The encounter

Chapter 3 : The encounter

After 30 minutes of exploring the entire house, Maxwell finally found some interesting items. Nothing exceptional, but in this world where he had to improvise everything, every discovery held value. He picked up a knife, which, though old, wasn't in such bad shape. "This might come in handy for defense or opening things," he thought.

He also found an old blanket, worn but still thick enough to provide some protection from the cold. "Not ideal, but better than nothing," he said to himself, folding it under his arm.

A little further along, he came across a hammer—rusty, but still solid enough to hit with force if needed. Next to it was an old rope, a bit frayed, but still usable. "This could be useful for tying something or setting traps… you never know."

Maxwell also thought about the iron poker he had picked up earlier when he ran to the kitchen to escape the ghost. He gripped this improvised tool a little tighter, thinking it might be his best ally in case of danger.

While rummaging through the cupboards, he found three old cans. They were dusty, warped with time, and the labels were barely readable. "Not sure if these are still good, but I don't really have a choice," he thought, sliding them into his pocket.

In a dusty corner, he discovered a pile of old letters—insurance papers, bills—all dated decades ago. "Nothing useful here, unless…" Then, something caught his eye: a very old map.

Max slowly unfolded the map, and to his surprise, it was a map of Sioux Falls. His eyes lit up when he realized what that meant. "That's where Bobby Singer lives," he thought, a smile forming on his lips. Bobby, one of Sam and Dean's most reliable allies. If anyone could help him survive in this world, it was him.

It was a great opportunity. "I could go see him. It might be the best starting point for really beginning my adventure in the world of Supernatural." But of course, he'd need a solid alibi to explain how he ended up there.

Max paused for a moment to think. "I need to focus on what to do now... head to the town or sleep here in this dilapidated house that was haunted by a ghost not long ago." The idea of staying here overnight didn't thrill him, but venturing out into the dark forest without a clear plan didn't seem any wiser.

He returned to the map and estimated his position. He was about 30 minutes from the first road and then another 20 minutes from Sioux Falls. It wasn't too far, but it meant trekking through a forest at night.

"By the way, I think it's around 9 or 10 PM," he thought, glancing out the window. The moon wasn't fully visible yet, and the air was beginning to cool slightly. "I figure it's still summer or maybe early fall. Even though the climates of America and France aren't exactly the same, from what I remember, South Dakota is similar around this time of year."

Max ran a hand over his face, thinking. "With my new skills, including cold resistance and much higher agility than before, I could sleep without freezing in this house… or…" He quickly recalculated the distances in his head. "With my new agility, I could at least cut the travel time to the city in half. About 25 minutes to reach Sioux Falls."

He straightened up, his mind starting to formulate a plan. "Plus, with my spider sense, even though it's not as 'cracked' as Spider-Man's, it can definitely save my life."

Maxwell ran his fingers over his skull, feeling his new powers stirring within him. "I could also create one or two extra eyes to have 360° vision. That would help me avoid being caught off guard." The idea of increasing his perception in this dark and potentially dangerous forest reassured him a bit.

He tightened his grip on the iron poker, his decision made. "Alright, it's settled. I'm going to take the risk and face my fear, because with what's ahead of me, it's not going to be a walk in the park."

Max quickly chose to take the iron bar and the knife. The hammers, while sturdy, would be harder to handle in a fight. As for the cans and the blanket, he decided to leave them behind. "With my cold resistance, the blanket would just weigh me down unnecessarily. Seriously, how can an old blanket be so heavy? What did they put in these things back then, bricks?"

After a few minutes of preparation, he was finally ready to leave. He took one last look at the map, memorizing the path to avoid any mistakes. "Don't want to end up lost in the forest because I misread a map. Who knows, there might be Wendigos lurking around." He shuddered slightly, but it wasn't because of the cold.

After about ten minutes of walking on the old forest road, Max found himself getting scared multiple times. Every creak of the branches, every distant sound of animals echoed through the silent night. "Do you know how creepy a forest is at night? Especially when a werewolf or some other beast could jump out of nowhere... Not to mention that I'm not even used to my new senses yet. I feel like every little thing wants to jump on me."

