The security room was both messy and organized at the same time. At the far end of the room, opposite from the door, the wall was covered by a dozen screens, each showing a different part of Kuoh. Issei recognized a few of the shops, some of them being places he had worked at before.

On the walls ajacent to the screens, important looking papers were tacked on with thin threads connecting them to one another. In the center of the room was a large wooden table with an almost-as-large map in the center, numerous red circles and markings scribbled on it. Surrounding the table were four conveniently placed seats.

None of this really mattered to Issei. His thoughts were in disarray, the memories of what had happened the night before becoming increasingly clearer with each passing second.

He had killed people last night. His mind hadn't been clear then—he had been so focused on searching for Kaasan that he hadn't bat an eye. But now that he reflected on it, he felt sick.

The thought of taking another person's life appalled him, yet he had done it so easily the night before. He was just a normal sixteen year old boy—at least as normal as one could get under his circumstances—he should be dealing with the perils of high school drama and such. How could things have come to this?

No boy his age should have been so forcefully and mercilessly thrust into such a situation. Even after all of those talks with Ojisan of the horrors he had seen, as well as the minimal training he had received, Issei had been utterly and woefully unprepared for it.

The initial explosion had scared him to death, and he had feared the worst for his mother. He had no idea what was going on, all he knew was that he had to get over there. Was it a gas explosion? Perhaps an ignition due to electrical failure?

When he arrived, it was to find those men, those terrorists that wished him and his family harm. Everything went by in a blur, and before he even knew what happened, there was blood on his hands, blood that was not his own.

He kept telling himself that it shouldn't be this way, that he shouldn't be feeling this cold, crushing weight. They had attacked him first, he thought, so he was merely defending himself, right? But no matter the justification he could come up with, the pressing guilt of being responsible for someone's death, the erasure of their legacy, their existence, was brutal.

Is this what it was like for Ojisan? Going out and snuffing out lives day by day without a second thought? He wanted to throw up at the idea. He had to remind himself that his uncle did it for the greater good, killing terrorists and vanquishing evil—all of that shit.

Even worse, those men had been trying to kill him. They shot at him relentlessly and mercilessly, and Issei could honestly say that he shouldn't even be alive. He had taken eight hits—EIGHT—or so he's been told. Even if he couldn't remember being hit so many times, he could still remember the pain.

The searing agony of having your flesh ripped apart by molten lead, the sheer impact creating a permanent cavity in your insides. It was a nightmare.

Why had they attacked in the first place? What were their goals? Those bastards had come out of nowhere and attacked for seemingly no reason. It pissed him off to no end.

He and Kaasan were just normal people, right? If so, what reason did they have to hurt them!?

The boy clenched his fists tightly.

He needed to get stronger. Something told him that this wouldn't be the last of it, and if Kaasan's explanation of the supernatural was any indication, this was just the beginning. If he didn't get stronger, he would die, no doubt.

All of that fighting the other night had been totally luck. He had run in there half-assed, wielding some funky super powers he had no idea how to use, firing weapons he had no experience with.

Hell he didn't do shit. Kaasan did all the work, taking everybody else out like a badass while he stood on the sidelines gaping like a fish. He should have been the one saving her, not the other way around. How could he be so weak?

And that juggernaut. That damn armored fucker. Issei felt completely hopeless when that sadist of a man mutilated his legs. His weakness and inexperience had led to his downfall, and he paid the price for that. Had Ojisan not been there, he would have been dead for sure. Kaasan too.

Shaking his head, the boy let out a deep breath. Another thought—a question really—burned a hole in his brain. Should the situation ever call for it again, would he be able to take another's life? If he did, would he get used to it over time? Would that make him a monster? Did that make Ojisan a monster...?

Issei threw a subtle glance at his uncle, shaking slightly. No. For all the men that Ojisan has surely killed, he couldn't be a monster. Not with the way he cared for Kaasan and himself. Even if other people thought he was a monster, he couldn't be. Issei wouldn't believe it.

Even so, Issei didn't think he could ever be accustomed to killing someone. It was just so...evil. But if a time came where he was forced to fight, to kill so that his loved ones would be safe, would he do it?

The boy hesitated. He thought back to all the things Ojisan had done for him, all the care and love Kaasan had put into raising him. Would he kill for them?

'...Yes. I would, wouldn't I?'

At that moment, Issei made a promise to get stronger so that there wouldn't be another close call like that. He would get stronger, so that Kaasan wouldn't have to worry, so that Ojisan wouldn't have to save his ass every time he fucked up.

