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Originally written by Chewy Rabbits
The Scarlet Devil Mansion
It was a symbol of the wealth and influence that the mansion's owner had. With an army of servants bustling back and forth to make sure Remila Scarlet was well taken care of and attended to. Not to mention keeping the mansion itself in tip top shape. The battle with the Archdemon hadn't left much of an impact on the denizens of the mansion. That was until the conflict finally ended and the head maid returned to her position. But Sakuya Izayoi hadn't come back alone.
The smell of gunpowder and an age long since past reeked off the gunslinger who walked in with a tattered cape flowing in the wind behind him. Some bullet holes could have been seen here and there and he was adorned in body armor as far as the eye could see. His face was obscured thanks to his hat and the mask he wore with only his eyes visible. Reaching for his twin revolvers, Erron glanced over the mansion as he approached.
Sure looked a hell of a lot more expensive than whatever the Khan could afford. Fancier too. Given that this place had a whole assortment of maids running around, Erron supposed that shouldn't have surprised him too much. Guess spending too much time in Outworld changed his views more than he thought. Thankfully, he'd be staying far away from there for the foreseeable future. Tended to be the case when your previous employer was the ruler of the place and he wouldn't take kindly to being left behind for a new one.
Ah well.
You win some, you lose some. That's just the mentality Erron Black had learned to adopt over the years he'd been alive. As Sakuya lead him to enter the mansion, the mercenary couldn't help but notice that there weren't any windows. The only reason behind it likely having something to do with the vampires who lived here or something. Erron wasn't too big a fan of them personally. Bloodsuckers usually tried to take more than just his coins. What they ended up getting was double helpings of lead courtesy of Erron. As the maid and mercenary stepped inside, Erron couldn't help but comment.
"Place is a lot bigger on the inside than it is on the outside, huh?"
Sakuya merely nodded in response with a slight smirk on her response. The reason for this being that it was thanks to her ability to manipulate time and space that the interior seemed much more expansive. Much more room for her mistress that way. Erron didn't give it too much thought. He wasn't here to be the interior decorator after all. The only reason he came in the first place was to speak with Ms.Scarlet to try and secure a job here as a guard. As they walked, Sakuya was greeted with delightful cheers from fellow maids who were overjoyed to have their head maid back. Erron thought they were kind of annoying but what could you do?
"This is where my mistress resides. Do remember to be on your utmost behavior, Mr. Black."
"I'll be good as long the coin's the same."
Having fought alongside Erron, Sakuya knew full well that all Erron really desired was good pay. Anything beyond that was simply cosmetic. So she could expect him not to say something he shouldn't. Opening the door to Remila's quarters, the room seemed to be shrouded in darkness and as Erron filed in behind Sakuya, the doors suddenly slammed shut and Erron tilted his head to the side as he gazed across the room.
"That's your mistress?"
"Yes, she is. You'd be wise to show her respect-"
Remila had seemingly been sitting on her bed with a cup of tea in hand. Not bothering to glance up, she took another sip of her tea before addressing Sakuya and Erron.
"Sakuya."
"Mistress.."
"I'm delighted you're back. The quality had taken a steep downturn upon your untimely departure. Though I find myself questioning one thing." Sakuya froze up suddenly at the last comment from Remila and shakily murmured back.
"W-What would that be?"
"The human you brought with you. The one that doesn't seem to know how to extend common courtesy."
Normally, Erron would have been content to just let Sakuya rattle on. How she had met him during the battle with the Archdemon and had ended up possibly offering him a place to stay/position at the Mansion. But this vampire had worded her comment in such a way to provoke a response from him. So, who was he to turn her down? Holding up a hand to stop Sakuya in the midst of her explanation, Erron stepped forward and his fingers could have been seen trembling near his holsters, eager to reach for his revolvers.
"Never been too big a fan of vampires. Not a race I like sticking my neck out for if you catch my drift. But pissed off my old employer to come here thinking you'd offer me a job. All there is to it, really. You got the money, I got the respect.." Erron pulled out one of his revolvers and twirled it in a dramatic fashion before lowering it at his side. "And the skills."
Remila was less than impressed by the mercenary's skills with his firearms. But the attitude he displayed was something else. So bold in the face of a power he couldn't even begin to comprehend, maybe even one he underestimated. Maybe a little demonstration was in order.
Remila smirked and vanished, moving faster than Erron's eyes could have kept up with. Erron had fought incredible beings in his artificially extended life. But one with Remila's speed was a bit above his pay grade. Which is why Erron immediately tensed up as he felt Remila's hand clutch onto his right shoulder from behind while her other hand gripped his forearm. Preventing him from raising his revolver lest she snap his arm or even worse. Erron was completely at the vampire's mercy and Sakuya simply stood by watching. She didn't truly wish for any real harm to come to Erron, especially not at the hands of her mistress.
"You're fast..."
Was all Erron could think of to say at the moment. He'd even deliver the statement in the usual casual tone that he had. Remila smirked and her grip on Erron's forearm grew tighter causing the gunslinger to visibly wince. Sakuya stepped forward only to pause after Remila shot her a withering glare.
