One Helluva Victory (Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel x OCs)

Chapter 2: The Man In The Gas Mask

Lewis carefully adjusted his horns as he pulled the gas mask from his side and hooked it over his face. The fabric hugged his red skin tightly, forming a seal around his mouth and nose. He then pulled his hood up, covering most of his features, leaving only the horns protruding from his forehead visible. With his disguise firmly in place he strode out onto the bustling streets.

Merging with the crowd, he began to move with purpose. His sharp mind carefully mapped out the few blocks of buildings. He scanned the faces of the people he passed, memorising their features and any details he could glean from their conversations. Names, locations of businesses and other points of interest - he noted them all down in his mind. Lewis's ability to gather information and piece together seemingly unrelated details was what truly set him apart from his peers.

As he gathered all the information he could on his own, he stopped at the side of the street next to a bar. The sound of voices and laughter drifted out from within. Lewis couldn't resist the temptation to eavesdrop. Entering the bar, he heard a voice speak, "So you encountered an overlord? And attacked him? What are you, girl, insane?"

A voice he recognised replied, "No, not at all. There is no way that one was an overlord. Not anyone I'd know at first glance, anyway! Also, he reeked of the human world. Must have just died or some shit."

Lewis took a seat at the bar and removed his hood and gas mask. The bar went quiet as his eerie figure loomed above the other patrons. "Strongest for me," he said to the bartender.

The bartender hesitated for a moment before reaching under the counter and pulling out a bottle, "Here you go, s-sir," he said, his voice shaking slightly.

From across the room, Lewis heard a voice, "That's him."

Lewis poured about half the bottle into a glass, the liquid a deep, dark red. The other patrons eyed him warily, but Lewis merely smiled as he replied to the voice calling him out, "I remember you too," he said, grasping the glass and raising it to his lips.

A sultry voice spoke from next to the person he recognised, "You know that will kill you, right? Or at least leave you seriously paralyzed?"

Lewis simply grinned, "Good," He gulped down the drink and slammed the empty glass back onto the table, "Damn, you really got my hopes up, mate."

As he turned around, he noticed a feminine figure from earlier sitting at the table with a tall, thin, white-furred humanoid spider. Lewis and the spider locked eyes, "Names?"

The whole bar erupted into laughter, but Lewis remained composed with a slight look of confusion on his face.

A rough voice chimed in, "You can tell he's new!"

Angel Dust, the spider, spoke up, "I'm Angel... Angel Dust. The pornstar."

Lewis nodded and introduced himself, "Lewis Alpin, soldier turned mercenary. Wish I could say it was a pleasure, but I'm having a really shitty day today."

Angel teased, "Aww, someone's feelings hurt?"

Lewis wasn't amused, "Drugs?"

Angel perked up, "What?"

Lewis continued, "You died by drugs, correct? Possibly a Phencyclidine Overdose? From the way you act, I'd guess you lived in New York, possibly in the 1940s or 50s. If so, I'd go further and assume you had relations with the mafia, judging by that Thompson submachine gun next to you."

Angel was completely shocked, "You been tracking me or somethin'?"

Lewis smiled, "Just educated guesses. As your friend said, I just died and today should be... uh, the 25th of May 2014," He paused, whistling, "And as I was only born in the mid-'80s, I would have had no knowledge of one drug ODing fool."

Angel tried to play it off, "Ouch, ow that hurt so much. Why don't you call me something more creative next t--"

Lewis interrupted him, "What? You want me to call you a dumb arse shit who looks like and probably does get fucked in the ass by seven rabid dogs at least twenty times a day or some other simple, stupid shit?"

Angel was taken aback, touching his chin, "Uh, that works better."

Lewis nodded and turned back to the bar. He finished his drink, stood up and announced, "I don't have any cash on me at the moment, so just open a tab for me and only me, understood?"

The bartender nodded, "Yes, sir."

Cherri Bomb, the cyclops sitting next to Angel, chimed in, "Aww, not gonna order a cuppa tea?"

Lewis retorted, "Shut it, Aussie, or I'll set the Emus on you."

Cherri's eyes widened, "How did you..."

Her voice wasn't Australian sounding at all. In fact, she sounded more like an American. But Lewis still picked out the small mistakes and clues she'd made in hiding her true accent.

Lewis smiled, flipping her off as he walked out.

He quickly walked down an alley and used part of the wall to pull himself up onto the roof. Taking the pistol from his holster, he examined it closely. He started to unload it bullet by bullet, analysing it as he spoke, "Fifteen bullets. It looks to be a 9mm Parabellum pistol somewhat reminiscent of a Browning Hi-Power but with the grip of a Glock 17."

After cleaning the barrel and the chamber meticulously, he oiled the mechanism before slowly reassembling the pistol. He racked the slide a few times, tested the sight alignment and pulled the trigger. The pistol clicked, and Lewis smiled. "No mag safety, huh."

Just as he was about to holster his weapon, a scream echoed through the streets from an alley a few blocks away. Lewis didn't waste any time. His head shot up as he darted to see what was going on, jumping from rooftop to rooftop until he reached a point above the source of the noise. He slipped on his gas mask and pulled his hood up, determined to remain incognito.

He took another step forward and jumped off the side of the building...