AN: Wow… I thought Devils, Dragons, and Other Nonsense was a fluke… Guess I was wrong. Apparently y'all DxD people love my shit for some reason, dunno why. Thanks for the reviews tho!
Thanks to Creno K for beta-ing this chapter!
worom001 –(1) Yeah those people are a completely different breed lmao. Honestly, angels and devils don't really hold a candle to the wackiness of the residents of the world's largest penal colony [Australia], and the swampy ass end of the earth [Florida]. (2) Don't worry, redneck magitek will play a part… :). (3) My motivation is fickle, but I think I settled myself into some resemblance of a routine now. Hopefully, I'll take this story farther than the other ones. (4) Holy shit, I can't unhear it now… Thanks for the youtube rec!
The Commissar 13 – *Shia Labeouf intensifies*
hollandia1103 – Glad to have you here too! May you have many keks to come…
NazgulBelserion – Huh, didn't know that. Still, ima do knock off names 'cause it's funnier that way.
CHAPTER II – Magic Happenings, Magical-er Exposition
Fun Fact of the Day: There are approximately 1.75 times as many barrels of bourbon as there are people in Kentucky.
"¿¡Qué mierda quieres decir, 'soy un Chrysler'!?" Gee I wonder who that could have been?...
The resident not-Mexican, who didn't have residency, because he was not Mexican, but Puerto Rican, not that many Americans knew the difference – Oh! For fuck's sake – two sentences in and the narrator already had gone off onto a tangent.
The point was, the bastard shouted loud enough that it felt like a rabid Finnish monkey was jabbing ice picks into Lee's eardrums.
Krrk..kk…
And this unfortunate fact almost distracted him from the dying hue-man. The poor lad on the ground didn't have much in the looks department; though, the giant pink glowing spear shredding the boy's chesticle organs into a fried puree wasn't doing him any favors either. While by himself, the boy would have had a chance – the fact that the spear blasted out light energy like no tomorrow wasn't much to devil tastes.
But who was Lee to complain? He wore a mullet for goodness sake!
Eugh… Glrkk…
The boy, now unconscious and limp with his face against the dirt, belched up a glob of blood, almost splattering Lee's nice shoes. Quite the dignified position to be, especially when your mortal soul was raring to go buy a pack of cigarettes from the gas station, or at least, that was what they told little Timmy.
Daddy will be back… For sure!
Good thing Lee didn't have to guess where the weapon came from, as it was immediately obvious.
Either an Angel… or Fallen.
Such insight!
But, alas, the real world had called, and he needed to respond; only so much exposition could be stretched across this wonderful digital medium of text. So, he spoke the first words that popped out of his mind,"You run like shit, and you think you're American!"
Oof! Bad choice, Lee! You best be careful, or else you could get canceled for such controversial remarks…
It seemed that his Tik Tok-raised brain, even after the whole reincarnation shaboodle and a significant amount of life without internet, couldn't focus on anything for more than one second unless it was a seizure-inducing, 字节跳动有限公司-funded, High-Fructose-Corn-Syrup-slathered shitpost.
Oh, how the unmighty hath fallen even further; a pathetic state, undignified for such a feeble mind like his. Surely, at some point, mocking his shortcomings would be considered ableism…
The narrator sincerely hoped he would never fall to such lows; it just wouldn't make for an interesting story. Besides, he had a conscience, which was more than what one could say of your average Walmart bathroom user.
Oh shit, that was way less racist in my head…
Sticks and stones, Lee… Sticks and stones…
Mercedes reeled back and mock gasped at the travesty, eliciting the faintest inkling of half-shame throughout Lee's left buttock – only to be quickly quashed.
So much for conscience.
Still though, Lee was in quite the pickle: Double down on the Karen, or apologize and lose?... That was one hell of a question!
On the one hand, he wasn't planning on buying pimped out white robes, waving Johnny Reb's flag, and burning crosses… but on the other hand, if he apologized, he would have looked like the biggest pussy in the whole wide world…
Decisions, decisions… Hmm…
"W-wha…" Cletus sputtered after an unusually long bout of silence – which, by the way, was very uncharacteristic of him, "I-I…" His blubbering knocked the two off their little not-so-Cuban missile crisis, "I…I don'–Wh–"
Spit it out!
Eventually, he managed to finally summon his very limited vocabulary and wrangle it to partial coherency – quite the feat, considering that having him master the English language was equivalent to slamming a hardcover mathematics textbook on a 3rd grader's face and expecting them to proficient in quantum mechanics the day after, "W-what the fuck we gon' do!? I mean, the–this poor Chinese kid's dyin' 'ere!"
Mercedes, fully forgetting about Lee's questionable remark, or more likely ignoring it, crouched down and inspected the boy on the ground, taking note of the writing on his t-shirt, "Eh… Actually, I think this one's Japane–"
"I-I-I don' give a flyin' fuck what flavor o' rice he is!" Cletus screeched, arms waving around like an indecisive traffic officer, "He's bleedin' out like a motherfucker – he boutta die!"
Hot damn, did these verbal terrorists know what they were doing? Didn't they know such remarks could have them deplatformed by a bunch of no life losers in their mothers' basements!?
Come 2020, there's no hope for them… Satan their souls.
Mercedes, pointedly ignoring that first part even though in the workplace it was worth a lawsuit, poked the boy on the cheek. It was starting to get cold…
"...He's already dead."
"Gee! I wonder why, Doctor!?" Cletus spat back venomously.
Mercedes sighed and glanced over to Lee, "What the hell are we gonna do now?..."
Lee, only able to muster with a slight shrug in apathetic confusion, looked back at the body. Leaning real close, he appraised the spear stabbed through it as if he were a San Francisco museum goer, wondering whether the turd left on the ground by a local homeless man was yet another piece of fine art or not.
To devils, light spears were shitty to be around… So, it would have made no difference if it had been a big ol' log of dookie regardless.
"Maybe, it's because of this fuck-huge lightning spear stuck in his–" Then, Cletus – ever the curious buffoon, or soon-to-be darwin award nominee, depending on who you asked – started creeping over towards the boy's body. He recklessly reached out for the spear; Lee immediately took notice.
"Ah-Ah-Ah!" He sounded, raising his hand, "I wouldn't do that if I was you…"
Cletus, of course, ignored this sage advice.
