Chương 9: Repairs and Gifts

Joshua sat quietly on the doorstep of his ruined home, his feet brushing against scattered leaves and broken bricks. The morning sun filtered through the tree in the back garden. Princess, loyal and ever-watchful, rested beside him, her head on his knee. He scratched behind her ears absentmindedly, his eyes scanning the horizon with tired patience. The house behind him was still a mess.

Scorched wood, shattered windows, silver or blessed bullet fragments embedded in the furniture, and the broken frame of the living room wall… where his daughter had been cornered. Even the rose in its cracked pot, though slowly healing, looked weary. Then, tires groaned over asphalt. The familiar black van rolled to a stop across the road. Its matte exterior still bore some dirt and scratches from last night's chase through the forest.

The door opened, and the same team from the assault emerged, no longer clad for war, but looking very much like soldiers, with their shoulders stiff and expressions guarded. Josh didn't stand up. He simply raised an eyebrow and, with a voice like steel wrapped in tired scorn, said, "I hope you brought brooms, paintbrushes, and hammers." The group froze mid-step, unsure how to respond. Matteo opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Joshua leaned back on his palms.

"Look on the bright side. It's not raining." The door to the van slowly opened, and tools started to pour out. All brand new, right from the hardware store. A truck also arrived behind it, parking in the driveway between Josh's house and his neighbour's. Doyle jumped out of the truck and opened the back, revealing cement sacks and bricks, along with electrical wires and more. Looks like they had done their homework during the night, as none of them looked like they had slept a wink.

Even Eleanor had to wipe her eyes with a bit of water before getting to work.

"We… brought what was needed," Matteo said, his voice subdued.

"And we're ready to make amends." Joshua gave a single nod, slow and deliberate.

"Good. You break it, you fix it. And maybe… just maybe… I'll consider not turning Vatican City into an archaeological exhibit." Princess let out a low, unimpressed bark. No one laughed.

"Start with the gate," Josh added.

"It's hanging off one hinge. Kind of like your whole damn operation." Doyle pushed a broken table leg with a broom, muttering, "I was trained to neutralize vampires, not sweep up IKEA corpses…" Briggs hauled shattered drywall into a heap and groaned at Doyle.

"How about you shut up for once and just do what you're told?" Reeve eyed the mint-green wallpaper in the hallway as he spackled a bullet hole.

"This place had vibes before we leveled it. Shame." Matteo worked in absolute silence, removing broken bricks and repairing the section of wall that had been crushed. Thankfully, only a few electrical wires needed to be fixed, as most of the bullets had missed them inside the walls. Eleanor, who was used to disarming bombs, had little to no trouble working on the house's wiring. She tested each outlet and built-in line carefully, making sure nothing had been damaged beyond repair.

Then came the sound of sandals on gravel. They turned to see Josh approaching, two plastic shopping bags in hand.

"It's past noon," he said calmly.

"Let's take a break." From the bags, he pulled out seven cold bottles of water and a neat pile of packed Chinese takeaway boxes. The team stared at him, baffled.

"…You're giving us lunch?" Doyle blinked.

"You expected I'd starve you?" Josh asked, setting the boxes down on an untouched bit of the porch.

"Well…" Reeve scratched the back of his head, but he didn't seem to have anything concrete to say.

"Look, I know we started off on the wrong foot. No one got seriously hurt, and Matteo here is going to have a special job in the following year to pay for his sin." Josh patted the bulky man on the shoulder, not holding back his strength. Each "tap" nearly knocked the priest over. The others nodded slowly, some a bit more sheepish than others.

"Also," Josh added, cracking open his own bottle of water, "just so you know, my daughter's away for now in another realm… but she will need proper apologies too. Something thoughtful, possibly wrapped. With a ribbon." The five agents and the Inquisitor all nodded. - - - - - - - - - The next morning, they started with shopping. The strike team stood awkwardly near the mall's central fountain, each holding some form of awkwardly gift-wrapped present.

Doyle had four massive bags full of anime-themed stuff, remembering Luna's fascination with the genre. Reeve had gone into shops meant for women and simply asked what young teenage girls liked. He didn't hesitate to buy everything from beauty products to accessories, leaving the store with far more bags than he had originally intended. Eleanor decided to go all-in on the sweet side and bought so many confectioneries that she could barely hold them all. They all nodded along, looking at the growing pile of gifts.

"This should likely make her feel better…" Briggs said with a nod.

"Except," came Victor's voice, suddenly somber, "I broke her heart." The team turned. Victor was walking toward them with two massive, heavy-duty bags. One was marked Glasgow High-End Tech, the other Game Haven. His expression was grim, but determined.

"I saw her room," he said.

"Before I tossed that grenade… Anime posters, comics, and a PC setup that could rival my own." He held up a receipt that looked more like a hospital bill.

"So I'm rebuilding it. Or at least trying to."

"…Victor," Doyle finally muttered, "that's the most beautiful apology I've ever seen." Victor sat down, exhausted.

