Outside my apartment was what I would call a swarm of the third most unsightly creatures I have ever seen. 

I don't know what the heck they are called but the sight of their bodies makes my skin crawl. Me of all people.

They were as pale as sheets. Walking on all fours with sickly thin limbs that had large veins showing from their skin. Their heads were bald, faces devoid of any features other than a wide mouth with.....no teeth but a long, slimy tongue.

Their skin was like that of an ancient tree's bark with a hints of what I could only assume was slime. 

I say it like they were just standing there waiting for a buddy to finish using the restrooms or something, but NO! They were rapidly closing in on the apartment building. I wondered why I didn't sense them though.

The Molifius as I researched in some old tomes in the organisation, is a curse usually used by demi deities to draw evil on anything marked with them. It can be moulded according to the caster, like how mine has the ageless aesthetic and with it I can also a better feel of any otherworldly existences.

Another perk that was added by whoever casted this on me is the add-on effect of not aging. It took me a while to realise what the full scope of that concept is, and honestly I'm still trying to figure it out.

After visiting countless hospitals asking about the specifics of age and its implications, I learned that aging in its truest essence is termed senescence, where with age comes vulnerability and weakening of the body. Meaning that theoretically, if one doesn't age, the vital functions of one's body can forever put a fierce fight against all disease and injury without deteriorating. Its not immortality but its more like a 'I'LL GO DOWN FIGHTING' longevity.

The fantastical explanation for my curse was that aging was the process of releasing life force. Life force powers the cells, and body's flesh and bones, but according to a very famous Sorcerer, life force isn't something that is constant or in a fixed amount when we are born. His idea was that our bodies continue producing life force but the process deteriorates with time, until the amount produced isn't able to cope with the amount used and emitted, leading to death.

So, since my body doesn't age it's always brimming with life force, the amount its producing not deteriorating at all and none being lost, making me a superhuman whose organs scoff at 90% undiluted alcohol, the cells even capable of speedy recovery of all tissue since life force is in abundance.

The last explanation, was from this psycho who said I'm basically a constant in time. Unaffected by its passage and thereby not aging. But that left too many holes.

So basically I'm not sure which of these ideally apply to my situation. Maybe all or none. 

Back to me grabbing what's important and jumping down the window in a rapid escape, I turned to see those things passing through the walls like they were nothing.

Are they wraiths? Oh SHIIIIIT... What if that psycho was right? And I really am a stubborn constant in time? Are these guys like patrol officers here to take me in??

I kept running and they kept following. From the looks of their phasing ability I don't think weapons could actually do harm and I'm too scared of getting near them to engage. I've seen what happened to Rushing Red and Dark Streak on the TV.

(A/N: The Flash and Zoom respectively . Alternate world vibes).

 A red circle appeared beside me as I was running and just like usual, a featureless d*ck, I mean person, appeared above it, floating while matching my speed as I ran and facing me.

"Have you lost your edge? Losing a girl can't possibly make you dumber than you already are can it? Those are sackers. Summonable entities from a Pseudo hell. Though they can pass through physical matter and literally suck your soul out with but a touch, you have an enchanted item at your disposal that can inflict harm on all mythical creatures. Why the heck haven't you dispatched them yet?" it said with a rebuking tone.

"Oh. Right," I said, the shame affectionately rubbing my face.

"Remember. They were summoned. The summoner is bound to be close by. Finish this and come to HQ, we have something to discuss," the hazy figure vanished, leaving me with a blank expression.

I sighed and turned back to face my foes, activating my enhanced sight ability, All-Seer, which let me see the creatures' grey air and their link to a power source. The summoner.

 However, the link, which was a grey chain connecting each of them, or supposed to be linking them to their master, had nothing at the end of the chain but a foggy haze, following the movements of the beasts. The summoner was preventing the chain from giving away his position.

I stretched out my hand, and with a blur around my palm, a sword appeared in my hand. It was a claymore, 130cm in length, its blade was a shining silver, the hilt was of a dark crimson, with streaks of reddish gold. The pommel resembled a cone, golden in colour with a peculiar insignia.

The whole sword emanated a pristine but shallow glow as I dual wielded it.

"This should be enough," I said, and zoomed with a great speed at the creatures that were not fazed by the appearance of the blade in my hand.