"Tch, strong too.."
Amused by Erron's reactions so far, Remila kept her grip as it were on Erron's shoulder and arm while leaning in. Her voice was certainly delicate but beneath the deceitful nature of it was a being who drank the blood of others. Like most vampires that Erron had come across in his travels, Remila knew when it came time to talk and not mince words. Even though to Remila this was more a matter of getting Erron to show the proper respect that Remila would have otherwise shown him.
"I'm that and so much more. Sakuya mentioned you're older than you look, Mr. Black. Much older than any human that isn't Sakuya likely has any right to be. But let me inform you of something, Mr. Black. It's not something a lady like me should go around using as a bragging point. But I'm over five hundred years old myself and I've seen people like you walk through those doors and carry the same attitude. I'm known throughout Gensokyo for my politeness and courtesy. If Sakuya speaks for you then I'd be a fool to turn you away. But pay or no pay, I expect the same show of common decency that you would if I stepped into your abode. Certainly if you intend to work in my service. Is that understood?"
"Crystal."
"Good!"
Remila instantly relaxed her grip on Erron and the Outworld cowboy took this time to roll his shoulder around. Remila thankfully hadn't dislocated it but come morning, it'd still be plenty sore. Same went for his arm but he supposed soreness was a plus over having it snapped in half. Most vampires never got close enough to lay a hand or fang on Erron but Remila was in a league of her own. If she had felt so inclined, she could have broken Erron's arm at the elbow and wouldn't have been a damn thing he could have done about it. That little display had earned the vampire some of the mercenary's respect. He could get behind someone who wasn't afraid to throw around their weight if they felt it was needed.
"Apologies for my behavior. But, if that's settled then we're back to square one. You hiring me or not?"
Sakuya who had been silent this whole time glanced back and forth from Erron to her mistress. She'd been grateful that Erron had gotten off relatively unharmed when Remila decided to teach him how to properly address her. It could have gone a whole lot worse had Erron said the wrong thing or if Remila had simply been in a poor mood. But Erron didn't seem too put-off by Remila's actions and as the vampire mused it over, she shrugged her shoulders.
"I don't see why not. It could be amusing having you around, Mr. Black."
"Then we're done here. Sakuya informed me of the pay before we got here. You need me? I'll be at the gate." Any humans thought they could get an audience with Remila without any good proof? They'd have to get through Erron first. Waiting until Erron left, Sakuya turned towards Remila with a hesitant look on her face.
"Mistress, I know you had your reasons for doing it. But was doing what you did to Erron truly necessary? I'd hate for it to sow any kind of dislike."
"Hah! If that pitiful display was enough for him to form an opinion of whether or not he dislikes me? Perhaps he wasn't worth our time, after all, Sakuya. I merely wish all those who wish to work under me to show the proper amount of respect. Mr. Black did not so I wished to make it very clear to him. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. He doesn't seem like a man who lets the small things bother him."
"..I suppose you're right."
"Of course I am! Now, if we're done then I have something I'd like you to head to the human village to get-"
"..Yes Mistress"
Back in the routine, it was. Still recovering from the battle from an Archdemon or not, it didn't matter. Sakuya had a job to do so and so she'd see to it that it was fulfilled! Once she finished writing down the number of items that Remila had requested of her, Sakuya instructed the other maids to keep things running while she was out and as she headed to the gate, she could have seen Erron standing at the gates where he seemed to be looking off in the distance and murmuring something under his breath.
It seemed Sakuya hadn't realized how long she'd been staring at Erron until he spoke up.
"I hear a picture will last a whole lot longer."
"O-Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Black! I was going out to fetch some things from the human village for Ms. Scarlet and I noticed you looking off in the distance. Is there something out there you-"
"No. No questions. It's none of your business."
"But-"
"No."
Put off by how distant Erron was being, Sakuya turned away and turned her chin up. If that's how he wanted to be when she was genuinely curious? So be it then! Giving a defiant 'hmph!' in Erron's direction, the maid continued off without so much as a word from her as Erron leaned back against the gate with revolvers in hand. It was true that he'd been looking off in the distance. But it was for a reason that he felt Sakuya would never be able to understand. You had to be in Erron's shoes to understand it and although the two of them had fought side by side? Sakuya was a maid and Erron was a gunslinging mercenary with his own baggage. Baggage that only he could carry.
Least of all the baggage that made him into who he was.
----
Erron hadn't always worked for Outworld's forces. As a matter of fact, he originally hailed from Earthrealm. The place where he'd been born and raised. Growing up in the period of America where the Wild West was king and you could do what you wanted if you had the gun to back it up with, Erron earned a name around town as the 'Black Death' which had normally been given to the plague that wiped out a good number of Europe's population during the Medieval Ages.
But Erron didn't need disease or sickness to take care of his hits. He had his two trusty revolvers for that. But Erron was a humble man above all else. He didn't see the need to spend his earnings from bounties on luxurious houses or clothes like others did. All he wanted was a hat to cool him off from the blistering heat. Having gotten himself one from the local general's store, Erron made his way down the road only to pause as he heard an old man call out to him.
