— — — — — —
California, Los Angeles — Sorcerous Sacrilege Investigation Branch
Inside the SSL office, Jack Milburn came face to face with his boss—a white man with a belly like a barrel.
Ben Adelman.
A former SSL field agent, and a good one at that. Rumor had it he once fought six sorcerers in a small alley, killed them all, but ended up cursed—forcing him to consume absurd amounts of sugar just to stay alive.
The result? A lean, battle-hardened fighter turned into the pudgy figure sitting in front of Jack.
Jack had his doubts about the story and figured it was just an excuse for Ben being a glutton.
"Jack, I need you to be mentally prepared," Ben said gravely. "This assignment isn't something just anyone can handle."
"It wouldn't be worse than the King of Flies?" Jack shot back with a sarcastic snort.
The King of Flies was a terrorist who had led a cult of sorcerers in the country for years.
Jack had crossed paths with her not too long ago—well, with a little girl who looked like an adorable angel but was crueler than any devil he'd ever met.
If Pluto, the masked superhero of Los Angeles, hadn't intervened, Jack would have been long dead.
Still, that incident earned him a much-needed two-week break.
Not that it mattered—he spent day one breaking up with his girlfriend after a screaming match.
And yet, Ben had chosen today, of all days, to pull him back to work.
But Ben's serious expression told Jack this wasn't just busywork.
"Jack, your instincts are sharp," Ben said grimly. "This person is even more dangerous than the King of Flies."
Jack fell silent, regretting his earlier sarcasm.
Couldn't he, just once, live a normal life?
Ben sighed. "The target is someone on Pluto's level—maybe even beyond."
Pluto.
The masked superhero of Los Angeles, a mystic whose real face had never been seen.
He possessed magic beyond any sorcerer's imagination—could transform his body into something inhuman, run through the darkness like a beast, wield forbidden curses, become a giant of unstoppable strength, fire off magic bullets, and somehow never lose.
The superhero called himself John Smith, a name as generic as "John Doe," practically screaming "fake."
Still, the people he'd saved didn't care. They called him Pluto, and eventually, he accepted the title.
Thus, the strongest sorcerer-hunter alive became known as Lord Pluto—John P. Smith.
Jack had been lucky enough to meet Pluto once. Even fought alongside him.
He knew better than most what a nightmare it would be if someone like that turned evil.
And now, there was someone out there just as dangerous—maybe even worse.
"What the hell is going on?" Jack asked, scowling.
Ben let out a long, heavy breath.
"Yesterday, we received a formal visit request from this individual. The State Department deliberated for two hours… then approved it."
"Why not just say no?" Jack demanded. "Deny them entry, keep them outside the country where they can't do any damage!"
Ben opened his mouth, then gave a bitter laugh.
"If we did that, next week's headlines would be, 'The United States is no longer united — now just 30 states. Or maybe 40. Depends the mood.'"
Jack's stomach dropped. Was it really that bad?
But Ben's serious face said it all.
Jack exhaled, reluctantly dropping his complaints about his ruined vacation.
"With all due respect, I'm not the guy for this job."
He knew his limits. The King of Flies had nearly killed him with just a glance. But still, for all her infamy, couldn't even lay a finger on Pluto.
And The New Danger ≥ Pluto > King of Flies
By that math, whoever was coming could probably kill him by twitching a finger. Jack wasn't a kid anymore—he didn't dream about being a hero.
"I know," Ben said. "That's why I went out of my way to get you the best partner possible."
He rummaged through his desk drawer and handed Jack a slip of paper.
"Go to Los Feliz, Samantha University. Find Professor Joe West."
"He's an expert on people like this—one of the few top-tier magicians on our side. With him helping, at least the mission won't be hopeless."
Ben hesitated, then added, "If you want, I can join you personally."
Jack glanced at Ben's massive frame, three times the size of his own, and sighed before taking the note.
"No thanks. You should stay here and… enjoy retirement."
He glanced at the paper, raising a brow. "Joe West, huh? African American and the Professor of Foreign Languages? If he's the guy I'm thinking of, this might actually be a pleasant partnership."
"You know him?" Ben asked, surprised. When Jack nodded, Ben smiled faintly. "Good. That should prevent unnecessary friction."
Jack straightened, gave a sharp salute.
"Jack Milburn, Level 9 Agent, officially accepting the mission!"
— — —
11 AM.
Jack arrived at Samantha University just before classes let out.
Driving across campus, he pulled up outside one of the research buildings.
Though it was class time, the area was completely deserted—clearly cleared out in advance.
"Looks like they're ready for me," Jack muttered, stepping inside.
He knocked on the office door and was promptly invited in.
Professor Joe West was a bald Black man whose face bore the marks of age, though his body still looked fit enough for active duty.
He looked like someone who could head to the battlefield right this second.
From what Jack had heard, West had worked alongside Pluto for over a decade—though Jack privately imagined that "fighting alongside" probably meant waving a little flag from the sidelines.
Even so, you had to be insanely strong just to be near Pluto's battlefield and live to tell about it.
"Jack, long time no see." West greeted him with a firm hug before stepping back.
"Wish it were under better circumstances."
"Is it really that dangerous?" Jack asked.
West shrugged. "Ten thousand times worse than you think."
Jack grimaced. "Then who is this person? Ben said they could 'destroy the country.' You're saying it's ten thousand times worse… don't tell me it's some kind of God or God-Slayer."
West stared at him for a moment, impressed.
"Jack, I have to say—your intuition is spot-on. You figured it out with no intel whatsoever!"
Jack's expression twisted. He'd just heard almost the exact same words a few hours ago. Was he jinxing himself?
"So it really is a god? Or a god-slayer?"
"Correct," West said solemnly. "A God-Slayer."
Jack felt like slapping himself across the face.
"A king who killed gods, stole their power, and rampaged across the earth. The God-Slayers." West's voice grew respectful as he spoke the title: "They are known as Campiones."
"Pluto is one of them, of course. But this one… this one is among the strongest of all. Even Pluto treats him with extreme caution."
Jack's lips twitched.
"Professor, if it's just the two of us, maybe we should skip the suicide mission."
West chuckled. "Of course it's not just us."
He smiled confidently.
"My student will be joining us—as well as my research assistant, Annie Charlton."
"Annie is the most beautiful, most noble woman I've ever met. With her on our side, there's no problem we can't solve!"
Jack, meanwhile, was quietly wondering if he should pre-pay for a coffin and a priest to bless it.
.
.
.