It's time for chapter two, as always DxD is property of its creator. Anything you don't recognize is of my creation.

Here's a key:

"Speech"

"Thought"

"Godly speech"

"Godly thoughts"

[Ddraig]

(Albion)

{Bahamut}

(Optional soundtrack cue)

Read, review, but no hate please.

Chapter 2: Changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes.

Robert Drake's morning routine was no different to any human. Get up, wash face, brush teeth, dread the march of time, and eat breakfast. The last was almost impossible considering the state of his refrigerator.

{Good morning, sleeping beauty!}

"FUCK ME!"

Robert nearly jumped out of his skin, clearly not expecting his grandfather to be awake at this time. The elder dragon began profusely apologizing.

"It's fine, just let me know when you're awake next time." Robert said clutching his chest.

{Well it ain't my fault you were asleep for two days, plus I did technically warn you I was awake.} Robert did a spit take after hearing how long he'd been out.

"I SLEPT FOR TWO DAYS AND YOU DIDN'T BOTHER WAKING ME!"

{I tried waking you, you were out like a light. You were having one of those dreams about being chased around the backrooms by an adult diaper clad Seth Rogan.}

A chill went down his spine when he remembered what had transpired in his dreams the night before. His eyes widened as he realized he was forgetting something something rather important.

"OH SHIT, JIMMY!"

Robert looked around frantically for his scaly Companion, Robert always considered Jimmy a roommate rather than a pet. The two of them were sapient reptiles, which meant calling him a pet would be considered problematic in today's society. It's the 2000s not the 1800s and Robert was happy for that.

It didn't take long for him to locate Jimmy. The alligator sat patiently by the door like a dog waiting for its owner to let it out so it could lay a "land mine" on the neighbor's lawn. Jimmy didn't fly that way but the resemblance was noteworthy.

"Sorry man, why don't you go out back and catch a bass or some shit. I gotta go to Tokyo today so please behave. And remember, no harassing the locals." Jimmy gave him a nod before galloping out the sliding door, off the deck, across the yard, and into the lake.

Robert shuffled his way back upstairs to put on a set of proper clothes. He came back down roughly five minutes later in cargo shorts, a Pantera t-shirt, and a denim vest. Not quite the definition of drippy but still a good look. He had hidden his dragon parts to better fit in with society, something he was going to be doing a lot of today.

Robert grumbled to himself, cursing the situation he was in due to his negligence. Because he didn't set his alarm clock, he had to smoosh his shopping spree in with grocery shopping. He had to spend double perhaps triple the amount of money he had planned. It wasn't a problem, he was technically rich. Being a dragon had its benefits, a hoard of gold and other valuables could be exchanged for large amounts of money.

Especially when your father is as loaded as he is.

Yes, Robert's father was also a dragon, a very powerful one at that, And powerful dragons tended to have huge hoards. And when it came to a huge hoard, boy did he have one.

His father owned the entirety of Fort Knox.

And that was only a fraction.

Yes, the entirety of the United States' ,Ironically, reserve of gold didn't even belong to them.

Well, not really. See, Robert's father technically owned the United States. He wasn't some cryptic dictator that ruled from the shadows like a redneck emperor Palpatine. The United States was his territory, so he technically owned it, And if he hadn't the United States wouldn't have existed in the same context it does today. Without him being around the US would have likely still been a territory of the British empire. The Native Americans and their culture would have been entirety wiped out and replaced with Christianity. If it weren't for his father's presence the founding fathers probably wouldn't have had the idea to declare independence.

Yes his father could be considered a founding father, heck the founder of the founding fathers. He still had role in politics to this day, even if that role was relatively minimal.

Needless to say, Robert was rolling in the dough like Scrooge Mcduck. But it didn't mean he liked to spend it all. Dragons by nature were extremely frugal, but that didn't mean he wouldn't splooge every now and then. The only real problem was the sheer amount of stuff he would buy typically wouldn't fit in a car.

