AN: Already past 20 chapters and onto Chapter 21! Sorry for taking a while to update; putting jokes aside, I have been reviewing a few things. Alongside this, I have been working on an upcoming story (not related to Sonic) so that I can get enough done during my university break, thus it took a bit longer to get this chapter done.

This is the last chapter of the small arc of Molly asking Obsidian out. Now, time to meet her family. Just to note that since Molly's family is Hispanic, the dialogues that are in italics are spoken in Spanish. However, I want to let you all know that this chapter does not heavily focus on Molly's heritage culture. So I'm sorry if this chapter does not give too much accurate focus on a Hispanic family.

Hope that you enjoy this chapter, everyone.

Chapter 21

We didn't alert everyone about Dave's appearance since Molly didn't want to, in her own terms, 'get pelted by banana skins for being a party pooper'. Fortunately, she wasn't unprepared as she quickly asked Fiyero to check through the security cameras. She even used a gadget she hid in her jacket to scan the mansion for anomalies (aside from the weird make-outs still occurring upstairs).

I was a little disappointed that we didn't have a lead, but it was good Dave didn't do anything else to the mansion or the partygoers. We did manage to find some camera footage as proof that Dave snuck in to find me. It would seem that the Lightning Bolt Society were trying to spy on me, even if they hired a spy.

Just thinking about it, I was reminded of how casual I was after the news of a spy in G.U.N two days ago.

The worry of being stalked didn't last since there wasn't any other group out there currently seeing what I was doing. Molly and I eventually stayed around for the party until we could see the sun setting down. By the time we headed to the gates, I had memorized the names of the many people I met to myself.

It got me smiling, knowing I managed to acquaint myself with a few more people who could tell me more about this world.

Though, it got me thinking that Molly should have talked or kept in touch with these people more. She was lucky to have them. Nevertheless, it seemed like she was more comfortable not mingling that much with only few people.

Right now, given the distance to the nearest bus station or drop-off zone for any taxi, it would take a while to get to Molly's house. Immediately, I knew the trip would only feel like a short while so it would come in quickly. And it would mean seeing what a blood family would be like…

Then, it came to me. Coming to this mansion with all those kids the same age as Molly would be more easygoing than the folks. The older members at G.U.N were more patient. But thinking about Molly's family felt like a different story, especially since it would be her parents I would be meeting very soon.

It made me wonder what they would be like. I could already expect them to be in a healthy relationship, but what about their attitudes towards people like me?

"Is there…anything I should know about before we hop into this?" I asked.

Molly thought for a while. "You mean about my family?"

"Well, the only things you mentioned to me is that they are pretty much like a rainbow, they're playful and they are kind of strict on the job you have?"

The purple cat whistled lowly. "OK, you got it covered. Not that strict, however, since my Abuela is growing older. First, if you hate flowers, then make sure to snatch a clothes peg to pin your nose together." She chuckled, punching my shoulder. "Second, I have three little rowdy cousins, so they'll pin you to the ground easily."

That I felt comfortable with. "Lots of kids, huh? That I can handle."

"No, you wouldn't."

"But I like kids!"

"You're a bit of the slow kind, so I-I…I think you'll get squished."

"Oh please. I'm a full-trained mercenary who got sat on by an elephant once!"

Molly chuckled before her smile dropped. "Seriously. I'm not kidding."

I didn't listen to her, putting my hands behind my head. "Anything else?"

"Oh, my family…is multicultural, but we all share the same tongue. Perhaps, you know how to speak Spanish, hermano?"

I hummed, shrugging. "Only a little. I'm not so fluent when speaking Spanish."

"Hmm, well, good luck then," said Molly in Spanish.

"Anything else at all? Anything?"

The purple cat thought about it. "Mmm, no. Not really. Just make sure that you are polite, but you get the basics. And don't try to look like you're intimidated or whatever."

I decided not to try to let her reinforce that statement, barking proudly. "Eh, you say your folks are good, so it'll be fine! What's the worst that can happen?"

I didn't expect much of Molly's house initially. I guessed it would be in an apartment or a small house. If it would be just her and her Abuela by themselves. And despite Molly's taste in classy looks, she didn't seem to be the type to decorate her own personal property. But it was becoming apparent that the Johnsons liked their flowers a lot.

Dropping off at her house by a taxi, I was greeted with several flower beds in neat rows with the pavement to the front entrance between them. They took up what could have been the grass areas. Surprisingly, these flower beds contained flowers matching the usual colors Molly wore. Pink and lavender flowers, to be specific.

Naturally, there were a few bees around, buzzing around. Not that many since it was already growing dark, but still noticeable.

What I didn't expect was the same pesky pigeon to fly in. It cooed, staring at the bees flying around. I couldn't really tell what was going through its mind…until it reached into an incoming bee and swallowed it whole.

"Yo, man?" said Molly, waving a hand before my face. "You're there?"

"Yeah, yeah," I said off-handedly, ignoring the pigeon. "I'm there."

Turning back to the house, I twiddled my shaky fingers. I was already anxious as we approached the front door despite having the experience of meeting thousands of chaotic people earlier. However, it didn't feel like my anxiety would kill me for this one or I wasn't exaggerating as much as last time. It was only a smaller group of people, but it felt new.

I took in a deep breath, adjusting my tie. It was a good thing that Fiyero was nice enough to clean it quickly. There was still a filthy chocolate smell on it, but the look of my outfit covered it up. I even ditched the specs and put back on the green bandanna around my head. It gave me confidence since I already settled into this society.

With another deep breath in and out, I told myself to be confident and act like myself.

Molly took out a set of keys, but she hesitated to insert them in the keyhole.

"You're sure you're ready?" she asked.

"I am," I said, puffing up my chest. "It sounds like you're not ready."

"I don't want to be tackled by the kittens again."

"They're just kids! They're harmless! They have a great life here, so they won't be too rough. Agent Johnson of G.U.N can handle a couple of babies."

Molly bit her lip. "Hold onto that thought."

The SECOND she placed the keys into the keyhole, the door burst open to reveal a trio of cats who looked no older than 10. They were all wearing matching colorful shirts and with striking shades of lavender fur. I swear I saw one dropping from the window and onto Molly's fedora. They immediately jumped onto her, laughing and meowing loudly.

