It was nine in the morning at Los Angeles.
Over Jack Milburn's head was the deep blue cloudless sky stretching to
the far beyond.
Reflected before his eyes was the Californian blue ocean. Venice Beach in
summer was so crowded with people who came to frolic in the water that it
was impossible to find peace and quiet.
However, the expression on Jack's face was quite depressed.
[1]Jack worked for the Los Angeles branch of Sorcerous Sacrilege
Investigation (SSI), the government agency in charge of investigating and
concealing all incidents pertaining to magic and supernatural phenomena.
John Pluto Smith's death at this location happened a week ago. In front of
the eyes of Jack and hundreds of ordinary citizens, he was killed.
"One who has slain gods -- John Pluto Smith! You were truly strong, and
even if all the magi in the world were gathered together, you would still
prevail. However... It's too late, much too late!"
At that time, Asherah was laughing madly in a frightening manner.
The witch at the helm of a sorcery association -- the divine ancestor
Asherah, bragged arrogantly as the victor.
"Though our organization, [King of Flies], has met defeat many times at
your hands, we continued to accumulate the essence of water and earth!
Absorbing the malevolence and delusional obsessions of the ignorant
masses! Now, I have finally taken form as the heretic Leviathan!
Hahahahaha, can you feel the divine power overflowing from my body? My
rank is now equivalent to yours, for I have become someone at the same
level as a Campione -- the Heretic Serpent! Savor this well!"
In contrast to her vile and ferocious nature, Asherah's body was tiny.
The slender body of the beautiful young girl was lost as it began to
transform and expand.
Her arms contracted while her legs combined into one, her torso
lengthened, her neck extended, a layer of scales covered her once smooth
skin, and her beautiful face turned reptilian.
In just a few tens of seconds, the witch Asherah transformed into a giant
serpentine monster.
Sweeping through Venice Beach was a demonic snake over fifty meters
long. Probably the height of a twenty-story building if extended straight
from head to tail, its scales were a shiny silvery-white in color, with beauty
that could only be described as otherworldly grandeur.
Facing such a monster, John Pluto Smith challenged his opponent with
initiative.
He is a veteran with a decade of shocking experiences. His opponents
included fearsome sorcerers, fairies who possessed the ability to control
nature, and massive demonic beasts that could easily destroy a city... He
had fought and prevailed over all these formidable foes.
Having gone through so many struggles to the death, how could he lose to
a mere big snake --
"Smith! You can't, don't go over there!"
For some reason, Jack felt he had to stop him. Jack had been selected by
the SSI for his magical aptitude, and now his instincts warned against a
powerful enemy, but Smith replied:
"Can your concerns wait, Jack? To refuse a lady's invitation to dance...
That is not my style. Besides, I cannot run away from this situation."
As usual, his voice was full of confidence, and he was wearing a black
mask with a black cape.
Held in his gloved hand was a steel-colored magic gun. Running towards
his opponent as his long cape fluttered, Jack had witnessed this view of his
back many times over the past year or so.
In the past, Jack would always find him returning victorious, bragging
casually:
"Wait for the alcohol to deliver to your home in celebration of our little
victory... Tonight's starry sky is particularly clear, so let us watch the same
night sky from our respective locations and have a good toast!"
John Pluto Smith was a man who acted like a perfect courtier. No matter
what kind of crisis he faced, he never forgot to maintain a casual attitude.
Even the friend who accompanied him through life and death situations
had never seen his true face. Even having a drink with him was not
allowed. Smith was a man who embodied secrecy.
...In the end, just as Jack's premonition foretold, that man did not return.
In battles to the death against gods, the masked hero had always emerged
victorious.
However, the massive silvery white serpent's choice of action was to
self-destruct by explosion --
Seeming to ignite the "essence of water and earth" stored within its body, it
planned to take down the hero and the area of Venice Beach along with
itself. However, John Pluto Smith grabbed the giant snake tightly and
pulled it into the water, using all his might to distance them from the shore.
Thus, the two mortal enemies died together in the explosion.
And just like that, the hero was dead.
But the [King of Flies] was not disbanded, and Jack took out his cellphone.
He dialed a certain number recorded in his phone.
The call failed to connect... Was this a joke of fate? In the end, they had
missed each other and all he could do was leave her a voice message.
"It's been a while, Allison. It's me, Jack... Actually I wanted to tell you face
to face, but there is not enough time for that. I'm sorry, I can only inform
you like this --"
Having left his farewell message, Jack hung up. Goodbye, my beloved.
Goodbye, John Pluto Smith. Jack bid farewell to everyone precious to him
one after another.
Part 2
Los Angeles. A major ethnic melting pot and important economical and
industrial center.
The capital of sin swirling with crime, the metropolis where decadence and
prosperity coexisted, hidden in this chaotic city were many who dabbled in
the ways of the supernatural.
Those who sold their morality and conscience to the devil and obtained
supernatural demonic powers in return --
In other words, the sorcerers.
The reason why they used Los Angeles as their base was due to the
search for the "Angel's Remains" buried in this land, a holy relic that was
thought to grant the possessor absolute magical power.
Although the rumor was never substantiated, it was an indisputable fact
that more sorcerers were gathered in this city than any other.
Their natural enemy only emerged during the latter half of the 1990s.
Possessing magic power surpassing any sorcerer's, he also had the ability
to transform into non-human forms. The undefeated man who ran through
the darkness of the night casting spells, turning himself into an invincible
giant, and shooting magic bullets.
At the beginning, he replied with answers like "John Smith" or "John Doe"
whenever people asked for his name.
Just like a pseudonym tagged on an unidentified corpse. However, to the
citizens who heard his legends and witnessed his silhouette, he was
named after the great ruler of the underworld.