"I'm not asking her to forgive me. I'm just… trying to make the damage right." Eleanor folded her arms and nodded once in approval.

"Well done, soldier." - - - - - - - - - As Josh stepped outside to see the team once again lined up, they each stepped forward and placed their offerings one by one on a carefully repaired porch table. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Then Victor stepped up last, his tech setup displayed like a shrine. Josh stared at it.

"…Did you guys rob the whole mall?" he chuckled. Victor scratched the back of his neck.

"Nah. Just felt she deserved better than sparkly socks and anime-themed lip balm." he grinned at the others. Josh gave a slow nod.

"She'll love it. Especially the monitor. I'll make sure she knows who it came from." Victor looked down.

"Thanks. And… tell her I'm sorry."

"You'll get your chance," Josh said, then smirked faintly.

"But first, get that lava lamp plugged in. She might like it too." - - - - - - - - - Gaix and Luna had spent a surprisingly pleasant day together. For Luna, it was a carefree outing—an opportunity to explore, taste new foods, and enjoy the sights of a foreign realm. For Gaix, it was... nerve-wracking. After all, the cheerful young girl skipping beside him was none other than the daughter of his patron—Joshua Steel himself. A literal god.

Still, as the hours passed and Luna's radiant personality shone through, Gaix found himself relaxing. She was kind, playful, and utterly disarming. Whether they passed by merchants, adventurers, or passersby, everyone seemed to catch her infectious joy. She brightened the day like sunlight cutting through a misty morning. Then, without warning, a deep voice echoed in Gaix's mind.

"Thanks for looking after her, Gaix. Remind me to send you a bonus. Say your goodbyes, she's coming back now." The voice was unmistakable… Joshua Steel. Gaix turned to Luna, his expression soft.

"It seems your father is calling. Stay safe, Miss Luna."

"You too, Gaix," she said brightly, giving him a little wave. Then she vanished in a swirl of shimmering silver mist. - - - - - - - - - - Luna reappeared in what was once the living room of their home. Now, it looked like a construction zone at the end of a long day. The furniture was outside, most of it beyond repair. The floor was freshly mopped, the walls newly painted, and the air held the scent of sawdust and lemon cleaner.

"…Oh, maaan," she groaned, staring at the empty space.

"Luna, come outside. There are a few people here who want to speak with you," came Josh's voice from the patio. Curious, Luna stepped out. Her first instinct was to raise a shield. The group gathered in the backyard was unmistakably the same team that had attacked her days ago. But something was different this time, their weapons were gone, their expressions sheepish and guilty. And behind them stood a massive, mismatched pile of gifts.

"Father?" Luna asked cautiously.

"What... happened while I was gone?" Josh chuckled.

"I had a conversation with their boss. Let's just say... terms were negotiated. They're here to fix what they broke… and to apologize."

"We are deeply sorry, Princess Luna," Victor said, bowing so low it looked painful. Luna leaned close to her father, whispering, "I'm… not a princess." Josh grinned.

"Just roll with it. Today, you are a princess." At his side, Princess the dog let out a bark that somehow sounded like a scoff. Josh smirked.

"Yes, yes. You'll always be my princess, Princess." One by one, the team stepped forward to offer their apologies and gifts. There were awkward glances, stammered words, and a general air of nervous reverence. Finally, Matteo stepped forward. He held out a plain envelope containing a thick stack of gift cards.

"I… am not good at shopping," he said with a stiff, almost pained expression.

"Please buy whatever pleases you." He hesitated, then gave a rigid bow, refusing to meet her eyes.

"I… am sorry." Luna blinked, surprised. She took the envelope gently.

"…Thank you," she said, her voice softer now. Josh rested a hand on her shoulder and nodded toward the group.

"Not bad, huh?" She smiled… just a little.

"Yeah... Not bad." - - - - - - - - - - It took an entire week to fully restore the house, seven long days of hammering, painting, assembling, and apologizing. Yet, by the time they were finished, the place looked better than it ever had. A brand-new living room set replaced the one destroyed in the raid: a plush grey sectional sofa, a glass coffee table with rounded edges, and a sleek entertainment unit that held a freshly installed 5. 1 surround sound system.

Briggs, surprisingly, had taken a genuine liking to the setup process. Normally accustomed to breaking down doors or scanning rooftops for threats, he found a strange peace in setting up speakers and calibrating audio levels. It was… satisfying. Luna's bedroom had undergone a full transformation. Soft pastel curtains framed her window now, chosen carefully by Eleanor to match a new set of bedsheets adorned with crescent moons and tiny foxes. Victor, meanwhile, took the PC situation personally.

He spent hours recovering files from Luna's fried hard drive, mumbling curses at corrupted sectors like a man defusing a bomb. But to his amazement, much of it was salvageable… especially her music folder. Scanning through it, he felt a twinge of surprise… nearly every track mirrored his own playlists. Lo-fi instrumentals, orchestral covers of anime openings, and even a few rare indie synthwave gems. It was uncanny.

