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68.75% Demigod Records: The Chronicles of the Son of Aphrodite / Chapter 22: Fighting a Different Kind of Monster

章 22: Fighting a Different Kind of Monster

They didn't know just how the demigods in ancient times did it without taxis or Ubers.

They wandered for miles on foot, looking for the DOA place. Nobody seemed to know where it was which was a big red flag on its own, not that it seemed all that rare for a relatively niche place to go unnoticed in Los Angeles when there are so many things and people fighting tooth and nail for attention. A lot of competition around. It didn't appear in the phone book, something Percy had suggested for them to try.

It's definitely some Mist shit going on here, Albert thought bitterly.

Twice, they ducked into sketchy alleys to avoid cop cars, mostly to spare them the trouble of dealing with an officer or two and Albert had to step in.

 Percy froze at one point, right in front of an inconspicuous appliance store window because in a television was playing an interview with somebody who looked very familiar— it was his questionable stepdad, Smelly Gabe. He was talking to a reporter, Barbara Walters— as if he were some kind of huge celebrity. She was interviewing him in the apartment where Percy and Sally lived with him before. The guy was bold and had no media training, Albert thought rather shocked, he the middle of a poker game, and a young blond lady was sitting next to him, patting his hand affectionately.

 A fake tear glistened on Gabe's cheek as he was saying, "Honest, Ms. Walters, if it wasn't for Sugar here, my grief counselor, I'd be a wreck. My stepson took everything I cared about. My wife... my Camaro... I—I'm sorry. I have trouble talking about it."

 "There you have it, America." Barbara Walters turned to the camera with an odd look. "A man is torn apart! An adolescent boy with serious issues! Let me show you, again, the last known photo of this troubled young fugitive, taken a week ago in Denver next to the Gateway Ark."

The screen cut to a grainy shot of Percy, Annabeth, Albert, and Grover standing outside the Colorado diner, talking to Ares. 

"Who are the other children in this photo?" Barbara Walters asked dramatically. "Who is the man with them? Is Percy Jackson a delinquent, a terrorist, or perhaps the brainwashed victim of a frightening new cult or gang leader? When we come back, we chat with a leading child psychologist. Stay tuned, America."

"Unbelievable," Annabeth said as she grunted unhappily. 

 "Oh, c'mon," Grover added. "How did she even get to that conclusion?!"

"Well, if I survive this, my father will ground me until I'm 80!" Albert exclaimed in horror. "Oh, goddammit! I can't believe my first appearance on U.S. television was as a suspect or a cultist. If I ever see that Barbara lady I am gonna get her fired! Is this what it's called journalism in this country?"

Percy was so mad he almost tried to punch the TV, but Grover held him down.

When it finally got dark and the night fell, some sketchy hungry-looking characters started coming out on the streets to play. Now, don't get them wrong. Annabeth had no experience with this. Albert was a Brazilian boy who although sheltered by his family's wealth and privileges, he knew that Rio was far from being considered the safest city in Brazil. Grover was more or less used to such a thing. Percy was born and raised New Yorker, he grew up in the heart of the city, and he doesn't scare easily.

However, there was something about L.A. that had a totally different feel from New York according to him.

He explained to the others that back in NYC, everything seemed close. It didn't matter how big the city was, you could get anywhere without getting lost. The street patterns and the subway made sense. There was a system to how things and it worked. A kid could be safe as long as he wasn't stupid enough.

Albert and the others were looking at him with a healthy amount of skepticism.

Percy argued that L.A. wasn't like that at all. It was spread out, chaotic, and hard to move around. It reminded him of Ares in a way. It wasn't enough for L.A. to be just big. It was like it had to prove it was big by being loud and strange and difficult to navigate, all at once.

Albert rolled his eyes. Percy was totally biased. Totally!

They walked past all sorts of people gangsters, bums, and street hawkers, who looked at them like they were trying to figure out if we were worth the trouble of mugging. Albert was a bit excited for some reason, sure, he was technically in danger. Yet, it was probably the first and last time he would get to walk around this city like this.

As we hurried passed the entrance of an alley, a voice from the darkness said, "Hey, you."

Like idiots, they stopped.

Before they knew it, they were surrounded. A gang of teenagers, all boys, had circled them. Six of them in total—white kids with expensive clothes and seriously mean faces. Albert smirked, oh, this was familiar. He had seen people like them before, lots of times, rich kids who liked to play bad boys. His grandparents warned him about people like them, kids who were desperate for attention or were lost without a purpose, or the last kind, the actually shitty malicious ones. 