Besides, how could he die when he had a dream to attain? Long ago, he had vowed to become HAREM KING! And even if all of this supernatural bullshit was coming to play, nothing will stop him from achieving his goals!

On that note, Issei shook himself out of his volatile thoughts. Instead, he distracted himself with his surroundings, scrutinizing everything in the room. Sat on his left was Amelia, who stared dejectedly at the floor, slumped over with her ears flattened on her head and her knees tucked into her chest.

Lunch had been canned beans, dull and flavorless as they were. The result? A very sad, cute Kaasan apt for perpetual head pats. As much as he wanted to, Issei didn't reach over and pat her head—that would have been weird. No matter how cute his own mother was now, he must resist, if only for the sake of his dignity as a son.

Sitting across from the pervert was the sergeant, Roach. Issei wasn't quite sure how to properly address the man. The sergeant was a trained veteran, an operator of the best hand-picked warriors on the planet. Did he refer to him as senpai? Or perhaps sensei? It would be disrespectful to refer to the man as Roach-san. But would the man care at all? It didn't seem like it. Maybe just Roach-senpai would do...

The pervert felt that the man was familiar somehow. He'd never met the sergeant before in his life up until now, but something in the back of his mind told him that the man was familiar. Call it instinct—or even just a hunch—but he felt a genuine connection somehow. It honestly freaked him out—he should be totally wary of this dude, especially when he saw the man doing questionable things with Kaasan(ew), but he wasn't. It was like being with an old friend.

Little did Issei know, Roach was feeling the exact same way...

The last available seat was empty. Rather than sitting down, Ghost stood up with both of his hands on the table, his eyes sweeping over the large map in front of him. Issei waited with apprehension for the lieutenant to start.

Finally, the man took a deep breath, folding his arms across his chest. "I hope you lot are comfortable, 'cause we've got an ass-load to cover. First things first: until the situation on the surface clears up, we're stuck down here. This is the only place that nobody's gonna go looking. I've made sure of that..."

Issei looked at his uncle quizzically. "Down here? Actually, where even are we?"

"This safehouse is underneath a church. It's got a built in passage system that I've modified. Nobody gets in here unless they've got the firepower of a tank division."

Amelia was knocked out of her dejection, suddenly alarmed. "You built your safehouse under a church!?" How did she not notice when she came in? Had she been too busy healing Issei to realize?

"Relax, these rooms were already here when I found them, I just made use of them. I doubt anyone will come down here anyways. It was a dusty old place when I cleaned it out ten years ago. As far as I can tell, it's been long abandoned," Ghost explained calmly, waving his arms placatingly.

"It's still the angel's territory," Amelia retorted. "What if they find out?"

The catgirl pouted when Ghost only shrugged. "The big man upstairs hasn't smote me yet, so I think I'll be fine. For now...Anyways," he continued, bringing their attention back to the map, "the situation on the surface ain't a pretty one. Civvies are going crazy about what happened. The feds are calling it a terrorist attack, the press are saying it's a gang war, and online social media thinks it's bloody aliens. Nobody's getting anywhere with it."

Issei remembered the bright flashing lights he saw right before he blacked out. He still didn't know wether or not it was Ghost's doing. Maybe he should ask later.

"Unfortunately, there's nothing we can do about that. What we can do is stop what happens next." The operative pointed at a large circle at the western edge of Kuoh. "Right here is where you lot we're attacked," he said, nodding to Issei and Amelia. "It turns out that there were two different groups that attacked at the same time. One of them is an anonymous mercenary group led by an unknown. The other is a band of organized terrorists led by one Vladimir Makarov."

There were gasps at that, Issei included. "Y-You mean the Makarov that's been bombing facilities all around the world since, like, forever? That Makarov?"

Issei wasn't one for politics, but everyone knew who Makarov was; the mastermind behind hundreds of terrorist attacks around the globe. The man didn't flinch in the face of anything, be it murder, human trafficking, slavery, etcetera. He was a true monster among men. The atrocities he committed were bone chilling, and the idea that this monster set his sights on Kaasan made Issei's blood freeze.

Unaware of the thoughts going through Issei's head, Ghost gave the boy a surprised look. "Seems the bastard's gotten pretty infamous recently."

"Well, he has been on the news a million times, so..."

The lieutenant nodded at that. "Right then. If you didn't know, Makarov is the CIA's most wanted terrorist. They wouldn't call him that if he wasn't smart. Point is, a professional like him wouldn't have sent his own army after a low-priority target. In fact, he put a bounty on your head." He threw a sideways glance at Amelia. "Sorry sis, but you ain't that important."

"I think I prefer it that way," the catgirl replied, a disgusted look on her face.

