DISCLAIMER: The Taimanin series belongs to Black Lilith.
Chapter 2: A Burden to Bear
[From Rin's viewpoint]
One night during a full moon, I found myself in a vivid dream, tangled in silken sheets with a powerful werewolf. His fur was a deep, mesmerizing blue - the same shade as the one who had rescued me from the clutches of those vile Orcs. The same beast man who had saved my mother years ago when I was just a child.
In this dream, I was bare and vulnerable, my heart racing with anticipation as his muscular form loomed over me. The moonlight filtering through the window cast an otherworldly glow on his fur, making him appear almost ethereal. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, his warm breath ghosting over my skin.
As his thick member pressed against my entrance, a mix of fear and desire coursed through me. I arched my back, my body betraying my mind's hesitation. My fingers dug into his broad shoulders, feeling the coarse fur beneath my fingertips.
"I... I want you," I whispered, my voice trembling with need. "Please, take me."
He growled low in response, the sound sending shivers down my spine. Slowly, torturously, he began to enter me. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious stretch that had me gasping for air.
"More," I pleaded, my inhibitions crumbling away. "Harder, please!"
Our bodies moved in perfect sync, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable crescendo. I could feel myself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, my entire being focused on the point where we were joined.
"I'm close," I panted, my nails raking down his back. "Don't stop, I'm going to-"
Just as I was about to reach my peak, the dream began to fade. The werewolf's form blurred, the sensations becoming distant and muted. I struggled to hold onto the fantasy, but it slipped away like sand through my fingers.
My eyes fluttered open, the harsh light of dawn replacing the soft moonlight of my dream. I lay there for a moment, my heart still pounding, my body flushed with lingering arousal. As reality settled in, I turned to look at my bedside clock.
6:00 AM. The red digits glared at me, a stark reminder that it was time to face the day. I sighed, running a hand through my tousled hair, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream. But as I rose to start my morning routine, I couldn't help but wonder about the blue werewolf and why he had such a powerful effect on me, even in my dreams.
After a warm bath and putting on fresh new clothes, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. The aroma of freshly cooked food filled the air, and I was surprised to see my little cousin Shikanosuke already at the table, finishing his breakfast. Even more surprising was the sight that greeted me as I entered the kitchen.
Wolfgang, who had rescued me just yesterday, stood at the stove, wearing an apron and expertly flipping what looked like tamagoyaki in a pan. The kitchen counter was laden with an array of Japanese breakfast dishes: steaming bowls of miso soup, grilled fish, fluffy white rice, and various side dishes.
As I stood there, momentarily stunned, Wolfgang turned and greeted me with a cheerful "Goedemorgen!" His Dutch accent was thick, but his smile was warm and genuine.
"You cooked all of this?" I asked, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.
Wolfgang chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I've been awake since three hours ago. In fact, I'm kinda hyperactive at dawn," he replied, his tone giddy and upbeat. He seemed especially animated as he interacted with Shikanosuke, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately as he passed by.
I watched in amazement as Wolfgang moved around the kitchen with ease, plating the last of the food and bringing it to the table. It was hard to reconcile this domestic scene with the fierce warrior I had witnessed in action just yesterday.
"I didn't expect someone like you could cook and do housework three hours before morning," I admitted, taking a seat at the table. "It's... astounding."
Wolfgang shrugged modestly, but I could see a hint of pride in his eyes. "I've picked up a few skills over the years. Cooking helps me relax, believe it or not."
But even as I ate, my mind was racing. I had so many questions for him, about his past, about his connection to my mother, and about his own history. The fact that he was the son of Edwin Black, the notorious crime boss of NOMAD, added another layer of complexity to his already mysterious persona.
"This is delicious," I complimented, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the kitchen. "Where did you learn to cook Japanese cuisine?"
Wolfgang's eyes seemed to cloud over for a moment, as if lost in a distant memory. "Your mother taught me, actually," he said softly. "During one of my visits to Japan, years ago."
Admittedly, cooking was his hobby, which is saying something.
