A huge thank you to all of you who review and follow/favorite this story. You have no idea how much that motives me to keep writing.

Also, Legend Killer would not be nearly as polished without the patience and efforts of Kiss 316, who is the Beta reader supreme. You rock!

Legend Killer 17

Sika and Afa Anoa'i had come to America together when they were children. They crossed the wide Pacific Ocean with their parents and siblings, landing in California. Although they liked California both were adventurous and longed to see more of their new country. As soon as they were old enough they left their home and family, wandering east across the country, crossing deserts, plains and mountain ranges. They learned to shoot and ride, getting hired on as ranch hands for a season or two before they moved on. They always watched each other's backs. Both agreed that neither one of them liked the cold climate of the north, the bitter winds howled across the prairie as they huddled around a small campfire during a cattle drive so they headed south to the Gulf Coast. Eventually they settled down in Florida and started a small ranch of their own. They found wives. Sika fathered two children Roman and Matthew. Afa's wife had twin boys, Jimmy and Jay. The Anoa'i brothers houses were on opposite sides of the ranch but their children were always together, frequently staying over at each other's place rather than going home when it got dark.

When Roman was eight years old, he was staying over at Afa's for the night. Matthew had been confined to his bed after an unfortunate run-in with a snake, but he was recovering. Roman had been playing with his cousins and they had lost track of time. The boys' favorite game was pretending to be US Marshal Dwayne Johnson, whose exploits made him a hero in the boys' eyes. They would fight over who got to be the Marshal and who had to be the bad guys. Afa had found them in the barn, Jimmy had brought Roman and Jay to justice and was going to hang them for their crimes. Putting a stop to that, Afa herded them inside for dinner and bed. Late that night a powerful thunderstorm tore through the area. The loud cracks of thunder shook the house. Roman, Jimmy and Jay huddled together in terror and delight as they listened to the wind howl. Afa and the twin's mother were awake and watchful, but the boys eventually fell back to sleep in a puppy pile. The storm faded to the east as the sun rose, thunder snarling like a wounded beast. As the Anoa'i family emerged from the house, the boys still rubbing sleep from their eyes, they got their first real look at the damage in the dawn's gloom. The thick air smelled of rain and mud. Afa's house and barn had been heavily damaged by the gusting winds and hail, but miraculously they lost no livestock. The hay fields had been flattened but it was still early enough in the season for a second cutting. They should have been relieved and happy. The damage could have easily been much, much worse.

But as he looked at the twisted barn, Roman felt like the storm was still coming. The uneasy feeling refused to leave him. He was too hot and it felt like he had snake in his stomach.

As soon as Afa reassured himself that his family wasn't in danger, he saddled up his riding horse to go check on his brother Sika and his family. Worried, Roman asked if he could go with him. Afa hesitated, then shook his head and told him no. Roman needed to help Jimmy and Jay start chores and get to fixing the fences before the cattle got out.

As the morning dragged on, Roman was feeling almost sick to his stomach. Jimmy and Jay tried distract him but the feeling refused to leave. He wasn't much help to his cousins as they did their chores, but they didn't give him a hard time about it. Finally, in the early afternoon, Afa returned. Roman and his cousins were inside the house with the twins' mother. Jimmy and Jay were eating lunch but Roman was just pushing his food around his plate when they heard the hoofbeats. Leaving their food they raced outside. Afa had aged ten years while he was gone those few hours. Grimly Afa delivered the news. Sika's homestead had been destroyed completely. A tornado had barreled right over the house, scattering it and most of their barn over an area of at least a mile. Roman's mother and father were dead in the remains of the house. Roman never knew that Sika was still alive when Afa had found him, impaled through the stomach with a piece of wood. Or that he died in Afa's arms when he tried to remove the wood. Matthew was found a half a mile from the house. Every bone in his body had been broken.

When Afa told his family what had happened, Roman didn't feel surprise. Part of him had already known that his family was gone. He asked his uncle later why that was, as they stood next to the mounds of dirt that covered his family.

"When something happens to someone you love, like family, you always know," Afa answered sadly.

Despite having neighbors that offered to help, the family took care of its own. Afa's wife cleaned the bodies while Afa made the caskets and the boys dug the graves. Roman remembered the sun glaring down from overhead while he and his cousins dug into the mud to make graves big enough for his father, mother and brother. There were blisters on his hands when they finally finished.

