"I can't believe it. I just can't believe it." That was the 'mantra' that Moxxie kept repeating over and over for about fifteen minutes after regaining consciousness from fainting at the sight of an apparently alive mother.

Quick recap, he and Millie were driving out of Limbo City until they got ambushed by a biker gang, one of them was curious about Moxxie and he wound up getting introduced to Moto, an imp who was Moxxie's shattered mirror image, having black hair, forward curved horns and some tattoos on his person. This led him to be taken through Limbo city until they stopped at this bar, where the most unorthodox family reunion Moxxie's ever experienced had happened.

He was now sitting at one of the sofas with the Imp, Moto, sitting at the left of him and his mother, Esmeralda, sitting at the right of him, both of them looking at the white-haired imp with a mixture of confusion and concern as Moxxie continued to repeat himself in a trance.

"I can't believe it. I just can't belie-"

(SMACK)

And then, Moto palmed him in the back of the head.

"Moto!" Esmeralda scolded while the black-haired male imp shrugged and shook his head, keeping his scowl while Moxxie snapped out of it. His mother took one of his hands and faced him with a look of concern. "Moxxie, mi hijo. Are you okay?"

Once Moxxie regained himself, he still had the most shocked expression on his face...mixed with heartache. "...All this time...you've been alive."

"...I...I..."

Moxxie shock turned to feeling hurt...and abandonment. "...and you've been here this whole time."

"Moxxie...there is so much that has happened." she tried to explain as she held onto his arm. "I'm...I never thought I'd see you again. I want to know where to start..."

But Moxxie pulled, having a look of almost disgust, wondering if this was some cheap prank or something. His mother was here, alive and well, and this other Imp, Moto, called her mother.

"I'm not sure I wanna hear it." He said, almost growling before he stood up and started heading for the door. But before he could leave, Moto suddenly flashed from his seat to where the fragile imp stood, took him by the jacket, slammed him against the wall, and lifted him up with surprising strength.

"You respect Mother...while here!" Moto snarled, then pulled a knife out towards Moxxie's neck.

"W-W-Woah! I'm not disrespecting her, I just...why do you care?"

"Father...want you...here...meet Mother. She...call you son...why?"

But the Elder Female Imp quickly came by and grabbed Moto by the arm that held the knife.

"Moto, espera, por favor. No le hagas daño."

Moto's expression softened as he then put away the knife and dropped Moxxie, who landed on his feet and felt his neck for any cuts. Then, Esmeralda comes to her first son once more.

"I know you feel betrayed at the moment." She said. "You have no reason to believe any word I say or believe...that any of this is happening...but all this time...I've been here, yes. After I...died, I came back the very next day and soon myself here as you do."

Moxxie looked at her, and then at Moto; they shared his face, but Moto wasn't Crimson's. That big demon who was the leader of the bikers Moto was with, Moto called him Father as he called Esmeralda Mother...

"And you...got busy...with another family...a new life."

Esmeralda shook her head, looking hurt as she tried to fight back tears and walked to the bar's table.

"It was part of the deal I made long ago..." She muttered. "...And I would hardly call it a life, mijo."

"...So it's true?" Moto asked, gesturing to Moxxie. "He is...my blood?"

"...Yes, Moto." Their mother nodded. "You two...are half-brothers."

Both male imps stared at each other directly. They then found themselves lifting their arms, their hands reaching towards each other like they were making contact with aliens. The revelation they discovered was a lot to take in, and they wanted to feel as if it were real. Not only were they half brothers, but they appeared as twins, long lost twins who had now found each other and were ready to touch as if they were each other's mirror image.

But then, all of a sudden, Moto grabbed Moxxie by the rest, forced the hand on his face, and got a good, long whiff of it.

(SNIIIFFFFFFFFFF)

Moxxie quickly pulled away while Moto started off with a blank expression on his face. Moxxie was just befuddled as he turned to his mother, who gave a kind of awkward smile.

"He...has had some problem growing up. That's just his way of greeting others all friendly-like."

Raising an eyebrow at that, Moxxie was now starting to wonder what it was like for his mother to raise another child who may have been more disturbed than he was in his youth. But then, he found Moto wrapping his arm around him and bringing him closer in a sort of hug.

"I have a brother..." He muttered. It almost sounded like he was happy about it.

Quickly shrugging him off, Moxxie decided to get straight to the point in confront Esmeralda. "Okay, Mami, you have to tell me what you have gone through. How...how did you survive? How did you end up here? Have Moto? ...Why'd you never come back?"