Then, after a few more minutes of walking and trying not to imagine all the possible horrors, Max finally spotted the road. He let out a sigh of relief. "Ah, the road, finally... It's almost comforting. I survived the forest. That's already a small victory."

Max continued walking, but this time more slowly, as fatigue began to set in after sprinting several times from all the sudden scares. Still on high alert, he couldn't help but think that some damn white lady could pop up anywhere on this dark road. As he walked further, he suddenly heard the rumble of a car engine. Instinctively, he quickly hid his weapons in the roadside ditch and tried to flag down the vehicle. After blinding him with its headlights, the car slowed down and stopped in front of him.

A voice called out: "Hey kid, what are you doing all alone on a road past 10 PM, with an old map in your hand, and on top of that, wearing shorts and a t-shirt?!"

Unfortunately, Maxwell only half understood what the man had just said. "Just a reminder, I'm French... and we all know how bad we are at English." He gritted his teeth, thinking about his language skills, which were comparable to Americans' knowledge of geography.

Luckily, his system saved him, and a window appeared in front of him:

 _________________________________________________________________________________________

Name: Bobby Singer

Age: 55

Occupation: Hunter, mechanic, occult expert...

English: Master Level | Rarity: Common | 30 MB

Latin: Intermediate Level | Rarity: Uncommon | 60 MB

Master Hunter: Expert Level | Rarity: Rare | 850 MB

Description: Highly skilled in hunting supernatural creatures, uses specialized weapons, and knows the weaknesses of many creatures.

Demonology Expert: Master Level | Rarity: Very Rare | 1.2 GB

Description: Specialist in demons, Bobby can perform advanced exorcisms and manipulate demonic artifacts.

Tactical Ingenuity: Expert Level | Rarity: Rare | 500 MB

Description: Bobby knows how to craft effective strategies to counter supernatural creatures and improvise against unexpected threats.

Expert Mechanic: Expert Level | Rarity: Common | 800 MB

Description: Full mastery in repairing and modifying vehicles and mechanical objects, sometimes adapted for supernatural combat.

Occult Polyglot: Intermediate Level | Rarity: Rare | 1 GB

Description: Ability to read and translate several ancient languages related to occult texts, enabling the decoding of complex rituals.

Weapons Master: Expert Level | Rarity: Uncommon | 250 MB

Description: Bobby is skilled with a wide range of weapons, from firearms to melee weapons, and knows how to use them effectively against supernatural creatures.

Master of Hand-to-Hand Combat: Expert Level | Rarity: Rare | 300 MB

Description: A mix of different martial arts for self-defense and attack, primarily developed through Bobby's experiences fighting monsters.

Download Speed: 4.5 MB/s

Simultaneous Downloads: 2

 _________________________________________________________________________________________

Without wasting a second, Maxwell immediately started downloading English. "I can't look like an idiot, and I need to understand what he's saying." While Bobby waited for a response, Maxwell raised his hand to shield himself from the blinding headlights, gaining a few precious seconds needed to download the 30 MB of the English language.

Seven seconds later, English was integrated.

Max took a deep breath before answering, trying to stay calm despite the situation:

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, but I'm just trying to stay alive here. I was heading to Sioux Falls and didn't realize night would fall so quickly. Honestly, I'm just glad to see another human being. Mind if I hop in?"

He hoped his story would fly and that Bobby would let him in the car without too many questions.

Bobby frowned as he listened to Max's answer. "What kind of story is this?" he thought. The kid seemed sincere, but something was off. A guy walking through the woods with an old map, dressed like he's going to the beach in the middle of fall—it wasn't normal. And then there was that phrase: "You wouldn't believe me if I told you..." Bobby knew that type of line well—it usually came from people hiding something unusual or supernatural.

"Damn, another kid caught up in some supernatural mess?" he thought, wary but not entirely hostile. He wasn't the kind to let someone get eaten by a monster, but he had to stay on guard.

"Stay calm, Bobby," he told himself, "if this is another problem, we'll deal with it like we always do."

Bobby sighed, staring at Max. "This kid looks completely lost... But I'm not gonna leave him to die in the forest either." Finally, he nodded toward Max.

— "Get in, kid. Sioux Falls isn't far, but you've got a lot to explain."