A realization hit him like a runaway eighteen wheeler, he had completely forgotten about one very minute but ever so important detail.

He could use magic.

His palm collided with his forehead, how could he have been so beautifully stupid. As a dragon, being a more supernaturally inclined creature, they had access to magic, even if they weren't as reliant on it as other species. What good was casting a fire spell when you could spit fire like Hans' Flammenwerfer. But he still had other, much more simpler spells.

He reached out and focused a small bit of mana into his fingertips. As he reached out space seemed to warp, his hand gradually sank into the air to the point it looked like someone had crudely photoshopped his arm off. He felt something and grabbed on before retracting his arm out of the anomaly. Out of thin air he had produced a baseball bat, specifically an old Louisville slugger. A grin crept across his face as he examined the article of sports equipment.

"Honestly I forgot I could do this." He said as he put the bat back into the anomaly before closing it. Said anomaly was an access point of hammerspace, a personal pocket dimension used for storage. Many dragons, especially the more magic savvy, used hammerspace to hide their hoards. Robert was no different. One of the advantages of hammerspace was that whatever was placed in there was essentially frozen in time. For example if one placed a hot and fresh Popeye's chicken sandwich in there, after any duration of time the sandwich would be as hot and fresh as It was when it first stored.

It was for that exact reason that Robert learned the spell.

After all, having a supply of hot and ready chicken sandwiches on standby was paramount to a happy life.

It made Robert feel even dumber knowing that he could have literally pulled Sunday's dinner out of his ass. Instead he whipped up a snack from a 80s comedy that could've instantly clogged the arteries of a normal human within seconds of ingestion.

'Twas a big brain moment for the ages.

Robert coughed, it was a way to draw his own attention away from his own dumbassery, if that was even a word. He resigned himself to search for the keys to whatever atrocity of an automobile his father had scrounged up from Big Bill Hell's with his pocket change.

The cars keys in particular were hung conveniently on a hook in the kitchen with a small sticky note plastered on the wall nearby. Robert moseyed his way over to examine the keys to his new whip and read the accompanying note.

Hey champ, just wanted to wish you luck with your academic endeavors, your mother and I will support you in every way we can. I hope the car I bought you is to your liking, it's no Bugatti, but it should help you get some chicks. We love you and we miss you.

Love, dad

P.S. please try to at least make some friends.

Robert could help but smile a little. As cheap as he was, his father still went out of his way to help him, even if it was just a little. He neatly folded it and put it in his vest pocket. Looking back at the keys he couldn't really decipher what kind of car his dad got him. The only detail he knew was that it was a dodge.

Dodge meant many things but in this context it meant only two things. Either his dad bought him a truck or his dad bought him a muscle car. He was hopeful for the latter. However knowing his father, he expected an old 1992 dodge stealth with a replaced bumper that didn't match and was left to rust a fade in the Texas sun for god knows how long. Not to say the dodge stealth was a bad car, It was good for its time, but that time had long since passed. His father probably would have bought it off a trailer park kid for a pack of cigarettes.

Robert walked over to the garage entrance, putting on his sunglasses and mentally preparing himself for the disappointment that lay ahead. He held his breath as the door unlatched and swung open almost a little to dramatic for the situation.

What lay on the other side left him more gobsmacked then a teenager discovering pornography.

"Dad, forget everything I've said about you, I fucking love you."

It was a sunny morning in the town of kuoh. The light of the nearest star twinkleed off the lake like a mirror. The sound of cicadas rang out, punctuated by the calls of local birds and the noise of daily life. People went about their daily lives in relative peace.

Only for that peace to be interrupted.

VRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

The roar of a mighty v8 engine shattered the silence like the roar of a mighty tiger. A Dodge hellcat sped down the street, sporting a bright blue paint job with a orange racing stripe going down the middle. It was a marvel of American engineering that made all other cars on the road look lame in comparison. Behind the wheel of this monster was one Robert Drake.

(Play: Kickstart My Heart - Motley Crue)

Robert was as giddy as a kid on Christmas. The fact his father had forked over the amount of dough to actually buy him a hellcat was a greater miracle than the birth of Jesus. He had a maniacal grin on his face as he most likely broke every road safety law in Japan. The only reason he hadn't been pulled over was either that the police cars were to slow or they were too afraid to stop him.

Either way, more fun for him.

That morning, the sight of a Dodge Challenger catching mad air was a common sight.

(End song)

Getting to Tokyo was a breeze, made even easier by the suped up V8 under the hood of his new ride. All he had to do was follow the road signs which were in kanji or katakana. Robert didn't know why they had two different alphabets, it just made things needlessly more complicated. He had to go through the trouble of learning Japanese prior to his trip. Before he couldn't tell the difference between the two and would've called them chicken scratch. One miserable course on Duolingo later and he could read and speak both as fluently as as he could English.

Doesn't mean he chose to though.

Part of his rouse was to make his speech choppy, and purposefully mispronounce words in order come off more as a foreign tourist. Bahamut had commented on it as a genius plan.

The entirety of the trip involved him bombing down the highway, music turned up to eleven, and having a great time in general. His entire experience in Japan so far was mixed. The freedom he had was one of the good aspects. Freedom to do whatever he wanted, within the restraints of the law of course, without his mother or father breathing down his neck like a horror movie villain. It was a breath of fresh air, sure, but it always had its drawbacks. The locals had a habit of staring at him like he was some kind of exotic animal, it made him feel uncomfortable and rather annoyed.

He tried to avoid eye contact as much as he could.

Pulling into a vacant parking space and extracted himself from his vehicle, locking his car in the process. Sure Japan had a low crime rate, but he wasn't taking any chances. As he walked away he would look back every so often just to make sure.

{You're be paranoid, no one is going to steal your car.} bahamut chided.

"I just got it, you can't blame me for being a little protective of my treasures, I am a dragon after all." Robert rebuked telepathically. He would have to relegate the conversations with his elder to inside his head, lest he look like a schizophrenic. The locals already looked at him weirdly to begin with, it would just add fuel to the already California level fire.

He didn't feel like being moonknight today.

~Later~

As much as Robert didn't want to admit it, he was lost.

He had gotten rather turned around in the massive hoards of people walking around with seemingly no destination in mind. Didn't mean he had no sense of direction before. If one were to visit the Godzilla store in shinjuku at one o'clock, they would've seen a large foreigner with blue hair leave the store with a ludicrous amount of merchandise. Yes Robert was an absolute geek when it came to giant monsters but that didn't matter at the moment.

He had just exited a local grocery store only to find out he had no actual idea where the hell he was. He knew his general bearing thanks to his geomagnetic sense, another advantage to being a dragon. But there was one issue, that being the electromagnetic interference caused by the sheer amount of electronic devices, effectively jamming his internal navigation system.

Not only had he lost track of himself, but the time as well. The sun had begun to hang low in the sky, warning of the approach of dusk. Bahamut was working overtime try to help him backtrack and retrace his steps, which somehow made the situation worse.

{Take the first left, then take another left.}

"I already took that turn, it leads back to the way we came from." Robert was rather annoyed, the directions given to him by his grandfather either led him in circles or got him even more lost then he previously was.

{Okay, maybe it was a right.} Bahamut corrected. Robert took a deep breath, trying his damned hardest not to lose his shit. For the time being he just kept walking to wherever his tenant thought was the right way.

He paused and remembered he had a funny little gadget called Google Maps on his phone. Taking out his cellular device he was able to triangulate his location with relative ease.

"GPS says the fastest shortcut is down that dark, foreboding alleyway"

{I was just about to suggest that.}

"Sure you were." Robert approached the alleyway. As here rounded the corner, he caught sight of something that made his blood boil. For just meters away was a young woman surrounded by three men who clearly were up to no good.

The lady was clearly in distress, judging by her terrified visage. The men on the other hand, had predatory smiles, confirming Robert's suspicion of foul play. The fact this was even happening in broad daylight, moreover in a country with such a low crime rate, had him baffled.

Nonetheless, he decided to throw caution to the wind and do what Americans do best.

Intervene.

Yumeko's day had gone from bad to worse. First, she had been laid off of her job at the registry, and now she had been ambushed by a couple of creeps in an alleyway. Clearly Murphy's law was having a field day with her.

"Come on, lady, we just wanna show ya a good time." One of the creeps snidely. His voice was a slick as his oily hair. He was tall and lanky, like a some rickety old scarecrow one might find in the middle of Iowa.

"Yeah, we're just trying to have good time too." Another goon sneered, he was bald and ugly, almost stereotypical of a rapist. The third man had a buzz cut and looked on in amusement as his lackeys assaulted the woman, laughing a bone chilling chuckle as it continued.

The bald one reached out with his sausage-esque fingers, attempting to grab the fear stricken woman. She couldn't even scream, only a pathetic whimper escaped from her throat. However her silent pleads seemingly went unanswered as the ugly ones fingers approached her "state line".

However, she had no idea her pleads were about to be answered.

"AYOOO, WHAT THE FUCK."

The tension was shattered by a thunderous exclamation. All of the participants whipped there head in the direction of the voice, coming to a stop at a figure at entrance of the alley. The figure was tall and well built, sporting a denim vest and cargo shorts. His eyes were obscured by a pair of aviator sunglasses. He was very clearly a foreigner.

"Mind your business, Gaijin, this has nothing to do with you!" One of the goons snapped. The scowl on the foreigner only deepened.

"Pretty sure it does, Bucko, rape is serious crime." The American retorted, cracking his knuckles in a menacing gesture. Yumeko was shocked, not only had a complete stranger showed up, but by the look of it he intended to fight for her well being. "Now, we can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. The choice is yours."

"You bastard, you don't know who yo-"

SMASH

The lanky one was interrupted by a brick hitting him square in the jaw, knocking him flat on his ass. The other two mooks looked on in shock before the foreigner bum-rushed the the ugly one, who grabbed an empty bottle to defend himself. He never stood a chance, for the interloper swiftly delivered a hard knee to the gut, followed by a devastating left hook to the throat. The man picked him up and began repeatedly bashing his face against the wall.

BAM

BAM

BAM

BAM

BAM

blood stained the wall as the larger man peeled the smaller, uglier man's face off the side of the building. His visage was marred with cuts and bruises, his nose was broken in several places, and he was missing several teeth. Yet, somehow he looked more handsome than he had been before.

the lanky looking man attempted to get up, only to be knocked unconscious by a swift yet powerful curb stomp from the foreigner. Yumeko looked on in disbelief as two of her tormentors lay beaten and bloody, strewn across the alleyway. She was ripped back to reality when she was yanked to her feet, the sensation of cold metal being pressed against her temple.

"Don't move, or I'll blow her brains out!" The third man, who looked relatively normal compared to his lackeys, had recovered from his shock. He was now holding her hostage in an attempt to gain some form of advantage. "I'm with the Yakuza, I won't let you get away with this!"

The man regarded him with a confused look before responding.

"Damn, that's crazy, but I don't remember asking."

The gangster gritted his teeth, jamming his revolver harder into the side of Yumeko's head. Tears leaked from her eyes, as she silently pleaded for her life.

"Do it then, guns aren't for making half baked threats. Guns are tools of war, made for killing."

The gunman's hand trembled, the foreigner's words seemed to stoke fear within him. Yumeko on the other hand was already giving up hope, the dire situation seem to be taking a toll upon her psyche. But deep within her she still prayed to whatever god that listened to get her out of this, whether it be death or something else.

"Now, what I wanna know is do you have to guts to commit?"

The interloper's words were like ice, giving chills to all who listened. The two men stared each other down, Mexican standoff style, waiting for the other to make a move.

"Well do ya, punk?"