"Boy! What do you think yer doin' wearin' a hat like that?"
"Bought it. What's your problem, old man?"
"Feh! The hell... You upstart brats think just cause you got a gun it makes you the law of the land? Hah! Take that hat off, boy! You ain't got the right to wear it!"
Now, most people of Erron's disposition would have simply told the old man where to dunk his head. Or simply beat him up, maybe even shot him. Just because they could. But despite his brutish looking exterior, Erron wasn't as jaded as his chosen profession might have had one believe. So holding his hands up, he headed towards the old man's porch and once he drew near it, he knelt down and reached for the brim of his hat.
"Right, right. You seem like a fair guy, I am too. How's about I just tip my hat and I'll be on my way..." Erron's eyes lit up as before he could reach for his own revolver the old man had his own out in a flash and pointed right in Erron's face. This old man was no slouch despite the various bottles of Sunset Sarsaparilla and whiskey sitting near his rocking chair. He knew his way around a gun and even pulled his piece out faster than a fresh merc' like Erron.
"I said you ain't got no right to wear a hat like that. I told you to take it off. Now, you so much as even tip the brim in my direction? You're dead!"
Erron's eyes narrowed but he rose back to his feet and started stepping back. His own fingers still rhythmically tapping the holster where his revolver was still stationed. This old man may have had a past that meant he knew his way around a gun or two but where did that give him the right to go around criticizing folks he didn't even know? As far as Erron was concerned, this old man could go dunk his head until his face turned blue! Nobody would have missed him, nobody would have drunk a shot in his memory, nobody would have shed a tear! But Erron kept this all to himself and once he stepped off the man's property, he turned and continued off to town. Best to just forget this whole thing ever happened.
Which might have been easier said that done. For as the next day drew closer, Erron felt like the townsfolk were a bit more apprehensive to him than usual. It wasn't until he stepped into the bounty office that he saw posters of him plastered all around.
All with his new hat to boot. Stepping towards the bounty collector behind the desk, Erron glanced around before slamming a fist down on the desk to get the man's attention. As the man reached for his own gun behind the counter upon believing that Erron was going to get violent, Erron was quicker to the draw and had his own revolver drawn and aimed square the collector's chest.
"Now, I don't mean you no harm. You're the reason I got my new hat and I'm proud of that. But what I ain't proud of is seeing my mug on your wall. Who put the hit out on me?"
"Erron, you know that information is confidential-"
"My gun don't know that and it's getting a bit impatient. So, why don't you cut the bullshit?"
"..It was an old gunslinger who I owed a favor to. He came in here raising holy hell. About how young folks didn't know what it meant to hold a gun to another man's skull and kill em. He mentioned something about seeing some punk who tried to tip his hat to him and that if this young buck was worth the hat he wore, he could handle a bounty out on his head."
The collector explained and Erron sighed. So it was the same old fart from yesterday, huh? With his face on a poster, this meant people would be gunning all over for Erron. He wasn't one to get too sentimental but this town didn't need a shootout on the scale that it'd take to bring him down.
"I see. I appreciate the honesty." Erron said genuinely as he turned to walk away. The collector sighed but his eyes shot wide open as Erron turned and fired hitting him right in the chest as the bullet came out the back. It was just a superficial and ultimately a petty kill at best. If someone killed Erron then they'd have to take him to the next town over to cash the bounty in. But he wasn't in the best of moods at the moment and it was only going to get worse once he met up with that old man.
"But I ain't gonna be nobody's bounty. "
Making his way back to the old man's home, Erron made sure to have his revolvers drawn before he confronted the old man. But the old man seemed to have suspected this as he peeked out from behind his home and opened fire on Erron. Managing to knock one of the revolvers from Erron's hand, Erron quickly returned fire and clipped the old man right in the shoulder forcing him to drop his own revolver. The wound itself wouldn't kill but it could get infected if it wasn't looked at properly. But that's how Erron wanted it. This old man had ruined his chances of staying in this town all over something so pathetic as his hat. Kicking the gate onto the old man's property wide open, Erron made his way over and gripping the old man by the collar slammed him up against the side of his house.
"I tried to be respectful the last time we met. It ended with you pointing a gun in my face. Well, look at it now. I'm the one who's got a gun in your face and a bullet in your shoulder. I heard you were an old gunslinger. The type of guy I'm aspiring to be. So why sic the lowlifes of these parts on me just for my hat?"
The old man's shoulder was bleeding quite a bit and the man's expression showed that it hurt a hell of a lot worse than it felt. But he couldn't help but chuckle at Erron's frustration.
"You... You want to be like like me you said? Boy, you talk the talk and you sure can back up that talk. The pain in my shoulder is proof of that by god! But...You think it's really all that easy? Kill a few folks and then spend the loot, however, you please? ..What I did was just to help build you up. You'll find folks who'll shoot you where ya stand just for breathin' in their general direction. You gotta be ready for that!" The old man snapped as Erron's grip on him loosened up as the explanation went on.