Issei frowned at that. He wasn't known for his intelligence, but even he could see what Ghost was getting at. "Why are they here, then? Why did those assholes even attack us in the first place?"

"That's the problem—we don't know what he's truly after. Only reason he would have attacked Amelia is to get to me, but he has a bigger agenda than that, which means he was trying to kill two birds with one stone. Lucky for us, the bastard cocked-up, and now he's got his own men on thin ice with those mercenaries. I reckon those blokes were after the bounty, actually. Now, we don't know what he's after, but we've got an opportunity."

He pointed at another circle, close to the central business district. "About two years ago, I planted a bug in Kuoh's largest cell tower—never thought it'd come in handy 'till now. Turned it on this morning and found something pretty interesting."

Ghost pointed at another large circle situated in the southeast of Kuoh, near the more dilapidated parts of town. "I managed to bypass their encryption, and since those tossers couldn't keep their mouths shut, they gave me the exact location of one of their warehouses, about two klicks to the east of the red light district."

Humming to himself, the lieutenant crossed his arms again. "If we're quick about it, we may be able to take them out within a week's time."

"W-wait, hold on," Issei interrupted. "You mean you want to go fight those bastards head on? That's crazy! We'll get ourselves killed!" His thoughts strayed towards the fight from the other night again, how there had been so many of them, how had been shot so many times.

Ghost paused at Issei's short outburst. He swept his gaze around the room and saw the concerned and partially fearful faces of Amelia and Issei.

The lieutenant sighed. "Look, I've been a soldier for almost twenty years, Issei. I'd like to think I'd picked up a few things in that time. Of course attacking them head on would be daft—we haven't even scouted their base yet. We've got a lot to do before that. Besides, Roach and I have taken out entire bases, just the two of us back then, eh Roach?"

He glanced over at the sergeant who nodded in confirmation, but neither Issei nor Amelia seemed quite convinced.

"Well, that's true, but still...this is just too much. So much shit has happened in only a single night, I just..."

Ghost pressed on despite Issei's disagreements. "As long as Makarov's men are in town, things are bound to get bloody. Not only are you in danger, but every last civilian in town has their life on the line as well. In my profession, civilian casualties are unacceptable. Even if I have to do it by myself, outmanned and outgunned, I ain't gonna let the bastards run without a leash, you get me?"

His eyes blazed with a fire that chilled Issei's bones. The inferno of a war-torn soldier, hardened from years of experience burned behind those elusive sunglasses, an expression of unbreakable resolve hidden by an intimidating sign of death on a mask. Issei could feel his determination, and it was oddly inspiring. His most recent quest to get stronger echoed in his mind.

"Officially, you two are civilians," Ghost motioned to Issei and Amelia, "I can't force you to fight alongside Roach and I. If you don't want to help us, fine then, we'll take the fight to them ourselves. I'd prefer it you be safe than sorry anyways." He paused for thought. "But, Amelia, you have the know-how when it comes to this magic bullocks. We'll need you in the future for sure when they start hitting back. And Issei, I know you don't have too much going for you, lad—"

"Ouch. My pride."

"—but you'll need all the experience you can get for the future when them supernatural blokes come for you. Plus, I know neither of you want this town going to hell. Neither do I. Ain't nothing gonna stop me from chasing them out. But your involvement is dependent on you. So...I know it's sudden, but, what do you say, eh?"

Amelia sat up straighter in her seat, catching Ghost's attention. There was a stern look on her face, as if she was about to reprimand a child. Then, she raised her hand...for some reason.

The catgirl's cheeks grew warm when everybody stared at her. After a moment of hesitation, she dropped her hand and spoke up. "Er, I-I'll do it. Under one condition."

"Name it."

"I want you to train Issei in martial arts. Like you did for me back then, remember?"

Issei raised a brow. "Ojisan trained you in martial arts?" He was ignored.

"Consider it done. I was planning on training him either way. He'll need it for what comes next."

A beatific smile spread across the catgirl's face, her ears twitching and her tails flicking happily. "Thank you, Onii-chan," she beamed. At the back of the room, Roach found himself bewildered by her radiance. He so wanted to touch those ears.

Ghost only nodded. "Don't mention it, sis," he waved off. He turned to Issei. "And you, lad?"

The boy hesitated, and when it seemed he was about to answer, he stopped himself again. An agonizing bone-chilling thought came to his mind.

If these bastards were in town...and they were threatening the existence of this town...that also meant that they were threatening the existence of Kuoh Academy...and if they were threatening the existence of Kuoh Academy...they were threatening the possibility of high school life for him...and if they were threatening his high school life...then that meant they were threatening his one and only golden express ticket to becoming a HAREM KING!