"She's got taste," he muttered to himself, a smirk tugging at his lips. As the days passed, something shifted in the team. The usual gruffness and military stoicism gave way to small laughs and shared snacks during breaks. They joked while painting walls, argued over the best color for the throw pillows, and even helped Josh with replanting the flowerbed out front. It was the first mission in years where they weren't burning something down or closing a coffin.

By the end of the week, they stood back and looked at their work with quiet pride.

"It's weird," Doyle had muttered, tossing a used paint roller into a bin.

"Doing something that stays, y'know?" Nods followed. Soon after a brief goodbye they left, leaving the place with actual smiles. - - - - - - - - - - Wren, the second follower of Josh, had overestimated himself and received a serious wound across his chest. Not only that, but he had also passed out from blood loss. Waking up in a treehouse was not how he expected the afterlife to look.

"Wait… I'm alive?" He tried to sit up, only for his chest to blaze with heat and pain.

"Shit!" A female voice came from nearby, followed by hurried footsteps as someone rushed inside.

"You tore your stitches, idiot." The owner of the voice was a lovely pale elf, her skin white as parchment and her hair the colour of golden wheat. She immediately knelt beside him, checking the bandages with an annoyed expression.

"I'm sorry," Wren groaned as he felt warm blood soaking into the bandages.

"Is there no healer or alchemist around?"

"No. Only I live here, and I'm a ranger. You're lucky I had a needle and thread."

"C… could you get my copper offering bowl and the two monster cores I had?" Wren asked carefully. The elf paused.

"Wait. That was an offering bowl? Are you a priest or a warlock?" Her eyes suddenly became much less welcoming. Wren swallowed.

"I am a warlock… with a good Patron." The elf looked disgusted and stopped her hands.

"I have never heard of any good warlock patrons." It was clear from the way she acted that she had a bad history with warlocks. Still, after a moment of hesitation, she retrieved his two small cores and the copper bowl. Wren carefully took the bowl and placed the two cores inside. Then he prayed. The moment his prayer ended, the stones began to glow. Their solid forms dissolved into brilliant light, sinking into the bowl before flowing into Wren. Suddenly, the burning pain in his chest vanished.

Instead, a pleasant coolness spread through his body. Wren blinked. He felt… great. The exhaustion, the weakness, even the lingering ache from his wounds seemed to have disappeared. He sat up properly and slowly removed the bandages, expecting to see an ugly, half-healed wound. Instead, there was a line of silver scales where the massive wound had been. His hand ran along them. They felt soft beneath his fingers, yet there was something remarkably solid beneath their smooth surface.

For some reason, he could tell instinctively that these scales would stop a sword.

"Thank you, Lord Steel!" He immediately bowed his head and prayed again. The elf stood frozen beside him, staring at the silver scales. She was clearly shocked by the instant divine intervention. But she was not convinced. - - - - - - - - - - Luna raised a brow as the car rumbled along yet another gravel road, the landscape around them growing more barren with each passing minute. The tall grass swayed lazily in the breeze, and a distant flock of birds scattered at the engine's approach.

"Dad," she said at last, arms folded.

"We've been driving for an hour. Can you please tell me why we're in the middle of nowhere?" Josh just smiled, eyes on the narrow dirt path ahead.

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, would it?"

"You said that an hour ago," she groaned, flopping back in her seat with dramatic flair. The car eventually rolled to a stop at the edge of a secluded meadow. Josh stepped out and stretched, then walked a good distance away from the vehicle, glancing up at the open sky.

"Alright," he called over his shoulder.

"You might want to step back."

"Wait, what...?" With a flash of light and a pulse of divine energy, Josh shifted. One second, he was a man in casual hiking clothes; the next, a towering silver dragon with radiant eyes and wings that shimmered like polished chrome. He grinned… well, as much as a dragon could.

"Surprise." Luna's jaw dropped.

"You can transform here too?!" she squealed in delight, immediately bursting into her own draconic form. Her lithe, snowy body practically danced with excitement as she tackled him into a playful hug.

"You didn't tell me!"

"Side effect," Josh chuckled, wrapping one clawed foreleg gently around her.

"I might've... overdone it with the divine energy and nuked my human body. So I got an upgrade."

"I love it!" she sang in that uniquely harmonic tone only her kind of dragons possessed as she sifted. The sound reverberated across the valley. They spent the next hour soaring through the clouds, looping around one another, playing high-speed games of tag and hide-and-seek through the sky, tails weaving like ribbons of silver and white against the azure backdrop. Down below, however, in a copse of trees near the hillside, a lone hiker had just been tying his bootlaces when he caught sight of them. He froze.

He blinked. He then proceeded to very quietly, very urgently, wet himself. Mouth agape, he watched as two colossal dragons flew overhead, laughing to themselves.

"I-I need to stop drinking," he whispered to the wind, backing slowly into the bushes as though pretending he never existed. Meanwhile, high above, Luna giggled.

"Do you think we scared any deer?" Josh glanced down briefly, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Something like that." And together, the two dragons soared back toward home, leaving a trail of silver mist and one emotionally scarred hiker behind.