So, what? This had been some kind of test? To make him a tougher gunslinger capable of realizing that there were plenty of more petty folks than the old-timer here? Considering the reaction he had just had to the old man putting a bounty out on him just for his hat? He supposed that was something he needed to really work on. Silence took over the two before Erron turned to head off but not before looking over his shoulder.
"You gonna be okay?"
"You kidding me? It'll take more than one of your pussy lil' bullets to put me down."
"Good. Then once you get better? We'll settle up. No talking. Just shooting."
"Heh. It's how it ought to be. Pass on the buck. to the next generation"
Erron didn't respond and left with his poncho flowing in the wind and the gate creaking behind him. Erron didn't let it show as much as he could but the old man's words had got him thinking. What kind of challenges would he really face further on down the line? What if he decided he wanted a family? They'd likely be threatened by potential hits of his and murdered. What if he just had a passing fancy in someone? Would they be axed by a jealous gunslinger? What if they put a hit out on him in the hopes of killing him so that they could take the girl's heart instead?
Taking care of most of the mercenaries that came after him, at least for the night. Erron settled into an inn and got some earnest sleep for a change. But as he woke up and headed back to see how the old man was doing, he saw the old man's body with bullet holes scattered here and there and two thugs stepping out of the house looking displeased. The old man had been like Erron when he was younger. He didn't spend the money he earned on big things. But small things he felt that would suit him better like a hat and in this case a house of his own.
Erron had wanted to ask him a few more questions and ultimately duel him. It would be then that it'd be decided whether Erron simply wasn't ready for this world or if it was the old man's time to go. But now they'd never get that chance. Before the two thugs had a chance to react or draw their own pieces Erron was on them in a flash.
*BANG!*
*BANG!*
Two bullets, two bodies. As the thugs collapsed to the floor, Erron walked past them and looked over the old man's corpse. Despite the obvious disgrace that being gunned down by a bunch of nobodies carried, the old man seemed content. Was it because he wouldn't have to worry about living in this chaotic world anymore? Or was it because he knew that people like Erron would carry on in his wake?
..Heh.
It was almost funny. To think that Erron had gone from thinking this old man would die all alone and now he did have somebody at his side at death and it was the gunslinger who the old man had tried to teach. Pocketing his revolvers, Erron decided that if they couldn't have their duel there was still one thing he could do for the old man. Taking his body behind his home, Erron dug him a makeshift grave and placed him inside. The mercenary wasn't exactly one for goodbyes so he'd merely bow his hat towards the grave and made his way off. Best to get out of this town since he had nothing left to look forward to in it.
But the thought still remained. When he got older would he end up like this man? Alone, bitter, angry at the world? Willing to put his life on the line to help teach a new generation of gunslingers? But these were all questions that Erron would never have to answer as a strange figure stepped before him and Erron quickly drew his revolvers.
"Not interested, pal."
"Not interested in what, perchance?"
"Whatever bullshit you're peddling."
"Oh? I think you might be, Erron Black.." The man explained as he stepped forward and smirked at the gunslinger who was only put more on edge by the fact this stranger knew his name.
"Just what the hell do you want?"
"To give you an opportunity, Erron. I saw your struggles with the old man. No doubt you're wondering if you'll fall into the same trap. You'll continue this gunslinging lifestyle of yours only to realize that one day you'll grow disenchanted with it and hang up your guns. Only to grow bitter as another generation picks up where you left off. Who knows? Maybe you'll end up being looted and killed just as this man was. But it doesn't have to be that way. I bring you an opportunity to prevent ever having to face that question."
"..What? Like not aging or something?"
"Exactly. All you need to do is shake my hand. Nothing more, nothing less."
"...Gotta admit, sounds like a bunch of magical hoo-do if you ask me. But you seem pretty serious and after seeing what I did to those two? You should know better than to double-cross me." Erron slowly lowered his revolvers and reached out to grip the stranger's hand. "..What's your name? I don't think I caught it."
"Shang Tsung."
------------
And that's all she wrote as far as the gunslinger was concerned. Shang Tsung had kept to his word and Erron didn't physically age a single day from that point forward. He saw the end of the Wild West and eventually ended up migrating to Outworld which would soon become his new home. He worked in the shadows, taking up jobs whenever Shang Tsung had enough coins to warrant it and then when Kotal took power? Erron joined up with him too.
But Erron never forgot his roots. Before he met Shang Tsung, he was just an upstart who was full of himself. The old man could have blasted him in the face back when they first met and that would have been the end of all this. No Shang Tsung, no Kotal Khan, no Sakuya.
Even after gaining immortality from Shang Tsung, Erron never overestimated himself. Just followed where the coins went. If it meant opposing the khan of Outworld, then so be it. If it means opposing an Elder God? So be it. If it meant opposing an Archdemon and living to tell the tale? So be it.
Working in a mansion primarily run by maids and owned by a vampire child who could have killed him in an instant? So be it.
"I think..I've done enough thinking for the night."
As the moon started to descend on Gensokyo, Erron continued to glance up at the sky. Someday he'd meet his end and then? The old man and he could finally have their duel.
