"You screwed us over, Teen Wolf." Dean grabbed Irwin by his shirt's collar and slammed him into the wall. "We can barely handle one god and now there's seven of them and others more are coming!"
"Calm down, Winchester." Irwin grunted softly, thankful that he had told Dean of the situation in his room. "We're in a building full of monsters. Do not shout and let the enemy know we're onto them."
While Dean may be easy to anger and quick to resort to violence, he was also experienced enough to know when to back down. His instincts would be telling him to trust Irwin, creating hypothetical upon hypothetical to prevent a death that didn't end with a heart attack during a threesome.
Irwin felt Dean's dilated eyes return to normal and so did his heartbeat before letting the former go with a huff.
Although he was not physically aggressive anymore, the hunter still had grievances and did it in the form of his M1911 being aimed at Irwin. "Tell me one reason why I shouldn't kill you, huh? You led us to a trap–"
"This isn't a trap. More likely the work of the Natural Order or, as you mortals like to call it… fate." Irwin claimed, although even he didn't believe what he was spouting. "We need to stick together and live through the night. If you leave now or kill me, then they'll know something has happened. It will make them nervous and, you of all people know, never to make these pagan gods nervous."
Dean thought about his words for a moment before palming his face with an irritated grunt. "Fine."
"Good. As you know, I'm a witch and, like your brother, I have certain abilities." He said before twisting his wrist to let the weapons out–sans grenades. "Pick any, then we'll meet Bobby and Ellen on the second floor."
Dean didn't flinch at the sight of the magik, merely regarding the tools of war with a glare. "How the fuck are we going to kill these pagans? They each need–"
"Any Angel Blade is capable of piercing through immortality. There is no need for specific weapons." Irwin interjected. "Are you comfortable with a knife or do you want a sword or any kin–"
"Knife's good enough." Dean interjected back as he grabbed the Angel Blade and slipped it into his jacket sleeve.
Dean didn't say anything further, merely allowing Irwin to lead him out of the room and towards the elevator. His solemn presence behind him irked Irwin for a moment, but he knew that Dean was just worried for the safety of Bobby and Ellen.
In his eyes, they were capable of hunting, but Bobby had gotten old and was primarily used to doing research while Ellen was never really a hunter in the first place. It was a narrow-minded characterization of two excellent hunters that came from a place of love, one that would soon be broken down by the next year and two.
Not one guard, fourth-floor staff, nor campaign volunteers were seen on the way until they pressed the elevator button. As if awaiting their arrival, the door opened in the middle and revealed its sole passenger.
Ninmug, the stern and curt nanny of Joseff Brown, stood solemnly in the center of the elevator with an equally solemn expression on her face. Unlike the rest of the staff, she wore a uniform of sorts only with traces of wear and tear all over it. Her pleated skirt shone with a silver gleam, as did her buttoned shirt.
"Good evening." She said, stepping through the crack in the doorframe and starred both of them in silence.
"Uh, just going for a smoke." Irwin said as he excused himself past her; yet the woman merely stood like a monolith in front of the elevator as it closed on its own. "Is there a problem?"
"No. We just wish for our guests to remain in their room during the night as it is a security problem." She explained diplomatically, quite a contrast to her snake-like longing stare at Irwin.
"Get out of the way." Dean bodied Ninmug as he moved forward and pressed the button with an irritated face, yet Irwin captured the exact moment Dean's shoulder slammed against Ninmug's and the way hurt and surprise came across Dean's eyes.
Ninmug turned her head towards Dean, skin straining at the angle. Dean, however, kept looking at the elevator with his foot tapping on the floor.
"That is not nice." She said.
"Forgive him. He got hit in the head when he was a kid." Irwin excused the man as he went past Ninmug and entered the elevator with Dean. "Look, I just gave ten million dollars to the congressman. I, of all people, would not be a security problem."
Ninmug craned her head to normal yet still stood still. With her back to the two, Irwin blinked his eyes and checked her category.
[Ninmug - Class ? ????]
"Flagello!" A thorned whip of blue flames tore through the air and reached Ninmug in a split second, wrapping around her neck with extreme prejudice. "Get over here!"
Like a hand underneath a bed frame, Irwin pulled her towards him, or at least he tried. When his left arm flexed and he willed his magik to respond to his thoughts, he found Ninmug standing still as a monolith.
"Fuck!" He spat in surprise.