Sssssss…
"–OW! FUCK!" He flinched back, fingers sizzling like sausages on a grill. As he tried to shake the pain away, Mercedes grabbed his wrist casted a healing spell on it, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes in mild disapproving disappointment.
"Told ya," Lee wisely rubbed salt into the freshly healed wound. Cletus gave him a scathing glare, as if the consequences of his actions were never his fault.
Self-awareness was for losers anyway – who the hell needed it?
Based…
Well, that just popped out of nowhere… Let's see where it goes!
Based… Base… like the base of a checkers board.
Where the hell're you going, mind?
And the board… Checkerboard – what other game had a checkerboard?…
…Wait… That's right – Chess!
A lightbulb proudly Made in China(TM) shined brightly above Lee's head, before flickering out because his social credit was two points too low. All hail our supreme leader Xi "Not fucking Winnie" Jinping!
…Ah, there we go!
Lee, go ahead. Continue your enlightenment!
Evil Pieces!
And the idea stuck, praise the CCP!
He dropped his bag on the ground the same way his new parents dropped him on the head as a baby (He still held a grudge against them for that, along with all the other shit he had baggage about), and rummaged through his baggage at warp speed. The other two looked at him exactly as if he were that baby.
C'mon… Where is it?... Where is it?...
As Lee dug through the unorganized mess in the bag, he followed his train of thought, which was equally as jumbled as he helmed it with Amtrak incompetence.
First of all, he finally remembered where he knew the boy on the ground from – that goofy haircut, it seemed, transcended petty interdimensional boundaries and unclear memories. Lee had been preparing for this day ever since he remembered Murphy's Law and the vague snippets of plot that trickled out from deep in his dreams from time to time.
The universe dumped the protagonist onto his lap; and since he couldn't see any buxom, red-haired love interests nearby, it seemed that fate decided to make Issei "Fuck you physics, I'm a muthafuckin' dragon" Hyoudou, horny extraordinaire and possible savior of the multiverse his problem now.
Ain't that nice?
His fingers then brushed against warm ivory, he stopped in his tracks.
Ah! There it is!
He pulled out a handful of glowing red chess pieces out of the bag. Both Mercedes' and Cletus' eyes widened, eyes locked onto it tighter than Fort Knox. They both immediately understood the implication of the decision that Lee was about to make:
To reincarnate, or not to reincarnate?
He scratched in deep thought…
…
…
…Deeper than your mo–
Of course, he could choose to reincarnate the boy, but that basically guaranteed that supernatural bullshit was gonna come crashing down on his relatively peaceful existence. He wasn't sure he was ready for such a shitstorm quite yet.
Yet, if he didn't… well… that was just a potential death sentence to the world. There might have been an untold number of Big Bads gearing up all their destroy/conquer the world plans, and if there was no Issei to stop them, the shitstorm was gonna come anyway…
Why did it have to be him of all people? What fucking idiot put the fate of the world in his hands?
Once again – Decisions, decisions…
It seemed that Lee was making a lot of those lately…
But, there was one good perk of being a leader, even one as petty and meager as him, and that was that you could delegate your problems to your subordinates. Your boss knew this one – it's why you hate your job; you're not just doing yours, you're doing his as well and he gets paid for it.
"Alright, quick vote! 30 seconds!" Lee grabbed the two's undivided attention. There was a time limit for reincarnating, and a soul only stays in a dead body for so long (it's really itchin' for those cigarettes right now), "Do we reincarnate the kid before his soul goes all…" Lee made a fluttering whistle before blowing a raspberry, "…or do we say 'fuck it' and get digging?"
"I mean…" Mercedes scratched his temple, "...Won't the trouble he brings come after us too if we do?"
Whoa, there, partner… Hold off on that telepathy of yours…
"Well, if dat trouble comes all the way 'ere for a dead kid, I'm thinkin' that trouble you was talking 'bout woulda had us in the crossfire regardless." Cletus disagreed, taking a good look at the corpse, "So, might as well do somethin' good n' save his life..."
"Fair point, fair point…" Mercedes hummed, hand moving on to scratching his hairless chin. He then gave Cletus a contemplative look, with a hint of humor, "But… that sounds awful nice of you, Cleats… Almost out of character, one might say…"
"Hey! I can be nice when I want to…" Cletus retorted, rolled his eyes, "And 'sides, we could use a little diversity in our team."
"Diversity? We already have that!" Mercedes gestured to himself, full of pride about his half-Latin heritage.
"Yet, accordin' to politicians and a-firmament actions or whatever, Puerto Ricans don't count." Lee could almost see the sole rubber flying through Cletus' teeth from the sheer amount of foot-in-mouth – but, as amusing as it was, they were still on the clock,
"So yes or no? We're runnin' low on time." Lee tapped a finger on a wristless watch.
"Yes!/¡Sí!" they barked simultaneously.
Cowabunga it is!
Lee took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself – Adding a new member always took a lot out of him. It was an enormous amount of power, enough to light up a small city, a third-world country, or a single NFT transaction of that San Francisco excremento worth more than your daddy's paycheck.
Lee made a mental note to put some money into coin and bail out in 2021. It never hurt to be fuck-you rich…
He rubbed his hands together, as if he were trying to start a fire, and the chess pieces started floating up into the air.
But first… He raised a hand, the spear took on a red glow. It pulled itself out, some blood spurting along the way, and it was thrown into a nearby tree. Lee crouched down, and the first evil piece got absorbed into Issei's chest cavity.
…Nothing happened.
He pushed the next one down…
…Nada.
How many was it again? He questioned.
The Third… Fourth…
Surely, he can't be worth more than five…
Fifth… still nothing… Sixth…
Well fuck my ass and call me Shirley, he's really taking it all…
Seventh.
Unholy fuck, man. Yer taking up all my stock here! I'm down to my last one! You better be thankful when you wake up…
With a silent prayer, made of gumption, hope, and a lil' duct tape, he pushed the last piece in…
Nothing…
…
…
…
…Did I really waste all those pieces on a dead–
Suddenly, a blinding red flash assaulted Lee's eyes. His little pea-brain did a happy dance.
–It worked! He's alive! Mwahahaha!
Calm down there, young Frankenstein, you still have to bind the bastard to you pack of inbreds.
Oh, right!
