April had come to an end for the city of Putang and it's people were looking forward to the summertime. Many made plans for beach trips while others made preparations for vacations outside of the city with their families once school let out. But one man, an angel in fact, did not care for making vacation plans as he was far more concerned with more pressing matters. Those involving a demon and a ghost needing to be delivered.

Loincloth had been patient with Ruka, even allowing him an extra day to deliver the ghost given the time needed to prepare the human's proper death, but his time had now run out and he didn't deliver. So Loincloth was going to break every bone in his body, tear off his arms, and do other unsavory things as Loincloth always made good on his threats. He arrived at the apartment building where the demons lived and looked for the buzzer for their lot. Floor 3 Lot 8. He pressed the buzzer and waited for a response.

"...Who is it?" A familiar voice said over the intercom.

"Hey, Vest. It's Loincloth. I need to talk to Ruka." Loincloth answered.

"Talk to him...or maim him?"

"Possibly both."

"Well, he isn't here."

"Bullshit. You're hiding him."

"As if he'd let me hide him from anyone, especially you."

"Then I guess you wouldn't mind if I took a look around your lot to be sure."

"I am not obligated by the laws within this country to let you in here. So please leave."

Loincloth shook his head. These demons just don't get it, do they? "I'm gonna give you to the count of three. One...two...thre-"

"Okay okay okay!" Vest interrupted, "It's unlocked, asshole."

When Loincloth reached Vest's lot, he knocked on the door and was greeted with the admittedly worrying sight of Vest's bruised and beaten face, half-covered in bandages.

"...Do I need to tell Flat Cap?" He asked.

"What? Oh, oh no no no. Ruka didn't do this. He would never." Vest responded.

"Really? Then who did?"

"My bitch of a boss, that's who. Punishment for not getting her that ghost. Anyways," Vest gestured for Loincloth to enter, "Come on in and look around. Just don't make a mess."

Loincloth then ducked his head entering the lot and began searching the place for Ruka as Vest sat on the couch and continued his earlier reading. The angelic giant searched every room, closest, cabinet, and dresser, but the angry demon was nowhere to be found. It seemed Vest was telling the truth after all.

"Alright, where is he?" Loincloth asked.

"Taking a week-long bath in boiling oil back down in Hell." Vest answered, turning a page in his book. "His punishment for not getting the ghost."

"Well, where is it then?"

"He hadn't killed the guy yet. He was using him to get info on the Beret situation, but he let the 'I just want your soul' crap slip. It ended up getting violent and now we don't know where Bandana is. Could be miles away from the city by now. Speaking of Beret, did you and Flat Cap discover anything with the Moon Goonz?"

"Nothing condemning. Just typical human vice and esoteric cultist crap."

Vest sighed. "Then let's pray Chain was the traitor. Because if not, we're going to be in some deep shit."

"You maybe, but when this Nullsoul nonsense rears its ugly head, I'll tear it asunder with my own two hands. Maybe those affected will be worth a few heavens."

Vest closed the book and held it on his lap. "You know, it's angels like you that make me glad I'm a demon. Then again, you are Fallen, so it makes sense you'd be so self-centered."

"How am I self-centered?"

"There are people being turned into abominations and all you care about is your stupid bribe money."

"Says the guy sitting on his ass."

"I just got beaten within an inch of my life! Plus I'm the reason we even know about the Nullsoul Procedure so you can shove it!"

"And I'm sure those humans really appreciate you taking your sweet time saving them."

"You know what? Whatever." Vest huffed, "There's the door. Goodbye." He then went back to reading his book. It was then Loincloth noticed the title on the cover. The Disappearance of Mr. Kine.

"How far along are you?" He asked.

"What? Oh. I'm about like halfway through." Vest answered, "Why? Have you read it?"

Loincloth nodded. "If you like that one, I'd recommend Telo's Night of Oily Tears."

"I've heard good things about that one, but it's only sold in Heaven."

"I'll give you my copy if you're interested. I've already read it like six times."

Vest tilted his head in confusion. "Why the sudden generosity?"

"It's not often I meet someone with similar tastes in literature. You want it or not?"

"I mean, who am I to turn down free stuff?"

"Alright, I'll be back in a few minutes." Loincloth then took his leave and after about ten minutes, he returned with his copy of Night of Oily Tears. "Here you go." He said, handing the book to Vest. The hornless demon thanked him and as Loincloth was about to leave, Vest called out to him.

"I get it now."

"Get what?" Loincloth asked.

"You didn't have any friends growing up. That's why you started being nice."

"Excuse me?"

"I-I meant no offense, but you wouldn't have given me, a demon, this if you had other people to share in your interests."

"How the hell would you know? You don't know my life."

Vest let out a soft smile. "You and Ruka are more alike than you think."

"So I show you some kindness and you repay my generosity with insults?"

"I'm sure if Ruka wasn't a Wrathion, you two would've gotten along pretty well. Do you think he likes wanting to fight you all the time?"

"Allow me to answer your question with another question. Why do humanborn typically become demons?"

"Loincloth, I'm well aware of this."

"Then you should know why we aren't alike. He's being punished for his sins."

"And you're not?"

Loincloth took a step forward. "I was sent here unjustly! Condemned by the seraphim who hid their fear of me behind their supposed understanding of God! My strength, my skill, my power! All earned fairly through centuries of training and combat! I would've surpassed them in every way and they knew it! I wasn't going to let them take it all away from me!" He then took a moment to compose himself, "Enjoy the book, Vest. Don't expect any more generous acts."

