Chapitre 125: Den Of Wolves I
Sitting in front of Irwin were three members of the Men of Letters, all dressed as if they were ready to go to war at a moment's notice. The only familiar face in the three was Mick Davies, the leader of this group and the representative of the British chapter of the Men of Letters.
To his left was a wizened yet muscular middle-aged man, armored neck to toe with some kind of ballistic armor engraved with familiar Enochian runes. A long-barreled light machine gun rested upon his back, as well as a dozen well-sharpened silver knives lay across his armored vest.
Contrary to the other two, a woman sat to the right. Her brown-hair tied into a braided ponytail, which was paired greatly with her suede jacket and thick-framed glasses. If Irwin was a betting man, he would guess that she would be their technician.
"Good evening, lady and gentlemen of the Men of Letters." Archibald greeted, sitting at the center of their side of the table. "I am, as you know, Archibald Greythorne. I'm not gonna bother you with my full name."
Mick laughed, showing off his full set of teeth. "And I'm Michael Davies, but you can call me 'Mick'. To my left is our security expert, Robert O' Learry, and to the right is Sandra Ong, our tech analyst."
Archibald greeted all of them before saying, "I must say we have been expecting you for a few months now. May I ask the reason for your delayed arrival?"
"You may," Mick said jokingly, wiggling his eyebrows as if the other people in the room haven't heard that joke for a million times.
He cleared his throat once he only got a polite chuckle from Archibald, "Well, we arrived here a month ago because of a complication on our Western European border. All hands on deck situation. But, uh, we were told to assess the situation regarding the country or this region, at least, before handling our last business."
Irwin scoffed at his response, earning all of their attention. "Oh, sorry. Just… that's a damn good reply."
"Uh, thank you, I guess." Mick scrunched his nose and shared a look with the silver fox next to him before returning his gaze towards Irwin. "You must be Richard? The one who killed the Ancestor?"
Irwin nodded, spreading his hands wide as if waiting for their praise.
Archibald shook his head and continued on, "Now, let us get into business because we're about to oversee our new garden park."
"Ah, the proposed garden park in Willintel Lake. Honestly, I adore that idea. I wish you all the best." Mick placed a hand near his heart with a soft smile on his face. "As for business, we're here to represent the Men of Letters. Our first objective is to make sure that none of the Greythornes would be a danger to this country."
"And, in turn, the Men of Letters' mission to take over North America?" Archibald asked grimly.
Robert grunted when Archibald showed off his fangs, but Mick subtly held out a hand when he noticed Irwin barely hiding the amusement in his face. Mick cleared his throat once more, waving a hand as he chewed on his next words.
"The Men of Letters have yet to show me an indication that it has plans to help North America with its monster problem." He said diplomatically. "Our only job here is to make sure that–forgive my French–your clan doesn't bite off more than it can chew."
Irwin barked out a laugh, eliciting a groan from Archibald. "Told you."
"I know." Archibald gritted his teeth, inhaling through his nose to simmer his anger. "What else are you here for?"
The three agents were startled when Archibald dropped the pretense of politeness in his words, but Mick was quick to adjust. He took out a manila folder out of a silver briefcase and slid it towards the two.
"The Elders would revoke the bounties on the Greythorne Clan–so long as they do not involve themselves with the supernatural world or become infected with any supernatural viruses or diseases. The other condition is that anyone outside of the main family will be summarily executed, even if… even if they are no longer a monster or have knowledge of the family's curse."
Archibald nearly broke the table with his violent reaction as he stormed out of his chair and smashed his arms against the table. Although Irwin knew that Archibald had never been gifted the curse of lycanthropy, being the offspring of three generations of werewolves made his natural strength and agility greater than any normal human being.
"You sons of a bitch!" He roared, causing Robert to stand up and grab onto his hip holster in caution.
Mick and Sarah removed themselves from their seats and took a step back, dear etched unto their faces. It seems that the terror of the Greythorne Clan still remained within its agents.
"That's enough. SIT the fuck back down." Irwin Commanded.
The wave of magical energy pressured the trio until they sat down, with Sandra sitting down on the floor because her chair had been knocked loose and she didn't couldn't bear the pressure any longer. He then stopped Archibald from killing the representatives.
"Ella, we need you here!" He called for her, knowing that she was just behind the door. In fact, there were three people behind that door and a small person who left the moment her mother telepathically scolded her.