His words opened up a floodgate of emotions and questions. I wanted to know more about his relationship with my mother, about the circumstances that brought him into our lives. But before I could voice any of these thoughts, Shikanosuke piped up, asking Wolfgang if he could teach him how to make tamagoyaki.
As I watched Wolfgang patiently explain the process to my eager young cousin, I realized that this unusual breakfast was just the beginning. There was so much more to uncover about Wolfgang, about my family's past, and about the events that had brought us all together. And despite the lingering effects of my vivid dream and the confusion it brought, I found myself looking forward to unraveling these mysteries, one breakfast at a time.
Our conversation was interrupted by a ring from Wolfgang's phone. He glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing slightly before answering.
"Hello. For real, mate?" Wolfgang's voice had lost its earlier cheerfulness, replaced by a more serious tone.
I watched as his expression ominously hardened. Something about the call seemed to put him on edge, and I could sense the shift in his demeanor. Or, so I thought.
"Okay, okay. I'll get to it," he said, his voice gruff. "But first, I still got some business to take care of here in Japan."
I already know that he's bounty hunter, the man who pursued his targets with relentless determination. From my firsthand experience seeing him killing those thugs that day, he'll do whatever means necessary to bring down his targets, no matter how horrifyingly cruel...
"Is everything alright?" I asked cautiously, aware of Shikanosuke's curious gaze darting between us.
Wolfgang sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Duty calls," he said, attempting a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "At least this has nothing to do with you guys, much less other Taimanins."
But I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes darted to the window as if scanning for threats. It was a stark reminder of who he really was - not just a family friend or a skilled cook, but a man who lived in a world of danger and violence.
"Whoever it was," I ventured, keeping my voice low so Shikanosuke wouldn't overhear, "they seemed to make you uneasy. Is there anything I can do to help?"
Wolfgang's eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something - gratitude, perhaps, or maybe just surprise at my offer. "I can handle all kinds of shit" he said firmly. "My work... it's not for the faint of heart, and something I don't want to drag your ass into."
I felt a surge of frustration. After all, I was a Taimanin - I was no stranger to danger. "I'm not some helpless civilian, Wolfgang," I reminded him. "I can handle myself in a fight."
He chuckled, but it was a humorless sound. "Hehe, glad too hear that."
As he stood up to clear the dishes, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this situation than Wolfgang was letting on. The carefree atmosphere of breakfast had evaporated, replaced by an undercurrent of tension that seemed to hum in the air.
I watched as he moved around the kitchen, his movements now precise and controlled, like a predator ready to strike at any moment. It was a stark reminder of the duality of his nature -he's more than just a gentle cook. No, but a former MMA world champion and ruthless bounty hunter, existing in the same person.
As Shikanosuke left for school, waving goodbye with a cheerful innocence that seemed at odds with the tense atmosphere, I made a silent vow to myself. Whatever trouble Wolfgang was in, whatever dangerous world he inhabited, I would find a way to help him. The time to return the favor will be on the right time.
[From Wolfgang's viewpoint]
Here I am in Tokyo Kingdom. City of sinners. Yomihara is a shithole worse than this.
I'm not here for my next job, not yet. This is... personal research, you could say. See, I'm not just a bounty hunter. I'm an alchemist too, and there's nothing I love more than experimenting with different substances, transmuting one thing into another.
Recently, I asked a demon from Yomihara called Perit. The gothic gas mask girl. The reason why she is wearing a mask is that she lacks the control of her internal gases. Inhaling them causes people to get high, as in smoking weed. One whiff of that stuff and you're higher than a kite. Hye-ha-ha-ha-ha!
On my hand, I got a plastic ball with a safety pin. This one contains the experimental gas that I transmuted from a sample Perit's vapor that she generously donated to me. My heart races with anticipation as I scan the area, looking for suitable test subjects.
While finding a safe distance, avoiding getting spotted, I throw the smoke bomb on nearby gangsters.
The ball arcs through the air, landing right in the middle of the group. For a moment, nothing happens. Then, with a soft hiss, it detonates.