The Scarlet Devil Mansion
It was a symbol of the wealth and influence that the mansion's owner had. With an army of servants bustling back and forth to make sure Remila Scarlet was well taken care of and attended to. Not to mention keeping the mansion itself in tip top shape. The battle with the Archdemon hadn't left much of an impact on the denizens of the mansion. That was until the conflict finally ended and the head maid returned to her position. But Sakuya Izayoi hadn't come back alone.
The smell of gunpowder and an age long since past reeked off the gunslinger who walked in with a tattered cape flowing in the wind behind him. Some bullet holes could have been seen here and there and he was adorned in body armor as far as the eye could see. His face was obscured thanks to his hat and the mask he wore with only his eyes visible. Reaching for his twin revolvers, Erron glanced over the mansion as he approached.
Sure looked a hell of a lot more expensive than whatever the Khan could afford. Fancier too. Given that this place had a whole assortment of maids running around, Erron supposed that shouldn't have surprised him too much. Guess spending too much time in Outworld changed his views more than he thought. Thankfully, he'd be staying far away from there for the foreseeable future. Tended to be the case when your previous employer was the ruler of the place and he wouldn't take kindly to being left behind for a new one.
Ah well.
You win some, you lose some. That's just the mentality Erron Black had learned to adopt over the years he'd been alive. As Sakuya lead him to enter the mansion, the mercenary couldn't help but notice that there weren't any windows. The only reason behind it likely having something to do with the vampires who lived here or something. Erron wasn't too big a fan of them personally. Bloodsuckers usually tried to take more than just his coins. What they ended up getting was double helpings of lead courtesy of Erron. As the maid and mercenary stepped inside, Erron couldn't help but comment.
"Place is a lot bigger on the inside than it is on the outside, huh?"
Sakuya merely nodded in response with a slight smirk on her response. The reason for this being that it was thanks to her ability to manipulate time and space that the interior seemed much more expansive. Much more room for her mistress that way. Erron didn't give it too much thought. He wasn't here to be the interior decorator after all. The only reason he came in the first place was to speak with Ms.Scarlet to try and secure a job here as a guard. As they walked, Sakuya was greeted with delightful cheers from fellow maids who were overjoyed to have their head maid back. Erron thought they were kind of annoying but what could you do?
"This is where my mistress resides. Do remember to be on your utmost behavior, Mr. Black."
"I'll be good as long the coin's the same."
Having fought alongside Erron, Sakuya knew full well that all Erron really desired was good pay. Anything beyond that was simply cosmetic. So she could expect him not to say something he shouldn't. Opening the door to Remila's quarters, the room seemed to be shrouded in darkness and as Erron filed in behind Sakuya, the doors suddenly slammed shut and Erron tilted his head to the side as he gazed across the room.
"That's your mistress?"
"Yes, she is. You'd be wise to show her respect-"
Remila had seemingly been sitting on her bed with a cup of tea in hand. Not bothering to glance up, she took another sip of her tea before addressing Sakuya and Erron.
"Sakuya."
"Mistress.."
"I'm delighted you're back. The quality had taken a steep downturn upon your untimely departure. Though I find myself questioning one thing." Sakuya froze up suddenly at the last comment from Remila and shakily murmured back.
"W-What would that be?"
"The human you brought with you. The one that doesn't seem to know how to extend common courtesy."
Normally, Erron would have been content to just let Sakuya rattle on. How she had met him during the battle with the Archdemon and had ended up possibly offering him a place to stay/position at the Mansion. But this vampire had worded her comment in such a way to provoke a response from him. So, who was he to turn her down? Holding up a hand to stop Sakuya in the midst of her explanation, Erron stepped forward and his fingers could have been seen trembling near his holsters, eager to reach for his revolvers.
"Never been too big a fan of vampires. Not a race I like sticking my neck out for if you catch my drift. But pissed off my old employer to come here thinking you'd offer me a job. All there is to it, really. You got the money, I got the respect.." Erron pulled out one of his revolvers and twirled it in a dramatic fashion before lowering it at his side. "And the skills."
Remila was less than impressed by the mercenary's skills with his firearms. But the attitude he displayed was something else. So bold in the face of a power he couldn't even begin to comprehend, maybe even one he underestimated. Maybe a little demonstration was in order.
Remila smirked and vanished, moving faster than Erron's eyes could have kept up with. Erron had fought incredible beings in his artificially extended life. But one with Remila's speed was a bit above his pay grade. Which is why Erron immediately tensed up as he felt Remila's hand clutch onto his right shoulder from behind while her other hand gripped his forearm. Preventing him from raising his revolver lest she snap his arm or even worse. Erron was completely at the vampire's mercy and Sakuya simply stood by watching. She didn't truly wish for any real harm to come to Erron, especially not at the hands of her mistress.
"You're fast..."
Was all Erron could think of to say at the moment. He'd even deliver the statement in the usual casual tone that he had. Remila smirked and her grip on Erron's forearm grew tighter causing the gunslinger to visibly wince. Sakuya stepped forward only to pause after Remila shot her a withering glare.
