The Old Crude's small backroom used to house rughanes or the odd stray drifter. Now? It held a mean, lean devil-hunter named Kai—white-haired, rough around the edges—and a skinny teen curled up in one of the corner booths, hair a soft lilac shade.
"Aight, kid. I ain't gonna hurt ya. Hell, I'm here to keep you safe. Some bastard paid me for the job. You got any clue who?"
"N-no, sir... I just didn't wanna be taken back."
"Hmph. Whatever. You stick with me, you pull your weight. Chores, odds and ends, 'til your so-called guardian angel shows up and explains some shit."
Kai slipped a hand into the lazy folds of his worn-black jacket, pulled out a battered packet, and bit down on a fresh cig. Then, without hurry, he drew Marry—a compact, well-loved ironpiece—and pointed her at the cig now resting in his mouth.
Pwwwwh—
The shot lit clean.
"Oi! Don't shoot your shit in my damn tavern!"
****
Two figures walked through the bustling square, weaving past the noise and crowd toward a narrow back alley. Their destination: a small tavern-turned-hunters' den known as Sinfully Yours—a mercenary arms-for-hire joint run by Kai and Lux, the two having built it from the ground up in their younger, meaner years.
"Yo, Lux. You get the milk I asked for?"
"Fuck you, you bastard," a sharp voice cut through the stale air of Sinfully Yours. The place reeked of alcohol, gunpowder, and cigarettes—a scent born to give headaches and bad memories.
"What kind of dickhead puts a bullet between someone's eyes and then asks if they got the groceries? Fuck no, I ain't got the milk. Took me all goddamn day to recover from Marry's shot, you shithead. Those AER anti-stained rounds are a pain in the ass."
Ignoring Lux's rant, the two figures—Kai and the lilac-haired, wild-looking kid—headed toward the bar tucked along the left wall of the ground floor.
"Oi, who's the kid?" Lux asked, that sly, knowing grin crawling across his face.
"Oh, this is—uh. Shit, I didn't ask your name, did I, wee lad?"
"Erm… m-my name's Julu's, sir."
Lux froze mid-wipe, glass in one hand, filthy rag in the other. He blinked at Julu's like the kid had just confessed to being a talking frog in disguise.
"Julu's?!" he repeated, voice rising like a kettle about to scream. "What are you, a bard? A cursed prince? You got a secret lute hidden in those rat-bitten clothes? Saints above and shit below—Kai, you brought me a baby-faced fairytale character!"
He slammed the glass down and leaned forward, wild eyes burning like overcooked AER cores. "Tell me straight, Jules—can I call you Jules?—you got any weird-ass powers? Shimmer when you're mad? Speak snake? Maybe you cry flower petals when you're sad?"
"I-I think I'm normal," Julu's mumbled, clutching his sleeves like they were armor.
Lux let out the most dramatic groan ever squeezed out of a human throat. "Ugh. Normal?! Kai, I specifically requested no boring strays. I have a rep to maintain. You bring a kid into Sinfully Yours and he better piss fire or scream Latin in his sleep!"
Kai flicked ash from his cig without looking over. "He survived the pickup. That's more than most."
"Oh, wow, great job, kid," Lux said with exaggerated applause. "You didn't die. That's the bare minimum in this establishment, sunshine!"
He grabbed a grimy cup and poured something vaguely brown and suspicious-smelling into it, shoving it toward Julu's. "Drink this. Builds character. Or ulcers. Either way, you'll fit in faster."
Julu's glanced at Kai. "Is it… safe?"
Kai shrugged. "dunno ,Probably."
Julu's sniffed it. Immediately regretted it.
Julu's taking a quick swing and jugging it down nearly vomited it out straigth away barely holding it in.
"Wow, kid, you really got it in you, huh? That shit's the Horrid A—I mean really horrid." Lux cackled, patting Julu's on the back a little too hard. "Only reason we even have that filth is 'cause it's cheap, and nobody else dumb enough to come this deep gives a damn about taste."
He jerked a thumb at Kai. "Talk to mister shooty-pants over there, he drinks it like water. Brain damage's gotta come from somewhere."
