It was nine in the morning at Los Angeles.
Over Jack Milburn's head was the deep blue cloudless sky stretching to the far beyond.
Reflected before his eyes was the Californian blue ocean. Venice Beach in summer was so crowded with people who came to frolic in the water that it was impossible to find peace and quiet.
However, the expression on Jack's face was quite depressed.
Jack worked for the Los Angeles branch of Sorcerous[1] Sacrilege Investigation (SSI), the government agency in charge of investigating and concealing all incidents pertaining to magic and supernatural phenomena.
John Pluto Smith's death at this location happened a week ago. In front of the eyes of Jack and hundreds of ordinary citizens, he was killed.
"One who has slain gods -- John Pluto Smith! You were truly strong, and even if all the magi in the world were gathered together, you would still prevail. However... It's too late, much too late!"
At that time, Asherah was laughing madly in a frightening manner.
The witch at the helm of a sorcery association -- the divine ancestor Asherah, bragged arrogantly as the victor.
"Though our organization, [King of Flies], has met defeat many times at your hands, we continued to accumulate the essence of water and earth! Absorbing the malevolence and delusional obsessions of the ignorant masses! Now, I have finally taken form as the heretic Leviathan! Hahahahaha, can you feel the divine power overflowing from my body? My rank is now equivalent to yours, for I have become someone at the same level as a Campione -- the Heretic Serpent! Savor this well!"
In contrast to her vile and ferocious nature, Asherah's body was tiny.
The slender body of the beautiful young girl was lost as it began to transform and expand.
Her arms contracted while her legs combined into one, her torso lengthened, her neck extended, a layer of scales covered her once smooth skin, and her beautiful face turned reptilian.
In just a few tens of seconds, the witch Asherah transformed into a giant serpentine monster.
Sweeping through Venice Beach was a demonic snake over fifty meters long. Probably the height of a twenty-story building if extended straight from head to tail, its scales were a shiny silvery-white in color, with beauty that could only be described as otherworldly grandeur.
Facing such a monster, John Pluto Smith challenged his opponent with initiative.
He is a veteran with a decade of shocking experiences. His opponents included fearsome sorcerers, fairies who possessed the ability to control nature, and massive demonic beasts that could easily destroy a city... He had fought and prevailed over all these formidable foes.
Having gone through so many struggles to the death, how could he lose to a mere big snake --
"Smith! You can't, don't go over there!"
For some reason, Jack felt he had to stop him. Jack had been selected by the SSI for his magical aptitude, and now his instincts warned against a powerful enemy, but Smith replied:
"Can your concerns wait, Jack? To refuse a lady's invitation to dance... That is not my style. Besides, I cannot run away from this situation."
As usual, his voice was full of confidence, and he was wearing a black mask with a black cape.
Held in his gloved hand was a steel-colored magic gun. Running towards his opponent as his long cape fluttered, Jack had witnessed this view of his back many times over the past year or so.
In the past, Jack would always find him returning victorious, bragging casually:
"Wait for the alcohol to deliver to your home in celebration of our little victory... Tonight's starry sky is particularly clear, so let us watch the same night sky from our respective locations and have a good toast!"
John Pluto Smith was a man who acted like a perfect courtier. No matter what kind of crisis he faced, he never forgot to maintain a casual attitude. Even the friend who accompanied him through life and death situations had never seen his true face. Even having a drink with him was not allowed. Smith was a man who embodied secrecy.
...In the end, just as Jack's premonition foretold, that man did not return.
In battles to the death against gods, the masked hero had always emerged victorious.
However, the massive silvery white serpent's choice of action was to self-destruct by explosion --
Seeming to ignite the "essence of water and earth" stored within its body, it planned to take down the hero and the area of Venice Beach along with itself. However, John Pluto Smith grabbed the giant snake tightly and pulled it into the water, using all his might to distance them from the shore. Thus, the two mortal enemies died together in the explosion.
And just like that, the hero was dead.
But the [King of Flies] was not disbanded, and Jack took out his cellphone.
He dialed a certain number recorded in his phone.
