A sudden clanging sound echoed through the salvage yard, startling Hank awake. His eyes snapped open, and he groaned, his head pounding with a hangover. Blinking blearily, he took in his surroundings, trying to piece together where he was and how he had ended up there.
He was atop the bed of his 87 Ford pickup, surrounded by hulks of vehicles that lay scattered like skeletal remains forming a maze of twisted metal, broken glass, and weeds that had grown through the cracks in the concrete in his family's auto salvage yard.
Looking at his overalls stained with grease and spilled liquor he recalled what he was doing here, he was no stranger to alcohol-induced blackouts after an honest day of work, and today was one of those days.
Due to ingrained habit, he rubbed his scruffy beard as he gazed into the night sky. He found that night air was cool, and had a faint, eerie breeze as it whispered through the jagged metal and shattered windows.
He suddenly heard a noise jolting him awake from his thoughts, the noises continued – the crunch of gravel underfoot, the creak of doors swinging open and shut, and a low, guttural moan that seemed to come from the yard in front of him. Hank's pulse quickened, and he felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead.
The yard was dimly lit by a single flickering streetlamp, casting long, sinister shadows. Hank's breath caught in his throat as he heard all these eerie noises coming from the yard in front of him but he could not find the source. Regardless, he had a feeling that he wasn't alone, it was enough to send a jolt of fear through him.
"Who's there?" Hank's voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. He tried to stand, but his legs were unsteady, and he stumbled, gripping the edge of the truck for support.
Hank's mind raced, his drunken haze making it difficult to think clearly. As the owner of an auto salvage yard, he had heard his share of horror stories about haunted salvage yards. Tales of salvage yards being haunted by the spirits of those who had died in car accidents, their souls trapped in the rusting carcasses of their vehicles. He never heeded them but today he —
Suddenly, a loud bang came from behind him. Hank whirled around, his heart pounding in his chest. The sound had come from an old, dented sedan, its door hanging open as if someone had just climbed out. But there was no one there.
He took a step back, his eyes wide with fear. "This can't be real," he muttered to himself. "Just the booze messing with my head." But the noises continued, causing his pulse to quicken, and his back wet with cold sweat.
Desperate to escape, he hurried into his old but trusty Ford truck, his movements frantic and uncoordinated. In the camber, Hank's heart was still pounding as the old truck groaned in protest as he turned the ignition, but by sheer luck or sheer will, the engine roared to life.
As the headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the twisted metal and overgrown weeds, Hank could still hear noises of something flitting between the wrecks. His pulse raced even faster. Slamming the truck into gear, he tore through the yard, the tires kicking up gravel and dust in his wake.
Once on the open road, Hank didn't dare to look back. His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, driving as fast as the old pickup would allow. The haunting sounds of the salvage yard receded into the distance, but the terror remained, etched into his mind forever.
…
[ — Status Screen —
Dame Wasp: Unexpected development. The civilian is awake.
Ace: Have you already engaged the target?
Dame Wasp: Positive.
Dame Wasp: Permission to neutralize the target.
Ace: Negative.
Ace: Authorizing force to secure the civilian if necessary but exercise restraint.
Ace: Update me on all developments.
Dame Wasp: Affirmative.
Dame Wasp: Civilian on the move.
Dame Wasp: Civilian has left in his old pickup truck.
Dame Wasp: Situation handled. All clear.
Ace: Proceed as planned.
Dame Wasp: Copy that. Be on standby for updates.]
"Now that the nuisance has finally left, I can go full out," Emi said seeing Hank drive off in his old pickup truck.
Three gloss black kunai magically appeared between the gap of her right fist, she threw them aiming at the left wing of the scavenger spirit, pining its tattered wing to the wall of staked cars behind it.
The curse spirit screamed in pain as it struggled to free its wing but failed as these kunai were enforced and enchanted by curse energy. All the efforts of the spirit to free its wing proved useless as despite its grotesque looks and size it was just a mortal-tier curse spirit with no combat training whatsoever.
Soon, Emi threw three more kunai, pinning its right wing down. The spirit howled in agony, with both of its wings pinned down it was trapped and in a lot of pain. Still, the scavenger spirit tried to leverage its massive figure to struggle free of its kunai restraining its wings.
Unfortunately for it, Emi was one step ahead of it, taking out a talisman, and pinching it, she leaped to the blad forehead of the spirit and stuck it to its wrinkly skin chanting in her mind, 'Sleep.'
Under the influence of the sleep talisman, the spirit instantly fell asleep but as its body went limp, unable to bear its weight, the wall of staked cars fell forward with the spirit underneath them, *Boom*
Looking at the scavenger spirit buried under the old cars, Emi hurriedly used the status screen to update her master before Dame Wasp could,
[ — Status Screen —
Emi: Target subdued.
Ace: Well done.
Dame Wasp: Target still to be captured.
Ace: Capture the target, clear the field, and return to rendezvous.
Emi: Roger that.
Dame Wasp: Affirmative.]
Giving Dame Wasp a good hard stare, Emi took out a talisman, pinching it she placed it on the scavenger spirit and mentally chanted, 'Turn Cursed shinigami.' A bright light covered the spirit's asleep body and soon the body vanished into the talisman.