A sickly green vapor billows out, enveloping the thugs before they can react. They cough and splutter, waving their hands to disperse the smoke. Then, it begins.
It starts with a chuckle, then a giggle. Within seconds, they're howling with laughter, their bodies convulsing as if possessed. But there's no mirth in their eyes - only pain and confusion as they struggle to breathe between guffaws.
"Christ almighty..." I watch, fascinated, as they collapse one by one, their laughter turning to wheezes and then to silence. The entire process takes less than a minute.
Cautiously, I approach the bodies, my nose and mouth covered with a specialized mask. I check each one, confirming what I already knew - they're all dead, their faces frozen in grotesque smiles.
"Well, it actually worked," I mutter to myself, a mix of satisfaction and unease settling in my gut. This gas is far more potent than I anticipated, deadlier than even the gas weapons used by the Nazis during the war. The implications are both thrilling and terrifying.
As I stand amidst the carnage, my mind is already racing ahead. "Now, for Phase 2," I say, my voice echoing in the empty alley. The experiment was a success, but it's only the beginning. There's still so much to explore, so many possibilities to uncover.
I quickly gather my evidence, taking samples and snapping a few discreet photos. Can't leave any traces behind - I may be a bounty hunter, but I'm not looking to become the hunted.
As I prepare to leave, a nagging thought tugs at the back of my mind. What would Rin think if she knew about this? The breakfast we shared this morning seems like a lifetime ago, that domestic scene a stark contrast to the dark alley I now stand in.
I shake my head, pushing the thought aside. This is my fucking world, the shadow realm I inhabit. Rin and her cousin would be better off to remain in the light, untouched by the darkness that follows me.
What's Phase 2 you asked? My client just told me that some of Rin's captors survived and are taken to medical care in a hospital here. So, I'm gonna make sure this is their last day here on Earth.
I decide to pay tribute to Heath Ledger's Joker, but with my own twist. Instead of dressing as a nurse, I opt for a doctor's disguise. It's amazing how a white coat and a clipboard can grant you access to almost anywhere in a hospital. Slipping into the building, I keep my head down and my movements purposeful. The smell of disinfectant and sickness fills my nostrils as I make my way through the sterile corridors. My target: the basement where they store the oxygen tanks.
Now, here's a fun fact – oxygen itself isn't flammable, but it's one hell of an accelerant. It makes other materials burn faster and more intensely. In short, we're going to have fireworks.
As I reach the basement, I check my watch. It's 2:15 AM – the graveyard shift. Minimal staff, maximum carnage. I get to work, placing C4 charges strategically around the room. Each placement is careful, calculated. This isn't just destruction; it's an art form. My hands move swiftly, muscle memory from years of similar jobs taking over.
With the last charge set, I make my way towards the exit. My heart rate picks up, not from fear, but from anticipation. This is the moment I live for – the calm before the storm.
Once outside, I pull out the detonator. A small, innocuous device with the power to bring down an entire building. The hospital is rocked by a smaller scale explosion, slowly destroying it. Only half of the hospital is destroyed when the explosion stopped.
Frowning, I press it again. Still nothing. Frustration builds as I repeatedly mash the button. Did I make a mistake? And then...
*BOOM!*
"Holy fuck!"
The explosion rocks the night, a fiery bloom erupting from the hospital's lower levels. Windows shatter, alarms blare, and chaos ensues. The delayed reaction only made the blast more potent, more destructive. I can't help but smile – it worked even better than I'd planned.
As sirens begin to wail in the distance, I know it's time to make myself scarce. "Now for me to get the fuck out of here," I mutter, already moving away from the scene.
Adrenaline courses through my veins as I disappear into the night, leaving behind a blazing inferno and a job well done. Another mission completed, another assholes wiped off the face of the earth.
Davao City, Philippines.
Now for the main event... Here I am in the Philippines. Two days after the incident, having to take my private jet to land on Davao City International Airport.
My next target is a pastor that proclaims himself as the "appointed Son of God". There mere thought of it makes my blood boil.