All those words, she had a feeling would come sooner or later, but she wasn't ready for them. Her face fell as she recalled everything she had been through over the years, all that her son deserved to know.

"...I knew what would happen to me." She started off. "...It was always...my fate to die by your father's hand, knowing how much I rejected him...and tried to protect you from him...my only regret...was that I had to leave you alone..."

Those words were hitting hard. Moxxie couldn't stop a tear from running down his face.

"...When I found myself staring upward...to the fading light above the water...I only felt...cold...and crushed... at the bottom of the lake...and then, there was nothing...just darkness as I breathed my last...but then, I heard a voice...asking me if I wanted a second chance to live...to find my way back to you...to make pay your father pay for taking you away..."

Flashback to Esmeralda's lifeless corpse at the bottom of Greed's Body-Dumping grounds. Her feet were chained to a rock as she hung weightless with her eyes and mouth mid-open and water plants beginning to crawl on her. From her perspective, she saw someone, a man walking towards her, through the dark and cold waters as if they meant nothing to him. His visage slowly became clear to her as she saw him wearing a black-clad suit, black tie and shoes, and a red button shirt that could barely hide the muscular form underneath. His glowing yellow eyes could be seen through the darkness.

"To gain a new life was a heavy price to pay, it said." She continued to explain. "...But I answered yes. More than anything yes."

The visage of the man became clear as his face was shown to be as pale as concrete with black veins shown under his clothes, slick black hair that would lay on his back, but floating in the water, dark red horns that stretched and circled over his head like a halo, and inverted demonic wings the stretched out from his back.

On his face was an evil, sinister smile that could rival that of the Radio Demon...

"I started to feel a sense of new life...maybe more a living death," Esmeralda explained while Moxxie and Moto stared at her, listening carefully. "but my savior...was no saint...he was the Devil...the Angel of Darkness..."

Esmeralda saw through her eyes as she felt the Angel on her cheek. The chain that anchored her to the bottom snapped in half, and her eyes quickly widened open as she opened her mouth for breath, writhing and screaming at the bottom of the dumping grounds as she was resurrected.

"Dragging myself out of the water, I found myself indebted to this man, who brought me here and gave me to Moto's father as if I were some...prize."

Moxxie was in shock, hearing that his mother had been...resurrected. It was starting to come together.

"He hurt me...a lot...to break me more than I already was."

"...Samael." Moxxie whispered. The very same angel that Benny worked for was responsible for the return of his beloved mother.

"Yes..." Moto said. "He runs city...everyone here...cross him...or he bring back."

Something didn't add up to Moxxie however. He learned from Benny that Samael was the Moderator of Hell, and he was put into the angel's service to eliminate Stella Ars Goetia because she upset the chaotic balance with her attempts to see Stolas dead. Benny was a trained assassin, he seemed ideal for doing the job, and there's no telling what other kinds of demons Samael had resurrected and placed under his service for their exceptional abilities. But his mother? No offense to her, but being the wife to a Crime Lord like Crimson doesn't exactly give her that much influence.

"...W-W-What does he gain out of this?" Moxxie asked.

"Power. Control. Deceit. But what's important to him is...sustaining the balance by who should be alive...and not." Esmeralda answered. "He brings us back from the darkness...on the promise of what we want most...at the time of our deaths."

She grasped her elder son by the arms and continued "All this time, I've wanted you back in my arms...and your father dead for what he did to me."

Moxxie was almost shocked. He had never seen this side of his mother before.

"...He had me trapped her...waiting...for twenty years...and counting." She said. "...Moto's father, Tridev, provided what little comfort he could give. I spent that time raising Moto with him...it was...a little more considerate than how Crimson wanted to raise you."

Both imps were confused by that. Moto raised an eyebrow, had no knowledge of his half-brother until now, and had no idea what he had gone through, same with Moxxie, seeing that his brother was a biker, couldn't imagine his life being any easier than his.

"So Samael lies to you in order to keep you here and indebted to him." Moxxie established.

"It's how the deal works." Esmeralda said. "Some of us work on the promise that we'll eventually get better lives and freedom from this damn city...but we just do his dirty work and he keeps adding on and on...he'll never let us go."

"Adding on and on...doing dirty work." Moxxie listened carefully and could only think of one thing, or rather one person, who would be affected by this info the most.

