyes. Anyone with half a brain could tell that the Diamond was legit, and was also very very expensive. As in, several million expensive.

In Skyrim, the Flawless Diamond was sold for 1000 gold/septims. In a world where the price of assassinating the Emperor was 20,000 and the price of a house (Breezehome) was around 5000 coins… yeah, the Flawless Diamond was valuable as fuck. Just five of them could buy you a home. Twenty of them could buy you a mansion or pay for the assassination of an emperor. A hundred of them? That could probably buy you an army and a small country.

So there was no way I was going to give her something that valuable for some clothes.

"Yeah… by the way…" I said, putting my best predatory grin, and judging by how she jumped back, I could tell that she saw my fangs. "You wouldn't be opposed to some… questionable, deeds now would you?"

"…Nani?"

XXXXX

I truly gave very little shits about the inhabitants of this world. Rias, Issei, the whole Occult Research Club and what not – fuck them. They could all go and suck on Sirzechs shriveled balls for all I cared. They were High School students, and I'd long since graduated from High School – I had no reason to even want to interact with them.

I wanted to fly far away from Japan and it's constricting society and take up a relatively peaceful life in some rural neighborhood in Canada, occasionally using my Vampire Powers to enslave some random people and have fun with them every once in a while. The whole DxD Plot and stupidity could go fuck itself.

The major reason I couldn't was because I didn't exist. I didn't have a passport, driver's license, or any other means of identification. I didn't have dental records, a medical history, or even as much as a High School Certificate. That meant, travelling was going to be very problematic. Living was going to be very problematic. Hell, even walking around was going to be problematic as fuck, because police officers could randomly demand me to provide identification because I was a foreigner, and there'd likely be CCTV cameras around, meaning I couldn't just FUS RO DAH my way out of the problem.

A simple solution which had crossed my mind, was to use my powers. Mind control a bunch of people, and some other people, and then even more people, until I got myself everything I needed. That would be great… except…

Mind control was not fucking subtle.

It was too unsubtle.

The [Vampire's Servant] ability was one of the major ways I could turn people into my thralls, and have them do my bidding, but anyone with common sense would realize that something is wrong with the person under my control, because they would start worshipping me like a god, and would have a rather discernable change in character. Japanese people were very shrewd and adept at picking up social clues and other intricate, tiny nuances of communication and interaction. They were adept at observing their fellows and were swift to identify things out of the norm – so a Thrall would stick out like a fucking sore thumb. I might as well be screaming "THERE'S SOMETHING FISHY GOING ON HERE!" at the top of my lungs.

Alternatively, the [Bend Will] shout would have been my next best option.

Oh, how nice it would be to walk up to the immigration office, look someone in the face and then scream at them at the top of my voice, some words that seemed completely nonsensical, and then watched as they listened to my orders and followed my instructions without complaint.

As a foreigner, I'd either be kicked out, or locked up the second I opened my mouth to try that.

Even assuming I went with a subtler method, like say, ambushing people in their homes and then using the shout on them and commanding them – I highly doubted that a shout which bended people's wills would make them able to go to work and act exactly the same with no visible difference.

Hell, if I gave them the order 'act normally and don't draw suspicion' I would be creating a paradox, because a lot of human behaviors and patterns are subconscious and uncontrolled. Like a man who unconsciously rubbed his hair when he was nervous, or a girl who didn't realize she always chewed on her pen when flustered – they would be missing those tiny things they did that they didn't even realize they did, and it'd once more, draw scrutiny.

Unfortunately, none of the possible ways to mind-control someone in Skyrim was possessed even the tiniest measure of subtlety (unless you got really fucking creative). Vampire Thralls were not subtle. Shouting was not subtle. The applications of the [Calm] spell were not subtle either, regardless of the fact that I had Silent Casting. Being able to cast spells silently did not mean that she spells were invisible to the naked eye, and spells tended to cast rather noticeable lightshows.

Skyrim was a game and a world that had stealth, but lacked subtlety.