After that, Roman lived with Afa's family. As he got older into his teenage years, Roman decided chasing cows around wasn't for him and set out on his own. He had saved enough money for a train ticket and traveled to California where the majority of his father's extensive family still lived. While he was there he explored the area, seeing the places where his father and uncle had wandered. He once again heard stories about Dwayne Johnson. He decided to become a US Marshal. Changing his name to Roman Reigns, he applied in the Montana territory. Judge Hunter had taken one look at Roman and immediately hired him on. Roman never forgot the pride he had felt when the judge had pinned the Deputy Marshal badge on his chest.

But when he woke up years later on an early Montana afternoon the feeling he remembered was the one he felt right before he learned his family's fate from Afa, the stomach-clenching unease that something terrible had happened while he was asleep. That something precious had been lost. Drawing a breath, hating the pain deep in his chest, he decided he was done resting. He grunted as he rolled onto his side, gaining enough leverage to sit up. Move, you stupid fucking body, he raged at himself. Black spots burst in front if his eyes and he couldn't seem to get enough air past the pain in his chest. But he didn't let that stop him from trying.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mark asked from across the dead campfire where he was reading a book. His coat was off and shirtsleeves were rolled up. He made no move to get up and help.

"I have to go back," was all Roman could say before he was robbed of breath by the deep pain shooting near his heart. He shook his head weakly to clear it but that didn't work. So he gritted his teeth and forced himself to sit up and breathe through the pain. After a while it subsided enough for him to open his eyes. He saw Mark watching, expressionless. "What?" he snapped in annoyance, mostly at himself. Something had happened and he was sitting here being useless.

"How far do you think you'll get before you fall over?" Mark asked, his tone dry as dust.

"Not gonna fall over," Roman insisted, even as he listed to one side and he had to put a hand down to stop himself from falling over. Unfazed, he forced his body to sit up straight. It was a minor victory. Seriously, it was ridiculous how weak he was.

Evidently, Mark wasn't fooled in the slightest by Roman's show of bravado. He scoffed. "It's only been a day since you were shot. Even if you have the Saint's strength, your body is still dealing with the shock. What could you do if you go back besides bleed on their shoes when you pass out at their feet?"

"Something happened either to Seth or Dean. I have to go," Roman insisted. He looked over the where his black horse was grazing next to Mark's pale mare. He tried to gauge how much strength it would take to get over there and mount up. He would need Mark to saddle the horse though. Riding bareback was out of the question.

"If it already happened, then there is nothing you can do about it. So why do you need go?" Mark asked reasonably.

But Roman glared at Mark. "Because they are my brothers and something happened to one of them," he insisted. He didn't want to consider what Dean would do if something happened to Seth and vice versa. The hot feeling in his stomach intensified.

"Even if you make it over to your horse, somehow get on it and then by a miracle manage to get to Helena, the Beast will kill you before you set foot in town."

Tired of hearing that he wasn't going to make it and although he didn't really having a good answer for all the points Mark brought up, Roman decided he was done talking. If Mark wasn't going to help him…he stubbornly dragged one knee under his body, then the other. Fuck!

Mark studied Roman and saw the implacable determination on the young man's face. Sighing, he stood up. "Kid, you really are a stubborn idiot." He walked over to Roman and held out his hand. Roman reached up and grabbed the offered hand, using it to lever himself to his feet. The ground promptly tried to slide out from underneath him but Mark caught him with an arm around the waist. Size-wise, Mark was bigger than Roman and held him easily. "For fuck's sake," Mark growled as he maneuvered Roman's sagging body to the nearby wagon, dumping him unceremoniously onto the back tailgate. "Stay here," he ordered.

"Not going anywhere," Roman assured him, shaking with weakness. "And don't call me kid." Even though he knew now that the Saint of Killers was not Mark, the similarities were still there. Chasing that thought in a new direction, Roman watched Mark catch his mare and throw the harness over her back, fastening the buckles. "You never told me where you're from," he realized.

"You never asked."

"So, now I'm asking," Roman said, wishing he didn't sound so damned weak.

"Kid, why does it matter?" Mark asked in return. He didn't sound defensive or angry, just curious.

"You've done a lot for me, and for Dean and Seth. You covered for Randy when he was hurt. Yet we don't know anything about you."