Max, relieved, approached the vehicle, catching his breath. He opened the door and climbed inside, feeling Bobby's sharp gaze on him.

— "Thanks, really," Max said as he settled in.

— "It's nothing," Bobby replied, his tone firm but curious. "But trust me, I've heard all kinds of crazy stories. So if you're hiding something, now's the time to tell me."

Max tensed slightly. He knew he had to be careful about what he revealed. "I can't come off as a lunatic right off the bat." But at the same time, he couldn't lie entirely to Bobby Singer, a master hunter.

— "It's... complicated," Max began, searching for the right words. "First, I'd like you to promise not to laugh at me or think I'm crazy."

Bobby, a bit surprised by the request, frowned before responding in a deep voice: — "I don't make promises, kid, but go ahead, I'm listening."

Max took a deep breath. — "My name's Maxwell, but you can call me Max. I'm 19, and I'm French. I was just at home, watching my favorite show, when I dozed off. And when I woke up, I was in an old house."

Bobby stayed silent, watching Max while keeping his eyes on the road.

— "I managed to keep my cool, but what happened next... I'm not sure you're going to believe. I was attacked by a ghost."

Bobby raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Max continued.

— "I ran to the kitchen. And then, I remembered the nonsense my grandfather used to talk about before he died. I thought he was just rambling because of his Alzheimer's, but after seeing that ghost with my own eyes, I realized it was all real."

Max glanced at Bobby, looking for signs of skepticism, but found none.

— "I searched the kitchen for salt because, according to my grandfather, it stops ghosts. And holy crap, it worked. The salt created some kind of barrier between me and the ghost."

Bobby nodded slightly, visibly intrigued.

— "Then I grabbed an iron bar and hit the ghost. I found a map in a drawer in the kitchen, took it, and ran before the ghost could reappear. And now, here I am."

Max fell silent for a moment, hoping that this version—already crazy enough—would be sufficient. "No way I'm telling him I killed it; this story is already insane enough..." he thought.

Bobby stayed quiet for a while, staring at the road ahead without a word. His fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel, an almost imperceptible gesture. Then, after a few seconds, he said, a bit perplexed:

— "Wait... you said you're French, right? So, I guess you also live in France, right?"

Max nodded. — "Yeah, that's right. I was living in France until... well, until I woke up in that abandoned house here, in Sioux Falls."

Bobby blinked, shocked, his mind trying to piece together this surreal situation. "Okay, ghosts, demons, that I know... But a French kid showing up in a forest in Sioux Falls after falling asleep at home in France? What the hell is going on?!"

The hunter shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear away his wildest thoughts. Bobby had seen strange things in his life, but this was new, even for him.

He glanced at Max before speaking again, his tone still pragmatic but with a hint of disbelief.

— "Well... I stopped saying anything's 'too crazy' to be true a long time ago. A kid lost in the woods who gets attacked by a ghost and uses salt to stop it? That almost sounds... normal." He paused, thoughtful, as if even he was having trouble believing it.

Bobby briefly turned his head toward Max, his eyes narrowed, searching for anything else the boy wasn't saying.

— "You're telling me you picked up an iron bar and hit a ghost? I believe you. What you're describing is pretty standard for someone who stumbles into the supernatural world without being prepared."

He shrugged, almost as if stories like this were part of his daily routine. Yet, he couldn't help but wonder how a kid from France had ended up here, in the middle of South Dakota, without even knowing how.

— "And you got lucky finding that salt in the kitchen. It saved your skin. If you hadn't had that reflex, kid, you'd already be six feet under. But next time, you might not be so lucky. The supernatural isn't just ghost stories to tell around a campfire."

Bobby gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, his tone becoming more serious. He knew Max had only seen the tip of the iceberg. This world was going to be much more dangerous and complex than a simple ghost.

— "You've got a lot to learn if you want to survive in this world, Max. And I think you're about to dive even deeper." His voice, tinged with a certain gravity, left little room for optimism.

He let the silence hang for a moment before glancing over at Max, an almost amused glint in his eyes despite the situation.

— "Welcome to hell on earth, kid."

...

**I created an annex chapter for his status with all his skills, as well as the rarity levels and their respective ranks.**