A cannon-fodder-type Black Soul... or rather, the birth of a half-finished Black Soul would not even be fully recorded, much less alert Boss Luo, who stood at the top of the Shop's food chain.
Because he had been transformed from 0.1 grams of the Source of Different Bodies extracted from John himself, he naturally carried John's aura—in fact, Pengge the Eighth and John could now be regarded as a special whole.
"Black Souls aren't forbidden from devouring one another. Right now, you're like a walking, free buffet. Any Black Soul could easily eat you. So if you're not confident you can evade the covetous gazes of every Black Soul, the only way is to never leave my side. Understand, Eighth~?"
"I understand, Master..."
Thus, Pengge the Eighth officially began his career as a cannon-fodder Black Soul Envoy—from an ordinary human to an existence that was, to some extent, immortal. He had also achieved the dream he once held.
The next morning, when Rosewether discovered that there was an extra mouse in the exorcist agency, her reaction was rather extreme. Only then did little Taina realize that Sister Rosewether seemed to have an innate hatred of mice.
After a bout of chaos, John finished breakfast and elegantly wiped his lips. Only then did he pick up his spoon and tap it against his cup. "All right, ladies. We should be leaving."
"John, do we have a commission today?" Taina asked instinctively... There clearly hadn't been any clients seeking help yesterday.
Rosewether also cast him a puzzled look.
John smiled. "We indeed don't have a commission today. We're going out for a report."
"A report..."
John pulled out an offer. Printed on it was a symbol no American could possibly fail to recognize: the Shield Bureau.
More precisely, the New Shield Bureau.