"Who the fuck ever claims to be the appointed Son of God?!" I mutter to myself, adjusting my sunglasses as I make my way through the bustling airport. The irony isn't lost on me - a man of demonic heritage hunting down a false prophet.
So this guy runs a Restorationist church. On paper, he claims himself to be some kind of holy, pious figure. But considering the mounting allegations against him, he's anything but. Not to mention, that church organization is more of a cult. I've seen it before - charismatic leaders preying on the vulnerable, using faith as a weapon.
As I hail a taxi outside the airport, I can't help but break the fourth wall for a moment. "If you guys have seen, or heard the news about an infamous pastor here in the Philippines accused of sexual abuse of women and children. This pastor that I'm targeting is based on that guy."
The taxi driver, a middle-aged man with a weathered face, gives me a curious look in the rearview mirror. "Where to, sir?"
I give him an address near my target's compound. No need to raise suspicions by going directly there. As we drive through the busy streets of Davao City, I start to plan my approach.
This isn't going to be a simple in-and-out job. The pastor's compound is like a fortress, with armed guards and state-of-the-art security systems. But every fortress has its weak points, and I intend to find them.
My phone buzzes - a message from an informant. Apparently, the pastor is hosting a big rally tonight, expecting thousands of followers. Perfect. Large crowds mean chaos, and chaos means opportunities.
As the taxi weaves through traffic, I catch glimpses of posters plastered on walls and billboards. The pastor's face smiles down at me, his eyes seeming to follow me wherever I go. It's unsettling, to say the least.
"You here for the rally?" the taxi driver asks, breaking the silence.
I grunt noncommittally. No need to give away too much information.
"That pastor, he's a controversial figure," the driver continues, seemingly eager for conversation. "Some say he's a saint, others say he's a devil."
"And what do you think?" I ask, genuinely curious about the local perspective.
The driver shrugs. "Me? I think power corrupts, no matter if it's political or religious."
Too damn right, whilst I nodded, impressed by his insight. "Wise words, mate."
As we approach my destination, I start to feel that familiar rush of adrenaline. Let's do this, and this false prophet has no idea what's coming for him.
I pay the driver and step out into the bustling street. The air is thick with the scent of street food and exhaust fumes. In the distance, I can see the spires of the pastor's compound rising above the city skyline.
"Time to clip an angel's wings," I mutter to myself, cracking my knuckles. This job might be more challenging than usual, but then again, I've always enjoyed a good challenge.
As I blend into the crowd, my mind is already racing with plans and contingencies. One thing's for sure - by the end of tonight, this so-called "appointed Son of God" will be meeting his maker, and I'll be the one sending him there.
With the crowd almost eating away the entrance, I knew I needed to find a backdoor. The mass of people surged forward, their fervent energy palpable in the air. Chants and prayers echoed through the streets, creating a cacophony of devotion that made my skin crawl.
I circled around the compound, my eyes scanning for any weak points in the security. The loadout in my backpack felt heavier with each step. Inside was a 3D printed bolt-action rifle, disassembled for easy concealment. The small zoom scope was wrapped carefully in a soft cloth to prevent any scratches. I had spent hours practicing the assembly, my fingers memorizing each movement until I could put it together blindfolded if needed.
But the rifle wasn't the only weapon I carried. Nestled at the bottom of my bag was a device that made even my hardened heart skip a beat. I called it the "Devil's Bomb" - a fitting name for what it could do.
As I rounded a corner, I spotted a service entrance guarded by two men in ill-fitting suits. Their eyes darted nervously, hands resting on poorly concealed weapons. Fucking amateurs. I could take them out easily, but that would raise alarms too soon.
Instead, I ducked into an alley, pulling out a small device from my pocket. It was a signal jammer, custom-built to interfere with their communication equipment. With a flick of a switch, I activated it, imagining the static filling their earpieces.
Sure enough, within minutes, one of the guards tapped his ear, frowning. He said something to his partner and jogged away, likely to report the malfunction. Perfect.
I approached the remaining guard, adopting the hurried gait of a staff member running late. "Hey," I called out, my voice tinged with manufactured panic. "The pastor's asking for more water bottles on stage. They sent me to grab some from the storage room."