The same couldn't be said for Molly, falling over and being buried by her cousins. She tried to say something, only for a couple of them to rub their paws over her mouth. It was both a hilarious and adorable sight to see three young cats playing with their older cousin.

"Boys, boys, boys!" shouted a voice from inside. "I told you to stay off that sugar and…"

A male cat appeared at the door. He looked similar to Molly aside from his coffee brown skin color. He was only wearing a white shirt, black pants and orange sneakers. What stood out was his cooking mittens and a large apron over his chest with the words 'DON'T TOUCH MY BUNS'.

I grimaced when I read that message.

"Oh, you…" he said, his smile turning stiff.

I tried giving a friendly grin. For a moment, I hoped that my sharp canines didn't scare him off. To my surprise, he had matching canines. Was Molly's family part panther?

"Hello there, Mr Johnson," I said politely, reaching out to offer a handshake. "Pleasure to meet you."

Mr Johnson stared at me for a while, inspecting my hand. He narrowed his eyes when he saw my sharp claws hidden under the leather gloves. He shifted his eyes at me, staring into my golden ones. There was a brief moment when he looked over my shoulder to see if anybody was behind.

Eventually, he shook my head, giving me a small handshake.

At the same time, Molly convinced her three little cats to calm down. They stopped clamoring, but remained close to her legs.

"Molly," said Mr Johnson in Spanish, keeping his voice neutral. "Is this 'Agent Obsidian' you told me about? Cause he looks like…?"

Molly sighed. "Dad. I wasn't joking when I said he's from the Jackal Squad."

"For a moment, I thought you were talking about some stray dog found on the streets. Or just one of those bad boys you picked up at school. Just as long as you are well-behaved." He turned to me. "And no touchy on the gun collections."

I was already getting the feeling that he immediately hated me, but I was taken aback by…

"I'm sorry, did you say 'gun collections?" I asked worriedly. "In this house?"

Mr Johnson's eyes widened. The older cat clenched his teeth, rubbing the back of his head. He must have realized how worried I suddenly became. He glanced at his daughter and the two exchanged an awkward look. I must have caused a small crack.

"Well, we…are collectors," he said sheepishly. "And it's all hailed from our past grandfathers and grandmothers when they were…in the military and worked as hunters in the woods."

"And in many political protests," muttered Molly.

"Really?" I said.

She nodded, looking down at her own feet.

"A-Anyway," said Mr Johnson, waving his hand. "Make yourself at home…Molly, I may need your help ensuring the chicken isn't burnt again."

"OK then," said Molly, smiling a little. "Let's see if that bird is cooked."

"Aww!" whined one of the young triplets. "Can you show us the presents you bought for us?"

"Yeah! We want to play with them!" sulked another triplet.

"Little Miss Mojo has something important to take," said the purple cat calmly. "Why don't you play with my friend? This jackal here is a super metahuman soldier."

I wanted to ask what I should do with her kids, but Molly picked one young kitty up and placed her into my arms. Without batting an eye, she squeezed her way into the house. Mr Johnson barely moved away from the door frame, his posture sharp and his body slouching a little as if about to attack. The three kitten's eyes were on me already.

The older cat cleared his throat. "Well, Estella, Epsilon, Elicia, this is Molly's boyfriend…" He trailed off when I glared at him. "I mean 'partner'. Agent Obsidian. Obsidian, these are my nephew and nieces, Estella, Epsilon and Elicia."

The one I was carrying was Elicia. She cooed curiously, tilting her head. Immediately, I was wonderstruck by how cute she was. With chubby cheeks, large sparkling eyes and soft triangular ears. For some reason, it felt like holding a cupcake/ She didn't seem scared of me. Only curious. She let out a small meow, eliciting my tail to flick upwards.

This applied to Estella and Epsilon as they gazed at me for a long time.

"Wow," whispered Estella. "He's…really big."

"He looks really intense," peeped Epsilon.

"Hey, don't say that word to strangers," warned Mr Johnson.

Elicia didn't say a word yet. I tried grinning again, hoping it came off as friendly. Thankfully, there wasn't any tension built up as Elicia was merely studying my face instead of acting reflexively. Her eyes slowly looked down and she let out a giggle,

"Bushy tail!" she squealed, her tiny paws trying to reach my face. "He has a bushy tail!"

The image of the baby in the car on my first night in Central City entered my vision. I found myself smiling, grateful that at least these kids didn't seem to mind. Seeing Elicia's joy was a delight since she looked more adorable like this. I giggled and let her pat her hands on my face. To my surprise, she used it to crawl over my head and fall off from the back.

I immediately lifted my tail up to break her fall, but it seemed like that was what she aimed to do. She giggled, hugging my tail tightly. For a youngling, she was actually quite strong.

Mr Johnson let out a sigh of relief. "That was close. Thought I would need to bring out the bandages again."

I was about to ask when Estella and Epsilon used it as an opportunity to rush towards me. Epsilon turned to my tail, grabbing it by the tip. He laughed, hopping onto it, to the chagrin of Elicia. While the two bickered about who would get to ride my tail, Estella pulled on my jacket, wanting my attention.

"Up!" she chanted. "Up! Up!"

This time, it didn't take me long to understand what she meant. I picked her up, mindful of my claws. She giggled, resting her head against my chest. She even began purring! The vibration of her purring rumbled over my ruby and it responded with a similar sound. My face burned in a pink color, but I was more proud and happy than embarrassed.

The moment was nearly destroyed when Epsilon pulled my hair, trying to sit on my head. With a sigh, Mr Johnson came towards me and quickly placed a hand over my back before I could fall down. In a father-like manner, he straightened me up and brushed my shoulders.

"Seems like you're…good with kids?" he asked.

"First time a kid ever climbed on me!" I responded cheerfully.

The older cat nodded. "OK then. But don't make them fall. I'm not gonna be responsible for it. And that goes the same for you three."

"You worry too much, Molly's father!" teased Epsilon.

"He's a super soldier!" chirped Elicia.

"He's cool with Mojo!" said Estella.

Mr Johnson sighed again, exasperated. "Sure, sure, sure. Now, come with me, Mr. Jackal. Let me introduce you to the others."

