Hey hey people
'Tis i
The Hunter
[Chapter 2]
||The Conductor||
"Foolish horror! Brought low and driven to the mud." His voice echoed throughout the rubbled building.
And for now, he wasn't the only living being in the decrepit building, as another responded, "You've gotta get a fucking name and stick to it."
In the dead of the night, at an abandoned warehouse, two hired killers had a conversation never known by their contractors. It was the kind of building where the escaped Stray Demons would often choose to hide and eat idiot kids who thought adventuring into an abandoned place that was filthy and staunch with the stench of blood was a bright idea. Bright or not, it was their latest and last idea.
Some remains of their body were scattered around, an obvious trap to lure in more brainless morons. Sprawled over the center of the desolate building was the giant body Stray Demon Viser, bleeding from a single stab wound that precisely punctured her heart. She lied as dead as an African elephant surrounded by ten greedy poachers. A clean and a fast kill, almost unnatural.
Then again, the Assassin had an unnatural ability to stick a sharpened steel into people.
"Well..." his voice was deeper, distorted, not at all human as it was changed by a mask resembling a steampunk skeleton. Recently purchased from Azazel and his unpaid workers just before he was assigned to this Kuoh place. "If I have a name then I wouldn't be able to piss off as many people as possible. Preferably confusing them as they mix up dumb names they like to make up. 'The Ghost of Lucifer'! Hah! What a joke!"
"What about a code, then." A white-haired male suggested. His outfit was a mix of dark and bright color; an anti-magic dark green coat specialized for Exorcists over a white dress shirt for priests. "A codename. I can't call you 'You' all the fucking time."
The Assassin had all black; typical, but strictly for practicality. Bloodstains could be concealed by its dark color and it helped him blend with the shadows. Most supernatural beings had 'alright' vision in the dark, but it didn't mean they could locate someone who seemed like a part of a shadow as easily.
A hood covered his hair, leaving no skin visible. Simple leather armor dyed coal black and imbued with magic for additional protection, a pair of slim-fitting pants, and a pair of boots. A small backpack containing several toys strapped to his back, several globes and throwing daggers slotted into his toolbelt, and an empty slot for small arms. He dressed lightly for this Stray hunting occasion, since Strays were rarely difficult to handle.
No capes or coats with tails, because those were for morons who wanted to look cool and not realize those were just unnecessary weaknesses. He had killed one assassin who used a cloak. It was embarrassing to be choked to death by it.
Of course, he would change his outfit and never really stuck to one. Especially when he was playing someone. If necessary, he'd ditch all of his clothes and swap into another belonging to a body he had killed, and adopt their identity instead.
Outfits were just a bigger mask.
Unfortunately, it made it difficult to establish connection with those he wanted to.
"Fine." He said, wiping off the last sheen of red off his small stiletto dagger, then stowed the bloody rag in his trousers pocket; no evidence whatsoever. "What about 'Freed'? Short and rolls off the tongue."
"No, stronzo. That's my name. Too confusing." The rogue Exorcist crumpled his face, making his way over to the naked upper-human-shaped body of the deceased Demon.
He drew out a sword silently off its sheath, because making noise when drawing a sword was for amateur dumbasses who only wanted to look cool and wanted to chip the blade. With a lighthearted slash, Freed began carving his initials on her back with several strokes, cutting off limb after limb once he finished his big 'F'.
"What about Fucker, eh? That suits you fine. Fucker. Rolls off the tongue just as nice."
"Creative aren't you." The Assassin snorted, plainly staring at the red 'F' that was taking shape on the misshapen Demon. This should throw off the Devils when they find the body. "Tell me why you're in this city and I'll let you call me whatever the hell your sewer mouth wants."
"Heh, good enough for me." Freed straightened himself and sheathed his sword, clapping his hands then chef kissing to a job well done. "Sent here to guard a kid nun. Girl got some Sacred Gear bullshit, apparently helped a Devil or something. Blonde hair. Bit short. Bit flat; both her character and chest. Prays way too much. Got excommunicated anyway because God forgot to give a shit about her. You'll know when you see her around. Not many blondies around this place."
Of course he knew. He became her classmate today. "Yeah? How did your errand go then?"