"Tch, strong too.."
Amused by Erron's reactions so far, Remila kept her grip as it were on Erron's shoulder and arm while leaning in. Her voice was certainly delicate but beneath the deceitful nature of it was a being who drank the blood of others. Like most vampires that Erron had come across in his travels, Remila knew when it came time to talk and not mince words. Even though to Remila this was more a matter of getting Erron to show the proper respect that Remila would have otherwise shown him.
"I'm that and so much more. Sakuya mentioned you're older than you look, Mr. Black. Much older than any human that isn't Sakuya likely has any right to be. But let me inform you of something, Mr. Black. It's not something a lady like me should go around using as a bragging point. But I'm over five hundred years old myself and I've seen people like you walk through those doors and carry the same attitude. I'm known throughout Gensokyo for my politeness and courtesy. If Sakuya speaks for you then I'd be a fool to turn you away. But pay or no pay, I expect the same show of common decency that you would if I stepped into your abode. Certainly if you intend to work in my service. Is that understood?"
"Crystal."
"Good!"
Remila instantly relaxed her grip on Erron and the Outworld cowboy took this time to roll his shoulder around. Remila thankfully hadn't dislocated it but come morning, it'd still be plenty sore. Same went for his arm but he supposed soreness was a plus over having it snapped in half. Most vampires never got close enough to lay a hand or fang on Erron but Remila was in a league of her own. If she had felt so inclined, she could have broken Erron's arm at the elbow and wouldn't have been a damn thing he could have done about it. That little display had earned the vampire some of the mercenary's respect. He could get behind someone who wasn't afraid to throw around their weight if they felt it was needed.
"Apologies for my behavior. But, if that's settled then we're back to square one. You hiring me or not?"
Sakuya who had been silent this whole time glanced back and forth from Erron to her mistress. She'd been grateful that Erron had gotten off relatively unharmed when Remila decided to teach him how to properly address her. It could have gone a whole lot worse had Erron said the wrong thing or if Remila had simply been in a poor mood. But Erron didn't seem too put-off by Remila's actions and as the vampire mused it over, she shrugged her shoulders.
"I don't see why not. It could be amusing having you around, Mr. Black."
"Then we're done here. Sakuya informed me of the pay before we got here. You need me? I'll be at the gate." Any humans thought they could get an audience with Remila without any good proof? They'd have to get through Erron first. Waiting until Erron left, Sakuya turned towards Remila with a hesitant look on her face.
"Mistress, I know you had your reasons for doing it. But was doing what you did to Erron truly necessary? I'd hate for it to sow any kind of dislike."
"Hah! If that pitiful display was enough for him to form an opinion of whether or not he dislikes me? Perhaps he wasn't worth our time, after all, Sakuya. I merely wish all those who wish to work under me to show the proper amount of respect. Mr. Black did not so I wished to make it very clear to him. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. He doesn't seem like a man who lets the small things bother him."
"..I suppose you're right."
"Of course I am! Now, if we're done then I have something I'd like you to head to the human village to get-"
"..Yes Mistress"
Back in the routine, it was. Still recovering from the battle from an Archdemon or not, it didn't matter. Sakuya had a job to do so and so she'd see to it that it was fulfilled! Once she finished writing down the number of items that Remila had requested of her, Sakuya instructed the other maids to keep things running while she was out and as she headed to the gate, she could have seen Erron standing at the gates where he seemed to be looking off in the distance and murmuring something under his breath.
It seemed Sakuya hadn't realized how long she'd been staring at Erron until he spoke up.
"I hear a picture will last a whole lot longer."
"O-Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Black! I was going out to fetch some things from the human village for Ms. Scarlet and I noticed you looking off in the distance. Is there something out there you-"
"No. No questions. It's none of your business."
"But-"
"No."
Put off by how distant Erron was being, Sakuya turned away and turned her chin up. If that's how he wanted to be when she was genuinely curious? So be it then! Giving a defiant 'hmph!' in Erron's direction, the maid continued off without so much as a word from her as Erron leaned back against the gate with revolvers in hand. It was true that he'd been looking off in the distance. But it was for a reason that he felt Sakuya would never be able to understand. You had to be in Erron's shoes to understand it and although the two of them had fought side by side? Sakuya was a maid and Erron was a gunslinging mercenary with his own baggage. Baggage that only he could carry.
Least of all the baggage that made him into who he was.
----
Erron hadn't always worked for Outworld's forces. As a matter of fact, he originally hailed from Earthrealm. The place where he'd been born and raised. Growing up in the period of America where the Wild West was king and you could do what you wanted if you had the gun to back it up with, Erron earned a name around town as the 'Black Death' which had normally been given to the plague that wiped out a good number of Europe's population during the Medieval Ages.
But Erron didn't need disease or sickness to take care of his hits. He had his two trusty revolvers for that. But Erron was a humble man above all else. He didn't see the need to spend his earnings from bounties on luxurious houses or clothes like others did. All he wanted was a hat to cool him off from the blistering heat. Having gotten himself one from the local general's store, Erron made his way down the road only to pause as he heard an old man call out to him.