NEVER! THEY SHALL BE PUNISHED!

"Ojisan, let's kick their asses! If they stay in town too long, I'll never get a gir—go to school!" he roared, a fire burning in his eyes.

Ghost chuckled at that. "Good on ya, lad. That settles it. We're all on board with this operation." While he still held some reservations about this, he felt that having the two involved might be for the greater good.

With that out of the way, he focused on the map once more. "Right then, back to the playbook, lads."

Excited as they were, the rest of them turned back to the map.

"The warehouse is our primary target for now. There's no way in hell it's the FOB though, it's too bloody small for that."

"FOB?" Amelia asked curiously.

"Forward Operations Base," Ghost explained. "That doesn't mean we should leave it be, though. It's our only lead so far, and who knows, it could hold a goldmine of info that we can use to our advantage." He paused, rubbing the chin of his mask. "That being said, we need to take it out as soon as possible. I'll be conducting reconnaissance at 0300."

0300? Wasn't that three o'clock in the morning!?

"S-so early? You just got here!" Issei recoiled.

"We need to move fast—the longer they're here, the more dangerous it'll be. We don't get to sit one out when it comes to these terrorists. When an opportunity comes up, we take it, no matter what. Not only that, I don't have any active cameras in that part of town, so I can't monitor their movements...shit."

"Really?"

"Yeah. That doesn't mean we don't have other things to do, though." The lieutenant turned to Amelia, and the catgirl gazed at him curiously in response. "Amelia, do you think you can teach us magic?"

And just like that, the curiosity turned into starry-eyed excitement.

"Eh? Of course! I'll teach you everything I know, that way, you'll be able to defend yourselves against even devils! It'll be a great learning experience." the catgirl said cheerily. "Um, now that I think about it, I'm not sure if your guns will be that effective against the supernatural. I mean, I can dodge bullets fine, and they're only small pieces of metal, so..."

Ghost stared. So did Roach. "You can dodge bullets?"

"Er, the slower ones aren't too bad, but the fast ones are barely dodge-able. Really, it kinda just depends on how far away I am and how good their aim is. Usually, normal humans can't react to my speed fast enough to properly aim, but if they did, I guess they could hit me?"

It sounded more like a question than answer.

"...I see..." Ghost muttered. If that was the case, then conventional weaponry would be rendered null against more powerful creatures. He'd need to upgrade his weapons to be faster and stronger somehow. Maybe...

"Right then, we're done here. Does anyone have any questions?"

Amelia raised her hand again. This time, Ghost pointed to her. "What've you got, lass?"

"Well," the catgirl poked her fingers together, "I kinda don't have any clothes of my own," she said, gesturing to her baggy t-shirt and pants. "So, I'll need to go shopping really soon."

Ghost folded his arms across his chest, looking the nekoshou up and down. Makarov's men were probably consolidating at their own hideout. After such a large incident, they would be smart to lay low for awhile, especially since none of them looked Japanese, being Russians and all that.

Amelia, however, was a tried and true Japanese nekoshou, so she wouldn't have a problem with navigating the town. Maybe he should send Roach just to be sure...Even if the man was a foreigner and wielded guns of his own, he still had a legal gun license for the entirety of Japan, and nobody said that hiding your face is illegal. He should be fine as long as nobody recognized him...

"Tell me before you leave, when you leave. And take Roach with you."

The lieutenant raised a brow at the devious smirk that spread across the catgirl's face. Unnoticed by him, Roach sat up ten times straighter, suddenly very much alert. "Thanks, Onii-chan!" she hugged her brother.

"...Right," Ghost drawled, reciprocating.

'What have you done, Ghost?' Roach shivered in his seat. He shrank back a bit further when those glowing amber eyes of mischief turned to him, seemingly scrutinizing his form. 'Dangerous.'

"Now that that's all sorted," Ghost gently pulled away from Amelia's embrace. "We've got work to do. Issei, come with me."

"Eh? Sure thing Ojisan."

The lieutenant turned to Roach who was no longer shivering but was still contemplating heavily. "Roach, if you need it, take a rest. We haven't had much since...Shepherd." The name came out with such venom that everybody shivered, Roach included. "But, if you can, I want you learning what you can from Amelia as soon as possible, understood?"

The sergeant gave a nod of acknowledgment as Ghost turned to Amelia. "Think you can get the basics down with him? We're all only human after all."

"I'll see what I can do," she smirked.

Ghost nodded. "Right then, you're all dismissed."

