I took a moment to breathe and assess my situation. I was probably a wanted man in L.A now. I could never go back there unless I planned on taking on the Hand, the Santos, and the Police and put myself on the radar of two of the most dangerous ghost agencies operating in this world.
At least I was fucking loaded. I thought, tapping the bag of cash beside me. Some of Kroul's blood had gotten on the bag when I shot him. I probably needed to switch it out when I got the chance.
The same went for my bloody clothes. I spiked Angel Regeneration to heal the last of the damage from the last wounds and got another surprise.
You've pushed your skill and body to the limit. You've gained.
+1 Endurance
+1 Vitality
+1 Dexterity
+ 1 Angelic Energy
At least something good did come out of the night. It was great news that I could earn stat points by pushing my body to the limit.
Speaking of which, I checked my status.
Name: Axel Warren (Dante Sparda)
Species: Nephilim
Class: None
HP: 400/400
SP: 320/350
AE: 150/210
DE: 200/200
Strength: 20
Dexterity: 21
Vitality: 41
Endurance: 36
Angelic Energy: 21
Demonic Energy: 20
Red Orbs: 30
Abilities
Skills
Devil Arms
Shop
*****
I was less psyched about the paltry amount of Red orbs the entire endeavor netted me. 2 orbs per kill was a really stingy conversion. With Rebellion's first upgrade at 500 points, it would take me a while to grind up to that steep sum.
With the heat on me, I couldn't get started on that, not until I knew what the fuck I was doing combat-wise. Angel Regeneration carried me through both of my fights. I lost count of how many gunshot wounds I took at some point.
I needed training, tons of room to experiment, and of course, a new fucking identity before I could even think about gathering souls.
But first, I needed to get somewhere safe. I wrapped up my bloody shirt and shoved it and my money bag into my trunk. Next, I cleaned the car of the broken shards of glass, then zipped up my hoodie before I drove into town and stopped by a shady motel with a few girls posted in front.
A sultry brunette strutted up to me. She was in a tight mini-skirt, a skimpy tank top that left nothing to the imagination, and a leather jacket that must've done nothing to stave off the cold.
"Like what you see, Honey," she said, leaning into my window. "
"Hop in," I smiled, and she climbed into the passenger's seat. I was assaulted with her cheap perfume as I sped off towards my next destination.
"So…" she started. "Where to?"
"The convenience store," I said. I noted the confused look on her face.
"If you need a condom or something…"
"Oh, I won't be needing that, not tonight."
"Then why…"
"What's your name?"
"Ria," she said as she leaned into me, pressing her supple breast against my arm.
"Men must ask you to do a lot of weird things in your line of work," I said. "How would you like to do something ordinary for a change."
Ria looked at me, a bit wary. "What did you have in mind?"
I handed her a shopping list and enjoyed the look of confusion emerging on her face.
"You want me to shop for you?"
---
I sent Ria into a convenience store with a small wad of cash and a long list. I'd chosen this one because the parking lot had no security cameras. I asked for bleach, a bag of clothes in my size, basic toiletries, a few colors of hair dye, several baseball caps, and a baseball bat for good measure.
She came back with two heavy bags and a confused look on her face.
"At the very least, you could've helped, you know?" she huffed as she settled down in the passenger's seat, huffing.
"And you could not have pocketed the extra change from your little shopping trip," I said as I rummaged through the bags.
She put up an affronted look. "You're not some serial killer or criminal, are you?"
"Nah, just a garden variety weirdo," I said as I slipped her $1000. "For your trouble and silence."
With that, I sent Ria on her way.
I switched out my clothes in the car and transferred all of my clean money and clothes into the rucksack I had her buy for me. I left the car on the outskirts of town after wiping it down for my prints and blood and burning my old clothes and bag.
It took me half an hour to leg it back into town, and I rented a motel room in a rundown part of town to dye my hair. I changed the motels twice again, sticking to the seedier parts with little surveillance, and settled on a motel with a room across from the freeway.
On a hunch, I cut the wire of the camera that monitored that section of the motel and broke into a room across from my assigned room, one floor above. If someone managed to track me down, I'll be ready.
And it was a good thing that I did.
Because at 2 am, it happened.
I saw several shadowy figures burst into the room I had rented and turned it upside down. My face was ash white, with Ebony clutched tightly in my hand, as men in dark fatigues searched two other rooms before they gave up.
By the time morning came, I was a nervous wreck. I'd bet my left nut that whoever came for me last night had several people hanging around town just in case I turned up. Secret organizations didn't have a habit of giving up easily, not after I murdered their agent. I could kill whoever was left behind, but it'd be smarter to give them the slip and run far, far away.
So that's what I did. Around noon, I left my room with my rucksack filled with cash and hurried down one of the many seedy alleys.
It was blissfully empty, which made repeating my former stunt a breeze. I ran up the building wall, grabbed the ledge, and pulled myself over just before two men in suits came running down.
While they searched for me, I dropped down the second street with changed clothes and took a taxi to the nearest bus stop. I got a ticket for the next town over and did not stop traveling until I was far out of the state.