For fuck's sakes even the 'stealthy' ways to kill people in that world couldn't work in the modern era.

Long-Range Sniping With a Bow and Arrow?

Are you fucking kidding me? I'd be called the "Archer Killer" in weeks, and leave behind valuable arrows for them to study.

Stealth-sneaking behind someone and Sneak Attacking?

Oh, and let them have my fingerprints (from the body, as you tended to need to hold the head as you slit the throat) as well as have forensic information about me from things like my height (judging from how and the angle I used to slit the throat,), my weapon, (judging from the injury inflicted on the body), my skills and abilities, (entered undetected indicating high stealth, tampered with locks indicating skill in lockpicking/breaking and entering) and a whole plethora of other clues that I couldn't think of.

Poisoned weapons/Poison Pick-pocketing?

Toxicologists would certainly be interested in the chemical compound of the lethal poison which killed Mr A – and once they realized they'd never seen any fucking poison like it before, my 'victim' would become a 'test subject' as people tried to study the new atomic structure of Troll Fat and Giant's Toe. Not to mention they'd immediately know it was me when next I killed people with my unidentifiable poisons.

Ordering mind-controlled minions/followers to kill for you?

Assuming they didn't botch things up and get caught, or fail, and get killed, or you know, any other fucking problem that usually came from sending minions to do an easy task.

So with all my powers, there was no untraceable, undetectable, completely 'Ghost-level' method of getting what I wanted. The only quiet-ghost-assassin-level way I could get the papers and documentation I needed, was by not using my powers, and instead, using my resources.

"Ah – Yes, Mr. Seto – this place, is good yes? Bought at very cheap price."

The only problem was, I currently had only one resource. And it was… greedy.

I rubbed my nose. "Sana-san, first, my name is Seth. Not Seto, but Seth. Second… I asked you to help me get a small house. A. Small. House."

I gestured to the large open ground floor of the duplex building, which had chairs, a barstool, a large bar, and pretty much everything else you would find… in a bar.

"Does this look like a house?"

Sana, the lovely young shop attendant at the place I'd visited, seemed to have some… 'Unruly' connections. In other words, she had family in the Yakuza. I didn't know whether to count it as good luck or bad luck that I'd met her, but she was wise enough to keep her mouth shut and ask very little questions as long as I provided her with cash ala diamond.

"Riving quarters can choose, upstairs or downstairs." She said, waving off my concerns. "Good place, great dearu. You no find deal like this anyweru erse in town. You irregaru immigrant – no identity – foreigner – you veri rucki to even get place like this."

Well fuck you too bitch.

"Prus, huge benefits if you open shop."

I had a very distinct feeling that she was pushing some agenda of hers, which was one of the major reasons she wanted me to buy this building.

"And what exactly do you get out of this, other than a shit ton of money?"

"Me? Money my onri reason Seto-san."

Right… like I was going to believe that for even a second. There was a limit people could go for 'free' or 'illegal' money, especially in this country with one of the lowest crime rates and poverty rates, underreported or not. I sighed, shaking my head. It wasn't like I had any other options at this rate. Unless I wanted to live a hermit's lifestyle, going from hotel to hotel (assuming they'd accept me), and relying on eating takeout day after day. Getting a place of my own was an absolute necessity.

Or I could just kill someone and steal their house?

…

No. Way too unsubtle. People would notice, and people would talk.

"So… you want prace furnished yes?" Sana asked, smiling "Can provide furru furnishing – anything you want – so far as you have more ah… jewerru… to offer yes?"

Damn this woman was greedy.

"Can furnish place – everything in working order! You give me ristu – things want, and I find them and help put them."

I did need the place furnished. Also, I was too fucking lazy to actually go out and do all the shopping by myself.

"Can you read English?"

She twisted her nose into the air. "Can you readu Japanese? No? Then why I learn read your language? Foreigners like you – so arrogant."

She had a point, but damn if she wasn't testing my patience. "Fine… give me a minute, hopefully I can translate all what I need in Google for you."