Instinctively, Percy uncapped Riptide.

When the magical sword appeared out of nowhere, the kids backed off, but their leader was either really stupid or really brave because he kept coming at him with a switchblade. 

Percy made the mistake of swinging, startling the rest of his companions.

The kid shrieked in fear. But he must've been one hundred percent mortal because the blade passed harmlessly right through his chest.

He looked down. "What the..."

Percy figured he had fucked up and they had about three seconds before the guy's shock turned to anger. The boy looked at his friends and screamed, "Run!" 

Albert was very annoyed, why were they running? He could easily take care of mortals' teenagers, he managed to Charmspeak Alecto! Now, he and the others pushed some of the kids out of the way and raced down the street, not knowing where we were going, in the heat of the moment. They turned a sharp corner.

"There, there!" Annabeth shouted.

There was only one store on the block that looked open, its windows glaring with neon lights. The sign above the door.

"Crusty's Water Bed Palace?" Grover read out loud with a weird outlook. "What a terrible name for a store."

Oh shit, Albert thought as he recalled exactly what this place was. Truly, It didn't sound like a place I'd ever go except in an emergency, but this definitely qualified. He knew they had to go there anyway.

He followed the others as they burst through the store's doors, ran behind one of the water beds, and ducked to hide. A split second later, the gang kids ran past outside. As if they didn't even consider the store for a moment.

How convenient was that?

"I think we lost them," Grover panted.

A voice behind us boomed, "Lost who?"

They all jumped, while one of them clicked his tongue in utter annoyance. No time at all, Albert complained in his heart. 

Standing behind them was a guy who looked like a raptor in a leisure suit dressed as a human. He was at least obnoxiously tall, with absolutely no hair and a huge neck for a person. The man had gray, leathery skin, thick-lidded eyes, and a cold, reptilian smile that sent shivers down their spine, his eyes were of a familiar shade of green. He moved toward them slowly, but they all got the feeling he could move fast if he needed to.

The guy was dangerous, and they realized it at first glance.

The guy's suit might've come from the Lotus Casino itself. It belonged back in the seventies, big-time. The shirt was silk paisley, unbuttoned halfway down his hairless chest. The lapels on his velvet jacket were as wide as landing strips. The silver chains around his neck—they couldn't even count them.

"I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile. "I suppose introductions at in order."

Oh, he was, yes, he definitely was crusty.

"Sorry to barge in," Percy told him. "We were just, um... browsing."

"You mean hiding from those no-good kids?" Crusty grumbled. "They hang around every night. I get a lot of people in here, thanks to them. Say, you want to look at a water bed?"

Does it look like they want to buy water beds out of everything?!

There was every kind of water bed you could imagine: different kinds of wood, different patterns of sheets; queen-size, king-size, emperor-of-the-universe-size.

"This is my most popular model!" Crusty spread his hands proudly over a bed covered with black satin sheets, with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard. The mattress vibrated, so it looked like oil-flavored Jell-O. "Million-hand massage," Crusty told them. "Go on, try it out! Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, anyway."

"Um," Percy said, "I don't think..."

"Million-hand massage!" Grover cried, and dove in. "Ok, you guys! This is cool."

"Back off, Grover," Albert stated.

"Hmm," Crusty said, stroking his leathery chin. "Almost, almost."

"Almost what?" Percy asked.

The guy looked at Annabeth. "Do me a favor and try this one over here, honey. Might fit."

"Don't even try that, sir," Albert warned baring his teeth and glaring at the guy with eyes colder than Antarctica. "I am in a very bad mood."

Annabeth looked at him surprised, but immediately took a step back from the guy, followed by Grover and Percy. She hissed at the boy, "Explain!"

"What is going on now?" Percy asked as he uncapped Riptide.

"Oh, to think one of you would recognize me so quickly," The old guy said in mild amusement, as he stared down at Albert with a nasty smile, "Will you do the honors, dear?"

"This guy... his name is Procrustes," Albert said with a nasty scowl of distaste, "also known as "the Stretcher" or "the Subduer," he is a bandit and.... a son of the sea god, Poseidon."

"What did you say?!" Percy asked horrified.