I believe I already knew what I could expect from this entire family here. Molly is aloof, Mr. Johnson is quite protective and cautious, and the three cats sitting on my shoulders and head are quite rambunctious. However, I didn't even get to admire the furniture in the hallway as I was another member of the family came in with her own dynamic introduction.

This one was a pink cat with a long braid ponytail and purple eyes. She wore a black fedora with a fuchsia stripe, a ruffled red dress with pink roses, white gloves, a black belt and black shoes. And oh, she fell from the staircase, rolled across the floor and pointed a RIFLE right at me.

"Be at ease, you smelly brownie crocodile!" she yelled hammily. "I smell the blood of a madman, so if you don't stand down, I'll have to knock you down, you pedazo of a skunk!"

…why was she talking like that?

I was shocked. No need for another word to describe how I think about THIS.

Mr Johnson looked smitten. "I could get into this."

All three kids hanging on me let out a collecting 'EWW!'

I even gave him a look.

The female cat took the time to process my presence. Good gravy, she finally lifted down the rifle when she came to her senses.

"Oh, sorry about that," she said. "I just have a high smell detection like a dog and I thought it was some kind of frog playing in the mud that hopped into the house."

"It's…fine," I said with a frozen grin. "I had my face smashed into a cake a few hours ago."

"This is Obsidian," informed Mr Johnson. "The boy Molly brought to the dinner."

Mrs Johnson was surprised, coming close to inspect my face. "Wait, THAT'S the agent she said who is trying to serve his community service? He looks more like a high school student than a criminal."

"The suit probably helps," I muttered under my breath.

"Hmm, I can roll with this," said Mrs Johnson, rolling her rifle in her hand. "Sorry again if I made you uncomfortable. Make yourself at home here! We'll be having dinner soon." She leaned towards her husband and whispered in Spanish, "Do you think he speaks Spanish?"

"Yes, but only a little bit," I whispered.

Both older cats whipped around to face me, surprised.

"Well, looks like you won't fall behind!" said Mr Johnson, a little impressed. "Some of our family don't prefer to speak English."

"Yeah, my mother isn't good at English," said Mrs Johnson, swinging the rifle over my head. "That's Molly's Abuela. But no worries; if you know a lot about Spanish, then you'll bond with the family soon enough. I mean, I suspect that's how my daughter has her eyes on tall, dark and handsome."

I rolled my eyes. "Molly and I are just friends. I…have eyes for another guy. And can you please stop waving that gun around? It's too dangerous."

"Don't worry," reassured the older woman with a wink. "The safety switch is on."

She clicked the trigger and I ducked down. Unlike Molly when she said that, the rifle didn't went off. Mrs Johnson did turn the safety on.

Still, I wasn't sure about taking her word since it was dangerous to carry such a weapon around. She seemed brave enough, a spitting image of a future version of Molly. This family seemed to be THIS interested in using these kinds of weapons. Trying to distract myself, I turned around, feeling the three cats switch sitting places on my body.

On the wall next to us was a huge group of pictures and glass cases containing what appeared to be ancient replicas of weapons. I didn't recognize some pictures since they showed Molly's other relatives, a range of purple and pink cats. Most were framed in forests and lakes, the cats geared up in protective or camp clothes. Not a single picture was grim with every one of them had a bright smile.

I spotted one picture that showed Molly when she was younger, wielding a bow and arrow and a huge smile. Behind her was a lavender cat with braided hair and a purple stripe through the middle of her ears, carrying a gentle and humble smile. I wondered what that was about until I saw a giant fish in Molly's lap. On the right was a picture of Mr Johnson standing proudly with a grappling hook gun.

And that grappling hook gun was right above it in a glass case. I expected a shine, but part of the black shell appeared decaying in dark brown rust. The hook was still in the barrel, but I doubt it could fire again.

"Are you correct that you guys are…collectors?" I asked.

Mr Johnson shrugged. "It's our own family tradition."

"The same old, boring tradition," said Estella, her cheek pressing against mine.

"Hey, you better remember this like how we keep onto our cultural roots!"

"You mean looking hot and spicy?" teased Epsilon.

"Please don't say that."

"They're 'nerds' in hunting," said Elicia, looking down at me from above.

"Not just nerds!" claimed Mrs Johnson, getting herself in front of her little shrine. "Before, some of our oldest and way-back relatives were hunters and lovers of the wild! We took an interest in hunting sports mostly. Now, remember, we don't use guns to hurt others. No resorting to terrorism."

"Even when there's a temptation?" I checked.

"Even so, we shape them straight." Mrs Johnson answered. "I'll admit, our birthplaces aren't too happy with this passion. Though, one important factor we kept is knowing what to shoot for. Our sharp eyesight runs through our blood."

The clarification proved why Molly was good at using handguns yet it surprised me that it was carried through her previous generations. I nearly believed some of them might have been past mercenaries. Looking back, it was more of an activity they did together. Much like Molly, they weren't unaware of the mistakes that could be made with these weapons.

Mr Johnson was at the corner of my eye and I realized I was gonna give away my slight discomfort. I scanned the wall again, blurting out the first thing I would stare at more.

"Is that a grappling hook?" I asked hastily.

Mr Johnson puffed his chest up, wearing what looked like his old pride. "Yeah. I used to be a shark hunter. On the feral ones, of course. The ones that caused a problem for both humans and animals."

"Did you succeed in killing any?"

The older man scoffed with a smirk. "No. I never actually caught one. Some of my lucky shots only sank into the sea. I came close a few times before, but those beasts always get away. I remembered the last time when I noticed one trying to rub its stomach on the roof of a brothel…"

Mr Johnson was already blabbering away about his tales. I would have listened if it weren't for the triplets moving around again. Epsilon crawled onto my head and hung upside down, our eyes meeting each other. Estella was on my shoulder, miming her uncle's words with a too-serious look.

Meanwhile, Elicia grabbed me by the hand and I nearly fell to the ground again. Stumbling a little, I entered what appeared to be the living room.

BANG!