The tension shattered like a child's shin being hit by the broad side of a razor scooter. The gangster dropped his firearm and his hostage and booked it for the alley exit. Only he never made, he was sent face first into the pavement, courtesy of of a well aimed glass bottle. The pitcher in question being the foreigner who had a look of indifference plastered across his face.

Yumeko burst into tears, she thanked the heavens for not being just another statistic.

"Why didn't you fight back?"

"T-thank you, thank you so mu-huh?" Yumeko paused mid-grovel, her train of thought being derailed by her savior's bizarre inquiry.

"You could have taken them, why didn't you fight back?" He asked again with a dead serious face.

"Oh my god, he's serious." This shouldn't have surprised her, it was obvious, being a foreigner meant he was completely unaware of Japan's societal norms. It only caught her off guard was how blunt he was with it. He seemed to recognize his mistake, not that she could tell due to his eyes being obscured by sunglasses.

"You know what, forget it. What matters is you're safe and those bozos are dealt with."

He helped her to her feet, and gave her a smile. The smile was a warm one, it reminded her of how her grandfather used to smile. She got a better look at him, an unnoticeable blush dusted her cheeks when she saw how swol he was. She bet he could easily bench a hundred, maybe 150 on a good day. She was broken out of her thoughts when the man continued.

"In case something like this ever happens again, use this." He handed her a small can of what looked to be pepper spray. He then bid her farewell before slaughtering towards the exit, refusing to elaborate any further.

"Wait!" The man paused mid-stride, turning his head back to the woman he saved from certain doom. "I never got your name."

"My name is Deez, have a great day, ma'am." He then continued to the exit and disappeared around the corner.

Yumeko stood there, still processing the situation and likely trying to figure out how she was going to explain it to her parents. She sighed to herself eternally grateful of the American.

"Thank you Deez, I hope we meet again."

{Was that really necessary?}

"No, but you have to admit it was funny." Robert responded as he unlocked his car.

{Fine... you did get a chuckle out of me, but I don't really think it was appropriate to crack a Deez Nuts joke after a woman was nearly killed. But other than that minor grievance I'm very proud of you. Not only did you deal with those miscreants without causing a bloodbath, you also went out of your way to prevent it from recurring.}

"I try my best." Robert replied out loud, considering he was in his car and not in public. He turned over the ignition and backed out of his parking space. "Anyway, while you were dozing off in my head, I bought some genuine Japanese food, along with the basic necessities."

{Ooh do tell.}

"So I got some of this stuff called moochie or motchy, I think it was mochi. The stuff hits different, it's bussin on military time." He went on as he pulled onto the highway headed back to Kuoh. "It's like chewing and sticky, the guy there gave me a ball of ice cream wrapped in the stuff in it. It was possibly one of the greatest things I've eaten in a while. The way they make is the craziest thing I've ever seen. They take rice, put it in a bowl, and beat the ever-living fuck out of it with a hammer until it's this sticky mushy shit, it's pretty fucking wild."

Bahamut listened idly as his grandson and host went on rambling about rice and rice-based products. Perhaps he listened a little to long.

"I wonder what would happen if I deep fry it."

Before any of the two knew it, they were back in Kuoh. The automatic lights greeted the muscle car as it backed into the garage. Robert got out and opened the trunk and brought the copious amounts of bags into the kitchen. On his way he opened the sliding door through which jimmy, who had spent his day in the lake doing whatever the fuck alligators do in their spare time.

"Hey jimmy I got you something at the store today." He began, pulling out a tomahawk steak and tossing it to the crocodilian. Jimmy promptly caught and promptly scampered back outside with a notable pep in his step. "I guess that's a thank you."

Robert made himself Macaroni and cheese, ate a bowl of it and put the rest in the refrigerator for later. It was a a relatively warm night. He made the last minute decision to go for an evening jog, not just for the exercise but to familiarize himself with the town of Kuoh itself.

he bid jimmy fair well before once again leaving the safety of his bungalow. He walked down the stone path leading to the sidewalk. He turned left when the paths intersected and went on his merry way.