The guard hesitated, his hand moving towards his weapon. I tensed, ready to neutralize him if necessary. But then he relaxed, nodding towards the door. "Make it quick," he grunted.
I flashed a grateful smile and slipped inside, my heart rate steady despite the close call. The interior was a maze of corridors and rooms, the distant sound of the crowd filtering through the walls. I needed to find a vantage point, somewhere I could set up without being detected.
As I navigated the hallways, I couldn't help but think about the "Devil's Bomb" in my bag. It was a creation born from one of my alchemical experiments, a fusion of conventional explosives and something far more sinister. I had tested it on a smaller scale, and the results were both fascinating and horrifying. The Devil's Bomb had the power of a nuclear warhead, far more lethal than the atomic bombs dropped in Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Using it here, in this compound full of fervent believers... the chaos it would cause will be almost unimaginable. Part of me wondered if I was crossing a line, but I quickly pushed the thought aside. This demagogue had destroyed countless lives with his lies and abuse. It's about time that I answer God's call to erase this man from existence.
As I made my way through the winding corridors of the compound, my senses were on high alert. The muffled sounds of the crowd outside served as a constant reminder of the ticking clock. I needed to act fast, but precision was key.
Reaching the entrance to the basement, I paused, listening intently for any signs of movement. The air was thick with the scent of damp concrete and stale air. Slowly, I eased the door open, wincing at the slight creak of its hinges.
The basement was dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls from flickering fluorescent lights. I could make out the silhouettes of storage boxes and equipment scattered around. But more importantly, I spotted two guards near the far corner, engaged in hushed conversation.
As I crouched behind the storage container, my mind raced with the implications of what I'd just overheard. The Taimanins, those skilled ninja warriors, were already on this bastard's trail. And now, these goons were planning to trap them? My blood boiled at the thought.
"Fucking assholes," I muttered under my breath, careful not to alert the guards to my presence. "They're even trying to lay a trap for the Taimanins? I won't allow that."
The idea of that demagogue pastor getting his hands on the Taimanins, potentially turning them into sex slaves, made me sick to my stomach. I'd seen enough of his kind to know what they were capable of when given power over others.
I gripped my rifle tighter, my resolve strengthening. This wasn't just about taking out a target anymore. Now, I had to make sure these scumbags didn't get their chance to harm the Taimanins.
"Change of plans," I whispered to myself, quickly reassessing the situation.
I needed to find out more about this trap they were planning. If I could disrupt it, maybe even warn the Taimanins somehow, I could prevent a disaster.
Carefully, I inched closer to the edge of the container, straining to hear more of the guards' conversation.
"When are those ninjas supposed to show up?" one guard asked, his voice low and anxious.
"Intel says they're planning to infiltrate during tomorrow night's rally," the other replied. "Boss wants us to be ready. We've got some special... equipment... to deal with them."
My jaw clenched. Special equipment? That couldn't be good. I had to find out what they were planning to use against the Taimanins.
As the guards continued their hushed conversation, I weighed my options. The bomb was already set, but maybe I could delay its detonation. If I could gather more intel and potentially sabotage their trap, it might be worth the risk.
Silently, I began assembling my 3D printed rifle. Each piece clicked into place with satisfying precision, a testament to my meticulous design. The suppressor, a crucial component, was the last to be attached. I double-checked everything, knowing that a single mistake could be fatal.
Taking a deep breath, I raised the rifle to my shoulder, peering through the scope. The first guard came into view, his features clear in the crosshairs. I exhaled slowly, my finger curling around the trigger.
*pfft*
The suppressed shot was barely louder than a whisper. The guard crumpled to the ground without a sound. His partner, startled by the sudden movement, reached for his radio. He never made it.
*pfft*
Another silent shot, another body hitting the floor. The basement fell eerily quiet, save for the distant hum of the air conditioning.
I moved swiftly, dragging the bodies behind a stack of crates. It wasn't a perfect hiding spot, but it would buy me some time. Wiping my prints from the door handle, I scanned the room for the ideal location to plant the Devil's Bomb.