"...Benny's being duped..." He muttered.

He had to get out of there and find Blitzø's Brother fast...

Unfortunately for Moxxie, it was already too late for Benny. The Gold Star district of the Greed Ring was one of the only decent places in Mammon's domain...frankly, because it was all too similar to a city's red district. The only reason why it was called Gold Star was because, well...Gold, Greed, Star, Pentagram.

Made sense in the Creator's head.

Anyway, Benny had already been punching, bashing, slicing, and dicing his way through the criminals, thieves, and other greedy souls that the ring had to offer. Now, he was making his way through the safehouse that Princess Stella Ars Goetia had, dealing with whatever guards were left. It was a rampage that one Imp who's been through his own kind of Hell was capable of. With the ancient weapon that burns demons to melted mush in hand, the Rorschach demon seemed unstoppable against the hired goons/so-called elite guards that Stella tried to surround herself with.

"This guy's a goddamn screw loose!"

"He's fucking insane!"

"Don't hold back! We got him-AAAGGGHH!" That goon got Benny's whole armed hand shoved through his chest as his innards melted and the rest of his caught on fire.

"History won't remember you lot." Benny said as he faced the shaking guards. "Nothing but ashes and molten guts will remain."

While some of them wanted to run, they knew they were bound to serve the Royals, and had no choice but to fight as they tried to surround and beat down. But he was faster, more ruthless, and dangerous, smashing through one room where they tried to corner him after another. Some were lucky to get some blows on him, to which he countered and retaliated more brutally than they ever could. Benny practically clawed his way through any defenses that were left until making his way to the upper part of the safe house.

"Crawling down a hole, your highness?" His thoughts were simply on ending Stella. "Won't save you. I'm coming for ya."

Walking through double doors, Benny found himself in the halls just outside the house's main office. And yet, standing just outside that room was his target. Stella stood there, a six-shooter in hand as she glared her heaviest glare at the one-eyed imp, disgusted by the sight of him, wanting nothing but to turn him into red swiss over the humiliation and disgrace he brought to her entire family while hunting her down. Benny merely held a stone-cold face, feeling nothing as he held the Kandarian dagger in his hand, ready as he'll ever be to send this bird to oblivion...

"So, you are the one." She growled. "The filthy little lesser demon who has torn various members of the Goetia Clan apart."

"At your service, my lady," Benny said in a low tone, throwing in a mock bow. "And now, I've come for you."

Stella huffed in anger. "What gives you the right? You are unfit to stand before me in threatening tones, let alone unfit to ever exist! You urchins are all alike!"

"I do what I have to do...to uphold my end of the bargain...and that Samael will uphold his."

"Samael?" Stella scoffed, even wheezing after hearing that name. "He truly sent you?! For what reason does he have to see me dead?!"

"To maintain the balance," Benny answered. "He's convinced that you've upset in a way. With the attempt at taking Prince Stolas' life, no doubt. I do what I do and his will maintains the order of things...no matter I hate it."

"That's what all this is about?! That pathetic little imp-fucking sack of shit deserves no mercy from anyone!" Furious, Stella points her gun at Benny, wanting nothing but to drop him out of frustration for everything he said. "If anything, I do us all a favor by ridding the world of him! If he had just done anything other than...be him, none of this would be happening! But instead, he decided to fuck an insignificant little shit-stain of an imp in our bed! Bringing an even greater disgrace to our family than any of your kind could possibly think to muster! I- ...Wait a minute." She lowers her gun and narrows her eyes at Benny. "Your face..."

As she paused, Benny retorted. "Stolas is a marked Goetia, recorded in the history books. Your name is not even well known amongst your clan."

But that is when Stella's eyes widened in complete rage.

"YOU! YOU LOOK EXACTLY THE FUCKING DIRTY LITTLE DEMON SHIT WHO THAT STUPID HUSBAND OF MINE BENDS OVER FOR! ARE YOU...SOME SLIMY RELATIVE OF THAT PIECE OF GARBAGE?! HUH?!"

After she shrieked, Benny's first thought was that she was just being racist now. But there were only two other people who shared his face, his sister and his brother. And he heard from the employees of his brother's business that he was there, at Stolas' Manor one time, and from Octavia that Stolas had been having an affair with a business partner. It was all coming together for him.

"WELL, I WILL NOT HAVE IT! YOU CANNOT COME HERE AND THREATEN ME! AND JUST SO YOU KNOW, THE SINS ARE WHO MAINTAIN ORDER IN HELL! NOT SOME PATHETIC ANGEL!"

