Becky returned with his drink, set the Coke in front of Shane, and slid into the seat across from him.
"So. What did you want to ask?"
"I'm looking for a place," Shane said. "Canyons nearby, untouched forest all around. People say there are bears in the woods. And there are abandoned gold and silver mines."
He paused, replaying the Winchesters' next stop in his head.
"Should be in one of the nearby states."
Becky actually took a moment to think it through.
"I know a place that matches," she said slowly. "Blackwater Ridge, in the Lost Creek area of Colorado. Sounds almost exactly like what you described."
"Any other place that fits?"
"I don't think so," she said, shaking her head. "Canyons, forest, bears, abandoned mines. That's Blackwater Ridge."
Then she tilted her head, curiosity creeping in.
"Is this some kind of graduation trip? You look young. Stanford freshman? If you are, you should be calling me 'upperclassman.'"
Shane laughed.
"Not happening. I'm not a Stanford student. I'm just… starting my new life. Seeing a world that feels familiar and unfamiliar at the same time."
The smile he gave her was warm, calm, and annoyingly hopeful, like he actually believed tomorrow could be better.
For a split second, Becky's heart did the stupid thing.
The drop-everything, run-away-with-him kind of stupid thing.
She cleared her throat and leaned into something safer.
"My name's Becky."
"Nice to meet you, Becky." Shane's grin turned easy and bright. "You know any good car dealerships around here?"
That was an easy one.
She rattled off a few options, who had decent prices, who tried to upsell, and what to watch out for if he didn't want to get fleeced. Shane listened, nodding, committing it all to memory.
"Also," he said, "pick a number. One through ten."
Becky blinked.
"A number?"
He looked at her like this was the most important decision she'd make all week.
After a beat she shrugged.
"Seven. Most people treat seven like a lucky number."
"Perfect."
Shane pulled out seven crisp hundred-dollar bills and laid them on the table in front of her. Then he grabbed his Coke, stood up, and smiled.
"You earned your tip. And this time, don't be so generous. You're not that generous. And you're broke, remember?"
Becky stared at the money like it was going to bite her.
Seven.
Seven hundred.
That was what the number meant?
She'd just chosen her own tip amount without realizing it.
Was seven actually lucky?
Was this how rich people tipped?
"You're… you're sure?" she managed.
"Completely sure."
"Seven hundred dollars," Becky said, still stunned. "For a Coke and a few questions?"
It was absurd.
It was ridiculous.
It was the kind of thing she'd only ever heard about online.
Around the restaurant, heads turned.
People whispered.
Someone actually muttered, "Oh my God."
"Why?" Becky asked, her voice a little dazed.
Eight hundred total, counting the earlier hundred. That was rent money. That was survival money. And he'd spent it on soda.
Shane gave her a playful look as he headed for the door.
"Maybe rich-people happiness just isn't something you can picture."
Outside, the air felt cleaner.
Shane walked with the faint, ridiculous satisfaction of a man who'd discovered his favorite way to spend money.
It wasn't about showing off.
It wasn't about humiliating anyone.
It was simple.
Spend a little.
Make someone's day.
Let that good mood stick to you for hours afterward.
And if he was being honest, it came with a bonus: gratitude was a lot more fun to collect than resentment.
He was still spending money to feed his own needs.
He just preferred doing it in a way that felt better.
Behind him, Becky remained seated, staring at the bills.
Part of her wanted to chase after him.
Another part knew it would be pointless.
This would be the kind of moment she remembered for the rest of her life.
For him?
It was probably just Tuesday.
He hadn't even told her his name.
Ding!
"C-Rank Mission: Kill the shapeshifter tailing you."
"Mission reward: Transformation Jutsu."
"Accept mission?"
The mission popped the second Shane stepped out.
He accepted without changing expression, then turned and walked toward a quiet side alley nearby.
Kill a shapeshifter.
Get a transformation ability.
Honestly, the symmetry was almost cute.
Shapeshifters showed up in plenty of supernatural shows. In the Winchesters' world, a shifter could copy someone perfectly. Face, fingerprints, even their little habits. A living impersonation.
And the creepiest part?
A lot of them left evidence. Skin. Like they were shedding a costume.
On video or through certain cameras, you could catch something wrong in the eyes. A flare. A shine. A tell.
They also had instincts that bordered on cheating. Smelling people. Hearing heartbeats. Tracking you without ever seeing you.
Most injuries healed fast.
But silver was a different story.
So were certain weapons that existed on the far edge of the food chain.
Shane wasn't sure which flavor of shifter had followed him.
That made it even better.
He'd come to this world for one reason above all others.
The hidden crossovers.
The creatures.
The powers.
He wanted to pull the curtain back and see what was really out there.
And, if he was lucky, get in a real fight.
A proper fight.
The kind that let his jutsu light this world up.
The system even had a "ninja training" feature.
He still didn't know how to activate it, but he was already feeling the ambition bloom.
Teach jutsu.
Build a school.
Spread chakra.
Start a whole new lineage of fighters.
At this rate, he might as well book the title now.
Sage of Six Paths, but make it American TV.
And hey, if the Naruto legends got to call the Otsutsuki "the people from the heavens," then maybe Shane should think bigger too.
Otsutsuki Momoshiki.
Otsutsuki Kinshiki.
Otsutsuki Urashiki.
Otsutsuki Isshiki.
So why not…
Otsutsuki Shane?
It sounded stupid.
It also sounded perfect.