When Loincloth exited the lot, Vest sighed. For as Loincloth vented his anger, he looked Vest directly in the eyes, giving the hornless demon a clear view of all his sins. His lust for power in all forms, his pride placing himself equal to, if not greater, than God, a cruel display of violence against his fellow angels, and his growing greed for Heaven coins. It read like some teenager's edgy fanfiction. Still, Vest wished his 'Sin Sight', as he liked to call it, showed him the reasons for those sins. If for no other reason than to understand the meathead.

Meanwhile, within one of Putang's many dark, dirty alleys, an argument was being had between Flat Cap and one of the goblin-like Moon Goonz.

"Come on, mate! Ya can't do this to me!" Flat Cap pleaded.

"I'm sorry, Flat Cap. But I'm on strict orders not to sell you anything." The Goon replied.

"I'll pay ya double! Triple! Name yer price!"

"Replace the mushroom patches your brutish sidekick torched and Long Ear will consider it."

"I tried to stop him! But the bastard never listens to me! I'm beggin' ya here, mate! I feel the withdrawal coming on!"

"That's not our problem, mate."

"There's gotta be somethin' I can do tae make it up tae ya!"

The Goon pondered for a moment. "Well, there is one thing. But you'd likely just screw it up."

"Try me!"

"Very well. No doubt you've heard about Chain's death. He ran the Crossers like a well-oiled machine, but with him gone they're currently disorganized and scrambling for a new leader, presenting an opportunity for expansion."

"I thought ya gobbos didn't care fer surface territories."

"We don't. But the Gator Legion does, as well as the sewers underneath them. I don't think I need to explain why any territory gained by the Gators would be detrimental for us."

"So ya want me to help the Crossers get their shite back together?"

"Fuck no, they're our competition. I want you to help the Odd Men of the South expand and prevent the Gators from doing the same. Our relationship with them is far more cordial, as is your own with Blindfold's lieutenant Headband. Do this and we'll sell you our product again. At a 15% discount rate."

Flat Cap stroked his beard as he thought of the offer. "It's pretty damn temptin', but Helmet would chew me ear off if he found out I was helpin' ya cause trouble."

"Then we'll make sure he doesn't. Do we have a deal?" The Goon held out a hand. Flat Cap hesitated at first, but he really needed to get those shrooms again unless he wanted to suffer withdrawal. Plus that 15% discount was just too good to pass up.

"Aight, lad. Ya got yerself a deal." He answered, spitting in his hand and grabbing the Goon's in a firm handshake. The Goon was less than appreciative of having angel spit in his hand, wiping it off on his black robe.

"Excellent. I will inform Long Ear. Don't disappoint us, Flat Cap." With that, the Goon hopped down the manhole next to him into the sewers, leaving Flat Cap to figure out how exactly to help the Odd Men expand and cripple the Gators without Helmet catching wind of his involvement. It was gonna take some serious cunning and good planning. As he ran through ideas in his head, he made his way to Putang's aptly named Mystic District. The Odd Men of the South had a strange effect on any territory they occupied. An unnatural mist permeated through it's streets, effigies and totems were a common sight, and the residents varied from generic looking wizards scrying crystal balls, fur-wearing shaman types dancing around a fire, and gatherings of tentacle monster cultists muttering in what seemed to be just complete gibberish. It was like every form of occult practice was done in this one section of the city.

Flat Cap soon arrived at the entrance to the Odd Men's main hideout, which had a singular door with no handle and a large nose at it's center. As he approached the door, he heard a voice inside his head.

"You stand before the Nose of Noses." It spoke, "The First Smeller. The Eternal Sniffer. The Primordial Schnoz. If you desire entrance, you must provide me with a sample of the First Scent."

In response, Flat Cap took out a black cigar, lit it up, blew a large puff of smoke at the nose, which was then sucked into it's nostrils.

"Aaaah yes~!" The voice spoke again, "The Scent of Death. You may enter." The nose then retracted into the door and opened. Stepping inside, Flat Cap could barely see five feet ahead him for the mist here was thickest, fitting for the very heart of the Odd Men's territory. He wandered aimlessly, catching glimpses of inhuman silhouettes in the mist. They were Blindfold's personal guard. Some believed them to be ghosts or a subspecies of demon, bound to Blindfold's will. Whatever they were, he could feel their eyes staring directly at him, which unnerved the angel, but he pressed on until he heard a raspy cackle from all around.

"You got some stones, little dove of excess." The voice said, "Just strolling on in here like you own the place. If you've come to interrogate me on the fat man's death, I will say only this: He was no more a victim than he who thought he knew who to trust."

"That ain't why I'm here, lad." Flat Cap said, doing his best to ignore the burning glares from the silhouettes, "To be frank, I could care less about that bastard."

"Is that so? Hmmm…Mmmmm...Yes...yes, yes, yes...I see the traces of residue about you. That of Goonz...You are here...to offer something."

Flat Cap nodded. "That's right. I know yer plannin' on expansion and I'm here to help ya."

"Help us...Help us for what? Why? Kindness of the heart?...No! No…You desired...The Goonz offered. In exchange, you would offer. As expected of the little addicted dove. But do you not fear discovery? The Knight forbade any involvement unless instructed...And you did not come here instructed."

"Let me worry about that. Now ya want me help or not?"

All was silent. So silent it was, one could hear a pin drop. For a moment, Flat Cap believed that his help had been rejected. Until he saw a figure approaching him, followed by a second, then a third. The mist in front of him slowly thinned as the figures came closer, revealing more and more of their features. The first figure revealed itself to be Blindfold, his wide half-toothless mouth forming a friendly, if somewhat unsettling, smile. Behind him was Headband, Blindfold's number two and Flatcap's drinking buddy. The third figure was some hunchbacked gremlin-looking creature. It reminded him of that one nerdy movie with the ring.

"We...accept!" Blindfold exclaimed, opening his arms, or in this case arm, wide.