"Boy! What do you think yer doin' wearin' a hat like that?"
"Bought it. What's your problem, old man?"
"Feh! The hell... You upstart brats think just cause you got a gun it makes you the law of the land? Hah! Take that hat off, boy! You ain't got the right to wear it!"
Now, most people of Erron's disposition would have simply told the old man where to dunk his head. Or simply beat him up, maybe even shot him. Just because they could. But despite his brutish looking exterior, Erron wasn't as jaded as his chosen profession might have had one believe. So holding his hands up, he headed towards the old man's porch and once he drew near it, he knelt down and reached for the brim of his hat.
"Right, right. You seem like a fair guy, I am too. How's about I just tip my hat and I'll be on my way..." Erron's eyes lit up as before he could reach for his own revolver the old man had his own out in a flash and pointed right in Erron's face. This old man was no slouch despite the various bottles of Sunset Sarsaparilla and whiskey sitting near his rocking chair. He knew his way around a gun and even pulled his piece out faster than a fresh merc' like Erron.
"I said you ain't got no right to wear a hat like that. I told you to take it off. Now, you so much as even tip the brim in my direction? You're dead!"
Erron's eyes narrowed but he rose back to his feet and started stepping back. His own fingers still rhythmically tapping the holster where his revolver was still stationed. This old man may have had a past that meant he knew his way around a gun or two but where did that give him the right to go around criticizing folks he didn't even know? As far as Erron was concerned, this old man could go dunk his head until his face turned blue! Nobody would have missed him, nobody would have drunk a shot in his memory, nobody would have shed a tear! But Erron kept this all to himself and once he stepped off the man's property, he turned and continued off to town. Best to just forget this whole thing ever happened.
Which might have been easier said that done. For as the next day drew closer, Erron felt like the townsfolk were a bit more apprehensive to him than usual. It wasn't until he stepped into the bounty office that he saw posters of him plastered all around.
All with his new hat to boot. Stepping towards the bounty collector behind the desk, Erron glanced around before slamming a fist down on the desk to get the man's attention. As the man reached for his own gun behind the counter upon believing that Erron was going to get violent, Erron was quicker to the draw and had his own revolver drawn and aimed square the collector's chest.
"Now, I don't mean you no harm. You're the reason I got my new hat and I'm proud of that. But what I ain't proud of is seeing my mug on your wall. Who put the hit out on me?"
"Erron, you know that information is confidential-"
"My gun don't know that and it's getting a bit impatient. So, why don't you cut the bullshit?"
"..It was an old gunslinger who I owed a favor to. He came in here raising holy hell. About how young folks didn't know what it meant to hold a gun to another man's skull and kill em. He mentioned something about seeing some punk who tried to tip his hat to him and that if this young buck was worth the hat he wore, he could handle a bounty out on his head."
The collector explained and Erron sighed. So it was the same old fart from yesterday, huh? With his face on a poster, this meant people would be gunning all over for Erron. He wasn't one to get too sentimental but this town didn't need a shootout on the scale that it'd take to bring him down.
"I see. I appreciate the honesty." Erron said genuinely as he turned to walk away. The collector sighed but his eyes shot wide open as Erron turned and fired hitting him right in the chest as the bullet came out the back. It was just a superficial and ultimately a petty kill at best. If someone killed Erron then they'd have to take him to the next town over to cash the bounty in. But he wasn't in the best of moods at the moment and it was only going to get worse once he met up with that old man.
"But I ain't gonna be nobody's bounty. "
Making his way back to the old man's home, Erron made sure to have his revolvers drawn before he confronted the old man. But the old man seemed to have suspected this as he peeked out from behind his home and opened fire on Erron. Managing to knock one of the revolvers from Erron's hand, Erron quickly returned fire and clipped the old man right in the shoulder forcing him to drop his own revolver. The wound itself wouldn't kill but it could get infected if it wasn't looked at properly. But that's how Erron wanted it. This old man had ruined his chances of staying in this town all over something so pathetic as his hat. Kicking the gate onto the old man's property wide open, Erron made his way over and gripping the old man by the collar slammed him up against the side of his house.
"I tried to be respectful the last time we met. It ended with you pointing a gun in my face. Well, look at it now. I'm the one who's got a gun in your face and a bullet in your shoulder. I heard you were an old gunslinger. The type of guy I'm aspiring to be. So why sic the lowlifes of these parts on me just for my hat?"
The old man's shoulder was bleeding quite a bit and the man's expression showed that it hurt a hell of a lot worse than it felt. But he couldn't help but chuckle at Erron's frustration.
"You... You want to be like like me you said? Boy, you talk the talk and you sure can back up that talk. The pain in my shoulder is proof of that by god! But...You think it's really all that easy? Kill a few folks and then spend the loot, however, you please? ..What I did was just to help build you up. You'll find folks who'll shoot you where ya stand just for breathin' in their general direction. You gotta be ready for that!" The old man snapped as Erron's grip on him loosened up as the explanation went on.