Ella opened the door, revealing the armed figure of Gordon and Garth guarding the place. Gordon had a PP-19 Bizon strapped to his left shoulder–a leftover from a military base recently bought by Congressman Brown using Irwin's money–and aimed it at the door, ready to fire without impunity as had he ordered. Garth, on the other hand, was hiding his Angel Blade in his left jacket pocket and a flashbang on the right.
They gazed at the steaming-red Archibald before looking at Irwin for confirmation.
"It's alright. How about we let Archie cool off for a moment? I'll handle the meeting." He ordered sternly, gently handing Archibald to Ella.
Archibald shrugs off Ella's hands before quickly apologizing as he whispered to Irwin, "I don't like this. I will not stand by as–"
"Don't worry." Irwin smiled at Archibald, "I won't let anyone hurt them. Not when I just sent the girl into that culinary school."
Archibald glared at the representative one last time before slamming the door shut and leaving Irwin alone with the frightened guests.
Irwin scoffed exasperatedly, shaking his head at the meeting gone wrong. He sat back on his chair and noticed that each of them had shaken off his Command, allowing them a bit of reprieve from the tense situation.
"I apologize for that. He's… he's a kind man, tired of violence," He said, investigating the pictures and information on the manila folder. "Did you know that he participated in the second World War? Nearly died when he got stuck in Baghdad. Damn that Shah."
There was a chorus of agreements and shared looks as Irwin took his time in rifling through the document.
He closed the file and placed it on the chair beside him, "I can kill most of the wolves in the file; if they're still alive at this point, that is. But I won't kill off the children and the people who're married in the family."
Robert cackled at Irwin's response. "You've got us all wrong, wolf. It's either you agree to the proposition or prepare to be killed off in the next few days. The Men Of Letter–"
"Is so far away from here." Irwin said, interrupting Robert. "Do you really think alienating the only person not directly hostile to you works in your favor? I'm giving you a chance to leave alive and in one piece and, what? You're throwing it away for some doggone loyalty to an organization that threw you into a den of wolves?"
Irwin shook his head as he scrutinized the expression and heartbeats of the three representatives. His eyes gleamed when he focused his hearing on Sandra Ong's heartbeat, marking her for assurance.
"I could kill you where you stand!" Robert stood up, hands in his hip holster.
Irwin could feel the man's heart thundering with emotion, clearly agitated and angered at not being in control. He could have deescalated the situation and, frankly, that would be wise given that he had more enemies than he could count.
But there was an inkling in Irwin's mind that maybe, just maybe, the Men Of Letters was also a threat to the whole world. If he looked at it at one point, they had the capability to encase the whole of the United Kingdom of wardings and sigils.
They also removed any unwanted and unauthorized monsters from within their borders with any immigrant monsters being dealt with the moment they came in contact with land. Irwin was sure that some writer at Supernatural was making a snide comment about the United Kingdom's border control, but in the context of the in-universe lore, they basically created a supernatural-free environment.
As such, Irwin grinned as he leaned closer to Mick Davies and said, "You should leash your pet. It's unbecoming of you."
"You motherfucker!" When Robert roared in anger and pulled out a gun, Mick sighed and ordered him to back down.
"Enough. I'm ordering you to stand down!" Mick growled, pulling his higher rank before turning towards Irwin with a scorned face. "We'll agree to your compromise–"
"–This is unacceptable–"
"–On a case-to-case basis!" Mick said loud enough to wash off Robert's complaints. "So long as you give us a heads-up and a reason."
"The Elders are not going to like this," Robert whispered angrily to Mick.
Mick didn't respond to Robert, merely gazing at Irwin as the latter sat in contemplation.
For his part, Irwin was just staring at the file with nothing in his mind. He was just sweating out the three as they broke into a back and forth. All the while, Sandra's heartbeat was getting steadier as the moments passed.
After a minute or so, Irwin clicked his tongue and said, "That's fine on my part. Anything else the Men of Letters need from us?"
"Yes. Sandra?" Mick motions for their tech analyst to speak up.
Sandra nodded, pushing up her frames. "We recently noticed a large-scale dematerialization within the town. We were wondering if you had anything to do with that?"
"I don't know what 'dema..terialization' is, but if it's about my long-distance teleportation spell, then there's nothing to worry about." He said.
There was an effort not to be surprised by his words, but given that Irwin's senses were enhanced beyond human measure, he could still notice their quickened heartbeats and nervous gulps.
Mick broke the silence with a voice filled with apprehension. "You can… teleport?"
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone