As Mick stood there, staring fearfully at the two Imps looking back at him, he began to piss himself with fright. Granted, he may have been able to hold his own in a fight, but even he couldn't dodge bullets at point-blank range. And something in the pit of his stomach told him that this was exactly what was going to happen if he didn't get the fuck out of here. However…

"WOO-EEE!" the burliest of the two Imps cried out. "Now that there's some mighty fine wrangling there, partner!"

…

"Huh?"

Needless to say, Mick was not expecting a reaction like that. Even less so when the two Imps started laughing and congratulating him for his feat.

"You sure as hell showed that hog who's boss, boy," the burly Imp chuckled. "Only a REAL man can take something like that on without hesitation."

At those words, the second Imp, one who appeared to resemble a rattlesnake in some areas, added his own two cents with a smirk.

"And with his bare hands, no less," he said. "Haven't seen a good tussle like that in a while."

However, the more the two Imps talked, the more confused Mick became. They were… impressed by how he killed the Hellhog? From first impressions, it looked more like they would sooner gut him than give him praise. The burly mustached Imp looked as though he could break bones with his biceps alone, and the snake-like Imp looked like the villain from every western film ever made, ready to pull out his pistols at any given time. In any case, the Cat Demon thought it best to play along.

"You're not… angry that I killed your pig?" he asked, raising an eyebrow from beneath his mask.

Once again the burlier Imp chuckled.

"HA! Fuck, no!" he declared. "Son, around here we appreciate the strength and determination of a Demon no matter what he does, so don't fret over it. Besides we were gonna gut one of these fuckers for supper anyway."

So basically all Mick did was lighten these Imps' workload? It may have been a dumb stroke of luck, but the Cat Demon wasn't gonna complain about it.

"Say, you ain't from around these parts are ya?" the burly Imp continued, taking in Mick's appearance. "Yeah, you're one of them Sinners from the Pride Ring!"

Mick couldn't help but roll his eyes at that.

"What gave it away?" he joked, earning himself a small chuckle from the two Imps.

"Don't get a lot of your kind around these parts," the snakish imp commented, looking at the Cat Demon with intrigue. "Hell, don't think I've ever seen one of y'all at all down here."

"I'm a special case," Mick elaborated, not really sure how else to put it.

In all honesty, the Cat Demon found himself a little baffled. First Daisy and now these guys? Aside from those gun-heads who tried to shoot him, everyone Mick meets seems to be taking the fact he was a Sinner in the Wrath Ring surprisingly well. Was it just common courtesy to go with the flow down here?

"So what brings you and your critter down to Wrath?" the burly Imp asked curiously.

It was only then that Mick suddenly remembered why he came here in the first place. Between everything with the Hellhog and the new Imps, he had almost completely forgotten his task.

"I'm just here to make a delivery," he answered, scanning the area before spotting the briefcase not far from the pen. "One moment, please."

Sharing a small shrug, the two Imps had no objections as they stepped aside and allowed Mick to climb back over the fence. Placing Snowflake at his feet, he then walked over to the briefcase and picked it up, reading off the name attached to it before looking back towards the two Imps.

"Would either of you happen to know a... Mr Striker?" he asked, earning himself a small chuckle from the snake-like Imp in particular.

"Yeah, that'll be me, son," he replied, much to Mick's surprise. "Bring it over here."

As surprised as Mick was, however, Mick had no objections nor any need to ask questions before walking over and handing him the briefcase. Frankly, after everything he had gone through up to this point, he just wanted it taken off his hands as quickly as possible.

"So what, you some kind of messenger boy, or something?" The burly Imp asked as he watched the briefcase exchange hands.

"Not exactly," Mick answered with an honest shrug. "I work for this Royal Family topside, and they sent me down here with this thing… Though, if I'm being honest I can't imagine why the Lady of the house would want me to give this to you. No offence, but I can't imagine that particular Goetia giving a package to... someone beneath her. Again no offence!"

Feeling as though he had said too much, Mick couldn't help but cringe as he expected Striker to take offence to his statement. Thankfully the Imp seemed to just take it in stride.

"Trust me, kid, none taken," he chuckled. "Technically speaking, this ain't even for me."