So, what? This had been some kind of test? To make him a tougher gunslinger capable of realizing that there were plenty of more petty folks than the old-timer here? Considering the reaction he had just had to the old man putting a bounty out on him just for his hat? He supposed that was something he needed to really work on. Silence took over the two before Erron turned to head off but not before looking over his shoulder.
"You gonna be okay?"
"You kidding me? It'll take more than one of your pussy lil' bullets to put me down."
"Good. Then once you get better? We'll settle up. No talking. Just shooting."
"Heh. It's how it ought to be. Pass on the buck. to the next generation"
Erron didn't respond and left with his poncho flowing in the wind and the gate creaking behind him. Erron didn't let it show as much as he could but the old man's words had got him thinking. What kind of challenges would he really face further on down the line? What if he decided he wanted a family? They'd likely be threatened by potential hits of his and murdered. What if he just had a passing fancy in someone? Would they be axed by a jealous gunslinger? What if they put a hit out on him in the hopes of killing him so that they could take the girl's heart instead?
Taking care of most of the mercenaries that came after him, at least for the night. Erron settled into an inn and got some earnest sleep for a change. But as he woke up and headed back to see how the old man was doing, he saw the old man's body with bullet holes scattered here and there and two thugs stepping out of the house looking displeased. The old man had been like Erron when he was younger. He didn't spend the money he earned on big things. But small things he felt that would suit him better like a hat and in this case a house of his own.
Erron had wanted to ask him a few more questions and ultimately duel him. It would be then that it'd be decided whether Erron simply wasn't ready for this world or if it was the old man's time to go. But now they'd never get that chance. Before the two thugs had a chance to react or draw their own pieces Erron was on them in a flash.
*BANG!*
*BANG!*
Two bullets, two bodies. As the thugs collapsed to the floor, Erron walked past them and looked over the old man's corpse. Despite the obvious disgrace that being gunned down by a bunch of nobodies carried, the old man seemed content. Was it because he wouldn't have to worry about living in this chaotic world anymore? Or was it because he knew that people like Erron would carry on in his wake?
..Heh.
It was almost funny. To think that Erron had gone from thinking this old man would die all alone and now he did have somebody at his side at death and it was the gunslinger who the old man had tried to teach. Pocketing his revolvers, Erron decided that if they couldn't have their duel there was still one thing he could do for the old man. Taking his body behind his home, Erron dug him a makeshift grave and placed him inside. The mercenary wasn't exactly one for goodbyes so he'd merely bow his hat towards the grave and made his way off. Best to get out of this town since he had nothing left to look forward to in it.
But the thought still remained. When he got older would he end up like this man? Alone, bitter, angry at the world? Willing to put his life on the line to help teach a new generation of gunslingers? But these were all questions that Erron would never have to answer as a strange figure stepped before him and Erron quickly drew his revolvers.
"Not interested, pal."
"Not interested in what, perchance?"
"Whatever bullshit you're peddling."
"Oh? I think you might be, Erron Black.." The man explained as he stepped forward and smirked at the gunslinger who was only put more on edge by the fact this stranger knew his name.
"Just what the hell do you want?"
"To give you an opportunity, Erron. I saw your struggles with the old man. No doubt you're wondering if you'll fall into the same trap. You'll continue this gunslinging lifestyle of yours only to realize that one day you'll grow disenchanted with it and hang up your guns. Only to grow bitter as another generation picks up where you left off. Who knows? Maybe you'll end up being looted and killed just as this man was. But it doesn't have to be that way. I bring you an opportunity to prevent ever having to face that question."
"..What? Like not aging or something?"
"Exactly. All you need to do is shake my hand. Nothing more, nothing less."
"...Gotta admit, sounds like a bunch of magical hoo-do if you ask me. But you seem pretty serious and after seeing what I did to those two? You should know better than to double-cross me." Erron slowly lowered his revolvers and reached out to grip the stranger's hand. "..What's your name? I don't think I caught it."
"Shang Tsung."
------------
And that's all she wrote as far as the gunslinger was concerned. Shang Tsung had kept to his word and Erron didn't physically age a single day from that point forward. He saw the end of the Wild West and eventually ended up migrating to Outworld which would soon become his new home. He worked in the shadows, taking up jobs whenever Shang Tsung had enough coins to warrant it and then when Kotal took power? Erron joined up with him too.
But Erron never forgot his roots. Before he met Shang Tsung, he was just an upstart who was full of himself. The old man could have blasted him in the face back when they first met and that would have been the end of all this. No Shang Tsung, no Kotal Khan, no Sakuya.
Even after gaining immortality from Shang Tsung, Erron never overestimated himself. Just followed where the coins went. If it meant opposing the khan of Outworld, then so be it. If it means opposing an Elder God? So be it. If it meant opposing an Archdemon and living to tell the tale? So be it.
Working in a mansion primarily run by maids and owned by a vampire child who could have killed him in an instant? So be it.
"I think..I've done enough thinking for the night."
As the moon started to descend on Gensokyo, Erron continued to glance up at the sky. Someday he'd meet his end and then? The old man and he could finally have their duel.
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