Kai didn't bother to respond. He just adjusted his jacket and lit another cigarette with a lazy flick of Marry's muzzle. The lighter had broken weeks ago. The gun didn't miss.
Lux was still laughing when his gaze dropped to Julu's hand. He paused.
"Ai—Julu's. What's that on your hand?"
"I… I don't know, Mr. Lux," the boy stammered, his fingers curling over the blackened, faintly glowing mark. "I got it when I was running… The traders—they were gonna sell me, and one of them, he had this weird stamp on his chest, and when I—I touched it…"
His voice cracked, and the kid practically folded in on himself. "It just… lit up. And burned into me."
Lux blinked once. Then again. Then slapped the counter.
"Well, shit in a silver hat. You really did it." He let out a low whistle and leaned over to inspect the mark, his face unreadable for once. "Don't cry, kid. No one's gonna chain you up again. Look—hell, I've got one too. Kai's got one. We're like a goddamn sticker collection."
Kai grunted. "It's not a sticker, Lux."
"Semantics!" Lux waved him off. "It's a scripture, alright? Big scary thing, ancient remnants, yadda yadda. Real ones are rare, personal, cost a fortune and your sanity. What you got is probably a Stamp. Mass-produced version. Soldiers use 'em. Cheaper. Cruder. But hey—still makes you interesting."
Julu's stared. "You… you know what kind it is?"
A long pause.
"…Aight, guess not," Lux admitted, scratching the back of his head. "Could be anything from a roach charm to a walking death mark. We'll figure it out later."
He straightened and pointed toward the narrow stairwell in the back. "For now, why don't you go claim a bed upstairs? Ain't like we're running a five-star inn. Sheets are scratchy and smell like gun oil, but it beats the street."
Julu's nodded quietly, still clutching his hand.
Lux called after him, voice softening just a hair. "And hey, kid—if that thing starts talking to you? Don't listen. Unless it tells you where the hell kai's milk went."
The bar was empty now—well, except for two old partners: a devil and a hunter.
The lights above buzzed low, bathing Sinfully Yours in that kind of dull yellow that made everything look jaundiced and wrong. A bottle sat half-drunk on the counter, and the ashtray overflowed like a miniature graveyard of cigarettes.
"So," Lux drawled, elbows planted on the counter, "why'd you pick up the job? Ain't like you to play babysitter. Kid like that's just a waste of bullets and bad dreams."
Kai didn't answer. He just shoved the glass forward.
"Lux. Shut the fuck up and pour me another. Ain't none of your business. Aight?"
The way his fingers twitched toward his hip was all the warning Lux needed.
Marry was already half-unholstered, her barrel peeking out like an accusation.
"Whoa there, buddy, old pal," Lux muttered, hands up, lips twitching into a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Why don't you holster that girl? Hurts even when she don't kill, yeah?"
Kai grunted and slid Marry back into the worn holster at his belt, the metal clicking softly against the scabbard beside it.
A beat passed.
"So… was it Rael?" Lux asked, voice softer now, words slicing careful.
The bar went still.
Marry spun out of the holster in a blink, the barrel snapping to Lux's forehead like it was magnetized. No warning this time.
Bzzzzzt.
A crackle. A pulse.
The air split with the hiss of an AER-charged round.
So did Lux's skull cavity.
He dropped like a puppet with its strings cut, eyes wide, brain steaming on the counter. The bottle tipped with him, leaking amber.
But then... Lux's lips twitched.
A sick, knowing grin spread over his face as the life drained out of him. His laughter, weak at first, started to creep from the gaping hole in his skull.
"Hehehe…" His laugh came out low, like a whisper carried by the corpse's own lips, crawling under the room's thick silence.
It was eerie, unsettling—like the dead man's soul was still trying to get the last word in.
Kai stood over him, the smoke from Marry still rising. His face, normally cold, flickered with something darker for a second before he wiped it away.
"Still got that shit-eating grin on your face, huh?"
He took another swig from his glass, uncaring about the mess Lux had left behind.
"Don't forget the bloody milk tomorrow"