And so, John Pluto Smith was born.
All sorcerers feared him; the people revered and worshiped him.
It was three in the afternoon, in the area of Los Feliz.
Consistent with California's dry climate, it was bright and sunny as usual.
But Jack wasn't in the mood to take his beloved SUV out for a spin to enjoy
the sunny weather. Leaving his car in the parking lot at Samantha
University, he walked to the humanities faculty, his destination was the
foreign languages department.
He entered the building of a certain research facility.
--But there was no one present.
None of the usual students or staff were there. Presuming a "barrier" had
been erected by the person he was visiting, Jack knocked on the door of
his lab.
"Hello, Jack. Unfortunately, the situation does not look positive."
"In other words, Asherah's revival ceremony will take place tonight?"
Joe West nodded in confirmation.
A world-renowned researcher in the field of fantasy literature, he was an
elderly African American, a precious benevolent mage as well as John
Pluto Smith's collaborator.
The old man who assisted the hero for the past decade currently had his
entire right leg below the knee wrapped in a cast.
"That's right. With tonight's position of the moon and the stars, as well as
the flow of the spiritual ley lines... Everything is aligned for the perfect
opportunity. The [King of Flies] will not miss this opportunity."
Professor West sighed deeply.
A benevolent mage like him was in the extreme minority in North America.
This was because during the British colonial era, there were overt witch
hunts and oppression from European Puritan immigrants, as well as
treaties and resistance from local spirit worship... All sorts of dark and
unsavory events have been buried in history.
"After that, the members of [King of Flies] have not slowed their activities.
That particular point has made me suspicious, to think they made
preparations for this. Really, who could have expected such things!"
Over the past week, the [King of Flies] continued their operations.
Clearly an evil cult-like organization sustained by twisted faith and lacking
in reason, one would have expected such a group to fall apart after the
demise of the strong leader.
However, the sorcerers were pursuing a strategy of conciliation or even
brainwashing against the Los Angeles Police Department (LAPD) and the
upper echelons of the SSI. Due to the death of their natural enemy, they
were engaging in daring tactics that would have been unthinkable in the
past. The situation had developed into the current state where the front line
members of the organization like Jack were the only ones still fighting.
"...But professor, how did Asherah survive that giant explosion? When
even Smith who pulled her into the water died, how on earth did she live
on after that suicide explosion!?"
This past week, he had been diligently searching for the reason why the
[King of Flies] did not fall apart.
Having worked as a police officer in criminal investigations, this sort of
thing was familiar to him, and he finally found some clues.
The self-destructed divine ancestor Asherah survived, and her
wound-covered body had been retrieved. Though still unconscious, she
was alive and guarded by the core members of the [King of Flies].
Recently, they have occupied themselves with preparing the ritual to revive
their leader.
"...Heretic Leviathan, she is the immortal snake, one who can resurrect
after death. Don't you find that unbelievable? Smith, the one who never
lost, why would he go down together with his enemy this time?"
From Professor West's worried tone of voice, Jack recalled the noble
bearing he witnessed that night.
"That snake's name is Leviathan, the horrifying sea monster feared in
legends all over the world, passed down human stories as the image of the
snake bringing disaster... [Gods], there are many examples of snake
goddesses with the attribute of immortality. It is probably thanks to this that
she survived her attempted mutual destruction with Smith."
"An immortal goddess? Outrageous!"
Hearing his reflexive answer, the professor calmly asked with a tired smile:
"Do you know the reason why Smith is called the God-slayer?"
"I thought it was just to describe his supernatural qualities, an exaggerated
metaphor."
"No, it is exactly as the description. He is a warrior who killed gods and
usurped powerful authorities... That's right, he is a god killing warrior."
Champion. The chosen warrior. King. Jack recalled these majestic titles.
True, perhaps it was the best description for that masked hero.
"The only one capable of standing up to a god-slayer is a god or another
god-slayer. This principle is absolute. That's basically what happened with
that divine ancestor Asherah, who transformed from a demon of an evil cult
into the snake deity Leviathan."
"But how could a person become a god!"
"True, an ordinary mortal cannot, but she is no mere mortal... She's not
called 'divine ancestor' for naught. Sigh, how did it come to this! What a
tragedy!"
Professor West's intellectual face showed a pained expression, sighing
inexplicably. Even for someone like Jack who had little in-depth knowledge
about magic, he still understood how dire the current situation was.
"Anyway, if Asherah revives tonight, it is the end for us. I don't think that
witch will let us live."
"Probably. But to be honest, I can't agree with your proposal."
"But we have no choice. In order to stop Asherah from reviving, the only
way is to slip into the scene of the ceremony. Luckily after the battle with
Smith, the [King of Flies]'s numbers have been thinned!"
For those people like Jack and West who fought against sorcerers all this
time, Asherah's revival would take away the last of their hopes.
"Jack, don't be impulsive. Smith is not confirmed dead yet. He is a man like
a phoenix. If the enemy hasn't died, then his survival is very likely!"
"It's already been a week, if he's still alive, why didn't he contact us?"
Jack refuted the old man's comforting words with pessimism.
No matter how much he surpassed ordinary humans, he could not have
survived that massive explosion.
"You've lost your cool because Smith is not here. Calm down and think
things through carefully."
"Yes, that guy's death has clearly affected me, but I am calm. After
pondering calmly I have concluded thus, if I want to protect everything, this
is the most effective way."
"What are you trying to protect?"
"Yes, to protect this city, people like you, and well as everything I treasure."
"How conceited. What could someone like you protect!"
"I know my limits, but the man who could protect us is no longer here.