Annabeth quickly added with a now equally displeased expression, "He was notorious for his cruel and gruesome methods of tormenting travelers who passed through his territory. Procrustes is said to have inhabited a stronghold near the Isthmus of Corinth, where he had an iron bed that he claimed would fit any guest perfectly... However, this claim was deceptive." She paused as if she finally saw how glaring and obvious he had been, "When unsuspecting travelers arrived at his doors, he would offer them his hospitality only to invite them to rest on his bed. If the guest was too tall for the bed... Procrustes would forcibly stretch their limbs to fit. If the guest was too short, he would amputate or otherwise mutilate them to make them fit the bed."

"That's messed up..." Grover stated, clearly uncomfortable.

The giant laughed. "All my customers are so inconsiderate. I always do my best to serve them... and then they complain about the fitting. All I do is help them fit. What's so wrong with doing my best to please?"

"You're one crazy bastard," Percy said, particularly angry.

Procrustes reached behind a nearby sales desk and brought out a huge double-bladed brass axe. He said with a smug smile, "I just center the subject as best I can and lop off whatever hangs over on either end. Simple. Don't be so dramatic, little brother. Daddy doesn't care."

"I am not your brother!" Percy roared back.

"I've seen my share fare of monsters before... we all have," Albert commented seriously, "A demigod like you, who by all means should be dead is a first."

"I'm so glad to come across an intelligent customer!" The guy said. "It's so disappointing when I finish with my clients and they don't even recognize me at all!"

The axe on his hands was a big one made out of steel, he casually stretched his hands around it. Annabeth was nervous. Grover made a strangled goose. Percy was seething at him.

"So, Mr. Procrustes..." Albert said, trying to keep his voice light and invoking his power, a lot of power just to be sure. He glanced at the sales tag on the valentine-shaped Honeymoon Special. "If I am such an intelligent and pleasing client who managed to see how great and mighty a demigod like you are. Could you tell me one thing, sir? Does this one really have dynamic stabilizers to stop wave motion?" He asked pointing at one of the water beds.

"Absolutely!" Procrustes replied with a dazed look, "You want to try it out?"

"Yeah, maybe I will..." Albert replied in excitement, but then he frowned looking crestfallen, "But would it work even for a big and strong and mighty guy like you? I mean... No waves at all? How could this be?"

"Guaranteed!" The guy replied even more dazzled, blinking slowly.

"No way!" The boy insisted in suspicion. 

"Way!"

"Will you show me then, sir?" Albert's voice turned deeper and provoking, "You're so tall and big, you could show me."

Procrustes quickly sat down eagerly on the bed and patted the mattress. "No waves. See? I said I guarantee."

Albert's smile and sweetness vanished in a second as he snapped his fingers, saying. "Ergo!"

Ropes appeared out of thin air and lashed around Procrustes and flattened him against the mattress. The big guy accidentally dropped his axe on the ground.

"Hey!" he yelled. "You tricked me!"

"How did you know what to say?" Percy asked intrigued.

"I will have to drink bleach if I have to see you flirt with the enemy again..." Grover complained with a disgusted expression gagging a bit.

"Spare me some too," Annabeth added with a tired look.

"Center him just right," Albert ignored them all and commanded coldly, unwilling to entertain any questions at the moment.

The ropes readjusted themselves at his command. The man's whole head stuck out the top. His feet stuck out the bottom.

"No!" Procrustes screamed said. "Wait! I am sorry! This is just a demo!"

The boy ignored the guy's scream as if it was nothing, he turned to look at Percy who had an uncapped Riptide on his hands. Truth be told, he had no intention of letting this pest live for another day. Albert had no qualms about what he was about to do. Even if 'Crusty' were once human - demigod-, that sword was useless, but in Albert's eyes, he was somehow worse than Echidna ever was.

"You kids drive a hard bargain," he told them. "How, about I'll give you thirty percent off on selected floor models?! It's great, right?"

"You are hopeless," The boy said with a small frown.

"Hey, Albert, what are you going to do?" Percy asked with a complicated look.

"Isn't it obvious?" Annabeth said with lips pressed into a thin line, but she had a coldness of her own as she stared down at the guy trapped in ropes.

"No money down! No interest for six months!" The guy offered again yelling, "Oh, come on, fuck you, kid!"

"Didn't you hear what he said before?" Albert suddenly spoke looking directly at a pair of sea-green eyes. For a moment he realized that, the bad guy although a demigod son of Poseidon. It was infuriating to see a guy like that with Percy's eyes. "When he was talking about the bullies from before? People got here before us, Jackson. Mortals did, unlike us, they never stood a chance."