Near the center of the basement, I found what I was looking for - a structural support pillar. Planting the bomb here would maximize its destructive potential, bringing the entire compound crashing down.
As I worked to set up the device, a chill ran down my spine. The enormity of what I was about to do hit me like a freight train. This wasn't just another job; this was on a scale I'd never attempted before. The casualties would be massive.
For a moment, doubt crept in. Was this really the right course of action? But then I remembered the faces of the pastor's victims, the lives destroyed by his manipulations and abuse. My resolve hardened.
"Sometimes, you've got to fight fire with fire," I muttered to myself, finalizing the bomb's setup. "Or in this case, fight false divinity with true hellfire."
With the bomb in place and the timer set, I knew my window for escape was narrow. I needed to get out and put as much distance between myself and the compound as possible before detonation. Timer is set at one minute. I better get the fuck out of here quick.
As I made my way back towards the exit, a new sound caught my attention. Footsteps, growing louder. Someone was coming down to the basement. My heart raced as I quickly sought cover behind a large storage container, my hand instinctively reaching for my rifle.
The basement door creaked open...
"Shit! They're here!"
The words escaped my lips before I could stop them. Two guards burst into the basement, their eyes widening as they spotted me. My heart raced, but I forced myself to remain calm. Years of experience had taught me that panic was a luxury I couldn't afford.
"Who the hell are you?!" one of the guards shouted, his gun trained on my chest. His hand trembled slightly, betraying his nervousness. Amateur.
The other guard, more composed, reached for his radio. "All stations, be advised! We have an intruder at the basement! The compound has been compromised!"
His voice echoed in the confined space, mixing with the distant sounds of the rally above. I could almost feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.
Little did they know, I had an ace up my sleeve. Or rather, in my eye. I felt the familiar tingle as my left eye changed from jade to gold. It was a gift from my demonic heritage, one that had saved my ass more times than I could count.
The guards blinked, confusion washing over their faces as I seemingly vanished into thin air. In reality, I had erased a small frame of time, just enough to slip past them unnoticed.
As I moved, I watched their panic unfold. Their eyes landed on the bomb, and the color drained from their faces.
"Get a bomb squad here!" one yelled, his voice cracking with fear. But even as the words left his mouth, realization dawned. They were out of time.
"No! We're too late! That bomb is about to-"
*DODOGO-BO-BO-BOOOM!*
The explosion rocked the entire compound. Neon green flames, a signature of my alchemical creation, flooded the basement. The fire, hungry and merciless, punched through the floor above.
From my vantage point outside, I watched as the flames reached the podium. For a split second, I saw the pastor's face, his eyes wide with shock and fear. Then, he was gone, consumed by the inferno.
The explosion built in intensity, shattering windows and tearing through stonework as if it were paper. The crowd outside, once fervent with devotion, now screamed in terror. The shockwave spread the flames outward, incinerating everything in its path.
Buildings within a hundred meters of the compound crumbled like sandcastles. The force of the blast sent debris flying, igniting fires in structures across the street. The skyline of Davao City was forever changed in that moment.
As chaos reigned, I slipped away, my golden eye allowing me to navigate through the pandemonium unseen. The smell of smoke and burning flesh filled the air, a grim reminder of the destruction I had wrought.
Hours later, I found myself sitting in a Jollibee, of all places. The familiar fast-food chain felt surreal after the events of the day. I bit into a Champ burger, the taste of victory mingling with the greasy flavor.
Through the window, I could see a pillar of green smoke rising from the destroyed compound. It stood as a testament to my success, a job well done. Yet, as I watched emergency vehicles race by, sirens wailing, I couldn't shake a sense of unease.
This wasn't just another bounty. The scale of destruction, the lives lost - it would have far-reaching consequences. I had taken out my target, yes, but at what cost?
As I finished my fries, I knew that this day would mark a turning point. Not just for Davao City or the Philippines, but for me as well. The world would be looking for answers, for someone to blame. And while I was good at disappearing, I couldn't help but wonder if this time, I had left too big a mark to simply fade away.