I yelped, eventually falling backwards. The three young cats giggled, using my tail as a landing pad. They were oblivious to the loud noises coming from the television. I winced, my ears twitching. Despite the loud banging from the speakers, my attention turned to the two other cats in the room.

Both appeared to be the same age as Molly, judging by their height. One was a male with fuchsia fur, wore a black hoodie and was intensively glued to a shooting video game he was playing on the television. His teeth were gritted in an angry snarl. The other one was a female with pink fur and wore a black dress with orange flowers decorating it, her eyes glued to her phone.

"AH!" shouted the male cat, hitting buttons on his controller. "DIE, YOU ALIEN SCUM! I'll show you some extra cholesterol!"

Gaia almighty, I slowly tried creeping away from the scene unfolding before me. Look, I know that I learnt about these shooting games, but compared to the one Matthew's daughter showed me, this game the male cat was playing looked like it was in a real-life apocalypse! I curled my tail tip upwards, wanting the three cats on top of me not to see this.

The screen was presenting a first-person experience of someone shooting bullets at horrifying, toothy aliens. Their bodies flailed around in unfortunate defeat as green liquid poured from their new wounds. The male cat laughed loudly, sounding like a maniac. His voice was louder than the speakers by then. I closed my eyes, trying to suppress a scared growl.

Mrs Johnson entered the room with a disapproving look. I turned my head to her, keeping my voice to a whisper.

"Alright, I have been controlling this for a while, but…" I had to squeeze my hip to keep my scream to a whisper. "What the hell is going on?! What else is included in the family tradition?!"

Elicia gasped, putting her hands over her mouth. "Agent Obsidian said a bad word!"

"Naughty, naughty!" yelled Estella.

I groaned. "Right. How could I forget you three knowing the language?"

"As I said, we don't resort to terrorism," said Mrs Johnson, rubbing her face. "Camilo here was taught about his father's special fishing equipment and he met with the wrong group of friends when they talked about weapons. His sister, Tuesday, seems a little different."

I quickly got back up, making sure the three kittens didn't see the television. Thankfully, they seemed to know what they shouldn't see this, already scurrying away on all fours. I turned to see Tuesday, the female cat, still staring at her phone. A smug reaction came out of her when her phone buzzed.

"I'm guessing she has her nose deep into the equally threatening social media," I said.

"You catch on pretty quick," said Mrs Johnson. "Such a shame she brought her phone along when it's bonding time."

"I'm starting to see that with the technology people have here."

It was nearly time to have dinner since Molly helped her father prepare the last few meals. Once I made my presence known to the uncles and aunties, they were a little freaked out, but after Molly reassured them, they seemed to settle without further complaint. They were nice enough to introduce themselves to me. I didn't expect Molly's family to have three family branches, totalling 15 people.

So there was Molly and her parents, with Mrs Johnson's mother being Abuela Valentina, who stayed with Molly in this house.

Then came along Selena and Juan with their three kids, Estella, Epsilon and Elicia, and Juan's sister Becky.

The third branch was Mayday and Gabriel with their kids, Camilo and Tuesday, and Gabriel's Abeulo Muerte.

By the time I finished introducing myself to most of them, it nearly became hard to follow who was who. While some had different hairstyles and clothes to distinguish themselves, they nearly looked the same, even the grandparents. Probably due to nearly sharing the same fur colors. And acting nearly the same.

Funnily enough, given that they were of different Hispanic heritage, I wondered if they were also American since 'Johnson' didn't sound like a Hispanic last name.

We already got ourselves seated and I was lucky enough to find a seat next to Molly's on my left with the three young kittens on my right. I wondered if Molly had accidentally burnt much of the food since I was greeted by a fog of steam blowing in my face. The table was packed with bowls and plates, a mixture of Western and Columbian cuisine.

Taking a big sniff, I sensed the different spices and herbs used. The ruby hummed, sounding like it was in pleasure. I sniffed again and I noted that some of the soups and stews cooked seemed to be more in general than to a specific cuisine.

If the table wasn't crowded enough, there were at least three to five vases in the middle of the table. They had to shuffle many plates around to make space. I wondered why they wanted to keep the flower vases here when they could have moved them somewhere else. But the flowers make a good view, bringing some orange and pink light for the mood.

Even though I hadn't made my move yet, many were already taking a few meals. Mostly to help the elderly with preparing their dinner. Looking to the side, Mr Johnson was pouring chicken nuggets onto plates for Estella, Epsilon and Elicia. From this view, I could even see Molly calling for someone on the other side of the hallway.

"Abuela!" she called. "Dinner's ready."

"Coming, coming," said a crisp yet smooth voice from the other side. "Had to water the flowers upstairs first."

There was only one person who didn't make their appearance yet and that must be Abuela Valentina. Her gentle footsteps were getting closer and Molly immediately rushed up to her. There was a soft chuckle before her Abuela said something in another language. Someone near me told me I could take my food, but I wanted to wait patiently. I wanted to see who had been living with Molly here.

Abuela Valentina was still standing, patting Molly on her head as the younger cat insisted on guiding her to the table. The elderly cat had violet fur with some parts that appeared dyed recently, soft brown eyes and braided hair tied in a bun with a flower headpiece between her ears. She wore a long-sleeved black sweater, a magenta casual poncho decorated with colorful flowers, a small brown ruffled skirt, black leggings and brown flats.

Her steps were gentle as she walked slowly to the table. All eyes turned to her, each member of the Johnson family saying their hellos to her. Valentina smiled, nodding and returning the greeting. For some reason, the room felt different. I don't know why, but it felt like I was nearly back in time. Like Valentina's presence. Just seeing her and her unofficial sense of superiority got me feeling like I was meeting an ancient queen.

The elderly cat stopped near me. She raised an eye in amusement, leaning her head close to me.

"So you must be the jackal my granddaughter has been seeing lately," she said. "Gave her good company?"

Even though I was over the phase of being intimidated, I couldn't help feeling like so. It reminded me of looking up to Zero in the past. I puffed up my chest and smiled politely, hoping I would look nice enough.

"Your daughter has been doing well," I responded.

Valentina stared at me for a few more minutes before she walked over to her seat. Then, I theorized she must have gazed into my soul or my ruby. My ruby hummed to me, whispering to me that she seemed to be quite wise.