VVVVV

When Issei stepped into the armory, he couldn't help his jaw dropping at the sheer vastness of the room's apparatus—in other words, the copious guns lining the walls possibly numbering in the hundreds, the metal tables and chairs with intricate handmade devices decorating them, and the crates of weapon parts, ammunition, and other shit he didn't recognize piling so high that a shadow was cast beneath them.

"Whoa," he muttered, awestruck. "Where did you get all this stuff, Ojisan?"

Ghost calmly strode by him, making his way over to a table with a particularly large gun on it. "What do you think happens to all the guns and ammo left behind by dead blokes after battle?" he answered vaguely. The lieutenant motioned for the boy to come over.

Issei complied, sliding up next to him. He began studying the massive armament before him.

There were intricate designs on it, circles with what seemed to be a combination of runic symbols and...mathematics. The body of the gun was glowing softly along the small carvings, a mellow gold hue.

It soon dawned on him that this was the same weapon from the other night. "This is the gun that hurt Kaasan," he said solemnly.

"It is, isn't it? So there must be something special about it...But more on that later," the lieutenant replied. He began taking the gun apart, slowly and methodically.

Piece by piece, he took apart the stock, the optics, the barrel, and the receiver.

Silence reigned, save for the few clinks of metals hitting each other, and Issei soon found himself growing uncomfortable. It wasn't long before he voiced his thoughts.

"So...what did you bring me here for, Ojisan?"

Ghost never looked up from his work. "I want to know how you're doing, lad."

"Eh?"

"I know what you went through last night. What you had to do."

Issei froze. Once again, the pressing guilt came back.

"I...I didn't have a choice."

"You didn't. And that's why I want to know if you're okay." The lieutenant looked away from his work, and even from behind the sunglasses, Issei could feel the genuine concern. "The first kill ain't ever easy, and I'm sorry to say it, but if you can't handle it, you ain't gonna get anywhere from here on out. Nobody your age should have to deal with this bullocks, and yet here you are."

He put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Which is why I'm asking now. Can you handle it, Issei?"

The boy gulped, his body trembling slightly. "I-I think so." He mentally berated himself for stuttering like that. Ghost's gaze burned a hole in his head.

"Are you sure about that?"

He hesitated. "...Does it get better?"

Ghost sighed in response. "It will, lad. Soon enough you'll get used to it. I've been doing it for too long to feel anything about it. But I know young lads like you who've offed themselves because of it." The lieutenant glanced back at his work. "You ever have second thoughts about this whole thing, you come straight to me, understand?"

"Yes sir." The response was automatic, almost as if it had been ingrained into Issei's brain long ago. "I just...I'm afraid that if I get used to it, it'll make me a psychopath or some shit like that, y'know?"

"You don't know the half of it, laddie," Ghost replied grimly. "Not the closest thing to the truth, but not the farthest either." He turned back to the teenage boy. "If it makes you feel any better, I used to be like that as well."

Issei's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yeah. But by the time I completed my first mission, things changed. I got used to it real fast. After offing about a dozen I didn't even flinch anymore. It actually scared me at first...but, now I don't feel anything at all. It's all just a part of life for me."

"I...I see..." The thought of being used to killing still chilled his bones, but Ojisan's words had relieved him somewhat. If he did get used to it with the passage of time, then maybe it'd be for the best. At least, he hoped so.

"Right then. I didn't bring you in here just for a talk," Ghost said as he stood up, pushing the weapon parts to the side. "Let's see what we can do with them superpowers, yeah? Whip out that gauntlet of yours."

"Really?"

"Yes. If what sis said is true, then you've got a hell of weapon glued to your arm. We ain't gonna let it go to waste."

As Issei processed those words, he felt a small bubble of excitement welling up inside him. The gauntlet—the Boosted Gear had saved his life the other night. The immense power it provided to him was an absolute rush, and he felt he could take on the world with it.

Extending his left arm, he called it forth with his mind, and in a flash of light, his left arm donned the majestic gauntlet. The boy studied it with notable interest, as did Ghost.

"So, this thing doubles your power every ten seconds?"

"Er, something like that."

Ghost nodded before walking over to the other side of the table and sitting in a seat across from Issei. He set his right elbow on the table, folding up his sleeves in the process. His hand was elevated over the table, open as if ready to shake someone else's.

"Let's have at it, then!"

Seeing the challenge, Issei smirked. Ojisan may be a strong dude, but with this gauntlet, there's no way he could win!

"You're on!"

The impromptu match started as expected, Ghost not budging the slightest against Issei's helpless strain. It was kind of embarrassing if Issei were to admit. But that didn't matter, he had a god-slaying weapon on his side!