I crumpled up my wrapper, tossing it into the trash as I stood to leave. Whatever came next, I would face it. After all, that's what I did best - survive, adapt, and keep moving forward, no matter the odds.
As I stepped out into the chaotic streets of Davao, the weight of my actions settled on my shoulders. But there was no time for regret or second-guessing. I needed to do what needs to be done.
[From Rin's viewpoint]
I arrived in the Philippines, my heart racing with anticipation for the mission ahead. The humid air clung to my skin as I made my way through the bustling streets of Davao City. Mission control had tasked me with apprehending a pastor accused of heinous crimes - sexual abuse and human trafficking. The weight of responsibility settled heavily on my shoulders.
As I approached the compound where the pastor was said to be, I activated my Taima Suit. The familiar sensation of power coursed through my body, heightening my senses and abilities. I was ready for anything... or so I thought.
But nothing could have prepared me for the scene that unfolded before my eyes.
The pastor's compound, once a symbol of misplaced faith and hidden corruption, was now engulfed in flames. But these weren't ordinary flames. They burned with an eerie green hue, casting an otherworldly glow on the chaos around them.
"What in the world...?" I whispered, my eyes widening in shock.
The fire raged with an intensity I had never witnessed before. It seemed to have a life of its own, devouring everything in its path with insatiable hunger. The heat was so intense that I could feel it even through my protective suit.
But the destruction didn't stop at the compound. Nearby buildings, some across the street, were caught in the inferno's relentless spread. The air was thick with smoke and the screams of panicked civilians.
"This is horrible..." I murmured, my voice barely audible over the roar of the flames and the distant wail of sirens.
As a Taimanin, I was trained to face all manner of supernatural threats and corrupt humans. But this... this felt different. The scale of destruction, the unnatural color of the flames - it all pointed to something beyond our usual adversaries.
I activated my communicator, my fingers trembling slightly as I contacted mission control. "This is Rin. The target location has been... destroyed. I repeat, the entire compound is burning. The fire is spreading to nearby buildings. We need immediate assistance and evacuation support."
As I waited for a response, my mind raced. Who could have done this? Was it possible that someone had beaten us to the target? Or was this some sort of twisted self-destruction initiated by the pastor himself?
The sound of crumbling concrete drew my attention back to the burning compound. A section of the building collapsed, sending a plume of green-tinged smoke and embers into the sky. The sight sent a chill down my spine despite the oppressive heat.
"I need to help these people," I decided, pushing aside my shock and confusion.
"No, Miss Rin. We're already too late.", said Kotaro Fuuma, the rookie mission control who is overseeing other Taimanins' missions. "Someone might have beaten us to it."
This fire, with its unnatural color and ferocity, reminded me of something... or someone. But I couldn't quite place it.
Suddenly, a memory flashed through my mind - Wolfgang's phone call back in Japan, his tense demeanor, the way he had brushed off my offer to help. Could he be involved in this somehow?
I shook my head, trying to focus on the task at hand. There would be time for questions later. Right now, I had a job to do.
As I continued my rescue efforts, I couldn't help but wonder: What had really happened here? And more importantly, what would be the consequences of this fiery devastation?
Suddenly, my radio crackled to life, cutting through the chaos around me. A familiar voice filled my ears, sending a shiver down my spine.
"I saw you right there."
My heart skipped a beat. I knew that voice all too well. "Wolfgang?" I whispered, almost afraid to confirm my suspicion.
"Where are you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady as I scanned the area around me.
"At the rooftop of one of the skylines south of your position," he replied, his tone casual, as if we were discussing the weather and not standing amidst a scene of unprecedented destruction.
I turned, my eyes searching the horizon. Sure enough, I could make out a figure standing on a distant rooftop, silhouetted against the smoke-filled sky. Even from this distance, I could feel his gaze boring into me.
Wolfgang was watching me? But how... A sinking feeling settled in my stomach as the pieces started to fall into place. The unnatural green flames, the scale of destruction, the precision of the attack – it all pointed to one conclusion. That said, I have to confront him personally.