"Met a bunch of Crows." Fallen Angels. Calling them 'Crow' usually earns you a lightning spear up your ass. "They paid better than those stingy monks. Not my fault. Sending me with her, they probably think I was going to kill her." Freed shrugged without guilt.
The Assassin shrugged. "If the church is known for handing out money there won't be any churches around."
"Yeah? Well they sure know how to evade taxes." Freed spat on the concrete floor. "They lost her to the Devils anyway because they're a bunch of birdbrained incompentent morons at the end of the day. Not my fuckin' problem... Got my money and got her off my hands."
"And now you're on what? A holiday?"
"Nah. Doing fuck all makes me crazy. There's a lot going on inside this head, I tell you." The Exorcist waved a hand, sitting down at a huge chunk of broken concrete. "Kokabiel. Know him? Paler than a Vampire. Knife ears. Everything about him just screams 'I am the bad guy, hee hee ho ho'."
"Aye I've heard." The Warmonger. Azazel had been eyeing to get rid of him. The only reason he hadn't given the Assassin the go ahead was simply time. Too soon to erase him. Suspicion would befall him, and that risked a separation from the rest of Kokabiel's lackeys who were better trained in combat.
"Uh-huh, big surprise there." Freed snorted. "His plan's dumb, but ballsy. And stupid ballsy plan is at least entertaining. There's Kokabiel and some… some fat fucker from the Vatican. Shit, what's his name? Valper? Balba? Whatever. He's a fat dwarf who looks like he just ate a kid."
Likely a corrupt priest. Not exactly a rarity. "How big of this 'dumb ballsy plan' are we talking here?"
"Big balls territory. I'm talking 'robbing Excaliburs' kind of ballsy move. Man's batshit insane but he already got three out of seven."
No doubt with Freed's help. The Church's mistake was their reservation in executing their own members who will go rogue and kick them where it hurts. Freed was that kind of member.
"So. The pale bastard at least knows the fuck he's doing. Fuck the Church anyway. They hate fags and condemn them, but touch little kids and make it a secret. Little kids. Choir boys. Kids that failed their fucking test-tube. Hate those noise-making goblins but even I can tell that's messed up. But what did I get when all I said was 'Hey, Father, I don't think kids should call you 'daddy' at their age.'?"
"What?" The Assassin sniggered and decided to humor the Exorcist. Freed knew his trade but he sincerely must learn how to keep his rotor mouth shut one of these days. That said, the Assassin wasn't going to stop him if he was giving him free information.
"They fucking offered me if I want to try it."
"Well. Did ya?"
"Of course I fucking didn't." Freed spat on the ground. The Assassin visibly sniggered quietly. "Assholes took my gears. Stripped my 'permission to exorcise evil' and booted me away. And they had the gall to tell me to escort some sheltered prick." Freed seethed. Rage practically seared within his red eyes. "Good riddance, anyway. They move and plan like a paraplegic turtle. I'd be all bones before they decide on anything with some semblance of a meaning."
"My heart bleeds for you mate."
"Vaffanculo, pezzo di mierda. Fuck you, piece of shit."
"Why'd you say it twice?"
"Twice as satisfying to say."
They both cackled, not letting the rotting stench of the bodies or blood disrupt their humor.
"Enough about me. What are you here for? Ran out of heads in Hell?"
"Always plenty of them. None got a hefty enough price tag yet." He replied. He'd kill, just not for free. Not because wealth attracted him. He just didn't want to give things willy-nilly. A kill must have a decent price otherwise it'd be meaningless, and when one started to kill for the sake of killing, they became nothing more than murderers and would be hunted down by people like him.
He glanced around, unbothered by the putrid stench of miasma and the rotting limbless bodies. The mask certainly helped, if only for the placebo.
"In the off chance I might have to stop your employer some time in the future," he began, eyeing the Exorcist again to see how he'd react, "what'll you do?"
Freed looked at him, deeply insulted.
"I know I called you 'Fucker' but that doesn't mean you can be a retard and take me as a retard. I like my head where it belongs; between my goddamn shoulders. If you're going after Cockabiel, then he can get it in his ass for all I care. I'm just sticking by since he's my only employer and because of his crazy plans. The ship had holes in it before it even sailed. I wanna see how she sinks so I can point at it and laugh while I'm in the liferaft."