"What the fuck–"
"Angel Blade. Now!" Dean rushed forwards as Irwin felt the flaming whip taut and quiver unexpectedly. He leaned his body back but found himself being dragged out of the elevator as Ninmug finally began to move forward, one step at a time.
Each of her steps cracked the floor into a pattern of concrete webs and it took Irwin gripping the frame of the elevator door for Dean to catch up and try to stab the woman in the back.
Try being the operative word for as soon as Dean came within melee range, Ninmug moved with swift hands and blocked the attacking arm.
"Son of a–" His catchphrase was interrupted by a chop to his throat, taking him out of the battle for a few moments.
That short bit of movement, however, had allowed Irwin to move forward and enter Ninmug's melee range. With the Flaming Whip still around her neck, Irwin launched a fist at Ninmug's nose.
The fist struck true, breaking Ninmug's nose and smashing her bone inwards, yet that didn't deter the woman nor make her stumble back from the force. Her feet were still stuck an inch down the broken floor, which alarmed Irwin so much that he immediately backed away before she could get a hit in.
He slid a few feet away, settling down just as the Flaming Whip unwrapped itself off Ninmug and slithered around his left arm.
"You're unbelievably strong." He remarked as a slight pain pulsated in his punching arm. "I assume you're part of the Servant Sisters?"
Ninmug turned around and locked eyes with Irwin, tilting her head at his question. "Servant Sisters?"
"Wha-? Huwawa. He called you Servant Sisters." Irwin pouted quizzically at her confusion.
Ninmug's eyes narrowed as an oppressive aura began to permeate the entire hall, but before it could completely overwhelm Dean, Irwin released his magical power to counter the effect.
"I see. A witch, then. It is true that the sow now knows more about the real world." Ninmug's eyes twitched before she suddenly pushed forward at an unprecedented speed.
He abruptly ducked to the left as Ninmug swept his previous position with unerring velocity, nearly taking off Irwin's head. For a moment, Irwin was trapped between the wall to his back and a physically powerful figure in front of him. That moment receded as he activated Overmode, allowing his body to react as fast as his instinct and Danger Sense told him to be.
He knew he only had a few seconds, if not less than a half a minute, before his magical energy emptied out. He would have normally unleashed Brimstone Blow by now, but he knew that it would be detrimental to his situation, if not downright destructive to everyone in the building.
Sure, they weren't really silent about this fight, but being alarmed about the sounds of fighting was vastly different than an explosion that would take out a quarter of the fourth floor.
He closed his eyes and felt his magical energy pouring into the flaming thorned whip and he rushed forward, keeping the Flaming Whip around his arm with a sliver of its flames protruding a foot away. Thankfully, the Flaming Whip was almost over nine meters long.
Frankly, it was a bit confusing that his Great Hunter System was using the metric system when he, himself, was using imperial, but now was not the time to complain about the semantics of a measuring system.
He pushed forward and circled Ninmug with kicks and whips of his Flaming Whip, but much to his annoyance and intrigue, his weapons hardly affected the woman. They could damage her. That was true enough as evident by the scorch marks and bruises all over her body, yet that was superficial compared to the utter beating he took every time she came close enough to throw him off his feet.
Joaquin's teaching and Enhanced Physique helped him a lot during their brief bouts, but that could not compare to her speed, strength, and technique. His punches, crosses, and feints were easily seen through by the women, which she did with practiced ease.
As if the woman could read his every thought, countering the move before he could even make it.
Ninmug caught the Flaming Whip with her left hand and pulled Irwin over like he tried to do to her. He was launched off his feet and tumbled into the ground, the Flaming Whip fizzling out as his concentration broke from the horrifying experience of the Golden Rule.
"God. You're strong." He nearly went back down when his hands slipped on a puddle of sweat, catching himself at the last moment. "You know, I hate it when monsters do the things I do. It makes me not like them."
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk a lot?" Nin mug genuinely asked.
"Not so much." He shook his head, a grin spreading through his face. "This is a special occasion. I'm providing a distraction, you see."
She tilted her head, " What? A distracti–"
She stopped halfway through her sentence as a silvery blade emerged from her throat, immediately bathing her whole body in blood as it gushed out like a broken faucet.
Her eyes widened in fear as her body slid off the blade and fell face-first into the ground, convulsing in apparent death throes.
Dean panted furiously as his beaten face morphs into a grin. "You owe me on, bitch."