However... No, precisely because of that, I have to do what I can do, even
though my power is meager. I don't want to flee the responsibility that
comes with knowing the current crisis situation."
Hearing Jack's plea, Professor West could only shake his head.
"Really... You are hopelessly stubborn, why does Smith only associate with
such strange people! If this leg of mine was good, I could go with you!"
"No way, I can't have anyone dragging me down."
The old man's right leg in a cast, still required some time to recover.
"I know, you fool! To be honest... I also understand that someone has to do
this."
Jack bumped fists with the old professor's extended right fist.
The two smiled wryly. Not only John Pluto Smith, but this old man was also
a rare companion and comrade. This was the moment to recognize this
relationship.
"Let me advise you, it's enough to just disrupt the ritual, I'll show you how.
Do not force yourself. I have been considering recruiting another warrior of
Smith's peers, though it's very irresponsible, we also have the choice of
leaving things to that person."
"A person who can match that man? How could another superhuman like
that exist in this world --"
"Of course there are, but inviting them for assistance requires some
troublesome negotiations."
Jack's protest was instantly refuted.
"Even if he agrees to be recruited to our cause, it doesn't mean he will
follow our orders obediently. He might even cause other problems, and the
price for defeating our enemies could very well be the destruction of the
entire city of Los Angeles -- if Smith will come back, there is no need for us
to gamble on such a double-edged option."
"Who could that be... Someone like a fallen angel or a devil king?"
Hearing this comment, Professor West smiled lightly.
"Your comparison is very apt. Yes, correct, they are truly the devil kings...
Good, I am going to hand you the trump card now. Jack, may you be
blessed by fortune."
Fortune's blessing, this was assuredly the power most hated by the
sorcerers.
The power of fortune accumulated over the ages. The blessing of the
fairies and the elves. That power had the ability to neutralize evil magic
and curses, purifying them.
The good fortune stockpiled by a first rate mage like West, definitely could
bring tangible benefits to the receiver.
"Use it when the ritual reaches its peak, do you have a suitable container?"
The Professor made a glance towards his table, where stationery, books
and notes were messily scattered all over.
"A container... is that for placing the blessing?"
"Yes, but the blessing cannot be injected into any object. It has to be
something you've frequently used over the years, a rare item made by a
famous craftsman, or spell focus infused with magical power... If it's not
one of those types, fortune's power cannot be poured into it."
This reminded Jack of something.
"If that's the case, maybe this thing can be used?"
Jack opened the briefcase in his hand, and took out a gun the color of
steel--
Seeing this, Professor West swallowed hard.
"This gun... I thought it disappeared along with Smith."
"It was left behind during the battle with Asherah, and I recovered it."
The six-shot large caliber revolver. The color of blunt and heavy steel, its
exterior gave a solid and resolute feeling.
This was not an ordinary manufactured gun, but the unique magic gun
forged personally for John Pluto Smith.
"If only I was able to use this thing."
"Impossible, this gun was forged by a dark elven metalworker living in the
Astral Plane, gathering extremely rare Eorl steel. Since it was forged
specifically for Smith, no one else can use it, but it would make a most
appropriate container."
Professor West took out the magic gun with great reverence, slowly
stroking the body of the gun, chanting an incantation as if making a prayer.
"Pray that good fortune follows you, Jack, what you need most is exactly
unparalleled luck!"
Leaving the research lab on his way to the parking lot, Jack met her.
"Jack, it has been a while. What's troubling you? Why is your expression
so solemn?"
A voice filled with rationality was striking up a conversation. Jack stopped
his heavy footsteps. Though he didn't have the leisure for a chat right now,
he couldn't ignore the owner of this voice.
"Hello Annie. Come to think of it, we haven't met recently."
"That is because I went away on a trip, and only returned yesterday."
Annie Charlton spoke with her usual stiff expression.
She was Professor West's research assistant, a Caucasian graduate
student with vibrant red hair that appeared as if on fire and cut in a short
refreshing style. This was one of her most memorable features, as well as
her women's suit in black.
"A trip... How enviable, did you have fun?"
"Well enough, there were some good and bad things. In terms of a
cost/income ratio, probably break-even exactly, so it was not especially
fun."
In response to Jack's casual conversation, Annie's reply was especially
stiff.
A cool beauty akin to an ice sculpture, she was rational, calm, reserved,
extremely observant, and possessed an air of intellect and upbringing. If
only she had some gentle feminine charm, she would be completely
perfect. Regrettably, God did not prepare such a gift for her.
She was the woman regarded as beautiful and reliable, but completely
removed from the description of "cute."
"I'm sorry, I have to go now, there's a full schedule."
"Is that so? My apologies for taking up your time."
It was going to get busy. Hearing Jack cut the conversation short, Annie
lightly shrugged her shoulders and answered without raising an eyebrow,
adding:
"Let us have a good chat another time. If you are free, I do hope you can
make time for it."
"Got it, let us chat again then."
Jack replied wryly, for her social awkwardness was a little strange.
Though she did not act like the passionate and forthcoming American
stereotype, Annie Charlton was definitely not lacking in emotions. She just
wasn't good at expressing them.
Bidding goodbye to the research assistant he met by chance, Jack walked
over to his beloved car.
By the way, Annie's workplace currently had a "barrier," though Jack
wanted to warn her, he discarded the notion -- it would take too long to
explain.
As soon as Jack got in his car, he totally forgot about her.
Part 3
In the end, the trump card did not accomplish its intended purpose.
Disheartened, Jack stared at the ritual under way.
As the sun set, night had descended. The full moon was occupying a
position high in the sky slightly to the west.