Molly cleared her throat, setting down two plates of food. One for me and one for her. A couple of empanadas, beef slices in a sauce I haven't tried before, fried vegetables and a scoop of mash. However, taste wasn't what I concentrated on for this dinner. As I bit into one of the empanadas, I was pensive when the family began talking.

"Sorry for my language," piped up Juan. "But holy sh…" He caught Mayday's glare. "...hhhogun! You're…one of the freaking bandits of the Jackal Squad?"

"Swear word!" squeaked Epsilon.

Juan hissed to himself, his shoulders sagging in exasperation. "I'm not putting a penny in your…"

"Someone jog my memory again," said Muerte, a quizzical look directed to me. "THIS is the current criminal who joined G.U.N?"

"You invited this beautiful criminal into the house, Molly?" asked Selena.

"I thought you all understood when Molly told me about him," defended Valentina.

Molly snorted. "I couldn't find anyone tolerable to go with at Fiyero's party."

I smirked, punching her shoulder playfully. There were some soft chuckles amongst the aunties and uncles. Seemed to be a good impression.

"I heard that you were a hero in stopping Willy Walrus and the Weasel Bandits from stealing at Pilot Diamond's museum," said Becky, rubbing her chin. "Was it true you recreated the diamond Willy stole?"

"Is that what you heard?" I questioned. "Because not quite."

Becky appeared deflated. She whispered something to Juan, prompting the latter to pinch her by the ear playfully.

As some of the older adults went into their own conversations, Tuesday reached out her fork and tapped it on my plate, catching my attention. Looking at her, her eyes were half-lidden and her smile was curled flirtatiously.

"So…" she asked in a sultry tone, her chin lazily resting on her palm. "I like to ask if you were the one who killed my friend's cousin and if you're single."

Memories of the muscular wolf flashed over my eyes.

Molly choked on the water she was drinking.

Camilo barely choked, but he sipped his drink the longest.

One of the kittens next to me made a disgusted noise, followed by something wet hitting the floor.

"Blah!" grossed out Elicia, spinach dripping from her mouth. "Cuz!"

"What did I tell you about flirting with strangers?" grumbled Juan, rubbing his forehead. "Even new guys?"

"It's about first impressions, Dad," said Tuesday, flipping a bang upwards.

"Well, a real one, at least," said Selena with an amused smirk. "Unlike the K-Pop boys you follow, Tuesday. This one is a cutie, even a bodybuilder! This is the kind of guy you should date. I'm sure his brain is interesting to pick and he has an amazing front and backside."

My face was already burning red again. Thankfully, my tail didn't wag. I was more embarrassed that I now have at least three people attracted to me. I was grateful when Becky decided to change the topic.

"So, how was your job, Molly?" she asked through a mouthful of fish.

"Just the usual," said Molly, finely cutting into her vegetables. "Got my first field experience in battle. Solved a heist case. Alerted about an intruder in Fiyero's house earlier."

"At least your life is more exciting," said Muerte. "You kids better make good use of that."

"Speaking of making good use of anything," cut in Mayday, cutting through a large slab of meat. "Have you been looking for other jobs, Molly?"

The purple cat paused eating her vegetables. I could smell it. Her anxiety was rising. Her expression said otherwise, but for a brief moment, her body was still like she was preparing to run. Her eyes were about to look back up when Mayday called my name.

"Obsidian, has she been looking for other jobs?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Not like she told me about that. I thought being a G.U.N agent was her job."

Mayday scoffed. "We didn't move to America so that we die for a living."

"To be fair," said Mrs Johnson, swirling around a glass of wine. "Molly succeeded in her classes of psychology, finance and criminology."

"That is enough to get a degree, a secure job and have a higher pay," pointed out Mr Johnson sheepishly.

Molly huffed, trying not to glare. "I still don't want to be a teacher. And I'm paying the bills for Abuela just fine."

"But you're great with kids!" pointed out Mayday. "Why try to shrug that ability off?"

"Wait, aren't some of you hunters as well?" I asked. "And thus, she is using your family tradition?"

Valentina had a thoughtful look, but she didn't seem happy. "That's true, but she mastered a couple of her classes. The family's hobbies don't always align with careers. Her criminology side got her into being a military agent."

"And her acrobatic classes in which she only graduated with one trophy instead of five," teased Mayday.

Molly finally let out a long groan, utterly fed-up.

"Well, I'm sorry for my unacceptable job and that I LIKE it," she sassed. "But one day, I'll make you proud, I promise."

"Molly, we are proud of your job," said Mr Johnson.

"Except Mayday," said Mrs Johnson bluntly.

Mayday rolled her eyes. "Thought you would be worried as well."

"Well, she seemed to have tolerated a couple of criminals she met," said Mr Johnson. "Not to mention befriending one."

Molly sighed, smiling a little. "Thanks, Dad."

As a newbie, my mind was rerouting to the conversation before me. That explained why earlier Molly mentioned that some of her family expected her to be a school teacher. I have to agree that while it was part of her family tradition, it wouldn't be safe for her to be a shooter in a military organisation when none of the living family members was working in the army or police forces.

I glanced at Estella, Epsilon and Elicia, but they were smirking, looking like they could laugh. I turned to Camilo and Tuesday and they seemed to sympathize with their cousin.

"What about you, chico?" asked Mayday, turning to me. "You thought of the jobs you want in Central City after you finish your community service?"

"No, not really," I said simply. "I like my job as well. I'm helping people, right?"

There were some mutters amongst the older adults. Valentina stared at me again for a while, tilting her head in curiosity. Mr Johnson's was more quick, giving me a nod of respect. A bit of a change from earlier.

"Not easy to be a hero," pointed out Muerte. "Maybe you might fit into being a cop or a mercenary one day."

"Is that possible?" I asked.

"Son, you have an expertise of your own. If possible, you might be on your way to being a good agent."

He wasn't smiling, but he was right. I noted that the way he waved his spoon around was in a know-it-all way, like it was a matter of fact. A soft growl from Molly, scowling in jealousy.

"Wait a minute, you're a former mercenary," asked Selena. "So do you…perhaps have experiences of hunting?"