"Eh-hem…" Lee cleared his throat…
"Something, Something, Magic, Something,
I don't know the fucking words.
Don't be a dick, and don't die quick,
And the four big angels are birds."
A circle appeared and flashed over the body, and Lee felt the collective power of a thousand coffees leave his bloodstream. He let out a wheezing gasp, almost collapsing, out of breath…
This knockoff of a spell – his ol' reliable for inducting new blood – was horribly inefficient, even by devil standards. But, it was the best he got with his means. It was the complete opposite of proper procedure or tradition that devils were so ironically fond of, but since when the heaven did he care about stupid bullshit like that? He stole and jury-rigged his whole damn set out of repurposed strays for Satan's sake!
"Okay… Mercedes?" The Latino perked up as Lee used the last of his power to float Issei to his arms, "Get to healin'... and Cletus… yer drivin'..." The world started to twist and turn, the edges of his vision getting real dark, "I… I'm gonna… I'm gon' nap now…"
Lee blacked out.
With an extraordinary amount of willpower, Lee forced his eyes to open once more. His hand came up to wipe the drool off his cheek.
"Life is a highway… I wanna ride it all night long…~" The radio idly sang.
"Afta'noon, sleepyhead…" Cletus announced from the left.
He was driving the pickup, and Lee was in the passenger seat. Half zoned-out, Lee looked out of the window and saw the same old wood passing by. A familiar curve came up, he estimated around a half-an-hour before they were all back in the grace of Bainesborough.
Glancing at the rear-view mirror, he saw Billy-Joel bouncing his leg and twiddling his thumbs like a little kid waiting for math class to end. Next to him, Mercedes kept Issei's limp body still as he held a glowing hand to where that bleeding hole used to be.
"If you're goin' my way; Well, I wanna drive it all night long…~"
"Ey, Lee…" Mercedes' voice snapped Lee out of his fugue, "Could you change the station – they've been playing that same damn song from Vehicles for an hour straight… I'm going loco here!"
With both the energy and speed of a mildly enthusiastic snail, Lee lazily reached for the change channel buttons. The pickup, despite being from the hairspray and neon era, was outfitted with a surprisingly modern radio set, and even a cd player – presumably from whoever had the truck before the Robertsons, because that clan could barely muster a penny on a good day…
"Through all these cities~" Click.
At least Lee didn't have to sort and search through static, though, to be fair, the local stations themselves were little better…
"–This is the Rush Limbaugh program, with talent on loan from–" Click.
Nope. Luther casually changed the channel. He wasn't really feeling the Archie Bunker conservatism at the moment…
Yet, it always amused Lee when everyone labeled a milquetoast neocon boomer type like Rush Limbaugh as the antichrist walking the Earth, especially with him having memories of the post-truth politics to come.
This era of 2011… it had an odd sort of innocence to him, like the 16 year old previous-life him applying for his first job at Wendy's excited to finally get his own money – unknowing of what madness or Karen-y was to come.
Enjoy it while it lasts, you dumbs fucks – Trump and Covid's gonna spitroast ev'ry one of ya's…
Click.
Click.
Click. "–And those homosexuals and transvestites will buuuuurn in eternal hellfire! I promise you, God hates all sodomizers and God hates all fa–"
Everyone flinched, "Ow! Fuck off back to the closet, Father Phelps."
Click.
Lee, and the rest of the car nursed their headaches. All of the Jeebus channels made listening to the radio a risky business for devils like them…
Click.
Click.
"–Obama is ruining this country–!"
"Dig deal! So did Bush," Click.
"–Get 20% off on the 2012 Ford–!" Click.
"And then you pound me dry with that 25% APR – no way, José!"
Lee knew that sneaky lil' trick because one of Billy-Joel's cousins served in Iraq, and then got swindled out of his GI Joe paycheck because he thought he was getting a new car for cheap.
Needless to say, he was still broke to this day…
Click.
"–Introducing our special guest, Joel Osteen–" Click.
"Oh, Helllll~ nahhh~", Lee let out his inner Bishop Bullwinkle by a visceral reaction from hearing that name.
Never had he hated a man he'd never met more than Joel fucking' Osteen. The very idea of that man coming into his thoughts was enough to make him seethe. And Joel Ostrich living rent-free in his head also left a bad taste in his mouth.
He didn't hate the one true prophet Osteen (peace be upon him, bismillah – OW!) just because he was a devil, and Joel, a Christian… If you could call that gimpy megachurching wannabe cult leader one – which prosperity gospel peddlers didn't, especially as sentient beings, in Lee's very unbiased and justified opinion.
No, his reason was far more petty…
Lee hated the guy because at 3 a.m., when he accidentally left the television on overnight, every single network had the bright idea to put the bastard's sermons on to fill in empty, unprofitable air time. Many an early morning, he was given a rude awakening from this goober fellating the Big-G on a stadium stage, flashing his pearly whiter-than-the-Kool-Kids-Klub-laundry-room, gummy, horse-toothed looking-ass smile right at him–
–Lee stopped himself just before his finger punched a hole through the radio. Devil rage was one helluva drug…
Deep breaths… In and out…
Click.
Click.
Click.
"–Built this city… We built this city on rock and roll…~"
Suddenly, everyone in the car erupted into protests:
"No, No!" Cletus growled, almost running them all off the road in visceral rage.
"Turn it off… Turn it off!" Billy-Joel begged, clamping his hands over his ears.
"Puta Madre!" Mercedes shouted, accidentally kicking the back of Lee's seat.
His lizard brain could register the awful sonic slag from the Reagan era of rock, Lee started reaching for the radio, but Cletus beat him to the punch–
"We built this–" Click.
Mercifully, the world went silent, no longer haunted by Starship's wrath nor by self proclaimed holy men (with generous funding by the Republican Party); they all sat back blissfully, watching the trees whip by as Cletus drove ten over the speed limit. Lee could only shake his head in disappointment – not at Cletus' reckless driving, though it would have been perfectly understandable – but at the state of modern broadcast radio.
Satan, I fucking hate living here…
Yet unfortunately, that was all that Lee and by extension, the rest of Bainesborough had. Other than the ten-something dogshit stations (including both FM and AM), all he had was the most barebones cable television service imaginable – which he still paid out the ass for since Comcast lorded their monopoly over the filthy non-urban peasants.