On the decks of the luxurious passenger ship docked at the pier of Long
Beach, there were around fifty people of both genders and all ages
dressed in exotic costumes, reminding one of the Venice Carnival.
--No, everyone had arrived.
Wearing all sorts of suits, capes, hats or wraps, it was like an anachronistic
fashion show.
They also wore masks that only showed the eyes, with all sorts of intricate
masks.
This was not a costume party held on a whim by a group of leisurely
gentlemen and ladies. They were all sorcerers belonging to [King of Flies],
demons gathered here for the revival of the divine ancestor Asherah.
However, virtually all of them were critically injured and covered with blood,
on their last dying breaths.
...Going back to the events that happened an hour ago.
Under the cover of this evening banquet that seemed like a joke, the
sorcerers had gathered together, laying the sleeping coffin of the divine
ancestor in the center, waiting for the ritual to begin when the moon
reached the peak of the sky.
Tonight, no one on the ship was an ordinary person. All crew and staff
were members of the [King of Flies].
Except one. Jack Milburn had disguised himself, wearing a black cape and
a tuxedo with a mask.
"Gods granting us protection, pray bestow your blessing to our queen!"
"Gods granting us protection, pray bestow your blessing to our queen!"
Forming a circle, everyone was chanting some strange incantation,
immersed in the ritual of sorcery.
Jack showed a displeased expression and mouthed responses along with
them.
Though he had never received any training, his aptitude in magic allowed
him to sense that magical power was increasing. It was almost time.
Thanks to his thick cape, concealing the magic gun was not an issue.
The lack of a body search made Jack feel less tense.
Feeling the magic gun under his cape, he muttered the words to himself:
"by this good fortune, pray grant me your blessing." Its effects were instant,
immediately negating all magic in the area, causing the ritual to halt in
failure.
However, the sorcerers then said:
--It failed.
--If this continues, we have failed the divine ancestor. What shall we do?
--If we wait for the next full moon to attempt the regeneration ceremony
again, how will the revived divine ancestor punish our failures?
--I think we have no choice. Yes, then the answer is clear.
--Ok, let's do that, if the moon is only slightly off, we can solve this with our
bodies.
"Gods granting us protection, pray bestow your blessing to our queen!"
The sorcerers' ritual began once again.
What were they planning? The one who was not a sorcerer, Jack's
question was immediately answered.
A cult follower's head exploded suddenly.
Blood, flesh, skin, brains, bones, and bodily fluids were sent flying
everywhere, splattering all over the deck and the other members.
"Gods granting us protection, pray bestow your blessing to our queen!"
However, the group chanting did not stop, and another explosion occurred.
A follower's hands, another's abdomen, the neck of the one beside him,
the cult members fell down in turn with a series of body part explosions.
Dead without a doubt, there was no need to even check. Jack was
completely certain.
"Gods granting us protection, pray bestow your blessing to our queen!"
Yet another died. So that's what they meant by solving with their bodies!
At this time, the coffin opened with a creak. It seemed like it was opened
from inside.
"I am the heavens. Thou, tremblest before me! I am the earth. Thou,
cursest me!"
From within the coffin, a young brown-haired girl stood up.
Her age definitely no more than ten and a half, she had a beautiful face
like an angel.
[2]"Enlil be my head, and the light of the midday be my face!"
The young girl chanted the holy verses loud and clearly.
A voice crisp as the ringing of a bell and full of seduction, somehow it gave
Jack a sense of discomfort with goosebumps.
[3]"My protector is the incomparable goddess Uras ! My neck wears the
[4]necklace of the goddess Ninlil !"
The embodiment of tender immature beauty, her eyes were turning vicious,
however.
It could be described as a savage countenance, for that gaze and facial
expression looked as if she was about to tear apart everything within her
sight.
"My hands are the scythes of the moon shining in the western sky! My
fingers are the willow branches formed from the bones of the revered
gods."
The young girl took off the red robe she was wearing.
Her naked skin completely laid bare, the thin and small torso did not carry
an ounce of fat, and the body was also lacking in exquisite curves.
However, this emphasized its beauty -- the sort akin to unripened fruit, an
innocent and undeveloped beauty that is lost to mature women.
But what caught Jack's eye most of all were the wounds carved all over the
young girl's body.
Upon the white complexion of her back, chest, abdomen, waist, legs and
neck.
As if her skin had been stretched by some external force, leaving behind
what appeared to be burns, there were red and black wounds distributed
all over the body.
Pus was continually seeping out from the bloody wounds, and the sight
alone made one feel painful.
Clearly the red stains on the robe the girl took off, must have been the
result of this blood.
"Gods granting us protection, pray drive out the demonic curse in this
[5] [6]body! O Lugal Edinnu , O La-Tarak , ye be my chest and knees! O stars
[7]of the constellations , grant unto me strong and healthy legs!"
The frightful voice of the lovely young girl resounded through the sky.
She was the master of the ritual, she was the ruler, she was the head of
the [King of Flies], the divine ancestor Asherah!
"Gods granting us protection, pray bestow your blessing to our queen!"
In coordination with Asherah's sacred words, the people surrounding her
chanted quietly.
Praying in unison, the people gathered here, their faith and piety were
completely flawless.
But the object of their faith was the witch bringing disaster, and the
precepts they offered themselves to were those of an evil cult. Such
actions of faith could only be described as anti-establishment.
The believers fell one after another, dying in succession.
"Gods granting us protection, pray bestow your blessing to our queen!"
The group chanting never stopped. With each new explosion, one more
person died.
Standing in the center, Asherah's wounds were healed one by one as each
believer exploded.