"Come on, lad, put your back into it!"

[BOOST!]

"Take that!"

Issei's smirk fell from his face when the massive arm refused to budge. Ghost didn't seem the least bit perturbed by his doubling of strength. No matter, that was only the first boost. Surely another would do him in.

[BOOST!]

Another rush of power, the energy of the Boosted Gear flowing through his body, empowering it as a whole. With all of his might, Issei pulled in the opposite direction of his opponent. His veins popped as blood flushed through, supplying oxygen to whatever muscle group needed it the most.

And yet, Ghost's arm barely twitched.

"W-What the hell are you made of, Ojisan!?" he grunted between strains. He was four times as strong as he was before, and yet, Ojisan was still keeping up!

"Only the best, lad!" Ghost shot back. The lieutenant held his ground even as he felt the resistance skyrocket. Even as he wrestled, ideas popped into his head on how this power could be trained and utilized.

[BOOST!]

Another rush, an aura of green energy bursting from the gauntlet. A harsh glow in Issei's eyes, the boy jerked his arm to the side with eight times the amount of his original strength.

"Ah, bloody hell!" Ghost finally began to fold under Issei's new strength.

It honestly amazed him and slightly angered him, how this one gauntlet attached to an average person could outdo the strenuous strength training of a twenty-plus years SAS veteran...Fuck it, it pissed him off quite a bit actually. That was so fucking cheating. In merely thirty seconds, an average teenager was making him cave even after the years of commitment and strength training he put into keeping his body in tip-top shape. The shit he went through, fighting through hell and back to keep the world a safer place—all of it being spat on by the Boosted Gear.

Ghost wasn't a particularly prideful person, truly, he didn't give much a damn about shit like prestige and rank. But seeing how easily Issei was now beating him, how this average boy was shitting on the metaphorical hell that soldiers went through all their lives, sticking out their necks just to protect the innocent, getting jacked as fuck so that others didn't have to—it pissed him off. The boy basically got this thing handed to him on a silver platter.

Knowing this, the Lieutenant refused to be beaten. He reached deep within himself, and in an instantaneous moment, a white-black aura enveloped his body, his eyes glowing white behind his sunglasses. His muscles bulged as Touki enhanced them immensely, far more than his normal strength.

See, the thing is, Ghost could already break through thin walls of hardened concrete before he got this new power. With it, his strength was magnified several times over. As such, Issei didn't stand a chance in hell.

In an instant, Ghost retaliated, pushing against Issei's hand with such speed and force that the air around it seemed to flex and bend, brushing out of the way as fast as possible. Their hands collectively smashed against the metal table, Issei on the receiving end of the force. The impact was enough to make a large dent in the structure, the small shockwave creating a blast of wind that dispersed throughout the room. The vibrations alone knocked the weapon parts off of the table and onto the floor.

"Fuck! Ow!" Issei cursed, pulling his hand away in pain. He massaged it, briefly glaring at his uncle. "What the hell was that for?"

Rather than responding, Ghost took a moment to study his arms. The beautiful black-white aura enveloping them seemed so majestic in a way. The strength it provided him was immense. He chuckled mirthlessly to himself. Where has this been all of these years? The days he actually needed it...Had he acquired this power many years ago, he may have been able to save them...

He blinked away those thoughts.

"Well, can't have you beating me just yet," Ghost replied, folding his arms. He tore his gaze away from the glaring boy and looked at the table. "Bloody hell, look at that."

Just from slamming his hand down on the table, he had managed to make a massive dent in the metal. This Touki stuff is much more powerful than he thought. If this was what happened from something as little as an arm wrestle, then how powerful would his punch be?

The lieutenant caught sight of the dismantled PKP Pecheneg in pieces on the floor. He briefly walked over and picked them up, placing them back on the table.

"...Let's try something else."

For the next two hours, uncle and nephew would experiment with their powers, discovering things that they never thought possible. It turned out that the Boosted Gear was much more versatile than what Amelia had described.

Its ability to Boost, or double the power of the user, was not restricted to doubling the user's physical abilities; it could also double metaphysical and conceptual ideas. Ghost found it to be a bunch of malarky. The doors that this discovery opened up were ridiculous.

Doubling things such as willpower, tensile strength, hardness, physical damage resistance, pain resistance, emotion, and even cognitive ability and perception. It was just...fucking insane. What if things such as muscle gain could be doubled? That would be...pretty scary actually.

Another thing, an ability called Explosion, released all of the power that the Boosted Gear had stored up with each consecutive Boost after the user had reached their maximum capacity. This gave the user an unimaginable amount of power for a limited amount of time.

