McCarthy didn't hesitate in accepting. Just as he feared missing the chance for revenge and felt lost, the offer had brought back meaning to his life.
The agent nodded to his decision, her auburn ponytail bobbing along with her movements. "Welcome to the BPA." She extended her firm hand, and he shook it. "Thank you. I won't let you down."
"As we don't have time to give you the entire training, we will assign you to a more experienced agent." She took out a smartphone and called a number. The next moment an emaciated man came into the room.
He wore a cheap brown suit with a white shirt and blue tie, matching his eyes. "This is senior agent Luther Ansen. Luther, this is our new recruit and your temporary partner, Alastor McCarthy. I'll leave the two of you to get familiar with each other." She turned her emotionless face to Luther. "Luther, you have all the details on the case. I'll be waiting on updates."
This said, she got up and left. The air between the two men was a little uncomfortable. "Nice to meet you." McCarthy attempted by extending his hand. Luther ignored the extended hand and started speaking.
"Yeah, nice. Look, newbie, you have no idea what you've gotten into, and I'm too busy to babysit you. So here's how we are going to do things," he took out a card from his breast pocket and set it on the table.
"This is the address of the San Francisco office. Go there and ask for Cheryl; She will give you a rundown of the supes situation in the city and make you somewhat usable to run errands. I already have a lead and can't waste any more time here. Bye." Luther said and left without waiting for an answer.
McCarthy took the card and followed Luther out. When he was out of the building, he realized he had no car and had to call and wait almost half an hour for a taxi to pick him up.
He showed the address to the taxi driver, and after an hour of driving, the taxi brought him to the main branch of the public library of San Francisco.
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Luther had followed a trail of clues from a furniture shop, where camera footage had placed Robert's landing after the building explosion, to a cemetery where the van owned by the shop owner had abandoned.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
A faint cone of light coming from a streetlamp shone right above the white van with the name of the furniture shop on the side.
Luther looked around warily and readied his weapon, a shotgun with incendiary bullets. "Why would they stop here?" He went closer to the abandoned van and, to his surprise, effortlessly opened the doors. In the penumbra, he saw the corpse of the shop owner lying on the floor.
Luther decided to inform the headquarters. "Agent Ansen here. I found the van next to the national cemetery, the shop owner is dead, but I don't see the target. I'll call you back after examing the scene."
He stepped inside to examine the man, but suddenly he felt a chill in his back as he noticed a pair of red eyes staring at him from the dark. Cold sweat moved down his back as he realized- "I fucked up."
"Indeed." Spoke the voice behind the eyes. The doors to the van closed up with a bang.
With a swift movement, Luther raised his shotgun and clicked the trigger. However, the trigger felt immovable. "Don't worry. Happens to the best of us. Need a hand?" He heard the voice mocking him. In response, he used the gun like a club to fight back.
As he was about to hit him, he suddenly flew up, hitting his head on the van's roof. He tried getting up, but he realized he was no longer on the floor. He floated in the air, arms and legs spread in an " X."
"So cruel, you tried to beat up poor old cripple me." A fire appeared in the air, flooding the van with light. Luther could finally see the demon, Robert. He was naked, most of his body charred black or bleeding, he missed an eye, and his right arm looked broken. But the most striking feature was the pair of jet-black horns on his head.
"Robert Sandford!" Luther tried calling his true name. On demons, it had the effect of destabilizing their soul and restricting their use of magic.
"Sorry, I can't hear you." Robert pointed to his ears or the stumps there instead of his ears. "In case you tried the name trick, I have to say, it is effective but so easy to counter once you learn of its existence." He chuckled darkly.
"Now, I will ask you a few simple questions, and you will write down the answers. Otherwise..." Robert focused, and Luther suddenly felt an indescribable pain coming from his left leg.
Under the brown cloth, his skin turned yellow, brown, and finally black. Pus trickled down as the leg went through express necrosis, shrinking and eventually breaking off like a dead twig. Luther screamed for the whole process, almost five minutes straight. At the end of it, his forehead was covered in pearls of sweat, and his throat ached.
"So, ready for jolly cooperation? Or do you want your family to bury a torso? No significant difference for me. As long as you can hold a pen, I have a lot of non-fatal areas to play with." The demon said gleefully and placed paper and pen in Luther's hand.
"Now, question number one. Who are you guys?"