Benny snapped out of his train of thought as he turned to Stella in rebuttal. "Samael has power and authority over the sins. It is his place, as the Moderator of Hell to do what is necessary."

"I will see to it that that left-handed bastard will pay for his emancipations against me!" Stella growled. "And he will not have my life today! Not him, not you, for you will be sent back to him in pieces."

At the snap of her fingers, her own feisty little pet arrived, spurs clinging against the ground with each step he took. Benny narrowed his eyes at the sight of what little hired help Stella had left. A Wrath Imp, tall, slim, and pale red skin, with snake-like features and a physique near to Benny. His eyes have bright yellow sclera, dark green rings around the slit pupils, and black eyelids. He also has a small black mustache, and a mouth full of sharp light yellow teeth inside, with one dull gold fang sticking out. He has short-cut, ivory-colored hair in a slightly messy style. His horns are ivory-colored and point upwards, however, unlike most imps, the stripe pattern is more jagged-styled. He also sports a long tail with four black stripes at the base, and a single black stripe on his tail-fork. He also has eight red and black spikes on the base of his tail. His attire resembles a Southern cowboy, which features a large stereotypical-looking gray hat with his horns protruding, and a red bandana around his neck. He wears a light gray jacket with slightly darker-colored lapels, small yellow cuff links on each of the sleeves' dark gray cuffs, and dark gray trimming in which black tassels can be seen hanging from them. His jacket is usually worn over a black turtleneck which itself is worn under a dark gray vest that is held together by two small yellow buttons. He also wears black fingerless gloves, ivory-colored jeans that are ripped at the thighs, and knee-high, dark gray cowboy boots with red cuffs and toes.

(Do I even have to say this asshole's cliche name?)

The Southern-looking Imp, Striker, looked toward Benny with an evil glee-filled smirk while Benny stared back at him, stone-cold.

"This here is the greatest of the cheapest Assassins that represent your kind," Stella remarked, slightly mocking Striker in the process. "So long as I have access to people like him, I will choose to end any life I see as a disgrace in my eyes, while I remain untouchable, untraceable. You're too pathetic for me to kill myself, so I will leave it in his hands.

Benny looked at the Goetian Princess with great disgust and contempt, understanding more and more why Samael picked him to slay her. The angrier he gets, the more painful he makes it.

"I don't care..." He growled before he began to raise his voice. "Don't matter how many scumbags you scrape up to protect yourself...I'll be sending you to the deepest, darkest ditch in Hell, STELLLAAAAA!"

Stella continued to scoff at Benny, "Empty threat, you kurr. You will never leave here alive." She then turns to her own impish boy-toy. "Striker..."

The Imp turned his slightly over to his employee.

"...Don't get careless..." That was the last thing Stella said before she turned her back on both Imps and walked out of the hall and over to the office. She failed to see Striker's smirk fall after turned back over to Benny.

"Whatever, you do-nothing-bitch." He muttered before turning over to Benny. "So, you're Blitzo's brother, ey? I wasn't ever expectin' that. But I am impressed with what I've heard so far."

Benny said nothing but kept his grip on the Kandarian Dagger tight.

"I mean you got the looks, you got the talent, and quite the reputation from what I've heard. Now, if only you had someone to watch your back and help you out with this kind of stuff. Workin' for Angel? That's tough, but if we stuck together, I'd get you out of that easily. Anything we want would be ours for the taking."

Striker could sense that his words were not holding any sway, seeing Benny quickly remove the black-scaled jacket he had been wearing, revealing his torso painted in Rorschach Tattoos, covering it from his neck down to under his pants

It's how he got his name, after all, in case anyone forgot.

Perhaps he was losing his touch on persuasion, but it didn't matter. He knew fighting this guy was inevitable, but he would not allow himself to make another mistake that would cost him some blood. He slowly took out his own gun and his angelic knife before taking a stance against Benny, who did the same with his Kandarian Dagger.

"...Can you at least think about it?"