Once I stood before him, pointing my sword, "I have a feeling you may be behind all of this."
And then he starts laughing evilly.
"Sharp as ever, Rin. But then again, I wouldn't expect anything less from you."
I clenched my fists, a mix of emotions swirling within me – anger, confusion, and a strange sense of awe at the sheer scale of what he had accomplished. "Why?" I demanded, my voice growing stronger. "Why would you do this?!"
"The only way to cleanse corruption is with fire," Wolfgang replied, his tone growing serious. "This 'pastor' was a fucking cancer, preying on the vulnerable. I did God a favor... by excising the tumor."
I shook my head, even though I knew he couldn't see the gesture. "But at what cost, Wolfgang? Look around you! The innocent people caught in the crossfire, the destruction..."
"Collateral damage," he said, his voice non-chalant, yet hardening. "A necessary evil to prevent a greater one."
"How do you call this a necessary evil?! You've done so much worse than what Hitler and the Nazis did! This is coming from, of all people, a Holocaust survivor!"
Wolfgang retorted, "This is my burden to bear! If I didn't took this mission, then how many women and children will be abused by that man, and he'll do the same thing to you Taimanins!"
Stunned by Wolfgang's words. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on me as I processed what he had said. The pastor wasn't just a corrupt religious leader; he was a threat to Taimanins like myself. The realization sent a chill down my spine.
I shook my head, still struggling to reconcile the man I thought I knew with the one standing before me. "But there must have been another way. We could have exposed him, brought him to justice through legal means."
Wolfgang let out a bitter laugh. "Legal means? For a man who had governments in his pocket? Who manipulated the system to protect himself? No, Rin. This was the only way to ensure he could never hurt anyone again."
I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling on my shoulders. This wasn't just about one mission gone awry – this was a turning point, a moment that could change everything.
As much as I wanted to argue, I couldn't deny the truth in his words. I had seen firsthand how the powerful could escape justice, how they could twist the law to serve their own purposes. But still, the cost seemed too high.
"And what about the innocent people caught in the crossfire?" I asked, gesturing to the chaos below us. "How can you justify their deaths?"
Wolfgang's expression softened slightly, a flicker of remorse crossing his face. "Every death weighs on me, Rin. But if my actions today save countless others from suffering, from being abused or trafficked, then I can bear that burden. Only God Himself can judge me accordingly."
I felt torn. Part of me understood his logic, could even see the twisted nobility in his actions. But another part recoiled at the brutality, the disregard for collateral damage.
"You said he was planning to target Taimanins," I said, changing the subject slightly. "What did you mean by that?"
Wolfgang's eyes hardened. "I overheard his guards talking. They had plans, Rin. Traps set for Taimanins who might come investigating. Special equipment designed to neutralize your powers. If you had walked into that compound unprepared..."
He didn't need to finish the sentence. I could imagine all too well what might have happened. The thought sent a shudder through me.
"So you did this to protect us?" I asked, my voice soft.
"That's the only thing I can think of," Wolfgang admitted. "But mostly, I did it because it needed to be done. Because sometimes, the only way to fight monsters is to become one yourself."
As I stood there, looking at Wolfgang silhouetted against the burning city, I realized that things would never be the same. The line between right and wrong, once so clear to me, had become blurred. And in that moment, I wasn't sure if I was looking at a hero or a villain.
"What happens now?" I asked, dreading the answer.
Wolfgang turned his gaze back to the burning city. "Now? Let's get the fuck out of here. The world will be looking for someone to blame, and we can't afford to be caught in the crossfire. There's a storm coming, Rin, and we need to be ready for it."
As the sirens wailed in the distance and the green flames continued to consume the city, I knew that this was just the beginning. Whatever came next, whatever consequences we faced, one thing was certain: nothing would ever be the same again.
Footnotes and Trivia:
- Wolfgang's target is based on a real life, controversial religious leader named Apollo Quiboloy, the leader of the Kingdom of Jesus Christ.