The red and black scars gradually lessened, the pus-oozing skin
recovered, and the bleeding stopped. In what seemed like an instant, the
majority of the wounds on the witch's body had disappeared, other than on
her back. Her pure white complexion was so pristine that it could reflect the
silvery moonlight. By this point, only three or four surviving believers
remained.
Jack made his decision. Since things have come to this, his only choice
was to defeat Asherah personally and then leave.
He pulled out his concealed automatic pistol.
From roughly ten meters away from Asherah, he aimed and fired at the
abdomen, followed by the right leg and left leg. All the bullets reached their
targets, but no harm was done!
This witch could not be hurt by guns alone!?
"I was thinking what kind of stray wandered into here, but it's you. I
remember you as the dog of John Pluto Smith."
One vicious glare from her shattered Jack's mask. The horrifying feeling
carried in her cute voice made Jack feel like his internal organs were
frozen.
"Servants, offer me your lives! This is an order!"
Asherah commanded her believers as she stared at Jack with eyes of
despise as if looking at worthless rubbish.
The remaining believers instantly exploded all at once. Heads, bodies, and
limbs were blown to smithereens, spattering the area with blood and the
stench of death.
--That's right, the witch's small body no longer had any wounds, and was
completely healed.
Asherah had revived in splendor.
She was the ruler of these dismembered corpses scattered all around, as
well as the witch of this blood-stained space. This was the embodiment of
death and violent abuse. In front of her, Jack Milburn was just an
insignificant and powerless flunkie, without a single chance of victory.
Jack threw his gun onto the deck. Even in this kind of hopeless situation,
he did not abandon his last and only hope. Reaching under his cape, he
pulled out a revolver from the holster on his back.
The steel-colored magic gun, the bow used to fire the black-clad hero's
magic bullets. Jack aimed the muzzle at the witch.
"Oh, you still wish to struggle? But what kind of trick can you pull out?"
Asherah's vicious face showed a twisted smile.
She considered the magic gun aimed at her completely harmless.
"I know very well, that ugly lump of steel is the toy used by John Pluto
Smith, and not something that could be used by the likes of you, get a
clue!"
Seeing the relic of the deceased hero before her, the witch could not help
but jeer.
"This chunk of metal does not shoot lead bullets. It is the rare artifact
specially created for firing the magic arrows John Pluto Smith usurped from
the moon goddess Artemis. It would be different for a [King] of his level...
But trash like you won't even be able to pull the trigger!"
Asherah's mockery was perfectly reasonable.
He had already tried many times, but no matter how hard Jack pulled, the
hammer did not budge at all. However, this was the only weapon left that
could damage the inhuman witch.
Accompanying his prayers, the hammer finally cocked, and the trigger was
depressed.
Unlike a normal muzzle flash, what fired out was a bright light similar to
blue-white lightning.
The bright flash transformed into a blue dragon of light, piercing the divine
ancestor Asherah through the bottom of one of her tiny breasts, exiting her
back and ascending into the center of the heavens.
Jack watched in shock at what took place before him.
Success was completely unexpected, for he was just struggling and
gambling without hope. Just as Asherah pointed out, this magic gun was
not a tool that Jack could use.
"--Ugh! Impossible, how could this...!?"
Vomiting blood, Asherah roared in pain. Yes, how?
Clack clack clack clack. This was a very familiar sound. Clack clack clack
clack. The sound of metal tipped boots striking the ground, those
distinctive footsteps were approaching.
It was the man with no sense of timing, who always appeared at the
climax, the casual footsteps of the latecomer.
Every time Jack heard these footsteps he would wonder. Clearly tardy, but
never displaying any embarrassment, a complete lack of frantic haste, the
leisurely footsteps of that man.
"Impossible...! How, how could you be here!?"
"What a pointless question. Aren't you people the ones who call me Pluto
the king of the underworld?"
With an elegant tenor voice, he refuted Asherah's question.
Concealing his face was a mask made from black armor. Like the safety
helmet of a racecar driver's, the visor was like the compound eyes of an
insect.
"Could it be that you assumed that I was defeated in the last battle? If
that's the case, you underestimate me. As the king of the underworld, I do
have to visit home once every now and then, oh?"
Fluttering his black cape like a vampire, he approached slowly.
Beneath the cape, he was dressed like an early modern European
aristocrat in courtly attire, in a high class blue-themed outfit.
The elegance of his every move, reminded one of an experienced
theatrical actor, but his height was not that impressive, and his figure was
rather slender.
"Even if I died and visited the underworld, one day I will return to the earth.
This is a law of nature, and if you can't even predict that, divine ancestor
Asherah, you are too foolish. The cause of your defeat is your own
stupidity."
"Mmmm--! Damn John Pluto Smith! You detestable god-slayer!"
The powerful witch glared menacingly at the masked aristocrat.
It was true, his name was John Pluto Smith after all.
"It's great to see you in such fine spirits, Jack. Have you finally taken an
interest in my beloved attire? This is cause for celebration."
The black mask vibrated from his smile.
John Pluto's sight was now drawn to the black cape and tuxedo worn by
Jack. Standing beside him in such attire, it was really like a costume ball.
"Let me make myself clear, I don't share your interest in costume play.
Don't compare me to your pathological interest in dressing up. I only did it
because I had no other way to slip in here undetected!"
"In that case, then let tonight be the first step in cultivating such an
interest!"
He was smiling happily on the deck of this luxurious passenger ship, where
dead bodies were strewn everywhere.
Bathed under the light of the full moon, the glamorous hero showed off his
handsome appearance to all around.
There was no other lead in the spotlight apart from him. Even the fearful
existence of Asherah was nothing in the presence of John Pluto Smith.