"Better paddle quick and far enough or it'll suck you in as she sinks."
"Yes, yes. You better fucking leave me be, capiche? I don't tell you all this shit for nothing."
"Guess we'll see." He shrugged. "How is Lint, by the way?"
"...Cazzo di merda… You fucking bastard. Ruthless son of a bitch aren't you." Freed seethed, knowing he wasn't asking about how his sister was doing and more about the things he was holding back. "...A little bird I have in Italy told me the Church's sending two Excalibur users to get their holy sticks back. I've killed enough Priests and apparently in doing so I've also killed the neurons in their brains. They've gone full retard and decided it's smarter to deliver us the few last swords."
"Mmh. Two Excaliburs. Scariest Holy Swords known to the Demon and Devils. Yet you don't sound worried."
"Because I'm not a fucking Devil." Freed laughed. "And I know them. Irina Shidou and Xenovia Quarta."
The Assassin's head twitched lightly. "Quarta. Never heard Griselda conceived a child."
"Adopted; God save her." Freed said. "Two hotshots thinking they're the shit because they cut down some Demons and know all the songs in the gospels. Now they aren't worth the trouble. It's that monster Griselda I'm staying away from and my fucking sister."
That described just how desperate and blindsided the Catholic Church had been. This also meant they must have agreed a term with the Devil or planning to. He saw how he could cour this into his favor; potentially earning him an associate from the Church. Expanding his network might have some use in the future, especially with what Sirzechs had in mind.
As for his little sister…
"They're trying to bring you back as well as the swords aren't they."
Freed's mouth was a thin hard line. "And they're gonna use my fucking sister. If you touch her, fratello…"
"Consider this impromptu meeting an equal exchange."
"Good. Because I don't know what I'll do to you but I'll fucking do it."
Threats didn't work on him. Idle threats more so. But the Assassin knew a degree of acknowledgment should be given between fellow hunters, elsewise they'd start conspiring to make him see them.
"Then what're you going to do when your sister's here?"
"I'll get the Crows to bring her and preferably Griselda elsewhere. She's a Saint but she's got a good heart. Act like you're hurt and she'll bless you to death. Irina and Xenovia are often paired up so Lint will likely be with her. And while they're gone; I'll ship the other two's heads back straight to Vatican City."
Freed looked up at him, donning his manic grin. "Unless you got another plan for them."
"I do have one, yes." One he made up on the spot. "It includes those girls being alive."
"Then I won't kill them. But their swords I'll take."
"Hard bargain there, Freed. Your sister I already spared. That's a life worth more than two swords."
Freed threw his hands in the air. "Look I gotta get him something. I'm working for him until the day I don't."
"One sword. Simply out of gratitude." He said with a tone of finality despite its unnerving calmness. "The other one I'll take, whichever you didn't pick."
"The fuck are you going to do with that sword?"
"Maybe ram it up your arse and see if it'll shut you up."
"Fine. I'll do with one sword, yeah. The other one's too fucking big anyway." Freed nodded several times, deciding this was a good deal. "Look. I don't give a shit about starting a stupid war or picking the 'right' side. The only 'right' side is the winning side for all I care."
"Don't waste your breath lecturing someone who agrees with you."
"I'm not lecturing, I'm ranting." Freed grumbled. "This maniac is trying to lit up a fire, but… the thing is, the world's already fucking burning. Always has been and always will. These people just don't know they're already tap dancing in the fire. It's amazing how the world's so fucking blind."
"Too much smoke got in their eyes, probably."
"Sì. And they rely on people like us to fan out the smoke and put out the sparks while they enjoy the fresh air."
"Where would they be without those brave men."
"Choking." Freed laughed. "They'll rely on themselves and still be at fuckin war because they're so goddamn smart at making things obvious. They take us for granted and think they 'own' us. What a joke. I'd slit their throat, but then I'll have no one to work for and I'm ass at managing a nation."
Freed huffed. The Assassin agreed. Categorically.
