A/N: So, greetings for everyone. This is mostly a side-project (or spin-off, I guess) of my main DxD fanfic, "DxD: The Organization". Given its AU side-project nature and short chapters, I decided to also translate it since it also works both as an introduction to the universe of said fanfic (from an AU perspective) without spoiling most of what happens (there will be parallels, of course, but how things happen may vary a lot).

That said, I invite you to read, enjoy and review (or don't, but hopefully yes).

Disclaimer: "Highschool DxD" does not belong to me, all credit to its autor. This is merely a fan project and I only claim ownership of the original elements in this story.

EDIT NOTE: Edited on January 16th-17th, 2023.

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Chapter 1
An Ordinary Visit

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Central Base, Switzerland
2006

He took the glass with the gentleness of one handling a newborn and wrapped it with the cloth in his hand, rolling it around while his fingers, covered in the material, dried the container of any remaining water that might remain after letting it be for a while after washing it. This was a typical bar scene, a place he tended after all, and it was important that potential new customers, if any, had a good, professional first impression of the place different from the bartender looking at them directly. Although with such a limited audience, repeating the same regulars as always was much easier than capturing new consumers.

And saying it that way made him sound like a drug dealer. He sighed inwardly, shrugging at the irony of his own thought. Wasn't alcohol a legal drug anyway? Though on a second thought, perhaps it was more of a legal poison than a drug...

His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. He raised an eyebrow: it was still relatively early, at least by the standards of his regulars, and while the place wasn't a pigsty or anything of the sort (as if anything on the Central Base could be), it wasn't the most popular place available either. He also liked to think that it was of a higher standard compared to the larger bar attached to the "Officers' Club," nickname of the dining hall used by the Superior Ranks on the same level. Unfortunately, the fact that it was not near the main stairs meant that, despite its well-earned high-class reputation, it wasn't on the forefront of most customers when they decided to pay a visit for a drink in the afternoon. Ah, if only he could get a sexy onee-san through that door on this boring time of the day… just with that, all his problem would be over for the remainder of the day.

But that brought him back to the current situation, namely: was the newcomer a new customer, considering the unusual time of its arrival compared to the typical patrons of the place? Not at all, as a short inspection of the person in question revealed. Long blond hair, a slightly tanned face, a height slightly shorter than his own, bright blue eyes and a regular body shape that, while far from his occasional fantasies, was still good enough to make more than one man to yearn for her attention. He heaved another sigh to himself, lighter than the last, as he braced himself for what was to come.

"Alice. You came early today."

The girl in question gave a short laugh, taking a seat in the empty stool in front of him.

"Guilty as charged. You see, turns out we must leave early tomorrow, so they ordered us to garrison tonight. So~, I decided to come early to get something before I left!"

"Heeeh… interesting." The flatness of his voice betrayed his true interest in the matter, but mostly because he knew Alice wasn't worried about him feigning interest. She was one of the few who explicitly asked him to make everything transparent, and, given the unit to which she belonged, a quartering was something of routine that could result either in a single-day training exercise or a deployment to the other side of the globe, if not to the underworld. It didn't matter much, since Alice being, well, Alice, whatever the motive was, he was sure it would result in her returning to the bar in high spirits, not bothering much about keeping the secret about what she had done that time. It was a routine thing. "Lieutenant Kaltenbrunner didn't come?"

"Nah, Franz will be around making sure everything is in order. Or at least that's what he said." Alice shrugged. "He was quite insistent on the matter, so I let him be."

"So, you left him working while you came here to get drunk?" He raised an eyebrow curiously, a smile spread on his face.

"What? No!" The blonde crossed both arms in front of her, shaking her head vigorously. "My stuff was already done beforehand, that's why I'm here."

"And that's why you came to drink the night before a deployment. Heh." He had to hold back a laugh. "Typical Alice Meyer."

Although he held his laughter well, even so, the smile remained in his face. The girl returned the gesture like a child caught up in mischief, scratching the back of her head.

"Still, no, I didn't come here to get drunk. I did come for something light while I hang out, though, because I'm sure that what's coming tomorrow will be boring as hell for… for at least five days, being optimistic."

"Really?" He asked as he moved behind the bar until he reached the beer taps. Alice always had the same beer. He picked up a glass and held it over the tap, pouring carefully using the correct angles at each stage until the foam reached the brim, then set the glass down in front of the customer.

"You do know me," the blonde acknowledged as she brought the glass to her lips, taking a long drink of the golden liquid. He shrugged, smiling.

"You come at least twice a week unless you're in the field. I had to learn something by now."

"Yeah, I guess…" he handed her a napkin, which Alice used to wipe the foamy mustache that now graced her lips. "Anyway, this place is quite empty. I was hoping there would be more people."

"It's still early. Most people haven't finished their jobs yet, and the bar in the "Officer's Club" usually attracts the little attention at this hour."

"Well, that one is open most of the day after all. I mean, even I go there from time to time..."

"Wait, seriously?" He brought her hands to his chest, covering the place where his heart was. "My most faithful client, changing me so easily… so this is the betrayal that was talked about so much in the hallways nowadays…"

They both looked at each other for several seconds, saying nothing, until...

"Pfft!"

"Hahaha! Did you see your face?! You should be an actor!"

"I would rather spend my money on cute girls, and you know it!"

"Ara, aren't you calling me ugly in my face?"

"I'm but a humble man who prefers sexy older woman and I stand by it. Nothing against you though."

Between laughter and similar comments, he slipped her another glass of beer, which the blonde began to drink without delay. There wasn't much activity after that, the two of them sharing the occasional small talk as seconds turned into minutes. The only other customer who came in at the time was a seemingly young bureaucrat, who they both ignored once he was installed at his table.

"Well, I think I should go now." Alice said. He agreed. While Alice could still talk just fine, her movements made it clear that the beers, because of course she drank more than one, had taken their toll. "Write it all down to my account, yesh~?"

It took a great deal of his willpower not to distort his face at the adorable way the paramilitary officer spoke as she tried to stand up without losing her balance. He looked around the place trying to distract herself, but there was only the bureaucrat at his table lazily drinking from his glass.

"Sure. I just appreciate that your account is automatically deducted from your salary every month, because otherwise you would never pay." He spoke easily, but his gaze didn't leave the bureaucrat to the side who still had his eyes on his magazine, apparently ignoring them.

"You know that's not true~. I think I've paid a couple of times… I think…"

Key word: apparently.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, just sign here before you go off shooting at who knows what on the other side of the world, okay? I don't want my manager to unleash hell on me again for late payments."

He handed her the bill and a pencil, and the blonde quickly signing without checking the amount. She trusted that he wouldn't overcharge her.

"Hey, this time I'm not going that far away!" His attention fell back on Alice, who was looking at him with a hint of superiority. Superiority, for what exactly? "This time we are only going to Egypt! Make a little bit of noise, a little bit of chaos, take over the place and make a lot of boom boom~!"

He raised both eyebrows at her rowdy attitude, then shifted his gaze to the bureaucrat at the side of the room. Alice was yelling mission information at him, after all, and the Overwatch Regiment, though not a secret, did have a lot of reservations about sharing data on its activities. The office worker in question left the magazine on the table and seemed ready to stand up, when...

BAM!

His attention, and that of everyone present, was drawn to the entrance of the bar, where the door had just been thrown open and an irate man with the same uniform and details that Alice's stood in it. The blonde took a few steps back until she was sitting in her place again, which did not prevent the newcomer from putting his eyes on her.

"Aliceeeee…"

"Hiiiii!"

The man in question crossed the distance in a matter of seconds, his combat boots clicking firmly on the wooden floor with each step. He took one last look at the office worker, who had returned to his magazine, before attending the newcomer.

"Lieutenant Kaltenbrunner. I'm glad to see you well."

"Same." Despite his answer, the lieutenant in question didn't pay much attention to him, instead focusing on the blonde who was trying to shrink in her seat. "Alice, when you said you were going to go for a walk, I thought you'd be supervising the men or making last minute adjustments to the plan. Perhaps even checking that everything was in order. But where do I find you? In a bar. In a fucking bar."

He soured his face at the description, but an apologetic look from the lieutenant in question made him understand that it was nothing more than to add emphasis to the critique to his comrade-in-arms. With nothing else to do, he dedicated himself to cleaning the last glass used by Alice while she continued to be reprimanded by Kaltenbrunner.

"B-but I was just enjoying my free time..."

"Yeah, and that's fine, but getting drunk before a mission? What were you thinking?"

"Come on, Fraaanz~. If it doesn't affect the mission, then what does it matter?"

"You'll be… Ugh, never mind. Let's go!"

Kaltenbrunner put down, with some force, a few bills on the counter and dragged Alice out of the bar, muttering curses and complaints along the way that the drunken lieutenant occasionally answered. Undeterred by the occurrence, he put the money in his pocket (he was familiar enough with the duo to know that that tip was Kaltenbrunner's way of apologizing for his partner's quips) and left the counter to order the place. He aligned the stool with the bar, adjusted some seats moved during the commotion and correctly closed the door, which was left ajar. He then returned behind the counter, resuming his original task of wiping a glass with a cloth as he waited for another customer to cross the entrance.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed some movement. He turned his head slightly to improve his field of vision, finding the bureaucrat from earlier standing up and moving towards him. He set the used glass down on the counter and left the magazine in a pile to the side, quietly taking out a black card with the [Organization] logo from his jacket's inner pocket.

Nothing abnormal so far, it was a usual way of paying in the [Organization]'s own facilities: you accumulated everything by paying with it, and at the beginning of the following month, all the money from all the purchases made by those cards was received, with not a single name being specified. It kinda worked like credit cards, with the added benefit of anonymity for those with high enough rank and clearance, such as the user of the black cards. Perfect for those who didn't want to (or couldn't) give their name regularly, for one reason or another.

Quite convenient.

"Sorry for the trouble, sir. It is not something usual." That customer wasn't a regular, but he could bet he'd seen him a couple times before. He took the card and inserted it into the machine to the side, entering the order and its value and waiting for the amount to be loaded onto the piece of plastic with a chip inside.

"Don't worry, I know. People don't usually go shouting things like that in everyday life." The subject in question shrugged, taking a seat across from the bartender. "Although… well, I'm not one to pry on other people's life, but that girl was shouting way too loudly. It wouldn't be too serious if it wasn't for a classified Overwatch operation for tonight that'll last for a week, though…"

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. While everything the bureaucrat said could be gathered from his conversation with Alice, he wasn't there through the whole exchange. The only information he could have gotten was-

"Yeah, Egypt and stuff. It's not the most secret part of the operation, it's true, but it's all they'll do. That she is already saying where they are going and what they will do… aaahhh, it is almost as if she wants others to dig in to discover the rest."

This attracted his attention.

"The rest?"

"They're going to Alexandria to cause a bit of disorder and distract the ecclesiastical forces in the Mediterranean. They will concentrate a significant part of their vigilance on trying to know what the hell are Central Command forces doing deploying near Suez. With the reputation we built the Overwatch with, you can bet at least half their surveillance assets will be focused on them for a couple of hours, long enough for them to realize that they're just performing exercises against forces of the local division. With this screen, a few of our men slipping into Milan undetected and securing a certain VIP will be a piece of cake."

He narrowed his eyes. The bureaucrat had not moved from his post, his gaze focused on the glass with melted ice that he'd used until recently, but the fact that he kept the same boring tone of voice while he spoke of an obviously secret operation unnerved him excessively.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"There's no one else here, and there are no microphones or cameras here to record this conversation. It's part of the reason why I prefer to come to this bar instead of the other one."

