+You offered your powers in-return for MY wealth. It is not my fault you mistook my upbringing for weakness.+
-"Tch."-
-Notice. Demonic Possession System is capable of synthesizing a new statistics sheet for host if so desi-
The monotone voice of the Demonic System was quickly overwritten as Gregori threw his metallic goblet through the window, and down another four stories, watching it land straight into someone's car, bludgeoning them, as they crashed into the hillside.
+Goddammit.+ "RUNNER BOY!" He shouted, waiting for the gangster-dressed yet muscular man from earlier to return; and to which, he did.
"Yes, boss?"
"We've got another cleanup to do. Have someone fix this window as well." Gregori spoke calmly, as he grabbed another glass, this time made of silver rather than steel, and poured more of his overbearingly scented Wine and Vodka Mixed-Grape Cocktail.
"At your service, boss!" And so the man ran down three flights of stairs just for another job, as it did indeed pay lucratively...
In the room, alone once more, Gregori sighed.
+System, initialize Mastered Ethereal Sensory Lost Art and use Parallel Processing in-order to search for the boy. Use key method of Demonic Detection Level Five to find him, I'm gonna take a nap.+
-Acknowledged, beginning processes, note that-
The system was completely ignored by the tired yet frivolous man, as he took a nap due to the overbearing headache that always came from splitting one's hemisphere's in-half for multiple tasks.
...
David was tired.
VERY. TIRED.
When he first got the job by mere coincidence of working in the mob as a runner, he figured it'd be the usual. Break some legs, deliver some info, and grunt work.
Instead, he had been employed by the transvestite to work in a mortuary every Saturday, and now he's head of body cleanup AS WELL as a runner.
It was a pain in the ass, I tell you!
His hours were fluctuating all over the place with his average amount of sleep being just over three hours a day (1-6 hours per). It was an absolute nightmare!
What's worse? Every Thursday, such as today, he'd be tasked with sending cremated bodies to the Don's "special room", where five bodies would be placed to form a pentagram. No one knew why this was the command, but if Don Gregori Parlem asks... You WILL receive.
After that, he's tasked with cooking an absurd amount of food and serving it at the tables in the room, and goes back to whatever business he has that day.
Needless to say, this job is an absolute nightmare!
If it weren't for the 100,000 a month...
Okay maybe even then. According to the statistics, the average person in Gregori's Mafia earns a bare minimum of 40,000 a month!!!
Now THAT is job security my friend.
So long as you don't betray or piss-off the Don, it was and still is one of the most profitable ventures one can experience.
...
Gregori was busy meditating in his "special room". For the exact specifics, it's a Sacrifice table. Individuals of the Gluttonous Demon-Lord, Belzye, possess the ability to consume relatively anything alongside a slew of other extraneous Black Magical abilities. In this case, the ability to retain one's soul yet obtain experience via consuming and crushing the souls of dead, once-dead, or the living.
This is what Gregori had been doing for the past 30 years, and it was how he kept his skin looking youthful despite being a 50 year old man. It's not everyday a 50 year old looks 17, still.
As he munched contentedly on a fine Caesar's Salad alongside a slew of other cooked foods by the Runner, David, the system was busy stuffing him with the souls of three, now four, individuals. With this, his soul was constantly maintained at an 80% rate, yet his experience with Belzye was still growing, as of 94% most recently.
"I yet do not understand who the hell this boy is. System, is there any chance the boy is... Demonically Possessed?"
-Answer: System has determined that the odds of target being a Demonically Possessed individual is extensively high, with a total probability rate of 79%.-
This caused Gregori to pause, his mouth continuing to chew and swallow a leaf of romane lettuce.
"Which demon would it be?" He finally spoke after around five minutes of pontificating and eating.
-Answer: No discernable calculations can be made. Best probability would be one of the "Desire" based Demons, such as: Belzye, Maeon, Levi, or Asmodia.-
To this, Gregori spent another few minutes thinking to himself, before he finished his dinner and cleaned up.
"Then let's go find the bastard... The old fashioned way." He spoke to himself, as he grabbed his favorite rifle... A well-kept AK-308 using .308 Winchester.
The clacking could be heard as he loaded it and set the safety, upon which time, it was slung over his shoulder, as he left the cold corpses and remnants of a fine feast in the safe room.
...
"Are we there yet?" Georgia asked. She felt like she'd seen at least fifteen street signs by now!
"No, and it's only been twenty minutes, relax." George replied, happy he had a chance to use his driver's license for once.
Although he'd had it for two years, he didn't use it often as his parents wanted to do things their way constantly. As well, his car "needed repairs" according to his dad. Which was only half-true... Robert liked to sit in the car and listen to music as he "fixed it up" outside every week.
"Ughhhhhhh. Can we listen to some better music or something then?" Georgia asked, extremely bored and exhausted by trying to wrap her head around the events following their departure.
George had told her about the fact that by the end of today, she would likely not exist, or return home. This was a hell of a wake-up call for god's sake! Regardless, she took it in stride and was just trying to enjoy herself, so she ended up grabbing a bunch of candy from the house before they left, and had managed to consume it all before they even arrived at their destination. She was jacked up to high-heaven with sugar, and she was keen on making George remember it.
If it wasn't for his existing guilt for accidentally bringing her into existence in the first place, he had much more plentiful things on his mind that happened to be distracting him from driving. Thank god for the new Driver's Safety courses, or he'd have probably swerved into a tree by now thanks to-
-"And that's how Asmodia and I got divorced. I absolutely hate talking about it, you know. You should thank me!"-
This had gone on immediately after they left, as Levi finished his naptime and was ready to annoy the ever-living shit out of George.
It was working.
However, they finally arrived at Saint Street, and George was met with a familiar sight... A prairie just off the road, with a single streetlight gleaming off the metal of the roadsign. "5541 West Saint Street"
The place where he returned from purgatory.