"I gotta get going. Those Crow cunts get antsy when they don't see me after an hour. Stay off my business and I'll stay off yours, capiche? Arrivederci." And Freed swiveled on his boots, his dark green cloak swaying behind him. "I'm so fucking cool."
"What about splitting if that happens."
Freed swiveled around with poise. "60-40. If I kill yours, I get 40. You take mine, you get 30."
"Shouldn't that be 50."
"I'm bad at math— wait, shouldn't it be 40?"
"Never said I'm better at arithmetics."
"60-40 it is." Freed affirmed after sniggering, throwing a quick two-fingers salute as he walked away from the scene. "See you when I see you, Assassino."
The Assassin started to walk back home as well, right after he poured several Holy Water the Exorcist gave him for a quick exchange of money, adding more false evidence for whoever came here and found the Stray's body.
Freed had gone by the time he exited the warehouse. It was a short hunt, but nonetheless a fruitful one. He didn't expect to meet the Exorcist during his way, but unexpected opportunities seemed to never shy away from him. Getting Freed to stick around to give the Devils a false lead was an easy task given the Exorcist's enjoyment for killing, and, most importantly, the ability to weigh possibilities and to never shut a door that might lead him to a better deal; in this case, earning a favor from the Assassin by 'accidentally' saying the things he might want to hear.
And now that he knew the Church no longer bound the opportunistic Exorcist, and was under Kokabiel's payroll, Freed Sellzen was an invaluable associate. The bad thing was; he couldn't keep his mouth shut to anyone that bothered to listen for more than five seconds. Good thing was; nobody could stand him talking and see his words as a bunch of random shit spewed by a madman.
But the Assassin knew better than to label him short as a crazy psychopath. They might have differences in their preferred methods, but in the end, they were men who had given up or ever tried to make sense of the world they lived in. Instead of trying to stop the chaos from spiralling out of control, they'd build a house on it and drink liquor while cracking jokes and enjoy the ride with daggers pinned to each other's throat.
Break
"It is done?"
Back on his current facade; the face and the looks of an unassuming human boy of generic descent, Hyoudou Issei gave the non-braided-brown-haired Grayfia-in-disguise a face of someone who had been insulted and took it in stride.
"Really. I got home and 'it is done?' is the first thing I hear?"
"People like you have no home. Only places they visit."
"Wow, rude." Issei shook his head but strutted along the house entrance, walking past the Devil, ignoring her calculating cold stare. "Yes, yes. You can tell him I got his straggler. Tell him his pretty little sister won't have to stay up late at least for the week. Reorder those words however the most pleasing you find."
Grayfia hadn't moved from her spot, keeping her eyes trained at his back. "You take an hour to take care of a single Stray Demon?"
" 'course not." He sat on a sofa and kicked up his legs, taking up all its three seats. "I took a little detour. Came by the school. Dropped some stuff." Telling truths without giving out the whole thing was a skill necessary. One he had gotten used to. He didn't see the need to tell her about his little deal with Freed. The Devils' enemies wouldn't automatically become his enemies - unless they pointed their finger at them and said 'sic 'em!'.
Before he raised her suspicion, he dragged the topic to something else equally as important. "The bird's still around, by the way." He told her, referring to the Phenex's pet familiar Phoenix. "Weird group, your lady's got. A Devil who never used her Neko-cat-Yōkai power thing, another Devil who's also a Fallen Angel and hates that she has black wings, and blames her father for things he couldn't change, and an exiled nun who became a Devil."
"You learn all this in just a day?"
"Sirzechs told me before I got here." And then he figured out the rest. "As for Kiba… well… I'm gonna guess he's got something with him. He's too nice to be good and his smile is the fakest. Won't be surprised if he has some kind of grudge. Childhood trauma I'm betting. Whatever it is, is it me or does Rias seem to fancy the broken? Hm?"
"I fail to see why her preferences should concern you or your tasks."
"They don't. Just a bit nosey, I was. Not blaming her or asking her motive, it just seems it's easier to mend the broken than those who aren't."
Grayfia narrowed her eyes critically. "Are you doubting her goodwill?"
"I'm an idiot if I don't." Issei said. "Good for her. Devil and all. Her brother did the same, didn't he? Just like his father did to you. I don't doubt their affection to their Servants and-or wives, of course. Just appreciating their cunning. Seems to run in the family."