"Oh, yeah!" remarked Mrs. Johnson. "Do you know how to handle non-anthropomorphic animals? Like cows and pigs?"

That was a too familiar feeling. Even though it had been more than a year since my last hunt, it was back then when things were simple with my squad. I smiled to myself, remembering the humid dust blowing in my face as I ran, the laughter and cackle from my squad mates as we charged close to our target and the rough bruises left from tackling it to the ground.

"Back before, it was a team effort," I said humbly. "And then, one of us who could wield a sword would be given the honor to slay the ox for dinner."

Muerte's left ear flicked upwards. "Did you get the honor at times?"

"Yes? Though, I leave it up to the blade experts. I like using my taser more."

"Shocking!" said Gabriel, nearly standing up in unrestrained hype. "Was there lots of blood when it happened?"

"What?!" I exclaimed, dropping my fork and spoon. "Hold your tongue. We got kids listening to this!"

Almost everyone wasn't fazed by this. And yet, Juan was scolded a little for saying a 'swear word'. Both Molly and Valentina let out a snicker, nodding in agreement. Tuesday was switched off by this, groaning before taking a long sip of her drink. Mrs Johnson rubbed the back of her head sheepishly while her husband watched on in skepticism.

"C'mon, we're not that young," cooed Elicia.

"Mr. Obsidian makes a good point, children," said Selena.

"Is it disconcerting to see this kind of thing in hunting?" I asked.

"No offense, but you're a mercenary," pointed out Juan. "You killed a lot of things before."

"I don't look at my handiwork like it's art."

Juan's eyes widened in surprise. "Oooh. We'll see about that."

"He gets to be a good hunter out there and doesn't even need to go school to get a license for a gun?" said Camilo, sounding envious.

"Ugh," grunted Tuesday. "And get all that dirt in your hair? What about your hair, Obsidian?"

"Hey, I make a couple of clean shots, Tuesday," claimed Molly.

"Touche."

"Yeah! I want to grow up being a hero!" chirped Estella.

"Me too!" said Epsilon. "And look fabulous!"

Gabriel guffawed, standing up "Well, kids, to do that, you would have to do it like we did it. And Obsidian, may this tale let you know that we are resilient, yet we are pragmatic in our choices."

"Oh no, not again," said Elicia, covering her eyes.

"It's the most horrific and lucky experience I ever get," narrated Gabriel in a thicker accent, picking up a spoon like it was a conductor's stick. "Back then, I didn't have a team. I don't believe in luck or karma, but I believe in good timing. That time when I had to take down a bear that was actively attacking the campers at a camp park. I searched tirelessly for it with a rifle and a spear clipped to my belt. Though, I wasn't allowed to get ready when it attacked once I came into its hunting ground."

Many of the Johnsons didn't want to hear this, looking bored. Even the kids with Epsilon miming his father, waving his fork around in the same manner as his uncle. Molly's branch was neutral, making themselves comfortable to hear the story again. Camilo, on the other hand…

"And there, I could feel its saliva dripping over me. His mangled fur was drenched in the blood and honey he soaked himself into, his eyes dead-looking like a zombie, his teeth a set of blades yet disjointed like an unfinished chopped tree stump. I drew my spear and-"

"SLICK!" yelled Camilo loudly, standing on his chair. "Cut right across the throat! Blood! Blood everywhere! Blood spilling over my father's beautiful face!"

Like a theatre performance, he held his cup near his neck and poured out his juice. Complete with pretending to gurgle. It seemed that his narration became the main highlight for everyone, getting the three kittens not to look bored anymore.

"And then down his rifle goes into the bear's throat! BOOM! CRACK! BEDAZZLE! Messy bits were blown from the top of his head!"

Tuesday shook her head. "You are so gross."

"Oh, that's my favorite part!" said Gabriel, disappointed that he didn't get to finish the story.

"Just make it more exciting!" said Camilo, jumping back into his chair.

"Gabriel, Camilo, stop trying to make this harder to tolerate," growled Mr Johnson.

"Oh, c'mon, brother," said Gabriel smugly. "You were there when you saw me finishing off the bear. It was anti-climatic! Even get to hang the bear's head at the main reception office. And you were nearly tempted to paint yourself in the bear's blood, weren't you?"

Mr Johnson rolled his eyes. "Until you stopped me."

I had a hard time processing all of this. "N-Neat! Therapy's fun."

Molly choked on her drink again, giving me a look.

"So, what do you think?" asked Gabriel with a grin.

If I had to be honest, it felt like he was making that story up to appear grand. I couldn't really imagine a normal civilian slaying a bear to bits. Maybe shooting it dead without further damage would be fine, but this was hardcore. The fact that Camilo finished it with a somewhat graphic depiction of the tale explained a lot.

It got me worried a little about these trigger-happy people.

Instead of saying that, I tried downplaying it to be nice. "Soldier to hunter, you defended yourself and didn't let it rush through your head. So, respect. Maybe you might make a good mercenary someday."

Gabriel laughed heartily. "Maybe, but I don't like the feeling of being an outlaw. I rather try to provide for my family and what's best for others. Today, I'm a humble fisherman with many fish to pull up."

Mr Johnson hummed, rubbing his chin. "Hmm, well, maybe you can be a fisherman someday. That's one way of honing your hunting skills. Molly nearly considered it."

I just smiled, shaking my head. "It's alright. It's nice that you guys like hunting. Though, it's not really my full interest. I think I'll take it someday. For now, I will just stick to paying my debt and helping people. It's the best I can do with being given a chance here."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but it must be how I said it without hesitance that convinced him. He sat back down in his seat, looking surprised about my response. Close to me, Molly smiled with admiration. Her father and I noticed this, the former cracking a small smile momentarily.

Next to him, Valentina watched me carefully. Regardless of the family already chattering in enthusiasm after Camilo's performance and my humble response, the elderly cat wasn't too convinced. She seemed concerned, like a mother bird watching her flock.

The rest of the dinner fell back into the family sharing what they had been up to lately. The dinner was good, but my mind was still on their conversations. Watching as they traded stories and laughs and annoyed hisses. Becky bragged a little about winning the English Teacher of the Year Award at the school she worked at, Juan shared some pictures his kids made, Muerte told a sinister story of what he found in his letterbox…

It was…wholesome.