He knew about the lack of surveillance here, and that the main bar was bugged with microphones and cameras to no end. This was no nobody if that wasn't already clear. He withdrew the card from the machine, purchase registry done, and walked over with calculated steps, holding it out. The official left the glass on the counter, without turning to see him.

"Still, going around saying these things can be dangerous. You never know who might be listening."

"True, true. But honestly… who would say anything here?"

"Well, last time I checked, bartenders aren't exactly high-clearance personnel."

"Heh, you're right. But there is nothing to fear. After all…"

The bureaucrat finally looked up, facing him. He felt his blood run cold, the gaze of the subject in front of him petrifying him in his place at his inquisitive nature. He was like a predator facing his prey, one who already knew every move he would make and had prepared accordingly.

"…after all, you already know what happens when one tells the wrong things. Isn't that right, bartender who tipped off this VIP in the first place?"

He snatched the card from his paralyzed outstretched hand, returning it to his pocket without haste or slowness. He, meanwhile, stood there, his brain failing to process the information as the individual in front of him continued.

"Or should I say, Issei Hyoudou, former member of the Numbers?"

He felt the color drain from his face. Nothing made sense. Who was this office worker and how did he know who he was…?

The bar door opened again, two regulars entering the premises. The bureaucrat took this as his signal to leave, slouching and standing up.

"Well, as I was saying, I liked the Old Fashioned you made, although next time I'd like to try the Scotch with fewer orange bitters. Anyway, see you."

He turned and disappeared through the door, leaving him alone with the new customers. Shaking his head, Issei forced himself to focus on work. He pointed the newcomers to a table and got ready to serve them soon, the stranger's words echoing in his head.

"Former Member of the Numbers?"

He suppressed a growl from his throat, annoyed. He tended both new customers, taking their orders and getting to work while he left them chatting. There was something wrong with him.

It was not uncommon for some office workers, or bureaucrats as others called them, to know confidential information, usually because they worked in the departments where such information was processed, or their jobs demanded their knowledge. But still, most didn't have the courage to comment on it outside the relative safety of their offices. No, there was something else in the equation that he didn't know about, and that couldn't help but make his hair stand on end.

He delivered the drinks to the table and started back to the bar when he remembered. They were from the rumors on the internal internet forums of the [Organization], something he rarely took seriously and usually used to distract himself from his daily life. But there was one in particular that he now remembered.

"Of course," he thought. It all made sense now. "Who else would have access to that information?"

There was a specific rumor, one of many that circulated daily and were lost among hundreds of messages. It talked about that the reason no one knew about people in certain high-level positions was because they just didn't exist, their existence a myth to keep restless employees in line. It had many detractors, of course, but there was one answer that caught his attention at the time.

"How do we know they're not just camouflaging as one of us?"

Of course, faced with such a simple answer, most chose to ignore it due to its lack of emotion. But it resonated perfectly with something his previous boss told him, when he was still part of the Numbers, about the External Security department. It wasn't any specific information, but a simple comment about how its department head operated:

"What better way to find out what people think than to mingle with them?"

He massaged the bridge of his nose. He was thinking too much, and there was still a long way to go before his shift was over. He went back behind the bar, picked up a glass and went back to the motion of wiping it down.

"The past must stay where it is," he told himself as he looked at the white glove that covered his left hand.

"And that place is oblivion."

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A/N: This chapter was edited partly due to some criticism I received, of which I agreed in many elements. The editing job was also done, maybe to more effect, in the next chapter. Simply put, this isn't a story about bartending, but a story of a scarred Issei Hyoudou who tends a high-class bar in a less-than-ethical organization. As such, changes had to be made both to make Issei more Issei-like, and to better drive home the point and atmosphere of the story, something I'm not doing that greatly in my main DxD fanfic.

Well, what's said is said. Hope you liked this chapter and leave a review (if you feel like it). Read you later,
RedSS.