He then shrugged. Grayfia's glare had dithered, more perplexed now. "The Phenex's bird is still there. Any news from Zechs about when I can twist its little neck yet?"
"None so far." Grayfia made her way towards the sofa as she shook her head. "Their family are currently discussing the matter. An unofficial Rating Game between Riser and Rias might become the final agreement."
"Well that's just bullshit." He glanced outside the window, staring out the dark backyard. "If things don't go his way, I can think of something. No Devil-killing, of course." Unless Sirzechs told him otherwise. Killing a Phenex would be a welcome challenge should it come down to it. "Strange is it? You can be the damn Satan and still you can't help your sister being pawned off."
Grayfia's fake brown eyes gazed on his equally fake browns. "Don't concern yourself with possibilities in the future."
"It's not a possibility. It's a fact. Straight out refusal is an insult to the Phenex. Especially since they initially agreed to have the marriage under the Gremory. That's their kid they're sacrificing here. Granted they have three more, but still."
"Fact or not, it's in the future. I'd imagine Satan Lucifer would prefer you to focus matters currently on your hands."
"Okay, okay." He raised his hands briefly. "Calm down, yheesh. It's a wonder how you talk like this constantly. What's it about, hm? Bad childhood? Not enough parental love or something? Oh… worried about your lil' brother?"
The stare was icy. Colder than the northern waste of Siberia.
Issei showed his empty palms again. "Still a sore spot, eh? Sorry 'bout that. Guess we all have things we don't wanna talk about. Though Roygun seems to know a little about what's going on between him and Rizevim Lucifer. I won't be surprised. He's the one distributing the King Piece after all."
"For what reasons are you telling me all this?"
"So you can inform Satan Lucifer of my suspicions, no?" He raised a brow. He noted the slight change in her expressions. The way the glare in her eyes softened at the mention of her brother, and the cold facade she put on was washed away by the worry of a sister.
"I thought that's why you're here." Issei laughed it off, playing the role of the fool so dastardly convincing. "Anyways... I'm fuckin' spent. I'll be in my bedroom, wanking. So knock before you enter."
And he left for his bedroom, yawning on his way, leaving the Lucifuge to mull quietly in the living room, alone.
Back in his bedroom, the Assassin had a little chat with the Devil via a two-way cell phone, relaying several of his findings as well as the potential of having one Excalibur in their possession, and the possible arrival of Sister Griselda Quarta, and discussed where they should place her in the playing board.
And lastly, Grayfia Lucifuge.
"Yep. She still got hearts for her little brother. Very sweet, really. Almost heartbreaking."
"Take it slow with her. Without me around, she'll lower her guard eventually. Have you spoken to Roygun?"
"She hates me. She'll gladly conspire with Grayfia. They just need to meet once."
"I'll have them meet with the pretext of checking our dear friend's mental condition and loyalty within two weeks. What else?"
"Let me see…" The Assassin jogged through his memories. "Ah, right. The Phoenix. The little bird is perched on your sister's trees."
"The deal's going nowhere." Annoyance was growing in the Crimson Satan's words. "The Rating Game is inevitable at this point. What do you have in mind?"
"I have something."
"That doesn't include the murdering of a royal blood."
"That alternative I have as well."
All the Assassin requested was a picture of the two sweethearts when they were little and two days of preparation and execution.
It was unfortunate for her to think Sirzechs sent her here to serve as his eyes, when their roles since the very beginning had always been set. That the person she talked to within Sirzechs' bedroom was not, in fact, the Satan himself, but the Assassin who had taken his face all while the real conductor hid within the shadows, admiring the work of his invisible right hand, and witness the scene he had orchestrated played nicely right before his eyes.
Sirzechs Lucifer intended to quell the last of the Lucifers, and that included the servants so loyal to him they would prefer death over absolution of their crimes. The Lucifuge had been known as their fiercest servants, and Grayfia Lucifuge, regardless of the excellent service she provided for the Gremory and the Satan, had always been the one under careful suspicion and under the false belief that she was trusted by Satan Lucifer to roam the halls unsupervised.
To be continued...