And not a single bite felt too empty. Fully drawn into their talk, I felt like I was part of the table. Getting to have my response as well to elicit agreements and chuckles.

Molly was lucky to have a family of her own.

A few minutes later, I pulled up the 'toilet break' card and was excused. Strangely, Valentina asked to go to the toilet as well. Wanting to help, I offered her to take my hand and let me take her to the bathroom despite her protests. I thought it would be a good way to show that I enjoyed my time here and wanted to be a good guest to Molly's family.

However, once in the dark hallways with minimal lighting, her hand slipped away from mine, walking independently behind me.

"It seems that you have been around with Molly for quite a while," she said, stopping suddenly. "She seems a little happier than usual."

"It's just seven visits with her so far," I said. "Is Molly good at home with you?"

"She can be reclusive, but she's a good girl," said Valentina, still standing in her place. "I'm still surprised she chased that dream of being an agent. I disapprove heavily of the family tradition of hunting. It's not even part of the culture of where we come from before."

I stopped, realizing that she didn't really want to use the toilet. Molly's voice popped into my head, remembering her first explanation about using guns and Valentina's apparent distaste for them. Something about guns made for monsters.

"Hmm, heard that you say we shouldn't rely on using guns too much," I said sardonically. "That I can say the same thing."

"Not like I can stop them eventually," said Valentina, a freckle of annoyance crossing over briefly. "You saw what happened with little Gabriel and his family."

"And his son as well? He was playing his game a little too loudly."

"I know, right?" said Valentina, hanging her head in an unmannerly childish way. "Forgive me for saying this, but I think today's generation is too wrapped up with their PS4s and X-Boxes and phones."

For once, I felt immense relief that someone somewhat saw the same thing as I did. "Preaches to the choir. Well, I don't think they are stupid. I'm just…confused with why they want to do the things I did by looking it up on the 'wifi'. A bit absurd there."

"Generations grow up fantasizing a lot," said Valentina matter-of-factly. "And the more they know, the more they want to do to be 'hip'. You don't seem to be that way."

"Reminds me too much of before. I'm not used to it here."

At first, Valentina had been courteous to me, but in a couple of seconds, it slowly turned into the same skeptical look she kept giving me before. She sighed, leaning against the wall.

"Obsidian, be honest with me," she asked. "When you were a mercenary, did you enjoy killing? Using your hunting skills on others? Five on your belt already."

I should have expected it, but she said it out of nowhere like it was nothing. Some of the family already knew. Saying it alone with me, away from the others, was a huge confrontation. Without thinking, I pulled off my bandanna to get rid of my rough appearance.

She didn't let it up, tapping her foot impatiently.

I knew that some wouldn't be too happy about my crimes lately. However, I didn't dwell that much on the people I murdered a long time ago. Nevertheless, it was easy to quickly pull up information from what happened before. I remembered the first time when I was a little shocked over what I did, blood blending into my dark fur. But in the next four murders, it felt like…nothing.

I winced to myself. Even when trying to remember the victims, all of them were from rival gangs who tried to attack my squad. It was all business. However, what was left was uneasiness towards what I did, yet a part of me didn't think too much about their deaths.

"It's not something I enjoy looking back on," I said, trying to mask my growing anxiety.

"But you look fine," pointed out Valentina.

I grunted. "Maybe I'm a little bit of a sociopath-"

"Or you're just detached from your victims?"

"Whenever I think about it, I think of other ways to settle the score, even when it was clear there wasn't." My tail instinctively wrapped around my legs. "In the end, it was just business and I didn't have a reason to spare those five back then."

Valentina huffed a little. The air was growing a little warmer. It could be just me on how I was seeing this. The elderly cat took a couple more steps but kept her distance from me. She retained her gentle walking, presenting a presence of taking the upper hand.

"OK, so you got used to it," she said. "That's a problem. Have you thought of what your parents would think of you?"

That answer got my fur standing up. "I don't have…a blood family."

Valentina crossed her hands. "Are you lying to me? I'm not gonna fall for a stereotype. I know delinquents who run away from their-"

"I-I'm not making it up," I said, trying not to sound provoked. "I can't imagine what my parents would think of me like this. I mean, nobody gets to when you live in the wasteland. Maybe if they stayed here, they wouldn't die and show SOMETHING to me. Same goes for my dead-brained uncle who's already dead."

My ruby whispered to me, telling me to calm down. It only took three seconds for me to notice the green glitches around my body. Valentina wasn't fazed by the sight but kept her distance. Her firm expression changed a little, appearing pitiful to me.

I closed my eyes, shaking my head. I didn't need pity over having dead parents. I should be over it.

"Look, it doesn't matter if I have parents now," I growled. "So don't patronize me."

Valentina's eyes widened a little. "Anyone else who raised you up?"

A lump formed in my throat. "My squad did. Until they were killed…and when Zero chose to follow the wrong guy."

"And you left him there with what he has left?"

That question was too close for comfort. It got me thinking again about my near-unconscious attempt to discard everything I took from the Jackal Squad when moving here.

"Yes," I said, gripping my fists. "I-I mean, it was the right thing to do, right? He's obsessed with becoming the 'Ultimate Mercenary'. I have proof! Not like he still wants me around."

Valentina's expression shifted to a calmer and more thoughtful look as she silently analyzed my words.

"OK, so Zero is like a toxic parent or just a strict army commander," she summarized. "And the rest of your squad aren't?"

I only shook my head meekly, not wanting to say more.

Valentina nodded, slipping back to her firm look. With a sense of superiority, she held her position as the oldest and wisest in the room. I felt rather small again, a familiar feeling of whenever I was under the strict rule of an older mercenary or assassin. My ruby was right. She seemed to know more than I do.

"I'll be frank, I don't really like you," she said bluntly. "From what I can tell, I don't really approve of the crimes you did before. Though, it's wrong for me to feel jealous when you were accepted easily. You came here to Central City easily thinking it was for a 'better life'." She took a moment to grumble inaudibly under her breath. "It's only an illusion. Privilege is not granted but earned. My family worked hard for a life that would last. My daughter already fell for the American Dream despite the red flags. We nearly forgot how to keep the family together. A trap you must have fallen into."