There was a long pause as the big man slipped the bridle over the mare's head. "California," Mark finally answered.

That got Roman's attention. "Really? I've got family there. Where in Cali?" He had to keep his questions short, due to his breathing issues.

"The south east," Mark replied.

Roman was very careful not to react to that. "Nothing there but mountains and deserts," he observed trying to stay casual. Mark didn't reply. He just led the mare over and hitched her to the wagon. Roman watched as Mark saddled Roman's gelding and tied to the wagon. If Mark didn't want Roman to know more about him and his past, Roman wasn't going to bring it up. But with that tiny piece of information, Roman's suspicions about Mark grew.

Climbing into the wagon, Mark turned around, giving Roman a measuring look with his pale eyes. "You ready for this kid?' It's going to hurt. A lot."

"Just get going," Roman said, bracing his body for the stabbing pain he knew he was going to have to deal with when the wagon started moving. His thoughts returned to his brothers. He prayed that whatever happened he could get there in time. Then they would deal with what happened.

Together.

…

As he lay on the ground with hot blood pulsing out of his shoulder, and his cracked ribs grinding together every time he took a breath, Dean swore in rage and frustration. The stiff grasses prickled under his cheek. Owens' boot remained planted in the middle of his back, keeping him pinned to the ground like a bug. But what was infuriating to Dean the most was that he could feel Balor getting nearer and he was helpless. He tried calling out to the Saint, but there was still no response.

"You know this Balor guy is a demon right?" he gasped up at Owens.

With the same bored tone he used before the fight, Owens shrugged. "Ask me if I care."

Dean was about to respond with a biting sarcastic comment about Owens' mother, when they heard the hoofbeats of horses trotting through the trees.

"About time," Owens grumbled, stepping back away from Dean who raised his head off the ground to see the monster who had come for him. Balor rode into view on a bright chestnut horse. He was, for lack of a better word, a disappointment in Dean's eyes. He was a good looking but physically unimpressive young man. From the horrible feeling he was getting from the demon, Dean had been expecting long fangs and maybe a single eye. That would have been impressive. But even thought he could feel the demon, Dean couldn't see it and that was unusual. Riding beside him on a gray mustang was a serious-looking Asian man who Dean knew instantly was not a demon, so Dean ignored him for the time being. He rose to his hands and knees, blood running down his arm. He glared up at Balor defiantly.

Pulling his horse to a stop, Balor dismounted and looked down at Dean. "Dean Ambrose? I'm Finn Balor. This is Hideo Itami," he said with no preamble. The demon had a thick Irish accent.

Dean didn't reply, he just kept glaring. Mentally, he called out to the Saint again, hoping this time he would be heard. There still was no reply. Frustrated, Dean realized he was truly on his own. Then, fine, fuck him. I don't need you anyway old man!

Frowning, Hideo dismounted and looked at Dean closely. He spoke to Dean in a foreign language like he expected Dean to understand him, then seeing Dean's blank expression he turned back to Balor and shook his head.

Pointing at Sheamus' corpse, Balor asked, "But what about him?"

Hideo walked over to inspect Sheamus' corpse. He turned the body over and crouched down holding a hand out, not quite touching the face. He turned and said something to Balor in that language Dean didn't recognize. Balor's eyebrows rose. "An angel?" he asked.

Shaking his head, Hideo said something else and Balor shrugged.

"For fuck's sake, what's he saying?" Owens asked impatiently, holstering his gun. Now that Balor was here, his part of the job was done.

"Itami thinks he may have been touched by an angel, but he wasn't possessed by one" Balor said with a scowl. "He was killed by a regular gun."

Dean didn't ask, but Kevin did. "Yeah, what the fuck was that all about? He was going on and on about angels protecting him. Then Ambrose just pulls on him and puts him down. Guess he was mistaken."

"The human believed he couldn't be killed because the angel told him his is protected. Angels are arrogant assholes and are not above lying to gullible humans to get them to their dirty work," Balor sneered. "They don't like to get their hands dirty."

A bit bemused that the demon hadn't immediately started torturing him, Dean sat back on his heels, one hand pressed over the bullet wound in his shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers. He wasn't sure what Balor wanted with him. This demon didn't seem as intent on Dean's destruction as the others he'd met. He looked around for his guns, reaching for the one nearby and hissing with pain caused by the movement.

