Chapter 1: The Coffee Shop and the First Hunt
The last thing Adam remembered was the sickening screech of tires, the blinding flash of headlights, and the abrupt, jarring impact that threw him from his bike. One moment, he was cursing the idiot who'd cut him off, the next, he was… floating. Not in a peaceful, fluffy clouds kind of way, more like a confused, "did I just get hit by a truck or did I accidentally take too much cold medicine?" kind of way. Then, the darkness solidified, and a voice, oddly synthesized yet strangely familiar, echoed in his non-existent ears.
[BEEP-BEEP-BEEP] System Core Activation Initiated.
Adam blinked. Or, he tried to. His eyes weren't exactly cooperating. "System? What in the… is this some kind of fever dream? Did I finally hit my head hard enough to unlock my inner gamer?"
[System] Welcome, Host Adam Stiels. You have been granted the Grimm Bloodline Evolution System. Your bloodline is pure, a direct descendent of the First Grimm. To begin, you must defeat a Wesen and acquire their blood.
Wesen? Grimm? Adam's mental gears, still a bit rusty from the whole "dying" thing, slowly began to turn. Grimm. Like, the TV show Grimm? Nick Burkhardt, Monroe, Portland, the whole nine yards? No way. This has to be a hallucination. Or I've finally gone completely off the deep end.
He tried to move, and suddenly, he could. He was lying in a bed, a surprisingly comfortable one, in a room that definitely wasn't his old apartment. Sunlight streamed through a window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. He sat up, his body feeling… different. Stronger, somehow. Lighter. He ran a hand through his hair, finding it a bit longer than he remembered, and darker. He glanced at his hands. Not his hands. These were… well, they were his now, apparently. Longer fingers, a bit more defined, a subtle strength he hadn't possessed before.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet finding solid ground. He walked to a mirror, half-expecting to see some grotesque monster, but instead, a stranger stared back. Dark, intelligent eyes, a jawline that could cut glass, and a voice that, when he tested it, came out deeper, more resonant than his old one. Okay, so I'm not me. I'm… Adam Stiels. The guy from the fanfic.
A wave of information, not unlike a data dump, flooded his mind. Memories of a life he hadn't lived, a coffee shop he owned in Portland, Oregon. The mundane details of daily routines, the smell of roasted beans, the clatter of ceramic mugs. It was all there, layered over his own memories, creating a bizarre, seamless tapestry.
"So, I died," he muttered, testing the new voice again. "And now I'm… a Grimm. With a system. Because, of course, that's how the universe works. You die, you get reincarnated into a TV show, and suddenly you're the chosen one with a cheat code. Typical."
He walked through the small apartment above the coffee shop, a strange mix of familiarity and foreignness. The aroma of coffee was faint, but present, a comforting anchor in his new, insane reality. He found a laptop, still open on a news page. The headline screamed about a brutal murder, a victim found drained of blood. The police had no leads. Below it, a grainy photo of a crime scene.
Oh, for crying out loud. It's the pilot episode. The Blutbad killer. So, I'm here. Right at the beginning. Post-pilot, actually, if the news report is already out. A wry smile touched his lips. "Well, this is just peachy. Guess I won't be needing that Netflix subscription anymore."
He spent the next few hours exploring his new domain, the coffee shop itself. "The Daily Grind," the sign above the door read. It was a cozy, brick-walled establishment, with mismatched furniture and the lingering scent of espresso. He felt a strange sense of ownership, a primal connection to this place that was now his.
Later that afternoon, the bell above the door jingled, announcing a new customer. Adam looked up from wiping down the counter, and his breath hitched. Standing in the doorway, looking utterly exhausted and carrying a folder, was a man with a haunted look in his eyes. Nick Burkhardt. And behind him, fidgeting nervously, was a tall, lanky man with a perpetually worried expression. Monroe.
Showtime.
Nick ordered a black coffee, his voice gruff. Monroe, after a moment of internal debate, asked for a chamomile tea. Adam, leaning against the counter, watched them with an almost clinical detachment. This was it. The start of everything. He knew their struggles, their triumphs, their heartbreaks. He knew the monsters they would face. And he had a system.
"You know," Adam said, his new voice resonating with a surprising depth that made Monroe visibly flinch, "I've been reading about that case. The one with the… unusual circumstances." He gestured vaguely to the newspaper on the counter. "Seems like something out of a fairy tale, doesn't it?"
Nick's eyes narrowed, a flicker of suspicion in their depths. "You could say that."