Sigh… the type of shit I got myself involved in. I needed to find a way to get past this horrible language barrier. I didn't think I could listen to her crude sounding English any longer, especially the way she kept mixing up her 'l' and 'r' sounds. English was not particularly necessary to learn in Japan, it was hardly ever, if ever used in day-to-day communication. The average Japanese man truly had no reason to learn English, in the same way that the average American man had no real reason to learn Japanese.

It took me a few minutes to list everything I needed, from food items, to toiletries and necessities, to some other basic objects I'd need for entertainment. If I was going to be living here for the meanwhile, I might as well have something doing. Actually, scratch that, I needed to have something to do otherwise I'd start angsting as the crippling realization slammed into me and made me realize that I'd never probably see anyone I knew ever again.

Was finding a way home even possible? But if it was, would I want to create such an avenue?

If there was a way to cross dimensions, or whatever – did I really want to create a possible avenue for people of this world to come to my world? What if I brought Gods and Devils to my world? The amount of fucking chaos that would be unleashed…

"Hurri Seto-san." She said, looking at her watch. "I have other praces to be."

I cringed once more at the Japanized version of my name. "It's Seth. Se – oh fuck it. And hold your horses you impatient bitch – it's not like I'm not paying you good okane for this."

Sana crossed her arms. "Shofu no ko. Anata no hahaoya wa meinudearu."

I spun on her. "What the fuck did you just say about my mother?"

She stared at me, her eyebrows raised in surprise. It only clicked a second later that she'd spoken in Japanese – and I'd perfectly understood her. Was it because it was an insult?

"Say something else." I demanded.

She paused for a second, uncertainly. "Anata wa okidesu."

I stared, before shaking my head. I hadn't understood that. I ran my hand through my hair and sighed. "Damn that was fucking weird." I turned my gaze back to her. "Speaking of weird things, how is it that you can understand English without problems, but you can't speak it or read it?"

"Cause of foreigners like you. Having to deal with them – make me need learn to understand stupid language."

I let those words stay in my mind for a while, before truly taking the time to look at the woman. Young, dark hair as common of Asian heritage. Arguably attractive… but because of those damned Asian-woman genes, she could age anywhere from eighteen to thirty. I couldn't get a good enough lock on her actual age, and I highly doubted she'd be willing to tell me. Well, not willingly anyway, but mind-controlling someone just to know their age was a bit stupid.

"Fine. Here's the list – everything you need to get. Money isn't a problem, because I know that Diamond I gave you can cover it."

"What?" she sounded outraged "But – used diamond pay for this place!"

"If you expect me to fucking believe that this place is worth that much, you've got another thing coming."

"It –"

"Sana –" I walked closer to her and it made me realize that I was tall. Or at least, much taller than the average Asian. I towered over her in such a way that made it clear the difference between being six-foot-one and being a little under four feet. If I wanted to, I could probably lift her into the air with one hand and very minimal effort.

She seemed to have realized that as well.

And she also realized that she was alone, with a tall unknown stranger of dubious origins, who could probably do a lot of things to her before she got away.

"Don't be too greedy." I said, slowly.

She swallowed uncomfortably, before gritting her teeth and 'politely' nodding. "H-Hai."

I watched her scamper off, hastily walking out of the door of the duplex building, and closing it swiftly behind her. With her gone, I took a deep, tiring breath as I moved towards a barstool and took a seat.

I brought out the stolen cellphone, examining it to check the time.

4:31 AM

Damn.

I probably ought to get rid of it in case the cop I stole it from attempted to track it down or something – but I was feeling too tired to do that right now. I'd woken up in the park around 10pm last night – and the whole process of meeting Sana, bribing her with Diamonds and getting her to get this place to me had taken several hours.

I wanted some goddamned sleep.

I wanted to close my eyes and pretend as though all of this was some incredibly twisted and convoluted dream – but, chances were that wasn't going to fly. This was my reality, however surreal it was now.

… Damn.

"Sweet Roll."

The delicious bakery appeared in the palm of my hand, and I took a bite of it, battling back so many emotions.