And anything above dial-up internet? As those rats from New York say: Fuggedaboutit!
Truly, he was living Ted Kaczynski's wet dream…
He lethargically turned his head, looking out into the great woods beyond, suspiciously clear of wildlife and IED/Moonshine manufactorums. A light sigh escaped his lips as the pickup turned to a long straightaway.
Then, an uneasy feeling… A feather came out of nowhere and stuck itself to the windshield.
Wait…
"What the hel–?" Lee started.
A black blur shot up ahead, high up in the sky. Before they could all react, a bright white flash–
Shunk!
Pop! Pop!
Suddenly, a bright pink jagged light pierced the pickup's engine; the front, practically half melted, burned and cracked as the remaining pieces blew themselves apart into foul smelling flames, thankfully, not in the cabin. Cletus lost control and the pickup swerved into a tree, airbags giving him and Lee a good Tyson haymaker to the nose.
Seconds later, as rationality finally overcame the pain of whiplash and a bonked nose– Gonna be feeling that for a few weeks… – Lee watched, through the shattered glass and the waning airbag, as a figure landed in the distance, wings splayed out.
He looked back: Billy-Joel, Mercedes, and Issei looked relatively unharmed, with the minor exception of Cletus, who now sported a few tiny bleeding cuts on his forehead – nothing a few SpongeRob band-aids and some isopropyl alcohol couldn't fix…
Good, Lee thought – he didn't want to be left paying the hospital bill if Mercedes had been conked out; Obamacare only went so far.
The figure, now close enough that Lee could tell it was not only a woman, but a fallen angel as well, started stalking towards them with a feline grin and a giant glowing pink dil–spear in her hand. He squinted, and…
Is there even a point to wearing clothes if it's just that?...
…He was given a bold reminder of what kind of world he was stuck in. Move over logic and common sense, this world was rated e for ecchi – prepare for explosions and blue balls, all wrapped up in a flair designed by a 30 year old basement dweller from Hiroshima-Nagasaki-something Japan, who liked high-schoolers maybe a teeny tiny tad bit too much.
Ugh… Lee reached for the car door, Let's get this over with–
"I woul'n't do dat…" Cletus put a firm hand on Lee's shoulder, giving him the look.
"Wait," Lee raised his hand, "Don't tell me! You actually used your sacred gear for something useful!?"
Cletus huffed, bestowing his future-gained wisdom upon the filthy ignoramus named Lee, "Y'get yer pecker n' cottonballs cut off by 'er, and some mighty mean brain surgery hap'n'ed after…"
Oof! Lee instinctively covered his crotch, Yeah, that woulda been a problem… Hopefully, nothing like that happens this time 'round…
As the scene unfolded without him ahead, Lee still had a few pertinent questions, like – "How the fuck are we gon' take her down, then?"
"Oh, Billy-Joel's taking care o' dat one right now," Cletus answered casually.
"Wait, Blowjob!?" Lee's head whipped back to see an empty seat and an open door. Back outside, the big man himself stood between the fallen and the pickup, seemingly as zen as a Buddhist monk.
Slowly, Billy-Joel peeked back, taking an eyeful of his totaled engine, before immediately glaring at the broad, who still regally sauntered as if she were queen shit of the sewer.
An oppressive aura hit the area: the trees shook as the birds flew away, and the fire over the engine was snuffed out, leaving only the sound of creaking metal and deafening silence. The woman stopped in her tracks, eyes widened like saucers. Veins bulged like pythons in Billy-Joel's arms as he made leaden fists, his eyes beaming absolute hatred toward the mortal who dared kill his precious…
"Oh, shit…" Lee unintentionally muttered, he'd only seen Billy-Joel go like this a few times…
"Yup," Cletus monosyllabically added.
"That poor, dumb bitch…" Mercedes shook his head.
"..." Issei bookended with his profound commentary.
Ass beating in 3… 2…
Billy-Joel vanished in place, leaving behind a shockwave. The fallen woman tried to dodge, using her wings to leap into the air. But, it was all for nought, as the inevitable came: Billy-Joel's meaty fist struck her face like Mehmed's cannons to the walls of Constanti–nope, it's Istanbul now!
Lee so desperately wished for a slow-motion camera to capture that moment, but alas, he was forced to settle with watching the aftermath, as the bitch made a less-than-graceful landing.
Billy-Joel pressed the attack, crossing the created distance between them in no time. The woman, quick to react, formed a light spear in her hands, and tried to stab him. Billy-Joel slapped it away like she was a toddler hitting him with a plastic sword.
"Is this what they call retard strength?" Mercedes questioned semi-innocently.
Oh, not you too! All of you fuckers are hopeless!
"Whoa, there!" Lee interjected, "We use 'Differently abled' here, partner! This is a progressive and PC peerage, I'll have you know…"
"Progressive?" Mercedes scoffed, "There's a literal fucking Confederate flag painted on this truck."
"And where is it now? Melted away into molten metal, 'cause of that spear in the engine." Lee gave a smarmy smile as he gestured ahead "See? Progress!"
"RRRAAAGGHHHHH!" They each caught a glimpse of terror in the woman's eyes before Billy-Joel grabbed her by the wing and slammed her into the road.
He went to town, pounding her face into the asphalt until it was practically a bloody crater. Evidently, it was a beatdown of the ages – this gorilla of a man giving an asskicking far outclassing anything WWE could dish out on pay-per-view.
She was thrown around like a pair of broken plastic nunchucks, Billy-Joel slamming her body into anything and everything. Not one surface in the area hadn't met her face – the road, the dirt, the trees, the grass, the leaves – she'd been dragged across them at one point or another.
Lee hadn't seen Billy-Joel like this in a long while; the dumb fallen really pissed him off by breaking his precious. Never underestimate how highly a man valued his vehicle…
But alas, she eventually managed to slip his grasp. The fallen, launching from Billy-Joel's broad chest, launched up to the leaves, disappearing without a trace.
"And there she goes…"
Billy-Joel stared blankly ahead for a few seconds, processing… and then his face ripped into a rictus. He started stomping around like a toddler, leaving big cracks in the asphalt as he did so.
"Gah! FUCK! FUUUUUUCK!" He shouted to the heavens and hells, uncaring in his rage.
And to top it all off, he went to the nearest sign, pulled it from the ground, and bashed it into a tree until it was shaped like a question mark.
