Discussions concerning Jasper occurred in a sparsely used conference room. This room is only used in regards to Demonic Entities, and only in situations where they could be a threat to the well-being of hell or if they had the chance to be an irreplaceable front-line asset. Similar discussions occurred in the streets, in pubs, and in rooms with similar purposes, but these other rooms were far less dusty due to the frequent traffic of citizens and hunter scouting agencies. The potential of a newborn like Jasper can throw industries looking for their time in the limelight into a frenzy.
"Silence!" a booming voice commanded in the dusty room.
Breaking their glares at the other men in front of them, these people all turned their eyes towards the voice. Respect is required in such a room, which is why such debates are allowed, as everyone's opinion and input could change the product of their meeting. This is also exactly why every dropped their lively debates in order to listen to the words of one member, despite them being new.
"I, Heso'k, shall take it onto myself to watch over this newborn," Heso'k said with a proud voice, gazing at the now silent members with shining eyes.
Heso'k is a new member, and he hopes to make a good impression on the others. Recently sworn in, he is eager to prove his worth in the proceedings, especially since these events do not happen often.
"We must remind ourselves that talent shouldn't be seen as a threat on sight, these talents can improve the lives of those in hell," Heso'k said sagely, before he continued to say, "However, we should always be ready to respond in a moments notice in the event they do become a threat."
"For now, we must proceed normally, meaning we should prepare the title reward."
The men gazed with growing affection towards the young new member of the group, nodding their heads in respect, and saying one name due to tradition, "Heso'k!"
After paying their respects to the input of the newest member, the members sitting in the dusty room soon engaged in a heated debate regarding the nature of the reward, a discussion that lasted hours in reality, however the time was slowed greatly in the scenario as the people in the dusty room finally came to a decision.
"Alright, 'Wifebeater,' it is time to wake up!"
One thought flashed through each member's mind, 'Hehe, hopefully this will be funny.'
*
"Wha-" the traces of a question lingered on my lips as the view of the previously bloody scene blurred out of existence.
My vision blurred as I felt a searing pain stretch out across my limbs, and by the time I was able to refocus my eyes, I was looking up towards a group of bearded men. One man in particular was standing directly in front of me, a faint sheen of sweat was wiped from his face hurriedly as he successfully gained a calm stature. Behind this man laid a round stone table, riddled with deep fist sized holes and varying forms of what is most likely alcohol, assuming the substance in the cups lines up with the smell of the room. The other men in the room sat around this table, calmly looking at me from what now felt like afar in the smaller body of a newborn.
'Scenario Drift,' I said those words in my mind, fully aware of why my limbs were in pain.
Scenario Drift is a way to seamlessly transition a person from scenario and into reality, "transforming" the scenario body slowly into their real body to reduce the shock of the sudden height difference, along with moving the location of their real body to a specified location. In reality, it is the alteration and termination of the illusion that was originally initiated for the purpose of the scenario. The pain I was experiencing was the false pain created to develop an even more seamless transition.
The only people capable of such things are- "We are the Hellgoon Kangaroo's."
"Hellgoon Kangaroo's...?" I asked them with real confusion evident on my tubby face.
Internally, I was wondering why they were calling themselves such an odd name now.
"Haha, odd name, yes?" one of the bearded men in the back of the room rubbed their beard while looking at me with a twinkle in his eye.
'AH! I remember... this is the special method of secrecy used by this group, The Giant's Judgement.'
The Giant's Judgement hardly ever used their real name, but this is not by choice. All members are sworn using a secret method which causes them to spout such nonsense, but even I don't know the inner-workings of such a guarded method. The purpose this group is to monitor possible threats to Hell, specifically newborns, and determine whether they are beneficial or dangerous to hell. While the scenarios themselves aren't technically mean't to check for a threat, these people use it for just that. They analyze, record, and review your scenario over and over if need be, and they are one of many groups handling such matters under the direct hand of the current ruler of Hell.
"Haha! We are sure you are quite confused for the moment, but please hold your questions. As for who we are, it does not really matter for now. Perhaps in the future, Wifebeater," one of the men in the back spoke up again, playfully spitting out the last word in a slightly mocked manner.
With a wave of their hands, they threw me into the air, and into the middle of the room, making it so I would hover in the middle of all of the seated men.
"What are you doing?!" I questioned them in a loud high-pitched voice, voice cracks screeching out due to the fact that I have hardly used my voice in my real body.
The only response I got from the old men were a couple shaking heads, muffled laughs, and toothy grins.
'Oh, and now I remember why I probably wanted to forget these fuckers.'
The Giant's Judgment are one of the oldest, and transparently childish divisions under the ruler of Hell, and their childishness extends to even the elders, all of which are fans of 'funny' tests.
"Hopefully you can entertain us, for your sake."