Seeing Dean wince, Hideo left Sheamus' corpse and walked back over to him. He crouched next to Dean and tentatively put a hand out to Dean's wounded shoulder. Dean jerked away with a glare, raising the gun he picked and pointing it in Hideo's face. Hideo sat back and gestured to the wound, still speaking in that same foreign language. Dean was tempted to shoot him to shut him up.

Clearly unhappy that Dean was threatening Hideo, Balor started to step forward, but Hideo waved him off. "He says that the bullet must come out before it gets infected," Balor translated to Dean. "You should let him take it out. He's very good. I promise you won't feel a thing."

"Fuck off," Dean warned. After the morning he had so far, including not having any coffee yet, Dean wasn't inclined to entertain anything besides total destruction of anyone who got near him that wasn't named Seth or Roman.

Apparently Hideo understood Dean's answer because he nodded and backed off.

"What do you want with me Balor?" Dean demanded. "If you're going to torture me, just get on with it. I promise you won't get any enjoyment out of it."

"We're not going to torture you," Balor looked appalled but Dean wasn't buying it.

"Your pal Owens said Hunter paid him to catch me and then give me over to you. I can't imagine it was because he wanted you to give me flowers," Dean said, sarcasm dripping like venom.

"No, it's not like that," Balor said, "We only went to Judge Hunter because he knew where you were and when he saw that I'm a demon, he was very willing to make a deal."

"Why would Hunter pay Owens to hand me over to you?" Dean asked, still holding the gun in Hideo's general direction. Balor didn't like that, but Dean didn't care. If threatening Hideo kept Balor away, he would keep doing it until he found out what the fuck was going on.

"Well, we may have given him the impression that I wanted to eat your soul," Balor shrugged.

Truly pissed off now Dean said, "Don't think for one fucking second you're actually going to eat my soul."

Balor raised his hands placating. "I know that, but Hunter doesn't. We just needed a way to get to you without Hunter interfering. He really hates you Ambrose. He wants your death to be as messy as possible, especially since you killed Marshal Batista. And because I'm a demon, he thought all I wanted was to torture and kill you." The wind rustled the trees around them, but no birds sang in the demon's vicinity.

"Well if you're not going to eat my soul, what do you want? I've got better things to do than talk to you," Dean snarked. Owens had been watching quietly, but with amusement. Dean wanted to punch his face again, just on principle.

"We need a favor," Balor said, exchanging looks with Hideo.

That was not what Dean was expecting. "I don't do favors for demons," he said as he staggered to his feet, white with pain from the bullet still in his shoulder but that was news from a distant country. The only thing that mattered was finding Seth.

"I'm not fully a demon in case you haven't noticed," Balor said, sounding a bit defensive.

"Okay, then I don't do favors for half demons either," Dean amended, but he holstered his gun and looked around for his horse and other gun. Hideo and Balor conversed again in that other language and Dean got the impression they really wanted something from him. Well fuck that. They abruptly stopped talking and faced Dean.

"We would like you to summon the Saint of Killers. We have to talk to him." Balor said.

Now that was a surprise. Usually demons wanted nothing to do with the Saint. They only wanted to kill his men so that Saint couldn't manifest and kill them. And the last thing Dean wanted Balor to know was that the Saint wasn't coming even if he did want to cooperate, which he didn't. "What about?" he asked, stalling.

"That's between us and the Saint," Balor said, firmly.

"Suit yourself. Maybe you should try Orton. You can bet he wouldn't ask questions," Dean suggested sarcastically. Randy would kill Balor before he got the chance to open his mouth. Besides, he didn't have time to waste recovering from the Colt Walkers even if the Saint did come and decided to dispatch Balor. He needed to rescue Seth.

Sharing a frustrated glance with Itami, Balor answered reluctantly. "Hunter sent the Beast after Orton and there is no way we're getting in the middle of that. But I will ask you nicely once more, because my friend here really believes in manners. Will you please call the Saint or am I going to have to get violent?"

