Arriving at the Designated Point

"A rough night, sir." The policeman only knew he was transporting an FBI agent. Ethan, of course, was anything but an agent, but it wasn't necessary to broadcast that.

Ethan, who had been sleeping, woke up and asked, "How are the arrests going?"

"It's a very quiet town."

"Are you colorblind?"

"What do you mean?"

Ethan stared at the blue-eyed policeman and said, "It's nothing. Well, we're humans, and not everyone has to like us. Everyone hates something in particular. I hate promotions. Once, I wanted to buy a pizza, but because of a damn promotion, it was packed with people."

"That was very unfortunate, sir..." The policeman sweated coldly, as this was his second week on the job.

To be honest, he liked being open and straightforward—someone who didn't hide his thoughts. He loved direct people; being discreet wasn't his style because his job put him on a thin line between life and death.

When you know you can die at any moment, things gradually change.

Ethan had adopted a personality; he couldn't say he was a saint. He enjoyed using violence and torturing his prey, making him as much of a psychopath as the ones he killed.

The only difference was that he didn't kill innocents; he just bothered or intimidated those who were nuisances, killed those who sought his life without exception, and made sure no one was left alive.

But now things are different. He wanted to create a group—a powerful one—that would follow him to the ends of the earth, walking toward his madness. Exterminating vampires was his first mission, then he would go after uncontrolled werewolves and finish off the other shape-shifting creatures.

"We've arrived at the location, but sir, there's nothing here." The policeman was confused.

Ethan pointed to an abandoned building under reconstruction and said, "My car is in that building. Here, take a thousand dollars; dinner's on me."

"I can't accept this..."

"Are you a millionaire?"

The policeman shook his head.

"Then take the damn money and spend it on weed or something. Be careful with the prostitutes; I have a friend whose tool rotted, and since then, he has become a devout priest." Ethan said as he got out of the vehicle, holding his two suitcases.

The policeman, frozen by these inappropriate pieces of advice from an FBI agent, took the money left on the seat and said, "Thanks for the advice."

Ethan didn't look back and instead walked toward the abandoned building. He checked the garage and, after confirming it was the right address, entered without hesitation.

Inside was a vehicle, a completely modified 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS 396 that maintained its appearance.

Ethan walked toward the vehicle, looked at the driver's door, and without hesitation placed his thumbprint next to the lock, and a screen lit up on the window.

"[Identity recognized; welcome back, leader of the Winchester house.]"

"I told my sister to change this crap." Ethan opened the car door, placed the suitcases in the back, and shortly after closing the door, everything in front of his eyes lit up with screens much more advanced than any conventional technology.

This vehicle looked normal but was modified to give Ethan the best protection against bullet impacts, explosions, chases, speed for capturing targets, and numerous other things.

"Would you like to set a predefined route?"

"Take me to the mansion." Ethan said it as if everything around him had been prepared for him.

The vehicle's engine started; its sound was very similar to the real thing, but an expert would notice the differences. When the lights came on, the vehicle drove itself while Ethan closed his eyes.

There were some things he hadn't mentioned, and that was that the technology given to high-level hunters was out of this world. In other words, there was nothing compared to current technology, as it had not yet been announced.

Ethan enjoyed many things that didn't even exist in his memories of his first life. This was due to the strict control world governments had over technology, reserved only for those who fought in the dark.

He didn't need these things, but as an expert killer of supernatural creatures, he had to stay safe to handle things that even a hundred adult humans couldn't achieve.

That was the difference; a normal man with a weapon could kill a hunter, but that same man facing a werewolf would be exposed and die in seconds, unlike the hunter.

Ethan should even have bodyguards, but he had refused that quite firmly.

"We have arrived at the Winchester mansion."

Ethan opened his eyes; he was in the forest, where there was only vegetation and overwhelming sounds that would leave anyone dazed.

But Ethan, trained to ignore these sensations, looked at the enormous mansion hidden in the forest.

"Inform me about the staff."

"A meticulous group of assistants has been selected as requested. Only the butler Sebastian, three triplets named Patricia, and a gardener are present. [In the kitchen is Jack, in cleaning is Lucian, and the tailor is Bob.] "

Ethan reviewed the appearances of each worker in this mansion and nodded. This mansion needed some workers to at least keep it running.

As soon as Ethan got out of the vehicle, Sebastian appeared in front of him, bowed respectfully, and said, "Welcome, sir; we have been expecting you."

"You should rest. Take me to my room and have someone bring me something to eat." Ethan took off his jacket, revealing his white T-shirt stained with dried blood.

This appearance was normal for the selected workers here; there was no surprise.

Sebastian asked on the way, "Do you need the doctor to check you?"

"It's not my blood; nothing to worry about." Ethan entered his room, and Sebastian walked away without saying another word.