"Listen well, Jack, tonight we are the victors, the joint victory of we who
share similar tastes, should we not have a great celebration together?"
Jack couldn't help but be perplexed by John Pluto's victory declaration.
"Victory? Smith, don't be careless. The battle is not over yet!"
"It's over... Am I right, Asherah?"
He turned to face the otherworldly witch with his visor.
Despite having her heart pierced by the flash of light from the magic gun,
Asherah was still alive.
However, she looked like she did not even have the strength to stand.
Kneeling upon the deck, massive amounts of blood were flowing from the
giant hole in her chest. Though coughing blood nonstop, she was alive.
The bloodshot eyes of the witch, cursed frightfully at the black mask.
"This gun is a tool existing only to shoot my power. If I am not present, it is
a useless piece of metal as you say. However, as long as I am near and
activate my authority, other shooters can use it."
So that was the reason, which was why Jack could pull the trigger just
now.
Hearing his friend's explanation, Jack finally understood.
"Due to my absence, you were carelessly hit by Artemis' arrow. Even for
the Heretic Snake, you cannot reverse the tides of battle at this point. It is
our victory."
The immensely powerful magic gun did have its restrictions.
Its ammunition was refilled only once a lunar cycle, and could only be fired
six times each month.
On the other hand, it was extremely powerful. A bullet fired from this magic
gun, transformed into an ascending blue dragon of light, penetrating
buildings, vaporizing thick rock, and could even reshape landscape.
The trajectory could be controlled by the shooter's will to chase after
enemies. According to rumors, if the power of all six bullets was
concentrated and compressed, much greater firepower could be produced.
As implied by the name of the magic gun, it was like a weapon of demons.
"Jack... Actually I already returned to Los Angeles a few hours ago, and I
found out about your plan. Though I could have stopped you, I had to
observe silently in anticipation of this development."
"What did you say? Smith, you keep treating others like tools --"
"What a heart-breaking assessment. I truly believe in my friends, that is
why I entrusted my hopes to you... That is how you should interpret
things."
What outrageous words, Smith's style was like a reckless gambler,
everything goes as long as there was a happy ending.
Everything was back to business as usual. Having complained, Jack
snorted in protest. If the guy acted any differently, he would not be the
masked friend he knew from before!
"Don't get too full of yourself, John Pluto Smith! I am not finished here! Do
not underestimate me, the descendant of the immortal snake!"
Asherah roared loudly! Her lovely features were stained red with blood,
and she was howling with a face as hideous as a demon.
Her bloodstained body flew into the sky and began to expand and
transform, turning into the massive serpent witnessed a week ago.
"Of course I haven't forgotten, but I've already seen through your little trick,
it is no longer a threat."
John Pluto Smith fluttered his cape just like last time.
"Leave the ship first. I'd like to have good drink tonight, so let us drink
together till dawn, to celebrate the success of driving this witch out of Los
Angeles!"
The unsociable and secretive man.
The man who refused normal friendship and never revealed his identity.
Jack was shocked by the proposal that went counter to Smith's usual
behavior. And so the showdown, between the masked hero and the witch
who turned into a snake, entered its finishing stage.
Part 4
The luxurious passenger ship was entangled by the giant silvery-white
snake.
Compared to the three-hundred-meter long, sixty-meter tall ship weighing
over fifteen thousand tons, the massive snake no longer seemed that big,
but the solemn atmosphere was still present.
This time, the beautiful body of the snake was covered with wounds and
stained red by massive amounts of blood.
The night sky was obscured by thunder clouds. As lightning descended
upon the surface, the target of the thunder god's hammer was the ship
rather than the massive silver-white serpent.
Thunderous roars and crashes, flashes and flames.
Struck by lightning, the luxurious passenger ship turned into an unusual
bonfire.
Amidst the flames, stood a giant.
His appearance was rather extraordinary, however. Standing tall at fifteen
meters or so, possessing a well-proportioned body, with pitch black skin as
dark as night, and horizontal striped facial markings of black and yellow.
Also, the right foot alone appeared to be obsidian instead of flesh.
Reflecting the seductive moonlight, it was made of shining rock.
Covering the giant body was brightly colored fabric in red, orange and
black, with avian feathers giving a strange turkey-like appearance. The
wooden cylinder hanging on his back carried a couple of spears.
It was a strange appearance bearing great similarity to a shaman of some
primitive religion.
[Archmage]. John Pluto Smith's strongest transformation.
The strange-looking giant and the silvery-white serpent fought each other,
completely destroying the pier and what remained of the ship. Very clearly,
the giant held the advantage. As predicted, the outcome had already been
decided from the moment the magic bullet was shot.
Sparks surrounded the entire body of the black mage, giving off powerful
lightning strikes.
Striking the silver scales, the burning hot lightning scorched the flesh
beneath, causing Asherah's giant serpentine body to squirm and writhe
violently.
"Excellent, your demise is imminent, if you're still planning on blowing
yourself up, now is the time."
From the mouth of the mage came John Pluto Smith's voice.
"However, Asherah, I suspect you no longer have the strength for that?
The suicide explosion last time had consumed all of the essence of dragon
pulse that took you multiple years to accumulate. You have lost."
"Damn it, you dare obstruct the second coming of the great earth mother,
devil king! You god-slayer!"
The silvery-white serpent spoke in vengeful tones with Asherah's voice, but
John Pluto Smith's response was both calm and cold.
"Correct. I am the devil king, as well as the god-slayer... That is why I
show you no mercy."
Carrying the will of obliteration, the hero and the devil king declared.
"In order to destroy you, let me tell you about my greatness -- as the
omnipotent one, all citizens exist for my use. The people are my slaves, I
am the wind of the night, I rule the earth and the sky, I am the most noble
mage!"
