Epilog
In the meeting hall of the disciples, under the Washington National Cathedral, Robor and Emend had just finished reconstructing the data that Emend had captured from the Dark Congress of demonic entities - before the entire server had come crashing down around him.
It turned out that very little of it had survived, save a small transcript of their transmissions to each other, in regard to the sudden appearance of the disciples among them.
"Shit! It's someone's Disciples!"
"How did they get in here?"
"Kajet is Farked now haha!
"What's the point in bidding then?"
"Meh, I'd say he might last twenty four hours."
"You actually think he'll make it to the next broadcast?!?"
"Care to make a wager then?"
"Certainly! I got three souls that says he does."
"Three huh? I'll ante in. I'll give him six hours!"
"Mark me down for four hours."
"I'll take lucky number thirteen!"
"I only got two souls. Anyone willing to spot me?
"But of course old friend, hahahaha!"
"I will regret this (I'm sure), but put me in for twelve hours."
"I got eight."
---
The drug dealer Eric Boyles, moved off his corner and down the alley to take a piss. He did not notice the car with its headlights off slowly pulling up on the main road.
"This man is the willing servant of Addiction," the Saint (Killer) explained to Miguel. "Peddling poisons to the local kids. Normally, we would not concern ourselves with his lot too much, but this one knowingly mixes fentanyl in the heroin, making it deadly. The irony is that when heroin kills, the users think it's because of its purity. Which make it even more desirable. They do not know this man is literally killing them just to make more profit."
As far as the Saint (Killer) knew, this guy was just a low level drug pusher down on his luck and that was all. The rest he had made up, because it sounded plausible, and to give Miguel reason for what was to come next.
No one would miss the poor shmuck.
The car window rolled down, the sound of the motor drawing Eric's attention. Zipping up his pants, he began heading to the car, thinking it was nothing more than his next sale.
An excitement thrilled through the Saint (Killer) - knowing that he was intentionally using God-given power to murder a man. It was such a juicy contradiction. So bad. So very very bad - and he loved every second of it.
Burning mana, he cast Life Force Assault - enhancing it with his newfound control, to invoke aggravated damage.
Eric Boyles doubled over suddenly, screaming in pain. Confused, he drew a 357 magnum from his waistband, but dropped it to the ground shortly thereafter.
One more wave of magic, and Eric's body went into complete sepsis, killing him from the anaphylactic shock. His own blood turning into a poisonous slag within his veins.
The Saint (Killer) shivered from the climax of his evil deed, quickly casting death mask to make it all look like a heroin and fentanyl overdose.
No one would question the man's death.
Very few would actually care.