"So… motherfuckingly… delicious."

Thus ended my first day in a new world, eating some wonderful, tear-stained Sweet Rolls.

XXXX

"Seto-san… Seto-san… Seto-san!"

I blinked a bit, trying to shake the sleep off my eyes as I felt someone gently tap me. It wasn't until I heard the sound of the curtains being drawn backwards, that my eyes snapped open from the hot feeling that slammed upon my skin.

"FUCK! THE LIGHT! IT BURNS! FUCK IT! IT FUCKING BURNS!"

I jumped up from my position on the bar, covering my eyelids and using my hand to protect myself from the overwhelming harsh rays of the sun. Shit – it felt as though someone was pointing a magnifying glass at the sun, and directing the superheated rays on my skin.

Your Vampire Blood Boils in the Sunlight

The words appeared in my vision, and the first thing that came to my mind was, 'no fucking shit.'

I'd completely forgotten about that otherwise obvious fact – Vampires hated sunlight –and I was a Vampire Lord. Fuck – gahhh – why the fuck had I thought being a Vampire was a good idea? I felt like I was getting major sunburns all over just from being exposed to the sun. I was just glad I didn't disintegrate while under its effects, or that would be the most pathetic way to die. Ever.

Sana stood, staring at me oddly, with a face that clearly did not understand what she had done. Oh how I was tempted to smack that oblivious look off her face –

"I… have very sensitive skin." I said in what was probably the most bold-faced half-truth I ever uttered. "I don't like the sun."

"Like… Kyuketsuki?"

I tilted my head. "Nani?"

She blinked, realizing that she spoke in Japanese. "Er… what you call… Vampuayah?"

"Something like that." I answered vaguely.

"Pft. You foreigners – weak blood cause all manner of disease and defects."

If I wasn't sure about Sana being racist before, I certainly was fucking sure of it now. "Right, and I'm sure you Japanese are all perfect." Even if they did have somewhat longer lifespans on average due to their diet. "Let's just fucking get this day over with so I don't have to see your face ever again."

I eventually decided to use the upper floors as my living area – stocking it up with everything I needed. I was something of a minimalist, and the Japanese had minimalistic living mastered to levels that I could not even imagine. So, my 'house' contained just the very bare essentials. A single couch, with two other chairs framing it, a coffee table, and a flatscreen TV I got attached to the wall. That was it. I'd probably buy a Playstation or an Xbox later – but for now, I needed only the essentials.

The bedroom had a simple king-sized bed, a work-table and a desk, a lamp, and a PC.

The bathroom had a simple bar of soap, toothpaste, and new toothbrushes.

The kitchen was the only place that wasn't minimalist, as I had a fridge, coffee maker, microwave, loads of shiny new cutlery, pots and pans, and cupboards filled with spices and ingredients, all of which were labelled in Japanese and which would probably screw me over later. The fridge itself was stocked with the basics, eggs, milk, yoghurt, juice, and some beer. Shitty beer. I'd take Nord Mead over beer anytime and any day.

The rest of the money went to me paying for internet connection to have my own personal Wi-Fi, 4G, (because this is Japan) and to my pocket. With some of the rest going to Sana for her… 'hard work.'

Of course, I still had a whole lower floor, and a bar which was all mine. I was tempted to open up business (read: Sana kept insisting it was a great idea) although, I enjoyed my privacy, too much privacy would draw more scrutiny than too little.

No one ever suspected the crazy, outgoing party types who womanized, gambled and lived it large to be the ones hiding secrets. In contrast, someone who always kept to themselves, choose not to socialize, was withdrawn and solitary, would bring about a whole lot of speculation and questioning.

So the bar was needed as a cover. Because A: I was an illegal immigrant and didn't want people finding out and B: I was a Vampire, so I needed an excuse to stay indoors all day, preferably in a place with very little lighting that was cool, and not draw too much attention.

Bars in general fit that description.