Quietly, as they watched the spectacle, Lee pulled out his phone, and speed-dialed the top contact. Then, after cooling down from a bout of pants-staining rage, Billy-Joel cooled down and reluctantly rejoined the group.
…
30-Something Minutes Later…
"So, what you're saying is…" The guy that Triple-A sent took in the scene, all the cracks and holes in the road, the big-ass crater nearby, the totaled pickup with the lightspear still stuck through it… "You hit a deer?"
"You… could say that…" Lee said shamelessly, leaning against the pickup as a side door fell off.
Clang!
Lee and the guy entered a short staring contest, and the latter narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Meanwhile, the others were laying around on the side of the road. Billy-Joel sulked right next to a tree, Cletus casually lit up a smoke, and Mercedes was busy looking over Issei's still somehow-unconscious body…
…A good half-minute passed, and the guy blinked, huffing.
"Well, it's y'all's insurance, not mine." They guy shrugged, "Ain't none o' my business…" He walked to his tow truck, and began the process of hooking it to the pickup.
Cletus got up from his ass and stolled on over right next to Lee, cigarette in hand…
It was then that Lee had realized something, "Wait, how come you didn't save the truck too?"
"Ya think I didn't try?" A puff of smoke blew out of Cletus' mouth, "Bitch had good aim…"
Lee scoffed, extending his hand. Cletus took a smoke out of his pack and passed it to Lee. Lee put it between his lips, made a spark with the snap of his fingers, and let the sweet nicotine into his lungs. If there was one good thing about being a devil, it was that you didn't get petty mortal diseases like lung cancer.
He blew smoke through his nose, "Yeah… We gotta hunt her down soon… Can't have a Fallen like her running around in our territory willy nilly." Another huff, "Say… What the hell's her name anyway?"
"Hmm... Don' know what y'lookin' at me for… I don't know shit." Cletus shrugged.
Lee rolled his eyes and turned back, "'Ey Blowjob!" The sulking hulk raised his head, "Did ya get 'er name!?"
"Uh… She sai' i' was a Randall or Rainer or somethin', I dunno!" Billy-Joel responded.
Lee gave Cletus a look, "It's a start, I guess…"
"Oi!" The Triple-A guy called out from the tow truck, "I'm finished here. Ya comin' or what?"
The Next Day…
Ah… Eugh…
Issei… felt like absolute shit, like he'd been run over by 20 elephants and been bukkaked by the last in line. There was a searing pain in his ribs, and the morning sun, which was too damn bright even with his eyes closed, positively made him want to hurl.
He rubbed his eyes, and tried shifting positions on the bed… only to find that it didn't quite feel right. The springs were just a tad bit too large, and poked into his back a lot more than usual…
His half-awake mind brought him back to that strange nightmare, with that girl with the wings. Funny how real it seemed…
How could have it happened? Even he, in all his shamelessness, admitted that there wasn't a chance in hell he'd score a hottie like that…
…Nor would he ever convince someone to wear an outfit like that – Hot dayum!
I need to stop watching so much dominatrix porn, it's really messing with my head…
An old friend came up to greet him at the merest calling,
Ah! I was wondering where you were!
He shifted again; a spring popped as soon as he put his weight on it. No, something was really off…
Wait… He sniffed the too-thin sheet over his body. This doesn't smell like my bed.
Issei opened his eyes, finally taking in his surroundings… and his blood ran cold. Where the hell am I!?
A person he didn't recognize greeted him, "Oh, you're awake now–" And Issei, now in full chimpanzee panic mode, followed his first instinct:
He punched, and he punched as hard as he could… right into the crotch of his would-be captor as it turned out. By the time he realized the error of his ways, his fist was already flying at mach 5.
Thump!
"Ough!" The recipient crumpled like wet toilet paper, and as Issei's vision cleared, he caught sight of a red hat flying across the room. The person, a gaijin at first glance, crouched into a sort of walking fetal position, "Fuck! Cocksucking Fuck! OW! Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck!..."
Half horrified, he watched as the person hobble-paced around the room, hissing and seething between their teeth, sweating like a stuck pig. Subconsciously, in sympathetic pain, his hand moved to protect his ever-so-valuable family jewels.
"Ow… Ow… Shit! Mary's fuckin' tits, it hurts like a motherfucker – Aghhh!"
That red hat… Why was it so familiar?
Issei compartmentalized that thought, focusing on the here and now. His mind did a rushed, panicked assessment of his current circumstances:
Whoever this person was, he looked to be around Issei's age – a teenager, nothing was tying him down or binding him far as he knew, and this place… it was pretty small and run down.
"Oh Lord Satan, how I wish I could curse out that bearded cunt upstairs and his hippie son right now. Fuck…" That turn of phrase piqued Issei's interest… and then it hit him.
This foreigner was speaking flawless Japanese – down to the very tone of voice and inflection!
How!? He wondered, What the hell happened!
As Issei's brain crashed and rebooted, the westerner hobbled along towards what looked to be the fridge, almost purple in the face, "Oh… I'm gonna need an ice pack… Fuck me…"
"U-Uh… E-excuse me…How did–" Issei, the idiot, stuttered as soon as he regained his wits.
"Just!..." The westerner raised his hand, silencing Issei, "Just hold on, please," He fished around, and eventually pulled out what he was looking for. Taking a deep breath, he put the ice pack to his crotch, "Ssss! Ah! Ow… Damn…"
He turned to Issei, finally letting the boy have a good look at the new face, "I think you just ended my bloodline here, have some Satan-damned patience…" There was an admonishing tilt to the other's tone, like what Issei would hear from a teacher when he'd fool around with his friends. Yet, there wasn't that much of a bite to it either, like to a puppy who pissed the bed.
A minute passed in awkward silence as they studied each other…
In Issei's honest, heterosexual opinion, the guy didn't look too bad – sure, he wore a mullet like it was still the 80's and a frizzy, thin, teenage mustache clung to his lip by share non-shaving laziness… but despite all that, he actually kinda looked… beautiful(?), almost supernaturally so. If he were a girl, he'd probably would have chased this guy to the ends of the Earth.
A pang of jealousy stabbed at his vulnerable heart, festering into mild anger!
Nobody deserves those looks! Hand them over, damned Ikemen!