"Man, shut the hell up." Benny said before letting out a war cry and charging at Striker, who did the same, firing his revolver rapidly at the Rorschach demon, who was fast enough to dodge the bullets. Benny then did a slight flip before thrusting his armed hand over at Striker, who moved fast enough to flip over Benny, keeping his evil smile on. Despite lacking depth perception, Benny still kept his focus on Striker, turning himself to keep facing the assassin who dared to think him his equal. Striker wasn't wasting any moment he had to go for a kill, being the first to attack, gun and blade in hand which were swung and shot at Benny. He was swift, however, and managed to dodge and retaliated with some jabs on Striker's back and head. Striker flipped away from him and continued to fire until it was time to reload as quickly as possible. Throwing a speed loader into the air, Striker unloaded all the fired shells before, with precision timing, managed to put in the new bullets by swinging his arm back and catching the load in the gun's barrel.

He saw Benny coming and fired straight ahead at him, only for the Rorschach Demon to spin and slide underneath the bullet before leaping with a large swing of the dagger in hand. But Striker aimed and fired at Benny's weapon, managing to hit and it fell out of Benny's grip, hitting the ground. This seemed to give him the advantage, but because Benny was unarmed, it didn't mean he was out of the fight as he took Striker head-on, despite his angelic arsenal. He may have been fast, but Benny proved that he was faster with punches and kicks that Striker wasn't ready for; he tried blocking, but that was soon broken with him forced to endure fast, yet strong blows on his upper body. And just when he thought he could slip away from the beatdown, Benny managed to grab him by the back of his jacket.

"Come back here." He growled, pulling Striking back and behind him. Striker wasn't ready for Benny to deliver an offhand-backhand punch, leaving him discombobulated before Benny suddenly braced his feet against the wall behind him and sent a flip kick right at the back of the Southern Imp's head. It sent Striker to the ground, but not for long, as the Imp was getting pissed.

"That the best you got?" Striker asked as he re-engaged the unarmed Benny, throwing a knife at his head, to which the Rorschach demon tilted his head to the side with a crack and had the knife miss. Yet, Striker had plenty of holy blades, pulling out another, but then turning to the Kandarian Dagger on the ground. Realizing that weapon was more sinister and torturous than any other soul-erasing weapon, Striker smiled evilly before taking it and dual-wielding it with his own knife.

"You got guts to carry this one. Too bad I gotta melt them out of ya." that remark did not phase Benny in the slightest, having an expression of silent fury as he re-took a stance, waiting for the cowboy to make his move. Striker came in swinging with precision and deadly accuracy, but barely missed his mark as Benny dashed back and around to keep his distance. When Striker finished his little combo moves, Benny grabbed hold of him, but this time, he wound up jumping onto Striker's shoulder before using his own weight against him in order to throw him to the ground.

Striker just about had it with being tossed to the ground like that, wanting to finish this as quickly as possible. He ran over to the doors, but was not retreating; instead, he wound up making a similar maneuver that Benny and backflipped off the doors, throwing his blessed knife in mid-air as Benny came after him. The blade barely scratched his shoulder as it zoomed past him. Once Striker's feet were back on the ground, the next thing he saw Benny's fist came at him, decking his face. He used the momentum, however, to spin and swing the dagger at him, its bone-made sheath coming off to reveal the true blade of the sacrificial. But while Benny was able to dodge that attempt of a cut, doing another side flip, he wasn't ready for Striker pulling out his gun again and taking a blessed round right to the chest.

"UGH!"

"Hmph," Striker smirked. "You're pretty good, but it's not enough." he holds the dagger in his left hand with his arm outstretched in front of him, and his gun in his right hand at head height. Then he watched as Benny got back on his feet, practically shaking off the pain of the round he just took. "Well now, I'm impressed. Most people wouldn't be able to tank a shot like that."

Benny merely spits in his direction before digging into his wound, pulling out the stuck, still-smoking bullet, and flicking it away. Samael gave him as much as he took away as Benny saw Striker coming in with an upward diagonal left slash-pistol shot and a spinning low leftward slash; and a second combo made up of a spinning downward diagonal right slash and a cartwheel to the left while firing three times. As he got passed that, he delivered his own barrage of high and heavy punches and kicks before grabbing Striker a third time and sending him a flying roundhouse kick to the face.

"Grrr...!" Striker quickly recovered and sent a leaping 360° downward diagonal right slash at Benny, followed by a lunging sword thrust; Benny dodged that and tried to attack again, but not before Strike wound up jumping backward while rapidly firing three shots as a dodge attack. Benny flipped out of the way before pulling out another favored weapon of his, his bloody crowbar. To others, it looked like a simple old blunt instrument, but to Benny, it was something that could be utilized with several different styles of weapons. He demonstrates this by swinging the bat to the left, knocking Striker's gun away, then swinging right, upward, a strike forward with the end of the sharp back end, and a downward swing. Striker was disoriented as Benny started passing the crowbar between his hands and swinging it like a nunchaku for a while ending the combo with a sidekick.

