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

Chapter 11: Drinking night

Three days later...

Lewis sat behind his desk, surrounded by stacks of reports from the greed ring. The production was progressing smoothly, but the sheer volume of documents demanded his meticulous attention if he wanted to avoid being deceived.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimmer, a sniper's glint, reflected in his mirror. Reacting swiftly, he flipped the table as a bullet pierced through the air, striking his chair. Retrieving a rifle from the side of his desk, he unleashed a volley of return fire in the general direction of the threat. The blaring sirens echoed throughout the facility, amplifying the tension in the air as Lewis darted into the corridor.

Gunfire erupted from below, mingling with shouts and yells from both his team and the assailants. Aware of the imminent danger, Lewis hurriedly accessed a secure safe, retrieving a sturdy plate carrier and a helmet. Swiftly donning the protective gear, he dashed out of the building, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Engaging the enemy with a barrage of well-aimed shots, he managed to force two opposing shooters into seeking cover. A thought crossed his mind as he continued to exchange fire, "They're skilled... I'll give them that."

Leading the charge, Lewis pressed forward into enemy lines, successfully pushing back the opposing ground units. However, he couldn't help but notice a peculiar pattern emerging—both sides were deliberately aiming to wound rather than kill. Puzzled by this realisation, he hurriedly attended to one of his injured comrades, examining the spot where the medic suspected a bullet had struck. To his surprise, there was no actual wound, only a bruise. In a moment of curiosity, he shook his jacket, and a wooden object fell out. As he picked it up, his eyes widened in recognition—it was a wooden bullet.

Whistling to signal his team, Lewis called out, "Hold your positions, focus on precision shots!"

His orders were echoed through the ranks as the enemy forces appeared bewildered, resorting to using mirrors to peer around corners and assess the situation.

Taking advantage of the confusion, Lewis swiftly relocated to a different piece of cover. Just as he did, he heard a distinct click. Glancing in the direction of the sound, he spotted an enemy soldier, a human, with a damaged helmet as if a bullet had grazed the top. Realising that the soldier's pistol had jammed, Lewis lunged towards him, delivering a forceful blow that shattered the weapon in the man's hand. Following up with another strike, he incapacitated the soldier, rendering him unconscious.

"Human, huh?" Lewis whispered, his gaze fixated on the man's face.

Checking the soldier's pockets for identification yielded no results. He then examined the inside of the man's helmet, his eyes narrowing in recognition at the brass badge welded in. "SAS..."

Lewis brought his radio to his lips, signalling for his men to cease fire. With the chaos of the battle subsiding, he stood up and called out, "Byrne!"

A figure emerged on the rooftop, instantly recognizable as Byrne. Lewis approached him, a mix of surprise and concern on his face. "How are you here?" he asked, genuinely puzzled by Byrne's presence.

Byrne's lips curled into a smile as he descended from the building, rifle still in hand. "We found a way into hell through a group of succubus," he replied, his tone suggesting an adventurous accomplishment.

Lewis nodded, correcting Byrne's grammar in passing. "It's succubi," he pointed out. However, he quickly shifted his focus to the matter at hand. His grip on his weapon tightened, and he looked at Byrne with a stern expression. "But that's not the point. You shouldn't be here. Your presence could jeopardise everything I'm trying to build."

Byrne met Lewis's gaze, a hint of defiance in his eyes. "And what exactly are you trying to build?" he inquired, his tone laced with curiosity and scepticism.