These were spell words.
Spell words of annihilation that destroyed oneself along with the enemy, it
was a secret art of transformation that ensured mutual destruction.
The body of the shaman suddenly dispersed into mist. Gathered around
the mist were electrical sparks which gave off the sound of thunder.
"I am the axe of the night that calls forth termination! The god of creation
and destruction!"
The electrified mist transformed into black flames. This was John Pluto
Smith's ultimate incarnation, the [Flames of Annihilation].
The black flames surrounded the silver-white serpent, consuming it in one
fell swoop.
"Oooaaaaaaaaah! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
"Burn to the very end along with my body, Asherah!"
As the black flames of disaster scorched and consumed the exotic snake,
the sky over Long Beach was illuminated with a strange color. This scene
was testament to the demise of the [King of Flies] and the defeat of the
divine ancestor Asherah.
Following the orders of his friend, Jack swiftly left the ship.
Whenever John Pluto Smith started fighting, it was best to keep one's
distance.
Various [Sacrifices] were needed in order for him to use magic. If one
weren't careful, one could easily end up as tragic as those offerings.
Take the [Archmage] for example, it required a man-made massive
structure as [Sacrifice].
Whenever John Pluto Smith took on that form, he had no choice but to
destroy a piece of the Los Angeles city that he protected.
There were also other [Sacrifices] that inconvenienced people's lives, even
ones that were as bloody as live sacrifices. The people of Los Angeles
endured these sacrifices for the sake of supporting the black hero's fight.
Like taxes paid to maintain a [King]'s protection, as subjects of his virtues
and abilities, the citizens had to fulfill their duty through taxation.
From the pier, Jack watched the progress of the battle from beginning to
end, but he was not the only audience.
At some point in time, almost a hundred people had gathered.
The nearby residents, people who came here by car, they did not look like
they were just here for a show. Some were piously watching the fight while
others were praying with their hands together, their eyes tightly closed.
Most likely, they came to witness the return of Los Angeles' protector.
Finally reaching a conclusion, the people let out sighs of relief. At this time,
a voice was heard.
"Jack, are you okay?"
Jack turned back to find a twenty-something-year-old Caucasian woman.
He had seen her somewhere before -- actually, this was a very familiar
face.
"Allison? Why are you here?"
"All because you made that kind of phone call! What the heck, it sounded
like a message of last words!"
Allison angrily embraced him.
Jack accepted her embrace without thought, hugging his most beloved
woman as tightly as he could.
"Another dangerous emergency again, I was so worried! I kept checking
the news on the radio and the internet... Once I heard from the radio
broadcast, that person -- our king had returned after a week, I rushed here
immediately."
There existed in this city a public radio station that broadcasted John Pluto
Smith's appearances live. On the internet, others did the same in the same
spirit.
Though the masked protector was deemed an unofficial hero, there were
people who thought of him as a tyrant disrupting peaceful city life, and
even took up self-defense measures.
Usually, they would be the ones providing evacuation information to
nearby residents.
However, their efforts this time achieved the result of publicizing the return
of the protector, causing people to gather in this place.
Furthermore, they had unwittingly helped two lovers reunite, as Jack and
Allison immersed themselves in deep embrace, affirming each other's
existences.
At this time, certain particular footsteps were heard once more, that
clacking sound of metal-tipped boots striking the ground.
Jack looked up and Allison followed suit.
Out from the depths of the darkness, John Pluto Smith was walking
towards him. The people welcomed him with eyes of trust and fearful
respect, but no one dared to speak to him.
The people automatically opened a path for him, gazing at this strange
man from afar.
He was the hero protecting the people, but that was not all.
The [King] feared and admired by the people, he was the dark monarch
lording over this city devoid of angels.
"Looks like you escaped safely. Very good. If you didn't even have that
level of ability, you wouldn't be qualified to be my assistant."
[8]"Smith, could you not saddle me with the role of Dr. Watson? I have no
intention of quitting my current job... But still, I don't look forward to even
stranger errands in the future."
Jack answered the king's greeting with agitation.
Perhaps due to vanquishing his mortal enemy, John Pluto was smiling with
joy.
[9]"If you prefer, the role of Dick Grayson is not bad either! As for your
current workplace, I will help you make arrangements. It can be resolved
straight away -- oh by the way, about that proposal I made on the ship, a
little celebration... That..."
In a very rare instant, the usually sharp-tongued John Pluto was suddenly
at a loss for words.
Observing the direction of his friend's visor, Jack found him staring at the
lady beside him.
"Smith, let me make introductions. She is Allison, someone most precious
to me."
Exchanging glances with his former fiancée, they smiled at each other.
"Oh, I've heard the name before, it was your original partner... You did
mention it once, but you broke up half a year ago, I did have the
impression you said that..."
Jack felt it must be his lucky night, for him to be able to witness such a rare
scene.
For some unknown reason, John Pluto Smith was becoming extremely
flustered. Seeing his friend lose composure for the first time, Jack couldn't
help but laugh wryly.
"Wow it's amazing you remembered that. You're right, but in the end we
got back together again... Yes, about that celebration, if possible... Could
we let Allison join us--"
"No, no! Please carefully reconsider your suggestion."
John Pluto replied frantically.
"Such behavior is inconsistent with my style after all. Someone like me
shouldn't have made such a pointless suggestion in a fit of overexcitement
before a battle. Please forget it."
"Oh, I don't really mind... But clearly you are the one who invited me first,
so that's truly willful of you."
"Yes, I am a willful and capricious person, so please forgive the rudeness
of going back upon my words. My apologies."