I gritted my teeth. "I-I know. About this 'American Dream' thing and needing to fit in for a good life."

I would have brushed her off if it weren't for what Dave said earlier at Fiyero's house. About how 'upset' I was with the Lightning Bolt Society bumming into the life I tried having here. I was already growing stunted by trying to have a comeback since she wasn't wrong about nearly lost in this city and…

Did she imply I forgot my own previous family?

That I didn't care for my squad?

The fact that there were barely any lights in this hallway made me a little panicky. It didn't feel right. It felt like I shouldn't be here.

"I can do the hard work," I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking. "But…if you and your family don't want me around, I can go…"

"You cannot go because I'm not finished yet," said Valentina sternly. "I'm not making this warning lightly because you don't seem to understand what it takes to live here. But I can't really say the same to you as I did to my daughter since I'll take for now that you have a different background."

That acknowledgement was enough to let me stay longer. "I'm listening."

"Molly has her whole family, but she wants to try doing a few things independently. I understand why she works with G.U.N. Sometimes, I wish she would be safe, but she's growing older. She even thinks learning from them would protect our family."

"Good for her," I grumbled, crossing my arms. "And what does that make me? A freak?"

Valentina shook her head. "A lot of kids are orphans. Sometimes, they just exaggerate the positives of living in fortunate cities. My word wouldn't be the judge anyway since you say you don't have a blood family. What I can respect is the foundation that you built ever since G.U.N accepted you in."

"And what is that so-called 'foundation'?"

Valentina smiled a little, somewhat in amusement. "You befriended many people. For a mercenary, you only let down your guard a little to listen, but not too long so that you know your pack well. Molly did tell me that you got through with Willy Walrus, saying that you acted like a big brother to him. I had suspicions, but you barely pulled a coward punch, regardless of your probation."

I wasn't getting where this was going. "And your point is?"

"My guess is you know your place for these people. You know what you want to do for them. I'm not really happy that you nearly got lost in the 'luxuries', but I respect you found a safe ground with the necessary building blocks. With those who stood by you. Building up a family is something more valuable. This pack should give you the remaining building blocks you'll need."

It took me a while to understand what she meant. At first, I thought I didn't understand the belief she spoke in another tongue. Getting past the denial that she was speaking another language, I thought through what she wanted to say to me.

When I got to acknowledging the 'building blocks', it told me that this was the same way how the Jackal Squad made me the person today.

How I survived in this world. The faint message of nearly being strong came to mind.

And coming here, I learned a lot from the people I met. And it didn't just stop at G.U.N since I reached out to Mitchell, stood by Willy Walrus when he needed my help and now that I got a taste of what my age generation would do here…she wasn't wrong that I managed to get along with a couple of people, even having an impact on some.

If her word were something to go by, then making friends here wouldn't be easy given my implications about the subtle social standings. Based on role in a school ground or in the criminal system. Despite my reputation, I managed to get along with people and this formed the healthy relationships Mr. Ghost promised me. Making a huge family in this city…coming from what I did in this land.

"I…wouldn't say that," I said quietly. "It's not a squad. I'm not sure…how long it would stick."

Valentina chuckled with a smirk. "You're growing too fast. Make the most of it." She dropped her smirk. "I'm serious. DON'T take it lightly. Much like how you paid attention to listening to my granddaughter. You did go out of your way to accompany her at her school reunion."

I cracked a lopsided smile. "I just want to be a good friend."

Valentina nodded. "I would have commented about you seemingly getting rid of your squad's culture, but it might be questionable in different standards. But the question is, who will you use those past training lessons for?"

She slowly turned to the pictures on the wall. It was the same ones I saw that told me about the Johnsons' shared interest in hunting and using long-range weapons. Every picture presented how Molly's family pursued their interest in hunting sports and exploring the forest, worn in pride and thrill. Her family saved that much here.

And I nearly didn't with mine. I felt jealous Molly got to take pictures of her whole family here. It only led to questions on what I could do from my time in the Jackal Squad to provide for the people I'm close with. I want to say that I'm already using my skills, but I think Valentina was looking for something more specific.

Something from my squad that was more valuable than just fighting.

AN: If you find Abuela Valentina a little harsh, forgive her. And given that she is two generations behind, she might be flawed in her thinking. However, her words will inspire Obsidian to use something he didn't think much of back during his time in the Jackal Squad. Something positive he didn't recognize for a while.

This chapter and Molly's family are inspired by 'Encanto' and 'Crazy Rich Asians', even from my own thoughts as I grow older, as it deals more with looking into family life and how different families try growing up in a new country.

It's a bit difficult to do, but I want to give this message for this chapter: not everything will last forever, but family will. And it's important to value it before your time's up. There are still things you can do on your own and what makes you happy. While it is not an excuse for conflicts and the young need to find their own path, in the end, family will still want to look after one another with the best they can help. This is something Obsidian didn't have, but now he has one here.

If this message is hard to decipher in this chapter or doesn't seem like the case, then my apologies if it's not the right way to do it.

Honestly, I was gonna make Molly's trigger-happy side a sole part of her. But I decided to make it really specific and extended it to her family being gun veterans and nuts. I thought it would be funny through Obsidian's perspective seeing this, especially when Uncle Gabriel and Camilo narrate a story that is definitely not inspired by the Pixar movie 'Brave'. :3

A couple of Molly's relatives are references to the following, with a good number related to Hispanic characters. Estella's and Epsilon's reference the coaches for Just Dance 2023 Edition', Becky's and Selena's reference Becky G and Selena Gomez, Muerte's references Death/The Wolf from 'Puss in Boots: The Last Wish' and Mayday's references Mayday Parker from the new 'Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse'.

Now, we conclude this small arc with the next chapter being a bit more action-packed (and darker, apparently). I hope that this chapter serves as a nice finish to the arc and give you insight into Molly's family! Let me know which Johnson relative got your interest the most!

Thank you for reading this chapter! If you enjoy this story, be sure to follow or favorite. More updates will come in soon! Make sure to leave a review with your thoughts. Constructive criticism is needed for improvements, but if any flames, then you'll end up being the fool.

Until next time, keep on rocking!