The call failed to connect... Was this a joke of fate? In the end, they had missed each other and all he could do was leave her a voice message.
"It's been a while, Allison. It's me, Jack... Actually I wanted to tell you face to face, but there is not enough time for that. I'm sorry, I can only inform you like this --"
Having left his farewell message, Jack hung up. Goodbye, my beloved. Goodbye, John Pluto Smith. Jack bid farewell to everyone precious to him one after another.
Part 2
Los Angeles. A major ethnic melting pot and important economical and industrial center.
The capital of sin swirling with crime, the metropolis where decadence and prosperity coexisted, hidden in this chaotic city were many who dabbled in the ways of the supernatural.
Those who sold their morality and conscience to the devil and obtained supernatural demonic powers in return --
In other words, the sorcerers.
The reason why they used Los Angeles as their base was due to the search for the "Angel's Remains" buried in this land, a holy relic that was thought to grant the possessor absolute magical power.
Although the rumor was never substantiated, it was an indisputable fact that more sorcerers were gathered in this city than any other.
Their natural enemy only emerged during the latter half of the 1990s.
Possessing magic power surpassing any sorcerer's, he also had the ability to transform into non-human forms. The undefeated man who ran through the darkness of the night casting spells, turning himself into an invincible giant, and shooting magic bullets.
At the beginning, he replied with answers like "John Smith" or "John Doe" whenever people asked for his name.
Just like a pseudonym tagged on an unidentified corpse. However, to the citizens who heard his legends and witnessed his silhouette, he was named after the great ruler of the underworld.
And so, John Pluto Smith was born.
All sorcerers feared him; the people revered and worshiped him.
It was three in the afternoon, in the area of Los Feliz.
Consistent with California's dry climate, it was bright and sunny as usual.
But Jack wasn't in the mood to take his beloved SUV out for a spin to enjoy the sunny weather. Leaving his car in the parking lot at Samantha University, he walked to the humanities faculty, his destination was the foreign languages department.
He entered the building of a certain research facility.
--But there was no one present.
None of the usual students or staff were there. Presuming a "barrier" had been erected by the person he was visiting, Jack knocked on the door of his lab.
"Hello, Jack. Unfortunately, the situation does not look positive."
"In other words, Asherah's revival ceremony will take place tonight?"
Joe West nodded in confirmation.
A world-renowned researcher in the field of fantasy literature, he was an elderly African American, a precious benevolent mage as well as John Pluto Smith's collaborator.
The old man who assisted the hero for the past decade currently had his entire right leg below the knee wrapped in a cast.
"That's right. With tonight's position of the moon and the stars, as well as the flow of the spiritual ley lines... Everything is aligned for the perfect opportunity. The [King of Flies] will not miss this opportunity."
Professor West sighed deeply.
A benevolent mage like him was in the extreme minority in North America.
This was because during the British colonial era, there were overt witch hunts and oppression from European Puritan immigrants, as well as treaties and resistance from local spirit worship... All sorts of dark and unsavory events have been buried in history.
"After that, the members of [King of Flies] have not slowed their activities. That particular point has made me suspicious, to think they made preparations for this. Really, who could have expected such things!"
Over the past week, the [King of Flies] continued their operations.
Clearly an evil cult-like organization sustained by twisted faith and lacking in reason, one would have expected such a group to fall apart after the demise of the strong leader.
However, the sorcerers were pursuing a strategy of conciliation or even brainwashing against the Los Angeles Police Department (LAPD) and the upper echelons of the SSI. Due to the death of their natural enemy, they were engaging in daring tactics that would have been unthinkable in the past. The situation had developed into the current state where the front line members of the organization like Jack were the only ones still fighting.
"...But professor, how did Asherah survive that giant explosion? When even Smith who pulled her into the water died, how on earth did she live on after that suicide explosion!?"
This past week, he had been diligently searching for the reason why the [King of Flies] did not fall apart.
Having worked as a police officer in criminal investigations, this sort of thing was familiar to him, and he finally found some clues.
The self-destructed divine ancestor Asherah survived, and her wound-covered body had been retrieved. Though still unconscious, she was alive and guarded by the core mem