Oh, wrong thing to say. Dean did not take kindly to threats. "Nexus already tried that. Ask them how well that worked for them. Oh wait, you can't. We've slaughtered them," Dean smirked. Truth be told, he hoped it wouldn't come to violence. Dean had been on the receiving end far too much lately, and even though he gave as good as he got, his body needed a break. Behind Balor, his horse whickered a greeting to Dean's, which stood off a ways away, reins trailing on the ground. It was too far for Dean to make a run for it. Besides, Dean didn't run from demons. It sounded like Balor and Itami had gone through a lot of trouble to get to Dean. Maybe he could use that. An idea occurred to him.

"But since you like to make deals, I'll make you one. I'll call the Saint," Dean said, and as Balor started to smile, he finished, "After you rescue my friend from Hunter."

Shocked, Balor and Hideo stared at him. Owens chuckled. "He's got balls if not brains, I'll give him that," he sniggered as he went to catch his and Dean's horses and led them over to where the others were. He scooped up Dean's other gun and handed it to Dean along with his horse's reins to him. He turned and put a foot in the stirrup of his mount's saddle, grunting a bit as he swung his weight over.

Mouth gaping, Balor stuttered for a second. "You want us to what?" he asked, baffled.

"You rescue my friend, and then I'll call the Saint," Dean said in a take-it-or-leave-it voice. "Otherwise I'm leaving." He gathered his reins and prepared to mount up.

Balor and Itami seemed to be carrying on an entire conversation with their eyes "Who do you want us to rescue?" Hideo asked slowly in thickly accented English.

Pausing Dean smirked to himself but he was straight faced when he turned back to Balor and Itami. "My friend Seth Rollins was just taken prisoner by Judge Hunter's goons. Rescue him and I'll summon the Saint. Maybe I'll even get him to wait long enough to talk to him before he kills your friend." Dean said, smirking.

"Summon the Saint first, then we'll help rescue your friend," Balor bargained, but Dean wasn't going to budge.

"Nope, that's not how this is going to work. You help me get my friend away from Hunter, alive and well, then I'll summon the Saint." Hopefully the Saint was over his hissy fit by then and would show up.

Balor looked like he wanted to have a fit himself, but Hideo spoke to him quickly, glancing at Dean every once in a while. Dean got the impression those two really were friends, which was weird considering Balor was a demon. Finally Balor heaved a sigh. "Fine," he grumbled. "We'll try to get your friend away from Hunter. Owens, you're helping us." He told the overweight man who was turning his horse to leave.

"Wait, what?" Owens asked, startled. He was done with the job he had been paid to do. "You want me to help rescue his friend from Hunter? Hate to break it to you pal, but I'm not going up against Hunter."

"We'll pay you," Balor said, already annoyed at having to make the deal with Dean.

Owens hesitated. "How much?" he asked reluctantly. His greed was clashing with his sense of self preservation. "If we're up against Hunter it will have to be at least double my usual fee."

"Don't worry, we'll pay you more than enough," Balor rolled his eyes. Itami started talking to Balor again who looked like he swallowed a lemon. After a minute or so, he heaved a heavy sigh and turned to Dean. "Okay you have yourself a deal. We'll get your friend away from Hunter. And then you summon the Saint of Killers," he told Dean. His gaze was skeptical as he took in Dean's physical condition. "Are you up for it?"

That was a good question. But Dean would never let a bullet wound or cracked ribs get in his way of getting Seth away from Hunter. He turned again to mount up when Itami stepped forward again. He gestured towards Dean's shoulder as he spoke. Clueless, Dean glanced over at Balor. "I have no idea what he's saying."

"Hideo was a warrior priest or something in Japan. He's offering to help you with your shoulder," Balor told him. For some reason the demon looked proud of this fact as he looked fondly over at the small young man.

Even though it would take more time than he wanted, Dean knew he wasn't going to last long with the bullet in his shoulder so he nodded to Hideo. The young Japanese man bowed briefly then gestured for Dean to sit, which he did with a grunt of pain. Hideo knelt in front of him and got to work on Dean's wound. Trying to get his mind off of what Hideo was doing, Dean asked Balor, "How did you know Hunter would know where I was?"

"It's no secret. As soon as Hunter learned you were here from his angel buddy Shawn Michaels, he put out a bounty on you." Balor said, watching Hideo with a soft smile. "There is at least one pair of demons in the area just salivating to get at you. You're lucky we got to you first." He looked vaguely sick. He'd met the Ascension. They had been tormenting Hideo for a while when he had first arrived in Japan. Finally, with Balor's unwilling help, Hideo and Finn had defeated the twin demons. But the Ascension had surfaced in Montana now, no doubt answering Hunter's call for demons to kill all the Saint's men.

