As far as seedy bars in seedier neighborhoods went, Bar/None was actually comparatively nice. Not good; cigarette smoke infested every corner of the room with its smell and stained the walls, the pool table had half its cover torn off and two of its balls were missing, and the floor was always sticky. But the booze was cheap, and the bartender kept the peace, and if you tipped him well enough he'd always top off your glass, so Stan kept coming back to the place. It was a good place to sit back, down a few drinks, and wait for prospective clients to come to him.

One such prospective client entered the bar at that very moment. Stan knew from the instant the client walked in that they were looking for him. This was mainly because the client was bright red, had lithe, inhuman proportions, and no one in the bar apart from Stan seemed to notice them. On the contrary, the bartender muttered "Is the damn door broken again?" and walked over to the entrance to investigate, passing by the client without so much as a second glance.

Stan highly doubted a Stand would enter a bar for the purpose of getting drunk.

Stan took a long drink from his mug, before laying a few bills on top of the bar and exiting out the back. The red Stand followed Stan out. The night was dark, the moon and stars covered by a cloud layer, but the harsh street lights illuminated the empty lot where Stan and the red Stand now stood.

The red Stand reached into a red messenger bag that it seemed to carry. Looking closer Stan realized the messenger bag was actually part of the Stand, its shoulder strap seamlessly fused to the Stand's shoulder. It pulled out a tan envelope, then reached in again and pulled out a briefcase.

"You know," said Stan. "I've received plenty of missions before, but I have never had someone send their Stand in to deliver it. Are you one of those talking ones?"

The red Stand handed him the envelope, before saying in a clipped, eloquent accent, "Two targets. Both Stand users. Highly dangerous. Get them dead or alive. The envelope contains more details on the -" suddenly its accent changed, becoming a flawless mimic of Stan's voice, "- missions."

Of course they were both Stand users. Why wouldn't they be? If you wanted regular enemies taken out, you would hire a regular bounty hunter or hitman. When you want enemy Stand users taken out, that's when you hire Stan. As he opened the envelope, he noticed that both of the targets were teenagers. Not that that mattered; Stan knew from experience that child Stand users could be just as dangerous as adult Stand users, if not more so.

He cleared his throat. "There is, of course, the issue of compensation." On cue, the Stand opened its briefcase, revealing several large stacks of crisp bills. It was like something out of a movie, that much money all together in one place. It even seemed to shine a little. Stan cleared his throat again. "Now, I do require an advance payment as well."

The Stand snapped the case shut. "This is the advance," it said, its voice having gone back to the flawlessly clipped accent. It then handed the briefcase to Stan. "The actual payment will be twice as much. Do you accept?"

Stan felt the briefcase in his hands. It was considerably heavy. He cleared his throat one more time. "Give me a few days," he said. "I'll see what I can do."

Joshua was walking home from school, his gait a bit less active than usual. Today had been a hard day for him. He had gotten his exam results back, and while he didn't fail, his score was not what his mother would be expecting. He could see a lecture about responsibility and an increase of closely monitored study time in his future. He didn't mean to slack off on the test, but…

Well, it's difficult to concentrate on chemistry once you've become embroiled in a fight against a secret global organization of people with crazy psychic abilities, isn't it?

It had been about a week since Joshua had received his Stand. Over the week, he had continued to train with Daniel and Hiram. While he hadn't landed a blow on Daniel or Sabaton since their initial fight, he was getting better at defending against the teleporting Stand's attacks. Just as Hiram had said, Joshua had gotten much better at summoning and using Imagine Dragons. It felt almost automatic to him at this point.

Joshua was snapped out of his recollections when he heard a familiar voice greeting him. Turning back, he saw Daniel run up to his side with a large grin. He was still wearing the same black and gold tracksuit he always wore; Joshua had become convinced that his closet contained nothing but multiple copies of that tracksuit. "Hey Joshua! How's it going? Did you get the result of that chem test back?" Joshua only nodded, knowing by now that Daniel was going to continue to talk until he had nothing left to say.

Sure enough, "Yeah, that test was a real bitch. I did pretty well though, if I do say so myself." Daniel stepped in front of Joshua, turned around, and, still walking backwards, held up the exam for Joshua to see. Joshua blinked. The exam was a mess of red marks: Daniel had done worse than Joshua.

"Yeah, I know," Daniel said as he crumpled up the exam and stuffed it in his pocket. "Don't worry about me. I always just cram my butt off in the last two weeks of the quarter, and then all my grades just kind of even out."

"Has there been anything new about the Cobalt Order?" Joshua said, wanting to change the subject. There had been no sign of the Order over the week. The building that Joshua had been taken, which had turned out to be a foreclosed hospital, had been completely empty when Daniel went to investigate it.

Daniel scratched his head. "Nope. It's strange, because you'd think that they'd come out full force now that we've stolen their weapon. Still, Hiram says we should lay low and wait for them to come to us." Suddenly, he stopped. Joshua had to quickly stop as well to avoid crashing into him. "Speaking of," Daniel said, looking toward the small woods that stood between the sidewalk and the suburbs. "Stop watching us and come on out!" he shouted to the trees. "There's no point in hiding any longer!"

Joshua didn't know how such a large man could conceal himself so effectively. The man wore black and green combat fatigues, but its sleeves were cut off, exposing the man's heavily muscled arms. Golden armbands glinted in the afternoon light. The man's hair was short and curly, and his beard was black and thick. His eyes were dark, and his face was expressionless.

"You're observant," the man said. "Thanks," Daniel replied, "I have experience dealing with goons like you."

At this, the bronze-skinned man smiled, any and all darkness vanishing from his face. "Well said, boy! To give such a harsh reply, you must have great courage! I expect your Stand is no pushover either, hmm?" He had an accent, though Joshua couldn't quite place where it was from.

The man knew about Stands. More importantly, the man knew Joshua and Daniel were Stand users. Joshua had a sinking feeling that this encounter wasn't going to end well. Daniel appeared to think so as well, as Sabaton manifested itself beside him.

"Ah, getting right to it, then? I admire your directness," the man said. "Very well! But, before we begin, out of courtesy for you, let me tell you some things about myself."

"My name is Constantine Istanbul, though just Stan is fine. I am a Stand hunter, and I have received a particularly lucrative offer to track down and defeat the two of you. Now, the terms of the offer say I can turn you in dead or alive; however, I do not like to have unnecessary blood on my hands, and as such, I will do my best to not kill you during our fight. That said, if you would be so kind as to surrender now, I believe it would make all of our lives easier."

As if in response, Sabaton's hands clenched into fists. "Daniel," Joshua said, bringing out Imagine Dragons, "Let's take this guy out together, right?" "Of course," Daniel said. "Quickly and easily. This goon doesn't stand a chance against us!"

Stan sighed, smiling like a parent whose child, in an act of defiance, had done something foolish but ultimately harmless. "Fair enough. I don't mind doing things the hard way either." The dark glint returned to his eyes. "Now, come at me with full strength! [Birdhouse in Your Soul]!"

-To Be Continued- What's in Your Soul (Act 2)