"Huh?" Mick uttered, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm a go-between just like you are," Striker elaborated, adding a little more context to his reply. "Got a buddy of mine working up at Satan's palace, and he's been asked to get this here case from ME after the upcoming festival's over."

Mick may not have known what festival Striker was referring to, but now he was starting to get the gist of how the exchange he found himself a part of was playing out. If Mick understood correctly, he was basically passing over the contents of that briefcase in a small chain of royal employees, each one promising to keep it safe until it reaches its destination. Sounded needlessly complicated, but Mick wasn't about to give himself a headache by trying to figure out the mindset of upper crust Demons.

"Jo? What's all the commotion out here?"

It was at that moment that two more Imps came walking out of the house. One of them was a middle-aged woman with greying spiky hair, wearing standard country getup including a white shirt, brown gloves and a red bandanna around her neck, while the other looked much younger with long black hair tied back with a bandanna, skin that was a slightly darker shade of red and horns that had thicker stripes than most female Imps. Upon seeing them, the burly Imp chuckled as he ushered them over

"Oh, nothin' to worry about honey," he said, talking to the elder of the two. "Just getting acquainted with the fella who just killed dinner for tonight… oh, by the way, I don't think we ever got your name."

Realizing that he had failed to properly introduce himself, Mick suddenly felt the urge to smack himself upside the head before choosing to rectify this mistake.

"Oh! Um... Mick Nikos at your service, sir," he said, giving the Imps a small bow of the head.

To his surprise, this greeting was met with another small chuckle.

"Quite the polite one ain't he?" the elder female Imp commented, causing Mick to blush under his mask.

"Hey now, none of that 'sir' crap," the burly Imp add, holding out his hand for a handshake. "The name's Jo, I run this place. And this here's my wife, Lin, and my daughter, Sallie May"

"A pleasure to meet ya," Lin greeted with a smile

"Howdy," Sallie May added with a sly smirk.

Mick couldn't put his finger on it at first, but there was just something at that moment about the way the younger Imp looked at him that sent a shiver down his spine. Either way, he chose to ignore it for now.

"Say, here's a thought for ya," Lin spoke up as her face brightened up and an idea popped into her head. "Why don't y'all stay for dinner? It'd be a shame to have killed something and not get to eat it."

Seriously? Mick kills a pig and now the people who owned it are offering it up on a platter for him drizzled with gravy? Admittedly, dinner did sound great right now, but for some reason, it didn't feel right to impose.

"As grand as that sounds, ma'am, I'm afraid I must decline," he replied, much to everyone's shared disappointment. "I really should get back to the Pride Ring before I get an earful from my employer."

Sallie May once again smirked at that.

"Bossman running ya ragged, eh?" she asked playfully, giving Mick cause to let out a small chuckle.

"As much as it has its drawbacks, my job does have quite a few perks that I can't get anywhere else," he said, shaking his head with contentment. "So I gotta do everything I can to keep it, ya know?"

Of course, what Mick didn't say was that the cons severely outweighed the pros of working in the Goetia household. The pay was mediocre at best, the living conditions were laughable and despite how much he liked them, all of Mick's coworkers were either crazy or REALLY crazy… in all honesty, the one perk that stood above them all… was the fact that he got to see Octavia on a daily basis. In fact, the very thought of it made the Cat Demon's face heat up beneath his mask regardless of how little he understood why.

"Heh, I can respect that," Jo commented, easily picking up on Mick's sense of loyalty despite his covered face. "A man's gotta do what he's gotta do, as they say."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," Striker added, his grin ever giving Mick reason to shudder.

"Well, if you're ever in the Wrath Ring again, the offer still stands," Jo continued. "Hell, maybe we can even give ya a job here if them Royals get too much to handle."

Mick couldn't help but smile and nod his head at that.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said before scooping Snowflake back up and placing her on his shoulder once more. "Well, I'd better just take my little pet here and get out of your-"

Suddenly, Mick's mind went completely blank when a certain realization hit him at full force, something which the Imps standing near him were too quick to notice.

"Uh… you ok there, darling?" Lin asked, understandably concerned when she saw the Sinner freeze up in such a way.

Alas, Mick was too dumbfounded to utter a single word in response. After everything that had happened today, he had completely forgotten one crucial detail about his arrival in the Wrath Ring, specifically the fact that he only got here because he read off a spell Stella gave him… a spell that he no longer has!

Whether it was because he dropped it during his initial fall or because it burned up in the vortex itself, the fact remains that without that spell… the Cat Demon was completely screwed! Subconsciously twitching his left eye in both shock and utter bafflement, he eventually managed to find the mental capacity to force out a single question.

"Uh... sorry to ask, but you wouldn't happen to have a Hellphone charger by any chance?"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'M STUCK HERE!?"

By the time Mick's Hellphone had enough time to fully charge thanks to Sallie May's assistance, it was already early evening. As luck would have it, despite being in a different Ring, he could still get a connection back to Pride… However, when he eventually managed to ring up Octavia's phone and inform her of his situation, he wasn't given any good news in the slightest.

"It's just as I said, Mick," the Goetia Princess replied from the other end of the call. "From what little info I got from my mum, you used a one-way transportation spell to get there, and you can't get back without another one."

At that moment, Mick had to resist the urge to kick the nearest Hellfowl at his feet in anger. Choosing to take his phone call outside, he thought it would have been a good idea to keep things private and avoid any unnecessary eavesdropping. However, if he received any more bad news today, no amount of walls would have been able to block out his screams of anger.

"Octi, please tell me you're shitting me right now," he said, his tone practically begging Octavia to say that nothing she said was true.

"Believe me, Mick, I wish I WAS joking," Octavia replied. "As things go right now, the only way you can get back to the Pride Ring is by the way you came. I'd try to bring you back myself but I'm not at all trained in magic yet."

"There has to be SOME other way," Mick argued, his voice sounding more desperate by the second. "What about that thing the Hellborns use? That elevator thingy."

"No go, Mick," Octavia retorted, shooting down the idea immediately. "If you tried using that, you'll have to explain why you were down there to begin with. Trust me, between all the magic bullshit and the security around that place, there is no way you'll be able to get on it without causing trouble for yourself."

"OH, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!"

At those words, Octavia had to pull the phone away from her ear to avoid feeling the full brunt of Mick's shouting. Not that she could blame him, of course. After all, he did have the right to be angry after everything he went through today. After discovering that the Cat Demon was summoned to see her mother, the Goetia Princess knew immediately that something wasn't right. As such, it was only natural that she would find her mother and demand some answers.

As it turned out, Stella made no effort to hide what she had done and told her daughter everything. After she had explained that she had sent Mick down to Wrath to make a delivery, Stella, of course, showed no concern on whether or not he actually made it back. If anything, the whole situation seemed to amuse her. Deciding not to give her mother the satisfaction of an argument, Octavia subtly demanded answers on how Mick actually could make it back, to which Stella answered by saying that Mick only needed to read off the spell she gave him once more… a solution which Octavia now found out to be impossible.

After leaving her mother to her own devices, all she could do then is head up to her room and dwell on what she had learned before skimming through a few books she had on hand. Unable to figure out a way to help Mick, the Goetia Princess eventually found herself screaming into her pillow in frustration until her Hellphone rang, after which she quickly smiled in delight when she saw who was on the caller ID. Still, as much of a relief it was to hear the Cat Demon's voice, the Goetia Princess truly wished it were under better circumstances.

"Look, I know it isn't ideal but there's nothing else that could be done," she explained, much to her regret. "I can't do portals yet, dad's gonna be busy for the next couple of days and don't even get me started with my mother."

"Busy with what exactly?" Mick asked, his curiosity peeking through his anger for a brief moment.

At that moment, an idea popped into Octavia's head at the same time a certain detail flashed through her memory.

"That's it!" she declared. "Mick, do you know anything about something called the Harvest Moon Festival?"

Given the sudden pause, before she got her answer, Octavia knew immediately that the Cat Demon had to have some recollection of it.

"Yeah, I've heard about that from the locals," he answered honestly. "What about it?"

"My dad attends it every year for some big showcase," Octavia elaborated. "If I can convince him to go find you and bring you back, we'll be laughing."

"But according to the locals that festival is the day after tomorrow," Mick pointed out. "You sure he can't get me sooner than that?"

"As I told you before, he's going to be busy until then," Octavia reminded the Cat Demon, choosing not to go into detail since she was sure a certain Imp was involved in her father's plans somehow. "Look, I know I'm asking a lot, but do you think you can hold out until then?"

Once again there was a small pause on the other end of the call, without any verbal response aside from Mick's irritated groan.

"Octi, I don't think you fully understand my situation here," Octavia heard him say, practically feeling the unease boiling over from him through the phone. "I have no money, no place to stay, and I was literally SHOT AT no more than 2 seconds after your mother sent me here!"

However, as bad as that sounded, Octavia still couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Mick… compared to what we went through when we first met, your situation should be a piece of cake," she pointed out. "Come on, where's that go-getter attitude I like about you, huh?

Octavia may not have realized it from where she was, but the moment she said that, Mick instantly blushed from beneath his mask.

"You know, you really don't play fair sometimes," he stated with a pout, earning himself a small laugh from the Princess.

"You know you like me," she retorted playfully, causing the Cat Demon to let out his own chuckle.

"Touché, Octi," he replied with a defeated sigh. "Alright, if that's how you think this'll help then I'm trusting your judgment on this one… I highly doubt it's gonna be easy though. The Imps here are a LOT more aggressive here than they are in the Pride Ring… I wasn't exaggerating when I said I was shot at, you know."

At those words, Mick heard Octavia let out her own sigh through the phone.

"Yeah. I heard they can be like that," she admitted. "Word of advice: I heard that strength and endurance is everything to those guys, so you might have to prove yourself… or something."

Mick certainly felt no need to argue against that particular statement. Ever since he got to the Wrath Ring, he noticed how insanely strong the locals seemed to be, especially those like Striker or Daisy… of course, the Cat Demon had NO intention of bringing her up into this conversation.

"Well, I've already killed a Hellhog today, so I'm off to a GREAT start on that one," he commented, once again giving Octavia cause to laugh. "In any case, thanks, Octi. It's nice to know I have someone looking out for me."

Mick may not have known, but hearing that, Octavia's face turned a deep shade of red at such flattery.

"H-hey, what are friends for, right?" she said, causing Mick to chuckle again.

"Indeed," he agreed. "Alright, I'll call you later once I've found a place to stay for the night."

"Understood," Octavia replied with a nod. "Good luck Mick. And… be careful."

Once again, the Goetia Princess smiled upon hearing the Cat Demon's soft laughter.

"I always am," he stated reassuringly. "Bye, Octi."

"Bye," Octavia sighed, looking down at her Hellphone with unease before reluctantly hanging up.

Hanging up his own phone, Mick let out a small groan as the reality of his situation began to sink in.

"Ugh... I am so fucking screwed!" he thought aloud, earning himself a small yip as Snowflake came out from the house and sat at his feet, giving her master a look of concern. "Don't patronize me."

Before long, Mick found himself sitting amongst over half a dozen Imps around a large dining table with Snowflake hiding under his chair. With no other option available to him, the Cat Demon was more or less obligated to accept Jo and Lin's offer to join their family for dinner. And boy, what a big family it was.

Aside from Sallie May, Lin and Jo must have had at least six more kids, all of whom seemed to be just as rowdy as Mick expected them to be. Still, company aside, it felt good to sit down after such a trying day, plus he was getting a decent meal out of it judging from the smell of the large platter Lin just carried in.

"M-mm, hog roast smells good, Ma," Sallie May commented, much to her mother's delight.

"Well, I should hope so," Lin boasted proudly. "Between my family recipe and Mick's clean kill, we got ourselves a prime cut of meat here."

Upon hearing his name being mentioned, Mick couldn't help but bashfully scratch the back of his head, to which Jo gave a hearty chuckle as he smacked the Cat Demon hard on the back as he came into the room.

"Hey, no need to be bashful, boy! You should be fucking proud!" he said, wrapping an arm so roughly around the Cat Demon, that he could have sworn he heard a rib crack. "Not every day one of those hard-shelled mother fuckers get strangled to death!"