Several hours with a little bit of work, some re-decorating and redesign, and I'd shaped the place up with a nice dark and comfy 'Medieval-ish' theme, loads and loads of bleaker colors and designs, and covering up all the goddamned windows with the thickest curtains I could find –

And hence, Dead Man's Drink was open for business.

"Deado Man's Drink?" Sana asked, staring at the paper, and then back at me.

"It's an inside joke."

Not that anyone would know that Dead Man's Drink was the name of the Inn from Falkreath – because I doubted the Skyrim videogame even existed in this world. And it was also a reference to being owned by a Vampire, and because I kind of liked the Undertaker. That aside, I didn't need customers. Having them would be nice, but not particularly necessary. Money was no object to me, so I could afford to sell piss-poor drinks and still not give a damn about it.

"So… you handle the paperwork stuff – certification, the licensing, and what not – and I'll handle the payment."

"Hai hai." She nodded lackadaisically. "So… you wirru need Bartender… yes? Of course – you needu good cover - no one want buy from strange foreigner. Need local touch. "

This woman… "Let me guess, you have someone 'perfect' in mind for the job."

She tossed her nose into the air. "What you think?"

I sighed, rubbing my face irritably. "Of course you fucking do. All going the extra mile for cash, I'm sure." I shook my head. "Whatever. Bring the person you need in, and I'll see about them."

She harrumphed.

Patience Seth… Patience…

"Now… these contacts of yours," I began, referencing her Yakuza affiliation "How exactly would they go about helping a man in need of an identity?"

Apparently, even with money speeding up the process, getting what I needed was not easy. This was probably because Japan was not particularly high on the 'corrupt countries' scale, and the people in charge were damn good at doing their jobs.

She said she could provide me some fake Identification for the meanwhile, but what I needed was real ones. That is, a legitimate passport, driver's license, and other form of information and identification that wouldn't fall apart under a deeper search if I wanted to truly disappear off the map. Supposedly, it'd take approximately eight months to get it all done.

Eight months.

Until I had what I needed – I'd be here for the next eight months.

There was a way for me to speed up the process… although, that would mean having to meet with one of the two teenage girls who were 'sisters' of the 'Satans' of this world, and asking them a favor. The problem with that was the fact that I did not want to have anything to do with them.

I'd have loved to 'claim' or 'dominate' them – hell, maybe have sex with them or humiliate them and get off on the power fantasy… except, attacking them was the same as attacking Sirzechs and Serafall. While I was delusional enough to believe I could fend off one, of the two Satans, I doubted, even being delusional, that I could fend off both of them.

Walking up to Rias Gremory, pinning her to the floor and using the Thu'um to terrify her into submission before grinning like a motherfucking maniac and shoving my cock down her throat, was a fantasy.

It would remain – a fantasy. Unless, of course, I was looking for an interesting way to die, in which, I could do it, and then flip the middle finger to Sirzechs as he came at me like a vengeful demon straight from the pits of hell and attempted disintegrated me to ash.

Sure, I was the Dovahkiin, but when Gods were literally my opponents – that title didn't carry much weight anymore. I doubted Miraak could fight against Molag Bal, Sheogorath, or maybe Mehrunes Dagon and win.

If he couldn't fight God-level beings… who the hell was I to claim that I could fight them?

Or was I selling myself (and the Dovahkiin) short?

I did kill Alduin after all… and he was the "World-Eater" wasn't he?

Fuck if I knew. Power levels scaled differently in different worlds. Better to underestimate the power of the Dragonborn and wisely stay alive, than overestimate it and end up dead.

"So – that all yes?" Sana said huffily, "Now, you give me my payment yes?"

I was drawn out of my musing from Sana's voice, before, I turned to the woman, and hummed.

"Of course… but first…"

She grew visibly irate. "What?"

I took in a deep breath.

"GOL HAH DOV!"

I felt something stir, felt the whole world bend, felt it whine and whimper like a starved bitch in the throes of heat. The sensation felt right, felt so natural, as though I was picking up an instrument that I had long since forgotten and allowed the memory of how to play it surface to my mind. Like I was hearing a favorite song from my childhood that I had never truly forgotten.

