Cody the Guardian of Hell

Chapter 17

Slade leaned against the bar sipping his bourbon on the rocks. The young 25-year-old Hellhound veteran was recently honorable discharged from his years of service in fighting terrorism but was now left with no direction to go from here. Thankfully for him, it was a slow night at Lar's Bar. This was Slade's kind of bar with quiet music and few people. All the neon lights glowed brightly in the night, and the air blew a gentle breeze.

Now that he was out of the army, he returned to his gothic fashion and look. He had a V-shaped torso with broad shoulders. His black hair had blue highlights. He wore his black sleeveless leather jacket, black Punisher Skull T-shirt, fingerless hard-knuckle gloves, blue crystal necklace, and black cargo pants. He was already tough as a Hellhound, to begin with, but his time in the Special Forces made him even stronger. His arms could tear the metal off of a tank or rip a man in half, and his legs could run him from America to the tip of the horn in South America.

Slade groaned a heavy sigh before sipping his drink. Slade had been in his human disguise for so long that he had almost forgotten what his Hellhound form looked like, and he had stayed on the surface for so long that he had no idea how much had changed. He looked at his smartphone, browsing the photo library of all his friends, now KIA.

Then another man around his age, height, and similar athletic state approached Slade. He was a Japanese American with layered black hair, bright green eyes, a navy blue T-shirt, black jeans, and steel-toe boots.

He leaned on the bar beside Slade, "Buy me a drink, soldier?"

Slade turned to him, and he recognized him. He spoke in a slightly deep and scratchy voice, "Kyorichi?"

Kyo smiled and hugged him. Slade hesitantly hugged him back, still surprised to see his old friend Kyorichi Kentoiroshi.

"Holy shit. Hey man," Slade said.

"I know. It's been too long. Let me look at you," Kyo said,

They both scanned each other head to toe.

"You got taller," Slade said flatly.

"Were you always this buff? Your arms and legs got strong, but you still got no ass," Kyo joked.

They both chuckled. Slade got him a glass of Brandy. They both said at a table with two couches outside with the fire pit table.

"How long has it been? Five years? Six?" Kyo asked.

"Seven. I was 18," Slade answered.

"Oh yeah, that's right. You joined the Special Forces. What was it? The Navy Seals?"

"JTF 2, Joint Task Force 2. Canadian, and yes, they do have Special Forces, and what many people don't know is they've killed more terrorists than Navy Seals."

Kyo raised his eyebrows as he sipped his drink.

"They kept you busy, huh?" Kyo asked.

Slade lit a Black & Mild cigar, "Oh yeah," then he exhaled a cloud of smoke, "They kept me very busy. The dead have lots of company."

"I hear that."

"What have you been up to?"

"Oh, you know, hitman and vigilante work. You know how much I fucking hate evil bastards. I've hunted human traffickers, mob bosses, corrupt cops, and judges. Then I kill them and possibly take their money if they got it in cash. Some days I'm rich; others, I got five or eight bucks in my bank account."

Slade smiled, "Well, I don't have to worry about money anymore."

Kyo looked around to make sure no one could hear their conversation. Then he leaned forward.