At those words, Mick heard Striker chuckle from the other end of the table.

"He got a point kid," he said with yet another smirk. "Normally y'all need to drive a good blade right into its flabby neck, but you did it with a good snap. That there must be quite the strong tail."

"And a nice tail it is too,"

Mick didn't know whether Sallie May meant for him to hear her or not, but either way, it gave him the same shock to his nerves he got whenever Jewel was lurking nearby.

"I tell ya, you got to enter the Pain Games at the festival," Jo continued boasting as he shovelled a portion of meat onto his plate before sitting down. "You'd be a real contender for one of the top spots for sure."

"Let's… not exaggerate on that," Mick retorted awkwardly. "I assure you it was mostly luck."

In truth, as curious as he was about the Harvest Moon Festival after it was seemingly praised so much, Mick had no intention of entering any events that it may have held. Given the name alone, the "Pain Games" in particular didn't sound at all like something he could walk away from in one piece. So, of course, he thought it best to nip any idea of such things in the bud right here and now. As luck would have it, Striker seemed to be on his side in that regard.

"Come on, boss, leave the kid alone," he said with a light chuckle. "After all, he's got enough fame as it is."

The moment the snakish Imp said that, Mick's blood immediately ran cold. He couldn't mean what he thought he did… right?

"What do you mean by that, Striker?" Lin asked, her curiosity piqued as she was passing the gravy boat around the table.

In response, yet another amused toothy smirk etched its way across Striker's face, showing off his gold fang for all to see.

"Show 'em, Sally," he said, tilting his head towards her daughter, who then proceeded to pull out her Hellphone with an amused smirk of her own.

Much to Mick's horror, the image on the screen was EXACTLY what he dreaded it would be.

"Oh no," he muttered, almost hitting his head against the table in humiliation.

Sure enough, Sallie's phone was playing the unbelievably embarrassing horrors known as the "Crazy Cat" video. Not even Snowflake's attempts to calm him by nuzzling against his leg were enough to make the Cat Demon any less on edge at this point. What made it all the worse was when Sallie May started passing the phone around to her brothers, and then to her parents. The moment they saw the video, not a single one of them could resist letting out a small laugh.

"My, my, that's quite the angle," Lin commented, covering her mouth to try and stifle her giggles.

"Please don't look into that!" Mick protested in vain, unable to block out everyone's amusement from his ears.

Catching a small glimpse of the video as it passed by him, the Cat Demon noticed that the one playing, in particular, was of the time he crashed a hang glider into a glass building. All at once, a series of gut-writhing flashbacks of bodybuilders, Hellrats and mind-numbing pain began to fly through his mind, causing the Cat Demon to actually want to throw himself back into the Hellhog pen outside… However, much to his surprise, the amused laughter slowly turned into praise.

"Ha! You crashed into that building and survived?!" Jo exclaimed, his face seemingly filled with pride. "Boy, you're even tougher than I gave you credit for."

Needless to say, Mick wasn't expecting the burly Imp to say that. If anything, he had expected everyone at the table to turn on him and make him out to be some kind of masked clown… they must really like him.

"Oh, that's just the tip of the iceberg, Pa," Sallie May pointed out, smiling in delight as she got her phone back and started scrolling through the internet. "There's a shit ton of videos like that on this blog."

"THERE'S A BLOG!?"

Yet another thing Mick wasn't expecting. Despite hoping that the Crazy Cat fad was dying out, it turned out there was an entire web page dedicated to it, one that seemingly had all the current videos to date. Of course, while Mick was practically traumatized upon discovering this, Jo, on the other hand, was overly filled with enthusiasm.

"No shit, for real?" he asked, quickly rising from his chair. "Let's have a look-see!"

However, before he could take a single step, the sound of his wife clearing her throat stopped him in his tracks.

"Now, Jo, darling, let's not overdo it," she said, ushering her husband back to his seat. "I realize how strong these videos make him look, but I think we need to respect our guest's privacy, don't you?"

As disappointed as he was in not getting to see any more videos, even a strong Imp like Jo was powerless to the wishes of his beloved spouse. As such, he had no choice but to relent and sit back down. Mick, on the other hand, couldn't help but take Lin's words to heart.