"AUGH!" Striker found himself forced onto his knees as Benny then inserted the back end into his mouth, and kicked the underside of their jaw onto the crowbar's handle. Benny catches the crowbar and puts it away

Blood and teeth spurted out of the Wrath Imp's mouth as he was enraged, getting up to thrust the dagger at Benny, only for the Rorschach to do a spin kick and pull the dagger out of Striker's hands, miraculously catching it in between his legs.

Striker rolled away from Benny and got back to a knee as he aimed his gun at him.

"You're fucking hopeless...!" He snarled as he pulled the trigger, but nothing happened.

"You've had your six." Benny remarked as Striker glared at him, about to reload, but then found something missing; his belt with the gun holsters, blades, and spare bullets was no longer around his waist. He looked towards Benny, who raised his other hand to show that he swiped it from him when he was down; now the tables were turned with Striker being the one unarmed.

Spinning his arm to roll the belt up in a wad, Benny threw it over to Striker, who dodged and desperately through his empty gun over to Benny, who dodged similarly. He then rushed Benny angrily before grabbing hold of his face, his thumb just on top of his one good eye.

"I'll blind you, you one-eyed freak!"

Benny staggered back, and the two leaped through the double doors to another hall just outside the office of the place they were in. Time slowed around Benny as he Striker ready to gouge his out. But as they hit the ground, he managed to grab Striker's wrist and keep his remaining eyesight as they struggled.

"Stubborn...just like your bitch of a brother." That made Benny pissed as he tried to return the favor by going for Striker's eyes, but the two broke off and got back on their feet. Now Striker found himself forced to fight barehanded while Benny had retaken the Kandarian Dagger. He was more desperate now that Benny had his edge, to which the Rorschach Demon now attacked with bold acrobatic slashes and kicks in a style built around relentless aggression. Without his weapons, Striker's only hope was of dodging plenty before trying to Striker, by Benny was just too fast for him. He came in with a right reverse hook kick, a double right slash, a low left kick, and a right stab. Striker began to understand why that dagger of his was so dangerous, feeling the heat his body was giving off with each blow. Benny spun with a slash, then a stab to the gut before he kicked Striker off his feet. He also stabbed Striker in the hand, which was a major blow in more ways than one; taking away a merc's hand was like taking away part of their identity.

The greatest of the cheapest, and he's had just about all he could take as the last thing Striker saw was the Rorschach Demon making another swing at him before everything went dark...

Stella waited in the office of the safe haven, trying to contact any other members of their family. Nobody replied, not even her brother, who she had yet to realize was gonna be out of commission for a while, thanks to the very lesser demon was her right outside the doors. She wanted to contact Lucifer, the Sins, anyone who could hear her out. But she had no gift for strategy, nor was she well-favored, let alone well-known by any one of the controlling powers. Contacting Samael even crossed her mind, but she knew from Stolas that the Moderator of Hell was the one who wanted her dead, so any contact with him would be a death threat.

She was frozen into a corner. Her only hope now was that Striker would finally come through and kill-

(DOORS SLAM OPEN)

"What the fuck?!" She cursed. She was met with her little sword and shield falling face-first onto the floor, all bloodied and broken. All the while, Benny still stood high on his feet, Dagger stashed away now as he still did not look finished with the cowpoke.

"Come on, asswipe." He growled, walking over and grabbing Striker by the sides of his head, then kneeing him in his face, breaking and bloody-ing it even more.

Panicking, Stella stumbled for the gun she had and fired a round that completely missed.

Benny was unfazed by this weak attempt on his life, knowing full well that his mission was near complete.

"...Wait your turn, you do nothing bitch...I'll be with you in one damn second."

"You...worthless...pathetic..." She was running out of insults while the gun trembled in her hand. But before she could fire another round, another shot was heard, hitting the gun out of her hand.

"Ah! Ugh!" She gripped her hand, stunned as both still conscious looked over to the hall to see who fired, it was a surprise to both of them, for different.

"...S-...Samaelll...!"

Indeed. Benny's benefactor and Stella's soon-to-be judge, jury, and soon prosecutor stood at the doors with his own smoking guns, the smile on his face...