Two of the sackers leapt towards me. We were a distance from the apartment. Luckily for me, with how late it was, fighting in the middle of a tarred road with a bunch of these wannabe-wraiths didn't attract much attention in city's outskirts.

My feet, my torso and my hands. These were the elements I needed. As a hard-core swordsman I valued the grace in my attacks and movements. I despised the haggard and crude movements of pirates or bandits that I had witnessed on television, devoting myself to the true path of the sword.

My hands wielded the blade like it was a loved one. I had held another someone with just as much care too, my right on the hilt, knocking on the guard with my thumb, the left below it, alternating between loose and tight to enhance flexibility.

Swish! Swish!

A powerful down stroke and a horizontal slash immediately after, dispatched my enemy duo in a split second. Barely visible demarcations of the sword attacks appeared on the bodies of the creatures before they shrieked and disintegrated, leaving piles of what looked like cement.

The colleagues of the deceased were still not fazed, rushing towards me still with lesser tact than Gollum reaching for the ring.

(A/N: Lord of the Rings reference).

It seemed like my opponent was either probing me or was confident in the fact that I wouldn't have anything the counter the sacker's intangibility.

Either way, I dispatched the creatures without any problem, leaving me with piles of sand around me as I stood in the freeway.

I waited for a follow up attack, but it never came. It seemed the attacker didn't have plans to further his assault, which I welcomed quite gratefully as I was still not in the mood. My heart was still in shambles and after the adrenaline of fighting something to the death, which somewhat lessened my burden I was still feeling down. As such I decided to follow orders and go to the base.

***

For most people, going to the base of fantastical activity is like travelling underwater to discover a vast city with different and strange constructs or ascending to the Primordial World through the Dao of .... ahem sorry I read too much manga and manhua. 

The point is, for me it's going to a Hot zone, one of 97 in the country and showing the proof of Membership, a mark inscribed on the back of your palm shaped like a simple circle with a simple line within that makes the whole thing look like a smiling circle. Cheesy.

The mark only appears under a powerful influence of magic so its usually invisible.

Once you show it, you're transported to the base, in a zone of the Pinnacle Administrator's choosing. Its programmed choice.

In my case, it was in a yellow room, almost like a cuboid in shape where I found myself seated on a lovely wooden chair on the other end of a lovely wooden polished table, facing Grumpy the cookie monster. My Guide.

"Now let's talk. This is the first time in your record to do such dumb sh*t like exposing your location. A location full of innocent, broke civilians going about their ignorant lives. Things could have gone badly," the man in front of me said. He was a tall man, 1.86 meters in height with blue fuzzy hair rising almost 10 cm above his head like an afro, a bushy beard and moustache of the same colour along with large brown eyes. Dennis. My Guide. A trainer assigned to me until I reach a specific age and rank in the organisation, Hidden Hands.

"Oh please, don't give me this sh*t. If you cared about the general public you'd fight the monsters than terrorise lone cities and kill hundreds. To you it's just collateral damage that bears no extra costs for the organisation," I said nonchalantly.

"We do care. That's why we take youngsters with gifts like you in, teach you the ropes and then you get money, clothing and purpose."

"Don't you mean killing and stealing? I thought it was purpose when I was still seeing ghosts and demons wherever I go. Having them look at me like I was some kind of slab of meat."

"Really? Then why are you still here?"

"Where the bloody hell am I supposed to go? Tonight just proved that belonging isn't really something that my kind does."

"Kid, I know you get all cranky and b*tchy when you're upset but you need to cool off. I'm not a shrink or a therapist. I know what you're going through but if it affects your progress I don't know if you'll be allowed to stay here anymore. Best case scenario is that you'll be 'Flushed' and thrown in back into the streets. Worst case, you'll die. I suggest you get your sh*t together and prepare for your next assignment."

"Next assignment?" I asked.

"Yes. You haven't had one in 2 months. Messing up like you just did today is one way to get downgraded to annual. I'm trying to help you out here. Are you in, David?"

I sighed. Refusing meant decreasing my credibility and losing out on the monetary reward which I desperately need. I used to have no real need for it because I was in love. I could just pickpocket, shoplift or something, but now it was back to reality. Such trivial 'jobs' cannot keep me well for long.

Indeed, I was balancing on a razor sharp blade. Each recruit with a guide has contractors who offer jobs by reviewing your record, but now with more people like me appearing, the competition was fierce and I could barely get an assignment.

"Yeah."