"You… really think I look tough in those videos?" he asked, earning himself a small nod from the married Imps. Even Striker nodded in agreement as he once again added his own comment into the mix.

"Well, I ain't surprised," he said. "You'd have to be pretty tough considerin' you're sporting a wound from an Angelic Weapon and all."

At that moment, Mick felt his fur stand on end and his brain melt into jelly. Within a span of two seconds, he was met with the sounds of horrified gasps and his own heart fearfully beating to the point where it was vibrating.

"Uh... I don't know what you're talking about," he tried to deny, only to immediately be called out on it.

"Don't bother, kid," Striker retorted. "You may try to hide it with that there mask of yours, but I know the effects of a wound like that when I see one… Your face is in constant agony, ain't it? That's why you keep all that weed on ya."

He could tell that easily!? As soon as that revelation sunk in, the Cat Demon instinctively raised a hand to the left side of his mask, desperately resisting the urge to scratch at it in utter despair.

Granted, it was no secret that Mick never once took off his mask in public. However, he also never once told anyone WHY he wore it in the first place… not even to Octavia. It's not that he didn't want to, of course, but having to explain why he wanted to keep his face hidden brought up one too many painful memories… both mentally and physically. And now, being exposed like this… Mick couldn't help but feel a little violated. Especially with how accurate Striker's assumption appeared to be.

"You… got hit by an angelic weapon?!" Lin exclaimed, needing a few moments to process what she just heard.

Seeing that all eyes were now on him, all Mick could do was let out a sigh and come clean. No point in lying about it now.

"Yes," he admitted, "About seven years ago."

The moment he said that, the room once again fell into a stunned silence. For the next few minutes, no one could even fathom what they could possibly say in regards to such a revelation… at least until Sallie May decided to make her comment.

"That's… kinda hot," she said, sending yet another shiver up Mick's spine.

With the silence broken, the awkwardness did seem to subside a little, though not entirely; it did allow the other Imps to say their piece.

"Damn," Jo uttered. "Never met anyone who came across them things and lived to tell the tale."

"Dead right," Striker added. "Nasty things, Angelic Weapons. Burns the flesh and poisons the bloodstream of any Demon… Could even take down Demon Royalty if they ever got too close."

"So… you fought an Angel before?" Lin asked, her curiosity once again piquing over her initial shock.

At first, Mick couldn't give a response. In all honesty, he would rather not give any explanation at all considering how personal a question it was. However, after being put on the spot like this, he couldn't just sit there and say nothing now.

"Well… not exactly," he said, trying to be as vague as possible as his hand anxiously continued to scratch at the left side of his mask. "And if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not talk about it."

As much as they would have liked to protest and demand more information, Jo and Lin nonetheless exchanged a look, smiled, and then looked back at the Cat Demon with understanding.

"We can respect that, Mick, my boy," Jo said reassuringly. "No need for us to pry into your personal business."

"But even so, just know that there ain't no shame in bragging about having such a scar down here in Wrath," Lin added, much to Mick's astonishment.

"Damn right," Striker agreed. "That kinda pain… it takes a real man to endure that."

Mick didn't know whether to be flattered or discomforted upon hearing such a thing. But either way, it appeared as though everyone else around the table seemed to agree with him.

"Thank you," the Cat Demon sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his weed. "You don't mind if I smoke, do you?"

"Not at all," Lin replied with a smile.

After that, the rest of the evening seemed to fall into silence, at least as far as Mick was concerned. While everyone else chattered away amongst themselves as they ate such a delicious feast, the Cat Demon didn't have that much else to say. Sure he answered the occasional question, but none of his answers were that detailed. In fact, he rarely spoke unless he was spoken to.

It wasn't as if he wanted to be rude, of course, but Striker's words truly hit where it hurts the moment he heard them. And despite his expressions being hidden behind a face made of metal, every word the Imp said forced the Cat Demon to begin reliving such painful memories he had hoped were long buried. For the next few hours, if Mick wasn't unconsciously scratching at his mask… he at least kept one hand on the Rosario in his pocket.