"But he is a demigod?" Percy tried, even if his tone denounced that he didn't believe in that as a good enough argument. "How can he really be a son of Poseidon?"

"He is a monster..." Grover finally said with a tone of finality.

"You're not wrong, Grooves..." Albert said, but he could understand why Percy was still a bit reluctant. He then thought about something and said, "Not everyone who looks like a hero is a hero, and not everyone who looks like a monster is a monster. Have you never watched the news?"

"You-how did you-" Percy stammered and stuttered looking at him with wide eyes, "my mom used to say that..." He paused for a moment as he finally made up his mind, before looking at the other boy with another complicated look, "Why does it have to be you to do it?"

"A monster or not..." Albert trailed until he finally sighed. "Procrustes is still your half-brother, Percy Jackson... why would I let you be the one to do that?"

Percy gritted his teeth, "I get it, but why you?!"

Albert was stunned. He wondered why this boy was like this. He glanced over the satyr and the girl, both were also looking conflicted. He didn't need to answer this question, not really. Still, he felt should. He wanted to give them something to calm their guilty hearts.

"The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword," Albert quoted from one of his favorite books. "I read this once... It stuck with me for some reason. I thought and I still feel like it's a foolish thought. But... I will be the one to do this today," He then looked at Percy and then to the others, "Look away. He might not turn to dust."

"No, I won't look away!" Percy said.

"You're stubborn as a mule!" Albert countered losing his patience. "Don't test me like that."

"I am not looking away either." Annabeth suddenly interjected. She had her hands closed into fists with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I am not either!" Grover said defiantly, "We are a team... we won't let you do this alone."

"You..." Albert started by and was left speechless. Foolish, he wanted to say, but he couldn't. His heart was beating too fast. Why was he so emotional?

"We are all in this together, Albert," Percy stated, sounding more serious than a boy of his age should ever sound.

For a moment, Albert felt like this was some sort of dream, he would wake up back in his bedroom in Rio, have breakfast with his grandparents, and go about his days like he did before. However, he knew it wasn't a dream. Fearing he might cry again out of sheer emotional turmoil, he silently moved, he grabbed the steel axe from the ground. It wasn't. It was just a normal, oversized ugly weapon. He got closer to the guy.

"You! You gotta have mercy," The guy argued. "Aren't you part of the good guys?! Don't that old horse teach you not to kill mortals?"

The irony of the situation didn't go unnoticed by the boy. Good guy? How dared this man ask for mercy? Did he offer any mercy to his victims How many did he finish on this very store, solely to satisfy his cruelty and vanity?

How fucking annoying, the boy thought. Why did he have to hear judgment for a vermin like Procrustes?

"Say, hi, to Lady Alecto and her sisters for me, will you?" Albert said as he raised the weapon high above his head, "They will have fun with you in the Fields of Punishment."

"Nooo-!"

Procruste's scream was cut off abruptly with a loud short sound. His head rolled to the ground. Albert looked away. He faced his companions, who were looking at him with all sorts of emotions. None of them were fear, much to his surprise. He expected fear, he just killed what was arguably another person. There was a strong sense of sympathy and even pride in them, but Percy was a different case. Albert knew he was mad at him.

Soon enough, Annabeth broke the silence and said they should go look for clues. They looked at the bulletin board behind Crusty's sales desk. There was an advertisement for Hermes Delivery Service and another for the All-New Compendium of L.A. Area Monsters—' The only Monstrous Yellow Pages you'll ever need!' Under that, a bright orange flier for DOA Recording Studios, offering commissions for heroes' souls. 'We are always looking for new talent!' DOA's address was right underneath with a map.

"Found it!" Percy told friends. "Get ready for the Underworld. It's only a block from here."

"I got some drachmas too!" Grover said a bit cheerful. He was getting used to looting the lairs of bad guys. 

"We should go, there is no time to waste!" Annabeth stated.

Albert silently nodded. They were almost reaching the end of their quest. He was so goddamn tired of all of this. He made no effort to dissuade Percy from his anger towards him, he didn't really know what to do anyway. He was glad though. He was glad that the scourge was gone from his hands.

Still, a little part of him wished he could have normal fourteen-year-old boy problems or, at the very least, face a monster who didn't look human. He knew what he had done that day would haunting him for a good time, even if he didn't considered it wrong.


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  • テキストの品質
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  • ストーリー展開
  • キャラクターデザイン
  • 世界の背景

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