But, just as quickly as it came, the jealousy ding-dong ditched as the westerner gimp walked across the room to retrieve his hat. The sympathy pain of a fellow man hit Issei once more, as he regretted his life – there were a few things you should never do to another man, and he'd just broke it in the first second.
Bro-Code Rule 3: Never hit another man in the nuts, unless it's funny.
Issei lowered his head in endless shame. He dishonored his family and his ancestors, and he was seriously considering sudoku…
…Fuck, did he hate doing math.
Eventually, the westerner came back around, and started to seat himself on the nearby sofa; excruciatingly slowly, like a tortoise brain surgeon, he lowered his posterior down until it met the cushion, lest it trigger the wrath of his iced frank and beans.
"Alright…" The westerner huffed, "Now you may talk." He gave Issei a surprisingly friendly expression considering the circumstances.
Issei couldn't hold it in, "Sorry!" He tried to bow, but almost fell off the bed.
"No, no…" The westerner waved him off, "I'm the one who should be saying sorry for waking you up like that…" He slowly looked down, "...Nice shot, though."
"S–"
"Nope!" The westerner interrupted, "No more apologies – just questions. Fire away!" He pointed a finger gun at Issei.
"Right! Uh… Who… Who are you?"
"Well, my name's Lee Adams Dougherty, or at least, that's what's on my birth certificate here in Kentucky. You can call me Lee!" Issei focused on Lee's Japanese… Now that he was really listening, he noticed that there was a bit of a bumpkin accent weaved through his words.
Maybe the guy who taught him was from the countryside…
…
…Wait–
"Whoa-whoa-whoa! Wait-a-minute, Kentucky?" Issei cut in quickly, "As in Colonel Sanders Kentucky!? I'm in that Kentucky!?"
The westerner – Lee Issei reminded himself – rolled his eyes, "First of all, Colonel Sanders s'from Indiana. And second, yes, you're in that Kentucky." He shifted positions, "Before we move on, though, I have a few questions – One, What's yer name? And two, Do you feel any different in any way?…"
"I'm… Hyoudou Issei, or… Issei Hyoudou, if that's right…" The other nodded, confirming, "And… Yeah…" Issei groaned, looking out the window "I feel lightheaded – the sun's giving me a headache…"
"Oh, that's just dehydration and jet lag. I meant something really different, like… you know–" Lee shrugged, "–a new muscle, or something you haven't felt before…"
Now that he had thought about it, though… there was something new that wasn't there before; something in his back, itching to be free. He tried pulling and stretching on this new sensation–
Fwoomph!
A great, big, black set of wings suddenly sprouted from Issei's mid back, almost knocking down a nearby lamp. He almost jumped straight through the ceiling in shock.
"W-w-what the hell are these!? What is this!?" Issei squawked, wings twitching involuntarily to the slightest movement.
Lee… gave a tired sighed, and there was a faint glint of familiarity in his eyes, "Red Pill or Blue Pill?"
W-wha–
"C'mon, you must've seen Matrices before, Red Pill or Blue Pill?" Lee repeated.
"R-red pill…"
Lee ripped off the bandaid, "Basically, all things supernatural are real. Angels, mages, gods of all pantheons, yokai, yo mama, and the birth certificate of Obama, all out there, wandering about the world, all waiting to fuck-eat-kill you to death and undeath."
He waved his hands; suddenly confetti rained from the ceiling, appearing out of thin air, "Congratulations, Issei, you died a horrible death and came back better and stronger – as a devil. Just like one of them Isekai light novels, or whatever, but still here on boring ol' Earth."
He snapped his fingers, the confetti was gone, but Issei's mind was still left reeling.
What!? How?... This… This has to be a dream – It has to be!
Hesitantly, he pinched himself. Ringing pain came from his own cheek.
Ow! Damn, that hurt… what about…
He brushed his hand against his own wing. It was cool, leathery to the touch, and most frightening of all, he could feel his own hand. It was real, not some sort of prop or gimmick.
Wait…
A faint tingle of horror tingled down Issei's spine, "Does that mean…" A phantom pain pierced his once punctured heart, "...That this– that wasn't a dream? My date with Yuuma-chan actually happened?"
"I suppose so… I don' know about no date or anything, but I did find ya in the woods with a big ol' spear sticking out of yer chest." Lee cracked his knuckles and leaned back into the couch, "By the way – what did this Yuuma-chan person look like? Black hair? Wings?"
Issei's eyes widened, "Yeah – like that!" His mind wandered back to the previous night… How friendly she was… How she suddenly tried to kill him… How tight that lingerie–
"Well…" Lee sighed through his teeth, making a hissing sound, "... I don't think a second date's in the cards for ya anymore. Not if my friend has anything to say about it."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, if she is who I think she is… She ain't gonna be living next time we run into her. We believe she followed you through and tried to finish the job, but, she only managed to destroy my friend's truck…" He pursed his lips, "He's a tad bit pissed, you see…"
"Oh…"
"Dunno why you're so attached to her," Lee shrugged, "She did try to rip yer guts out after all…"
But still… "She was… She was the first girl who ever bothered to go out with me…" And she had some nice– Not now, brain!... Issei sighed, "And… even if it was all fake, that still kinda meant something to me… I think?"
"Oh…" Lee nodded, giving a sympathetic look, "I think I get it now… But, If I could give ya some unsolicited advice – love, especially young dumb romantic love, while nice to have and experience, shouldn't be the end all be all of your life. There's so many things out there in the world: your friends, your family, new experiences… surely those are worth more than mindless hedonism, and a dumb broad who cuts yer dick of after the first date."
Before Issei could could butt in, spreading the gospel of the Great Mammary to his unenlightened captor, "–And yes, I know how hypocritical it sounds coming out coming from a spawn of Satan like myself – the seven deadly sins and temptation bein' my job description n' all." He gave a light chuckle.
Issei thought back, his one brain cell working overtime in his reflection. He looked back to his… er… excursions with Matsuda and Motohama at Kuoh. Did he really enjoy seeing naked ladies, as much as he loved hanging out with his friends. Sure, oppai certainly was the greatest part of God's green Ear–
OW! He flinched at the sudden stabbing pain in his temple – Where the hell did that come from!?
…The point was, now that he'd thought about it, there was more to life than just women (And damn, did he feel like he was betraying his very soul just thinking that). And Mom and Dad too, they've always been there for him–
Oh shit!
"Wait! How am I gonna get back?" Issei blurted at plaid speed, "I have school Monday – And my parents are expecting me – and my-!" He patted his pants to find that something was missing from his pocket. His heart sank, his throat burned, and the ocean thumped his ears.
Lee snapped his fingers, and a broken iPhone 4 appeared in his hand, "And your phone's broken, I've checked." He gently placed it onto the nightstand, "Now look at me and [calm down]. Take a deep breath, and relax."
Then, a few seconds passed and it felt like the whole world was lifted off his shoulders. It happened so fast, he couldn't even process that he was panicking a half-second ago. He kept his rapt attention to the devil on the couch.
"Good… You're back on Earth." Lee cleared his throat, "Now… You have a passport?"
Issei shook his head.
"Hmm… guess yer gonna have to avoid those fine folks at ICE then. You know your parents' number, right?"
Meekly, he nodded.
Who didn't know their parent's number? He may have been stupid, but he wasn't that stupid, thank you very much!
"Good, good-good! 'Cause a landline was installed in this rusty lil' trailer a few decades back, and it still works… most of the time," That fact only provided minimal relief to Issei's worries, "But don't take too long! The damn phone companies charge me out the ass for international."
"R-right!"
"And I…" Lee pushed himself off the couch, the ice pack dropping onto the floor, "...think that's it for now."
A faint breeze came in from the window, wafting in the smell of… hot dogs and burgers…
Grrrrr….
There was a massive void in his stomach, he was absolutely starving right now! He hadn't eaten in forever! A little bit of drool leaked out from the corner of Issei's lip.
"Ah, look's like yer hungry too. Right on time for supper!" Lee walked towards the door, "Come on – It's 'bout time you met the others."
Issei didn't hesitate, leaping off the bed with renewed vigor.
After a great, long search of a whole few seconds, Lee found where the extra folding chairs – all two of them – were and picked both of them up… At the same time, like a real man.
With mere waves of his hand, in the most useless demonstration possible of his supernatural strength and dexterity, he one-handedly unfolded each chair and slid them under the table like un-bowling ball shaped bowling balls. The classy furnishings of this heavenly hovelish home spoke volumes of their distance from civilized civilization:
The bare metal chairs that made one's rear ache so wonderfully.
The white plastic foldable table from every barbeque under the sun, yet somehow enclosed by walls and a roof instead of its natural habitat under a tent or next to a grill.
The tasteful decor from high-end places such as Dollar General, or… maybe even Walmart. (How Aristocratic!)
Even the tablecloth, repurposed from its original calling as a shower curtain. This place certainly had it all! And to complete this pleasing sight, as the cherry of cherries on top, a steaming saucepan full of des macaronis au fromage rested upon an aged washcloth.
Lee enthusiastically pulled out a chair from the end, "After you,"
Nervously, the boy named Issei accepted the gesture, placing his rear onto the cool welded cathedra. Lee happily took the other end, ignoring the grating bouncing from the boy's boot banging benignly on the floor below.
Bang!
The door crashed into a cabinet as it was thrown open, carrying a pleasurable waft of what's to come. Cletus stormed in, a man possessed as he balanced paper plates of burger patties, hot dogs, and buns. He slammed each onto the table in his mission, making Issei flinch as if he were stunned in the gluteus maximus.
"Huh… look's like were eatin' good tonight," Lee hummed, giving a proud thumbs up "Good job, Cletus."
Cletus was so frantic in his movements that he was indisposed to speaking. But the look he returned, Lee thought, most certainly was a – You're very much welcome, and you're the greatest devil to ever live! – as he disappeared off to the pantry.
Truly, Cletus was a wise soul, especially in the art of peasant cookery; he made miracles of minimally-priced ingredients from marginal markets – a miraculous maestro!
What more could Lee say? It was almost enough to make him ignore Cletus' many, many flaws, and even some of his own (Though, the narrator admits, the latter wasn't surprising, considering the contents of this tale's main character's character).
Enough of that, you're ruining my moment here…
Narcissistic bastard.
"Did you hear that?" Issei turned to Lee.
Oh, not you too!
"You get used to it."
"Oh…"
As if to save what little remnants remained of the reader's suspension of disbelief with the narrative, Cletus quickly returned with the condiments, taking his seat near Lee. At the same time, more intrepid fellows made their presence known at the doorway.
"Oh, nice, Cletus's cooking!" The latino cheered.
A large lug of a man, who looked older than his mere 18 years on this Earth, followed through after, with a deep sadness in his eyes. Sometimes, it was hard to heal a hole in a heart that huge, especially if the hole was truck-nuts pickup sized.
As they both took their places on the table, they set on top what they had brought; for Mercedes, it was a 0.53 gallon bottle of Mountain Dew Throwback (because Satan damn those commies who made the so-called metric system, pathetic fools), and for Billy-Joel, he brought a glass jug of their neighbor, Old Man Higgin's moonshine.
With a dinner prayer unnecessary, everyone started to help themselves with the food and drink – each taking a burger and a few hot dogs. The majority of the table almost mixed the 'shine in with the 'dew in their red frat-party plastic cups, with the exception of Issei, who wisely chose to just stick with the carbonated diabetes.
"Alright, alright…" Everyone's eyes turned to Lee as he tapped a spoon against the plastic cup, making a slight crunching sound instead of a ring, "... You know, I had this whole dramatic introduction planned n' all… but I'm hungry and I wanna get this shit over with – Wings out!"
Fwoosh!
With that command, the whole room erupted in a flurry of dust from a gust as black leathery wings appeared on every man on the table; even Issei joined with the program, albeit on an accidental reaction.
"First!" Lee pointed to Cletus, "This lovely gentleman here is the co-owner of this lovely habitation, and soon-to-be your roommate, Cletus Orion Green."
"Howdy!" Cletus gave a bright, shining smile and a thumbs up.
"Uh… Hi," Issei demurely waved back.
"More importantly, though," Lee followed, "He is my Queen."
Issei did a double take, "Wait, what? Queen?"
"Yeah, like a queen piece…" Lee unhelpfully added…
Issei looked back and forth between Lee and Cletus, baffled and befuddled, before boring down back onto Lee with questions unanswered.
"Uh… I don't know what to say man, but… I'm pretty sure he's a dude."
"..." Cletus gave Lee a look.
Then it finally hit him.
"Ah, Horseshit!" Lee facepalmed, "I knew I was forgettin' something!"
With a snap of his fingers, a glowing red chess piece appeared mid-air, floating right in front of Cletus' chest. Lee telepathically moved it over the table, right near where Issei sat. Issei reeled back in surprise.
"So basically, This is an evil piece, and it is how I reincarnated your sorry ass after you got fucked by that fallen angel, not in the fun way – pardon my French." Lee twirled his finger, making the piece spin in mid-air, showing all of its sides, "It is part of a full set, and each type has a different set of abilities – matching to what that piece is in the game of chess… You know what chess is, right?"
"Uh, yeah!" Issei nodded. To reiterate, he may have been ignorant of the world, but he wasn't that ignorant.
"Good," Lee pulled the piece back, towards the center of the table "'Cause you're gonna be seeing a lot of chess metaphors. The guy who designed the damned is a huge chess fetishist–"
"Chest fetishist? Sounds like my kinda guy…" Issei muttered, thinking nobody would hear.
"–smarmy intellectual-type with a hard-on for esoteric designs, so you along with the rest of this lot have to deal with his wack-ass design choices." Lee sighed, "Now, that piece floatin' right over there – that is the queen piece, and it's what give ol' Cleats here all sorts of fancy abilities. Basically, what everyone else sitting here can do, he can do too. This also makes him my second-in-command, so when I'm not 'round, he's the man in charge. Got it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Don't call me sir, I work for a livin'," Lee japed. He snapped his fingers again, and a bishop pieces joined the queen piece floating above, "Next, is our bishop, Mercedes María Antonio Manuel Schrader-Vasquez, or just Mercedes for short. This piece helps with magic n' shit, and fitting that, he's our resident wizard. If you need healing or found something that should have been burned in hellfire yesterday, he's your guy. Say hi, amigo!"
"Nice to meet you," The wizard himself tipped a nonexistent hat.
"Nice to meet you too," Issei bowed out of habit.
"Also, fun fact" Lee smirked, "according to your average coastal liberal, he's the most oppressed of us all. So be prepared to pay some reparations–"
"Oh, shut the fuck up, Lee…" Mercedes shook his head, a grin breaking out.
"Up yours, too, Hombre," Lee let out a short chuckle.
Issei tilted his head like a lost puppy, and the two got their humor back under control.
"Right…" A rook piece appeared, flying up to join its compatriots, "That big dumb lug right there is Billy-Joel Robertson – our Rook. The piece makes him both an immovable object and an unstoppable force. If ya want someone beaten black and blue, he'll be there, chewing ass and kicking names."
Billy-Joel gave a stoic wave, looking far more intimidating than his goofy-goober ass had any right to be. Issei shivered in place and shrunk back, trying not to attract the rook's gaze any longer than he had to.
"Oh, no. Don't worry," Lee assured, "He's a big ol' teddy bear – harmless! Ain't that right, Blowjob?"
"Uh… yeah!" He slurred
"Blowjob?" Issei questioned.
"Long story…" Lee waved him off.
"Okay then…" Issei squinted, "So… what does that make me?"
"Well I'm glad you asked!" Lee boisterously cheered.
Eight pawn pieces, all in a row, flew right out of Issei's chest and orbited the others in an octagonal ring. Issei looked on in fascination, feeling a deep connection to them deep down.
"You, my good sir, are a pawn, and a very powerful one at that." With a wave, Lee dismissed the other pieces, leaving Issei's behind "The fact that I had to use eight of dem fuckers to save yer ass means that there must be some dormant power in there somewhere…"
"Whoa…" Issei gaped at that revelation.
Lee hoped the poor boy didn't get it in his head that he was the chosen one or whatever; no guarantees about plot armor could be made now that he was under Lee's wise tutelage.
"...Does that mean – wait, what do pawns even do?" Issei stumbled over his own words.
"Well, t'put it simply… In enemy territory, I could promote you to any other piece temporarily. Otherwise, yer just a regular ol' run-of-the-mill devil."
"Oh… okay…" There was a slight disappointment in Issei's eyes, but the utility of the pawn was impressed upon him.
Lee took a deep breath… and raided his finger.
There was always the inevitable… "But… with all this, there's a catch…"
"C…Catch?" Issei asked, not liking the insinuation.
"Promise not to freak out?"
Issei's eyes darkened… and he gave a nervous go ahead to Lee,
"Technicallyyyy…. And this is a huge technically, by the way…" Lee stalled, "...You're kinda my slave now."
"What!?" Issei jumped up bug-eyed, almost knocking the table over.
"But!" Lee cut in forcefully, stopping Issei mid panic. The boy froze in place, awaiting Lee's next words with rapt attention, "I won't treat you as one, ever. I'm a Satan-fearing American, and by golly, I will not tread on another man's liberty, even if the whole evil piece system is designed 'round dark age ideals…"
Lee looked into Issei's eyes, dead serious, a gesture that served to reassure him, "I promise you this, Issei, I will not lord my authority over you unless either the situation is that dire, or you break my 3 rules – Which are One, Keep it down-low around the muggles, Two, Don't attack your fellow peerage members outside of a spar, and Three, Stay the fuck away from Churches. Tell me if ya understand?"
Issei nodded up and down fiercely.
"With words, please."
"Yes, mast–"
"Don't massa me, Mister!" He corrected, "I'm Lee to you, nothin' more…"
"Right… Lee,"
"Fantastic! And I think that wraps it up for today – food's gettin' cold." Lee raised his glass, "Now, to the newest member of our fucked up little cult – Issei Hyoudou!"
Everyone at the table raised their cups too, including Issei once he realized what was going on, and tapped them together against Lee's own. Cletus, Mercedes, and Billy-Joel downed their drinks right afterwards.
Lee smiled at the boy, who finally started to relax slightly, "Welcome to the family…" Before taking his cup of Dewshine in one big gulp.
Burning gently traveled down his throat, and through this magical substance, all sorts of possibilities were unlocked in the mind without those pesky inhibitions. Didn't the Romans say In Vino Veritas?
And right then and there, the truth was telling Lee that Issei desperately needed a training arc, pronto.
AN: Thank you very much for reading, see ya next chapter!