~One hour later~

Robert had been out for an while, as such the sun had dipped below the sunset. However the ever-beautiful evening glow was still prevalent. He stopped a few times to snap a few quick photos with his phone. He had always liked sunsets, for one they were pretty, and they always punctuated the day whether it be a good one or bad. The sunset in his opinion represented nature at it's beautiful. Robert smiled as he watched the last light of the day slowly fade.

But that serenity was cruelly interrupted.

Robert's nose scrunched to an almost inhuman degree. There was a foul, pungent odor in the air that was only made worse by his own heightened sense of smell. It was sour with hints of sweetness, as scent Robert was all to familiar with.

Death.

Robert had wandered into the cargo district of Kuoh. It was an area primarily populated with warehouses that saw minimal usage or were outright abandoned all together. The wretched stench only got stronger as he approached a run down warehouse. Although faded and missing a few letters, Robert could still, although barely, make out what they read.

Kawanishi

If Robert was correct, Kawanishi was an airplane manufacturer from the twenties and went defunct at the end of World War Two. How this warehouse managed to stay in such good condition after ninety something years, he hadn't a clue. What actually mattered was what the fuck that damned smell was. Inwardly Robert hoped he'd find an unassembled warplane he could sell to the Smithsonian for a quick buck, something he could brag about to his family for however long it remained relevant.

CREEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAK

The rusted hinges of the nearly century old door grated at his ears as he slowly entered the old storage facility. The smell became unbearable, Robert nearly gagged as he was hit with a wall of thick, putrid air. The loud creak of the door wasn't the only thing he heard. He had to strain himself to hear it properly, but after a while it became clear as day.

"~Gooory gory what a helluva way to die CRUNCH ,gory gory what a helluva way to die~" Robert's heart damn near fell out of his ass. Someone or something was singing in the dark recesses of the warehouse. the song was sickeningly familiar but he couldn't place it. "~Gooory gory what a helluva way to die SQUISH, he ain't gonna jump no mooore~"

Something clicked in Roberts head, someone was singing Blood on the risers, and whoever was singing it was eating something while doing it. He couldn't see him, he knew it was a him due to the voice sounded very masculine, even with his dragon vision. He could definitely see a large blob of heat moving around thanks to his pit organs, but he could not make out any further details.

CRACK

Robert froze, a feeling of dread permeated within as he felt the all too familiar sensation of eyes on him. In an attempt to get a better look at what lurked in the darkness before him, he had inadvertently stepped on a piece of glass. Only it wasn't glass, looking down Robert had to hold back a scream, what he thought was a shard of glass was in fact a blood soaked rib. No more than a foot away was a skull, a human skull.

"Seems the second course is here early, no matter I've got room for seconds" the voice was slick like oil and was punctuated by a strange clicking, not unlike that of the predator. "You don't smell all that good, but I'm sure you taste delightful."

Robert saw movement in the shadows. Eventually the owner of the voice revealed itself. Steping or rather scuttling out of the darkness was something that would give John Carpenter nightmares. Whatever it was, used to be human. While waist up it could pass for human if one squinted, the lower half had features of both a centipede and a scorpion. The creature was fifty percent man and fifty percent arthropod, but to Robert it was one hundred percent hideous.

The creature shambled along on far too many pairs of legs that were attached to a segmented lower torso, which was around the length of a car. Each leg was tipped with a sharpened point. At the end of the elongated torso was a scorpion's tail or telson that was curled into attack position. The end of the tail possessed a six inch railroad spike of a stinger, the tip of which oozed a purple venom that seemed to dissolve the concrete it dripped onto.

the human part was pale and boney, resembling something more vampiric than human. The arms were elongated, ending in clawed hands. Down near the waist, where man and beast were conjoined, sat a pair of crablike claws. The face was the gnarliest part. It had bloodshot eyes, partially obscured by a head of long, untamed, and matted hair. The mouth was full of needle-sharp teeth, framed by a pair of pincer-like chelicerae in places of regular cheeks.

However what confirmed the creature's identity to Robert was the pair of jagged bat wings that protruded at awkward angles from its back. It was no science experiment gone wrong, rather it was wretched refuse of the underworld, a rogue agent of hell.

A stray demon.

The stray examined him, chattering it's mouthparts together, creating the clicking noise from earlier. Robert could help but cringe in disgust when he saw a drop of drool fall from its mouth. Nonetheless, he remained vigilant and stood his ground.

"You're one ugly motherfucker." Robert stated flatly, subconsciously readying himself for a second serving of violence for today. The demonic creature let out a laugh.

"ARGARGARGARGARGARGARG!"

or what could be interpreted as a one. "A meal like you should know when to be silent."

the stray smiled an inhuman grin before lashing out with its stinger. Robert merely sidestepped the attack, right before dodging a slash from the left. The attack left the stray wide open, something he was going to abuse the shit out of. He retaliated with A devastating punch to the gut and a right hook for added damage. The stray was sent on the back foot as it spat out a glob of blood before sending another face splitting grin his direction.

"You're a slippery one aintcha. No Matter I'll-"

BOOM

the stray didn't get a chance to finish. Ah fist sent it backwards into the wall of the warehouse. Robert dusted himself off, he knew the demon wasn't dead. However he wanted to finish this fight, as fun as it was, quickly. Tomorrow was an important day and he wanted to be well rested for his trip to Fukuoka.

"YOU LITTLE SHIT, YOU INTERRUPTED MY MONOLOGUE, I'LL KILL YOU!"

The stray had recovered and by the look of it, not too happy about being turned into the world's ugliest punching bag. Once again it attempted to skewer him on its stinger, but this time around Robert caught the appendage about a foot away from his face. The tip was an inch away from giving him another eye socket. The stinger still oozed the violet colored venom, but that was subject to change. With an almighty yank-

RIIIIIPPPPP

The stinger was torn clean from the tail.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH, MY BEAUTIFUL STINGER, I'LL KILL YOU FOR THAT!" The stray screamed and wailed as it flailed the stump around, spraying crimson ichor everywhere.

"Don't care, plus you're fugly." Robert spat as the rogue devil painted the interior of the warehouse red. Robert let out a tired sigh. "I don't have time for this, JIMMY!"

Without warning, the nearby wall caved in, revealing the titular alligator. Apparently, he had swam through the sewer and popped out the closest manhole.

"JIMMY, GETTEM!"

"Is that an Ali-"

Faster than one could say "Steve Harvey", jimmy's size grew to that of a pickup truck. The now truck sized alligator proceeded to bum-rush the stray like a runaway locomotive. Said stray was helpless as within a split second the jaws of death closed around its head and torso. Fighting was useless, with the absence of its main weapon, the rogue demon was little more than a chew toy for the colossal crocodilian. Jimmy performed a death roll, the now very dead stray was torn to shreds and the warehouse was given a second coating of scarlet.

"That's enough, Jimmy, drop it." The reptile reluctantly dropped the now severed head and shoulders of the stray, a look of absolute horror still etched into its deformed face. Robert took a few steps closer, casting a spell to clean himself of the blood and entrails he'd be sprayed with.

Tonight was another shower night.

Looking closer, he saw a glint of metal, he grabbed it and pulled it off. Upon closer inspection, his blood ran cold. What lay in his hands, covered in blood and drool, were dog tags. Normally on a good day he would have killed a stray as easily as making a sandwich, but due to today's circumstances were different. He was lucky Jimmy had already eaten or he wouldn't have stumbled across this hair-raising detail.

He briskly stowed the dog tags away in his pocket, he would talk to his father about it at a later date. For the time being he decided it was in his best interest to get the hell out of dodge before someone decides to rear their ugly head. He gestured for Jimmy to do the same. The alligator promptly shrank and scampered back down the manhole from which he appeared, making sure to close the lid with his tail.