Finally back to normal, the masked friend apologized to Jack proudly.
Jack laughed wryly. This guy wouldn't be John Pluto Smith otherwise. He
was a man who kept his distance and maintained secrecy even towards
his closest friend.
"It is about time for me to depart. Goodbye, Jack!"
As the masked friend finished his words, the lights in the surroundings all
went out.
All lighting systems in the Long Beach area lost their function.
Street lights went out and so did the headlights of cars. All the way until
dawn, no light could be generated. Even if one took out a flashlight, it was
useless.
And then John Pluto Smith transformed.
Using the surrounding light as a [Sacrifice], he turned himself into the
[Jaguar]. In the past, this transformation once plunged the entire
Hollywood in a state of darkness.
Jack and the crowd could still make out a form in the pitch black darkness.
The hero in the shape of a [Jaguar] -- with a pair of eyes flashing brightly
like emeralds in the darkness.
Ooooooohhhh! The fearsome beast's roar tore through the dark night as
John Pluto Smith's incarnation disappeared like the rushing wind.
"So, goodbye, John Pluto Smith."
Watching his friend depart, Jack muttered to himself, but it was not a
permanent farewell.
When this chaotic city finds itself in a new crisis, the [King] with the black
mask will surely return. And then, when his friends truly have need of his
powers, he will definitely come back--
Part 5
It was afternoon on the day after John Pluto Smith had defeated divine
ancestor Asherah.
Joe West was visiting a house located in a quiet corner of Los Feliz. This
house was way too large for two people, just a master and a butler, but no
one complained. At least the butler, who knew his master's true identity,
did not complain.
"Hi Dennis, how's our queen feeling?"
"Most unfortunately, the worst of the worst, Professor West."
Inquiring the old butler who came to greet at the door, it was an
unfavorable answer.
And then he was taken to the living room. West silently thanked God that it
was not the bedroom. At least it wouldn't end up requiring him to drink
overnight on the bed until dawn... The worst case scenario.
"It's a beautiful day today, my queen. No, Annie. By the way, for you to be
drinking alone in depression, that is far too disrespectful to alcohol culture."
"Shut up, am I not allowed to drink now!"
The casual greeting resulted in a standard response of an alcoholic.
Annie Charlton sank herself deeply in the sofa couch.
The round table on the side was full of empty bottles and used glasses.
The reason why the empty bottles were not scattered all over the ground,
was only due to the diligent efforts of the flawless old butler.
"...May I ask the reason of your displeasure?"
"Oooh, to think Jack already had a woman~~ That bastard, he clearly said
he was single!"
Due to being drunk, Annie answered with moist eyes. The usual cool
beauty with her stiff facial expression and tone of voice had completely
vanished. Alcohol truly changes people sometimes.
"Even if he has a significant other, it doesn't matter, right?"
"No, what about me, I had my eyes on him a year ago already!"
Though their relationship was between a professor and his assistant, they
were already old friends.
This was why Joe West knew the true side of Annie Charlton.
Rational, calm and reserved, the 'capable woman' who was both
intellectual and took action with initiative. She possessed the airs of a
serious and rigid honors student.
But under certain conditions, her entire attitude and behavior became like
a completely different person's.
For example, when she drowned her sorrows in alcohol, or when she wore
certain clothing, an outsider's perspective would definitely diagnose her as
too repressed in her usual life.
Anyway, West decided to comfort her first.
"This sounds exceedingly commonplace, but with so many men in this
world, why don't you just find a new love?"
"Let me say, the men that catch my eye, all of them are rare breeds! Take
Jack, clearly so handsome and stylish, yet he does not pride himself on his
looks. Even though he is a hot-blooded male, he doesn't give off the
impression as overly passionate. Though a little rash sometimes, he has
good wits, isn't this a rare and excellent breed!"
Annie finally began to sob and cry loudly.
"Even so, I secretly worked hard to shrink the distance between us. Like
discreetly helping him in his work, playing appropriate jokes to lighten his
seriousness, and deepen his impression of me. I struggled to find reasons
to see him at least once a week! Finally, he recently started to confide in
me to discuss his private troubles, how did things turn out like this in the
end!"
"Annie, may I... You did all that under the identity of John Pluto Smith,
right?"
West tried to remind the heartbroken(?) drunk.
Annie Charlton, twenty-seven years old this year.
Defeating the Aztec demonic god Tezcatlipoca in her teens through a
convoluted series of events, she became the god-slaying warrior, with the
alias John Pluto Smith.
"Despite what you said, Annie is just a mere acquaintance to Jack, right?"
"I have no other choice~~ Dressing up every single night to carry out
heroic acts, it's already been ten years -- Occupied all this time, with
absolutely no time to get along with guys, I have completely no idea how to
approach a man."
West couldn't help but sigh. He had dragged his broken leg all this way
specifically to celebrate with her, but there was no mood for that now.
On that night, during the instant when Asherah self-destructed in the sea.
Annie had transformed herself into the [Flames of Annihilation], and
deliberately lost her physical form.
Due to the success of that move, she did not suffer fatal wounds, but the
heavy injuries caused her to fall into a coma, floating away along ocean
currents. Luckily she was saved by a patrolling speed boat. It took a week
for her to recover, after which she hurried back to Los Angeles...
This was a minor interlude in the life of the warrior who possessed
extraordinary vitality.
The old friend and butler watched from the side as Annie Charlton drank to
escape reality.
Afterwards, she said that the reason why she did not usurp a new authority
from the defeat of Asherah, was likely because the snake deity was
transformed from a divine ancestor, and not a true [Heretic God]... So it
was natural not to receive an authority.
Discovering the error in this conclusion, was something that happened
much later.