As far as either of them could tell, there were only two downsides. For one, after reaching the maximum amount of Boosts and using Explosion, the Boosted Gear would reset itself, draining the user of all the power they had been given. This could prove to be fatal in battle if Issei isn't prepared.

The other downside was that Issei couldn't Boost above the maximum number of Boosts he was allowed lest his body supposedly tear itself apart. The boy had begun to feel a strain after boosting five times, and couldn't boost any further. Ghost deduced that it was because Issei's body was too weak.

He equated it to filling up a glass bottle. If you filled it up to full and kept filling it, it would eventually burst. Perhaps Issei's physical body needed to be stronger in order to contain such power, then he would be able to Boost even more.

They weren't able to test much in the ways of quantifying strength, though. There was nothing to measure Issei's maximum strength with, unless Ghost was willing to sacrifice one of his metal tables to see how much Issei could dent it in one hit. He wasn't, by the way.

They could however, test strength by seeing how much weight they could lift. At five Boosts, or sixteen times Issei's strength, he could easily hold up one of the tables with only one hand. And by holding it up, they meant supporting the weight of one table by holding up one of its legs vertically such that the whole table was parallel to the ground. Again, it was fucking insane.

Ghost found that his own Touki had magnified his strength to levels he himself couldn't comprehend. The very same table he had dented, he was able to hold up much the same way as Issei with no strain in his arm whatsoever. And, as far as he could tell, his Touki never drained.

It made sense—his Touki was the very manifestation of his life force as a weapon. It shouldn't drain over time, or, if it did, at a very slow pace. It also supposedly worked like a muscle. The more he trained with it, the stronger it, and by extension, he, would get and vice versa.

If that was the case, he would need to update his training regiment—just crossfit, lifting, and circuit training wouldn't be enough. He would also need to make a training regiment for Issei that utilized both his own strength, and the strength of the Boosted Gear.

After more or less fucking around with their powers for a while, Ghost finally came to test his other ability—the darker one.

The lieutenant stood in place, his signature black-white aura enveloping his body. Issei sat on his left, observing the man intently with a hand on his chin, Boosted Gear nowhere in sight. After a moment of brief concentration, it happened.

Issei breathed out a, "Whoa," as Ghost's very form seemed to disintegrate, becoming a black, flame-like mist that licked at the air, sparks of white coming off of it, though not as pronounced. His face was replaced by a white skull in the exact same shape as his mask. His sunglasses were replaced by two beady glowing eyes the same color as the skull. All in all, he looked badass. Even after the transformation, his form still took the shape of a human.

The sixteen-year-old shivered as the temperature dropped a few degrees. "Holy shit. You're like a ghost now. Like a real one! That's pretty badass."

Ghost gave no verbal response, approaching Issei without slowing down. "H-Hey, what gives—!?"

The boy's arms shot up reflexively as the mist collided with him. But rather than hitting him, the mist dispersed around him, coming back together behind him. A glacier-like cold fell over him, and his teeth chattered.

"T-That's a l-little cold, don't you t-think? Jackass," he punned, glaring at the mist.

Ghost's form shimmered slightly, as if chuckling at him. He didn't seem the least bit bothered being called a jackass by his own nephew.

Then, the mist turned to the right. A smoky hand reached out towards the metal table, grabbing onto an empty styrofoam cup. Rather than phasing through however, the hand firmly gripped the object, holding it up. After a brief moment, the cup phased through the hand, as if it wasn't even there.

The lieutenant picked up the cup again. He squeezed it lightly, and Issei made another sound of amazement as the cup disintegrated into the same black mist, never to be seen again.

After another brief moment, the mist dispersed revealing Ghost underneath, fully clothed with a styrofoam cup in hand.

"How did you do that?" Issei asked.

"I...I don't know. I just knew how." The operator took a deep breath, placing the cup on the table. "Bloody hell, the things I could do with this..."

Interesting. An ability to take on the form of an intangible mist that allowed him to touch physical objects when physical objects couldn't touch him. Apparently, he could also store objects with it.

It was funny really. Has he been so invested in his own legacy as Ghost that he's taken on the form of an actual ghost? Whatever the case, he wasn't complaining. This was perfect for covert ops.

"Wicked."

"So? What are you calling it?"

"You want me to give it a name?"

Issei shrugged. "All superpowers have names. Haven't you watched any anime?"

"...No, I have not."

"Well, you can't just not call it anything."

"If you're so adamant about it, why don't you come up with a name for it?" Ghost offered.

Issei hummed. "How about...Phantom."