Monroe, meanwhile, looked like he was about to bolt. His eyes darted around, clearly feeling the passive Aura of the First Grimm, though he wouldn't know what it was. Poor guy. Must feel like he just walked into a lion's den, and the lion just offered him tea.
"Adam Stiels," he extended a hand to Nick, his grip firm. "Owner of this fine establishment. And, if you'll forgive the rather dramatic introduction… a Grimm."
Nick's jaw dropped, his coffee forgotten. Monroe let out a small, strangled gasp.
"Relax, big guy," Adam said to Monroe, a small, reassuring smile on his face. "I'm not going to eat you. Unless you're secretly made of artisanal pastries. Then, maybe." Monroe still looked terrified, but a tiny bit less so.
"Another Grimm?" Nick finally managed, his voice a disbelieving whisper. "How… how is that possible? My aunt said I was the last one."
"Well, your aunt was a little behind on her family tree research, apparently," Adam quipped, a hint of Stiles's sarcasm creeping into his tone. "Long story short, I'm a distant cousin. Very distant. Like, 'we need a genealogist and a magic eight ball' distant. But Grimm, nonetheless. And I've got a… unique perspective on things." He tapped his temple. "Let's just say I know a few things about what's coming. And what's already here."
Before Nick could interrogate him further, the bell jingled again. A man, slick and smarmy, with eyes that seemed to constantly shift, sauntered in. He was a Fuchsbau, Adam recognized instantly. Even without the woge, the cunning was practically radiating off him.
"You the owner, kid?" the Fuchsbau sneered, looking around the shop with disdain. "Heard you're new in town. Word on the street is, you're not paying your… protection fees."
Adam leaned back against the counter, a casual smirk playing on his lips. "Protection fees? Is that what we're calling extortion these days? How quaint. Look, pal, I'm not paying you squat. This is my shop, and the only thing protecting it is my very large, very well-aimed coffee maker."
The Fuchsbau's eyes narrowed, and for a split second, Adam saw the flicker of fox-like features beneath the human facade. The Wesen woged, his face elongating, teeth sharpening, eyes glowing with a predatory glint. Nick instinctively reached for his sidearm, and Monroe let out a low growl, a protective instinct overriding his fear.
"Big mistake, Grimm," the Fuchsbau snarled, lunging forward.
Adam didn't even flinch. He moved with a speed and grace that surprised even himself, a blur of motion. He sidestepped the Fuchsbau's lunge, grabbed his arm, and twisted, slamming the Wesen face-first into the counter with a resounding thud. The Fuchsbau cried out, stunned, and Adam didn't let up. He pinned him down, his knee on the Wesen's back, a hand twisting his arm behind him.
"Now, about those protection fees," Adam said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl that seemed to vibrate through the Fuchsbau's very bones. The Aura of the First Grimm flared, a silent, invisible force that crushed the Wesen's will. The Fuchsbau whimpered, his woged face contorting in involuntary submission. "You're going to tell me exactly who sent you, who else is involved, and every single 'protection' racket you've ever run in this city. And you're going to do it truthfully. Got it?"
The Fuchsbau, eyes wide with terror and a strange, primal respect, nodded frantically. "Yes! Yes, Grimm! Anything you want!"
Nick and Monroe stared, utterly dumbfounded. Nick's hand was still hovering over his gun, his mouth slightly agape. Monroe looked like he'd seen a ghost, or perhaps a very polite, very terrifying alpha predator.
Adam listened intently as the Fuchsbau spilled his guts, every detail, every name, every location. When he was done, Adam gave a curt nod. "Good boy. Now, get out of my shop. And if I ever see your ugly mug around here again, I'll turn you into a fur coat. Understood?"
The Fuchsbau scrambled to his feet, woging back to human form, and stumbled out of the shop, practically tripping over himself in his haste.
Adam turned back to Nick and Monroe, a faint smirk returning to his face. "See? Much more efficient than paperwork."
[System] First Wesen Defeated. Initiating Blood Extraction Protocol. Wesen Type: Fuchsbau. Extracting... Alchemical Vial Created: Fuchsbau Potion.
A small, glowing vial, filled with a shimmering, fox-colored liquid, materialized in his hand. He quickly tucked it into his pocket, a triumphant gleam in his eyes.
"What… what was that?" Nick finally managed, his voice still hoarse with shock. "How did you… and that thing in your hand?"
"Trade secret, my friend," Adam said, winking. "Let's just say I've got a few tricks up my sleeve. And that 'thing' is going to help us clean up this city. Now, about that coffee, Nick? Still warm, I promise."
This is going to be fun, Adam thought, a genuine, slightly manic grin spreading across his face. Portland, you have no idea what's coming.