Except for Orton of course. They had special order concerning him.

"But you don't act all demon-like." Dean winced as Hideo probed deep into his shoulder. "With the not torturing and killing me and everything."

When Balor smiled, he looked just like a normal young man. But looks were deceiving and Dean's skin still crawled at the feeling of the demon. "That's because I'm not truly possessed. The Japanese know much about demons and Hideo was my friend when Balor came along. When Balor started to possessed me, Hideo bound the demon before it could finish. I'm still me, but with a demon."

Dean didn't even try to understand what the hell Balor was talking about. He flinched and then Hideo was holding up the bloody bullet between his fingers. He held it out to Dean. "Uh, thanks," Dean said uncertainly. Hideo bound the hole with a strip of cloth and stood up, offering his hand to Dean to help him to his feet as well. When he let go of Hideo and tested his balance, Hideo bowed again.

"What about the other demons?" Kevin asked as he adjusted his seat on his stout brown gelding. "Who's going to take them on?"

Hideo spoke and for the first time Balor looked alarmed and Dean called him on it. "Don't tell me you're afraid of them," he taunted. "Aren't you demons all brothers or something?"

Balor glared at Dean. "No. I'm not afraid of the Ascension. But I'm also not an idiot. I'm as strong as Ascension but they have a nasty habit of ganging up." Hideo spoke to Balor again, gesturing at Balor's heart and then back to himself. Balor grabbed Hideo by his upper arms, looking like he wanted to shake the Japanese man but restrained. "No, Hideo. I mean it. You are not going to get close to the Ascension. I won't let you get hurt again."

Hideo apparently disagreed and both Dean and Owens watched them argue back and forth until Dean had enough. Time was wasting and Seth was getting further away. "If you two want to stay here and argue, be my guest but I'm going after my friend." he said. "And good luck getting someone else to call the Saint for you."

Those two glared at each other and Dean was reminded of Roman and himself in a way. His mouth tightened and he kicked the horse into a jog, not bothering to wait around for Itami and Balor to get their shit together. Owens fell in behind him without a word. His leaving broke the impasse and soon Balor and Itami caught up to them, Balor taking the lead on his chestnut. Feeling better now that he was moving again, Dean lifted his head and let the sun shine on his face. He didn't trust Balor and his friend. But he would use them and anything else he could to get Seth back safe and sound.

They traveled steadily south, the tracks never wavering in their direction.

Then Balor, who was leading the group pulled up abruptly. "They stopped here," he said quietly. "And met up with someone in a carriage."

"How long ago?" Dean asked, looking around. The clearing was quiet. To Dean it felt like the stillness that could only be felt in a cemetery, like sadness lingered in the air. The only sound was the rustle of leaves in the light breeze.

"Not long," Balor said. He got a funny look on his face like he smelled something strange, but Dean wasn't looking at him and missed it. He also missed Hideo nodding at Balor, confirming their suspicions. Then Owens called out from a little ways ahead. "Looks like they're all traveling together," he said when they caught up to him. "There are at least three riding and I'm not sure how many are in the wagon."

"Is the Ascension with them?" Finn asked Hideo. Itami shook his head. "We need to get close without them figuring out what we're up to, before those two idiots show up," Balor said and Hideo nodded. He spoke to Balor who glanced over at Dean.

"What?" Dean demanded. Seeing their shared look, Dean immediately jumped to conclusions and started to protest. "I'm not staying behind."

"You don't trust us?" Balor asked, somewhat sarcastically. Behind him, Owens rolled his eyes and snorted.

"Fucking stupid question. Of course I don't trust you," Dean said, moving his horse around the two so he could continue to track Seth, but they moved to block him. He glared and put a hand on his revolver. "If you don't get out of my way…" he started, but Balor interrupted.

"If you're seen, Hunter will know that we didn't kill you. With the Ascension in the area, Hunter will send them after you, and believe me they are not as nice as I am," Balor said. Indeed, he didn't envy Ambrose his fate if he were to fall to those fiends.

Speaking rapidly, Hideo gestured to the tracks and to Dean. Balor replied in fluent Japanese. Growing impatient, Dean asked, "What did he say?"

"Hideo has an idea," Balor said.

TBC