The force was also a physical wave, as Sana was sent flying until she crashed into the wall, clearly dazed. I knew that shouts, even the non-offensive ones were capable of occasionally staggering enemies – but this – it was as though I'd used Fus Ro Dah rather than the mild-mannered [Bend Will] shout. It made me wonder what the [Unrelenting Force] would actually be capable of.

Still, I felt the effect take place, as Sana stood, shakily to her feet, and there was a trance-like air about her. More accurately… she looked drunk.

"Sana."

"Hai?"

First, let's test something. "Respond to all my commands and questions in English."

"I… I will attempt my hardest, Seth-sama."

Now she finally got my name right. I rubbed my nose and shook my head, staring at the glazed eyed look of the woman in front of me.

"Why did you buy this place when I asked you to get me a house?"

"Because the price for this place is low, and I made profit by buying it for a quarter of what I told you I bought it."

Fucking greedy little –

"Why is the price for this place so low?"

"Because it's cursed."

I blinked at that. "Cursed? Explain."

"Mysterious things happen to people who have bought this place. Within a month to five, the person who owns this place usually dies."

I stared.

Motherfucking bitch –

"And the bar?" I said through slightly gritted teeth. "Why a bar?"

"So that we could continue to make profit off you, until you eventually died. The Bartender I intend to bring will be a pretty young woman who will siphon off most funds and profits and 'fall' in love with you to keep you from suspecting anything. Failing that, she would drain you of as much money as possible, and find out where you got your diamonds."

If I wasn't so fucking pissed, I'd actually be damned impressed.

"Anything else you want to add?"

She nodded drunkenly. "After you die, you would have done the ground work for us of creating an established bar. We will then sell it over and over and over again – making as much profit as we can from it."

I rubbed my temples slowly. "And why, exactly, did you pick me to run this little scam on?"

"Because you are an easy and perfect target – an illegal immigrant with unknown wealth and diamonds. If you die or go missing, no one will care. No one will investigate. And we would have profited massively from you."

…

That was fucking cold and fucking logical all at the same time. Didn't mean it wasn't fucking annoying though.

I smiled 'patiently.' "So… what about getting me an identification? Let me guess, you had no intention of doing that either."

She nodded. "Yes. I hoped you would have died before I was required to provide you with anything."

Sweet-motherfucking God –

Was this really the perky-and-happy High School DxD world I found myself in? Or had I entered some twisted Game of Thrones version? I mean what the fuck –

My luck couldn't be that shitty could it?

Oh wait, yeah it was.

In a world with gods and beings that embodied abstract concept, the universe could actually be out to get me – and it wouldn't be a fucking exaggeration.

I stared at the drunken looking woman, slowly clenching and unclenching my right hand as I contemplated what to do with her. What to do in general. Every single instinct of mine wanted me to kill her for this… but the problem was, doing that wouldn't really help. I knew jack shit about running a bar, and although I had college-level knowledge about Japan, I knew jack shit about its paperwork and politics, and it's unspoken little rules and conventions, I didn't even know how I would go about to eventually get me some goddamned measure of identification –

But I can figure it out.

It wouldn't be subtle, it would be crude and unrefined, like trying to use a hammer for brain surgery… but I'd make it work on my own fucking terms.

I was the motherfucking Dragonborn. The Dovahkiin. This body had worked it's way from a chopping block to becoming the Archmage, worked its way from a nobody to becoming the Leader of an Assassin's Guild and a Thieves' Guild.

Yeah… I – I could do this.

I could take on the world on my on fucking terms.

I turned my attention to 'Sana.' "Thank you Sana-san. You've thought me a very interesting lesson." I said.

Fuck subtlety. Fuck it to hell –

I'm gonna let the whole fucking country know that there's a person out there you don't fuck with.

"Now, in exchange… you're going to do me a rather large favor... this family of yours… where can I find them?"

The Yakuza was often themed after the name of dragons and fire.

Let's see how well they stand up to one.