Tonight would be a shower night for both of them.

Robert up and left, he wasn't sticking around to see who else would show up, most likely another denizen of hell. Robert closed the warehouse door behind him and proceeded to fuck off due east back to his house, all the while whistling Drunken Sailor in an attempt at self assurance. He was going to need it for tomorrow.

~Ten minutes later~

No more than ten minutes after Robert had left, the old Kawanishi warehouse once again receiving visitors. A red pentagram blazed to life as four figures spontaneously appeared within it. The group consisted of three females and a singular male. One of the three women of the group, likely the leader stepped forward and and spoke.

"Stray devil Crawford, for the crime of murdering your master and fellow peerage members, the underworld sentences you to death."

no response.

The leader seemed perplexed, more often than not, the stray would leap from the shadows and attack. Nine times out of ten, it would ultimately lead to the stays' demise. However something about the lack of a Hail Mary rubbed her the wrong way.

She gestured to her subordinates to search the building, which they did post haste. A mere ten seconds passed before she got her answer.

"President, you might want to take a look at this." The sole male of the group called out. Behind a few shipping containers lay what she could only describe as pure carnage. What probably used to be the stray devil they we're looking for looked as if it had been thrown into a wood chipper. Blood, organs, and limbs were strewn everywhere like some macabre art piece. Her subordinates had to stop themselves from gagging. one of them, a female on the shorter side. went behind a crate to empty her stomach.

The leader looked at the expression on the stray's still intact face, examining its horrified visage with her own equally disturbed look. Whoever or whatever did this not only made a mess of the stray but the warehouse, judging by the car sized hole in one of the walls leading outside.

"Oh my, I'd like to meet whoever did this, perhaps they should be punished for stealing our quarry." The other female, likely second in command, said almost seductively. Yellow arcs of electricity danced across her fingers as she spoke. Her superior turn to her sending her a disapproving glance.

"We should inform Sona, she might have some idea about what the hell happened here."

And cut.

Firstly, I'd like to wish everyone a happy, although late, Halloween. I've be struggling with the all too prevalent writers block. That shit is more frustrating than they tell you.

Now, for some behind the scenes bullshit none of you asked for but are getting anyway. I decided to put a spin on the rape intervention trope where the protagonist saves the love interest from being sexually harassed. But this time around instead of some white knight that swoops in and woos the lady, it's some random American guy that shows up, beats up the baddies, asks why the victim didn't bother defending herself, cracks a very inappropriately timed joke, refuses to elaborate any further, and leaves.

I understand sexual harassment is a very serious topic, I do not condone it under any circumstances. I wish to clarify I am not making fun of sexual harassment as a whole, I was merely poking fun at how it is used as a plot device to introduce a main love interest. I sincerely apologize if it offended anyone.

I conceived Robert as a character that is culturally uninformed, a well meaning person that may come across a culturally insensitive, a lot like many Americans in real life. I've heard rumors that in japan it's traditional for women to be quiet and meek, which if true is kinda fucked up. To a culturally uninformed American, like Robert, who are used to woman having more of a voice in society, this would be frankly puzzling. Culture shock is a real thing.

Now with the controversy and any misconceptions dealt with, No, Yumeko will not be in the harem. Yes, it's not a DXD story without a obligatory harem. However I have already selected the ladies that will be with our boi. Please do not lobby me in the comments to add a specific character, I've already made my decisions. Plus, Issei needs some Coochie too, can't leave a guy hanging, even if he's a menace to all women.

Since Halloween was coming up while I was writing, I made the based decision to add a few horror elements to the stray encounter. Of course the dog tags will play a part later in the story, I don't intend to leave any plot holes open. And yes, the group I teased at the end is exactly who you think they are.

The title of this chapter is a reference to the hit Jimmy Buffet album of the same name, released in 1977.

Canon begins next chapter.

Read and review, you know the deal, thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Peace out.