The lieutenant gave the pervert a quizzical look. "Phantom?"

Issei flushed under his judgmental gaze. "I-I mean, calling it Ghost would kinda be redundant, so Phantom is like the next best thing."

Ghost nodded slowly. "Sure. Phantom it is then," he drawled. His arm lit up in a spray of black-white sparks as he activated the ability once again, studying it intently.

Again, all of this was just insane. All of these powers were like something out of a fairy tale. Each one was so diverse, and it made him wonder what he and the team may be up against in the future. Angels, fallen angels, devils and demons, magicians, vampires, youkai, and a million other species he couldn't hope to remember. Each one could crush a human in mere seconds.

What's more, Makarov supposedly had some of these forces on his side. It was crazy to think that armies of magicians and magic folk laying siege on Europe and the Americas could suddenly very well become a reality. It would be a bloodbath.

Price and Soap needed to be warned about this. The only question was, would they believe him? Probably not. Ghost himself still couldn't believe this was happening. If worse comes to worse he'd have Ozone, Scarecrow, and the others to back him up.

Now that he thought about it, he has yet to see what Amelia is capable of. It made him curious. While one didn't necessarily need to move at Mach speed to dodge a bullet, their reaction time would need to be at superhuman levels, and their speed, much faster.

At a distance of 20 feet or about 6 meters, if one had reaction time that was instantaneous, they would not be able to dodge it regardless of how fast they are, even if they were the fastest human on earth.

A bullet would travel the distance of 6 meters in 0.008 seconds if moving at a speed of 762 m/s, or around the speed of most rifle cartridges. If Amelia were to successfully dodge out of the way by a hairs breadth, given that she would need to cross a distance of only 1 foot, then her initial velocity would need to be at least 85 mph or 137 kph at the very moment the bullet is fired, given that her reaction speed was instantaneous!

Holy fucking shit! How the...what the...fucking what!? Not only that, but Ghost doubted Amelia's reaction speed to be instantaneous—it's literally impossible for that—which meant that Amelia was much faster than that! Take into account the fact that her initial velocity was that fast, and that she had ample time to accelerate, then how fucking fast would she be at her maximum!?

Now, it is true that Amelia never specified how far away she was when dodging, and she said that those who shot at her weren't fast enough to aim at her, so she could be slower than that. Also, she clearly stated that dodging slower rounds had been easier, not necessarily easy. Handguns generally fire rounds in the 350 m/s range, so at the same distance of 6 meters, she would only need to move at 41 mph or 66 kph. That was still fast as fuck, though.

How the hell did she move that fast without injuring herself? One would think that muscle or tendon tearing would occur if the body was pushed to such levels. Moreover, how fast did she react to the bullets? Were most supernaturals that fast?

As these questions popped up, Ghost found himself staring at the dismantled PKP Pecheneg, sitting on the table by itself.

From his brief inspection earlier, Ghost managed to gleam a few things about its design. First off, the intricate circles and markings running along the weapon, engraved into the metal. It was clear that these markings enhanced the weapon somehow, if the soft glow it was giving off was any indication.

The second thing he found was that this weapon was not made of any metal he knew of. It was heavier than should be, even for its size.

The third thing he noticed was the type of ammunition. It was the same 7.62x54 mmR rounds as any other PKP Pecheneg, except these ones had tungsten penatrators on them.

Essentially, they were armor piercing rounds, made for tearing through light-armor. These would have done a number on his APC.

Amelia had tanked three hits in the chest and stayed conscious throughout the whole night, or at least until she went to bed with Issei. The boy also managed to tank eight hits and was remarkably still alive.

Was this resilience present in all supernaturals? If so, he needed to upgrade his arsenal, and fast. Perhaps this...magical weapon was the key to doing so.

The lieutenant glanced back at his nephew. The boy looked pretty worn out, what with all of the boosting in the past two hours. Perhaps they should take a break.

"Say, Issei," Ghost started. "You should go and get some rest, lad."

"Huh? Okay, I guess. What's with the sudden shift?"

"We've got a long week ahead of us." He walked over to the dismantled PKP. "I'll be drawing up a training regiment for you, so be prepared to run your ass off."

"O-Okay," Issei nervously replied.

The boy left the room a moment later, prompting Ghost to sigh.

Indeed, there's gonna be a long week ahead.

VVVVV

A/N: I'll be honest, not feeling too proud about this chapter. Feels a bit rushed. If anyone sees any holes at all, plz review and criticize my work. I'm trying my best to pace this story, but I'm not sure if it's going too slow or not.

That's all for now, gents.

SYD, signing off.