Chapter 54: Of Imbeciles and Titans

“Who should be our next target?” Ethan asked, thinking aloud as he sipped on his morning coffee.

“Mmm, what about the giant woman?” Rina offered, buttering her toast.

Zoe was serving them food and drinks. Her breasts were slightly saggy D-cups originally, but yesterday she got silicone implants, and now they are voluptuous F-cups. Her tan lines stretched tightly over her plumped-up breasts. Thanks to Julia’s healing essence, her wounds were already closed, and the stitches were removed.

“Bo from the Anti Kaiju Unit?”

“No. The one who is so muscular that she could make She-Hulk look like a fragile little girl.” She clarified.

“It’s Urszula, and no, I don’t think we should target her and her son, Julian,” Ethan replied, shaking his head.

“Why? I know she is jacked and all, but a surprise attack can work even on a Kaiju.”

“Too risky,” he answered, “Although Aritimi’s closest friends are high-ranking HSA members, most of them are only important on a local scale. But a few of them have a higher value: Urszula is a high-ranking employee at the Crypt, and Marvel is a high-ranking Space Force member. They are right below Aritimi in importance, which means that we should leave them alone until the end of this phase.”

“Okay, they are off-limits. Anybody else?”

As they talked, David and Robin walked through the door, carrying somebody who looked like a sleeping blonde girl.

“Good job,” Ethan gave them a thumbs-up. “Who did you guys catch this time?”

“Julian Björnström,” Robin revealed.

“What?!” Ethan’s jaw went slack. “How did you catch him? Are you sure Urszula didn’t follow you?”

“We caught him on the street when he came back from his girlfriend’s place,” David explained. “We just bumped into him by chance.”

“And Urszula?”

“I was eavesdropping on him when he was talking with her on his phone. As I heard, Urszula is in a meeting for the next few hours.” Robin continued.

“Damn ... they could at least give us one or two days to rest,” Zara muttered with a long yawn as she sank onto the bench.

“Hang in there, Zara,” Akemi said, trying to sound encouraging. “Just a few more days and the course is over. A week later, we’re at the exam. The end is near.”

“That sounded ominous,” Zara snorted. “But you’re sure it’s only a week?”

“I did the math,” Akemi nodded. “We still have to visit Xena, Freedom, Kaia, and Yaraviel at work. Plus a training day between each visit, so roughly seven days. Maybe eight, depending on whether Aritimi plans something between the exam and the last day.”

“At least we’ll have our New Year’s party as licensed hunters,” Zara said.

“Thanks for reminding me,” Akemi sighed. “We need to start thinking about holiday parties.”

“Hm. Halloween’s the closest, but it’ll be before the exam,” Zara said.

“Yeah, and it’s going to be overshadowed by Artemis’ hundredth birthday,” Akemi added. “We’ll probably end up celebrating with everyone at HQ.”

“But we can celebrate Thanksgiving together as licensed hunters,” Zara said.

“And after that, we can celebrate the coming of Santa Claus together!” Tünde chirped.

“And then Christmas, and then New Year’s Eve,” Titanilla followed.

“Girls,” Zara replied, “Santa comes on Christmas Eve.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Tünde chuckled. “We forgot that you guys here only get presents once in December.”

“What?” Zara raised an eyebrow. “Santa and Christmas are on two different days for you?”

“Yes,” Tünde nodded. “In Hungary, Santa Claus, or Father Winter, comes on December fifth. The next morning, kids wake up to gifts. If they were good, they get sweets in a little bag. If not, they get a golden birch switch.”

“And on Christmas Eve, ‘Little Jesus’ comes and gives presents to everyone,” Titanilla added.

“There’s no way you guys have Jesus give you a present on his birthday,” Zara blinked. “That’s kinda messed up.”

“Keep badmouthing our traditions, and the owl with the copper dick will come for you,” Tünde snickered.

“A bird with a metal dildo is your Krampus?” Zara laughed.

“No, that’s just a boogeyman,” Titanilla giggled.

“European folklore is so strange,” Zara said, shaking her head.

“Maybe you should look up some Yokai stories, then,” Akemi smirked.

“Good morning, pupils,” came Aritimi’s voice from behind them, appearing silently in the middle of the crowd, as always.

The pupils greeted her back.

“Before we go visit my friend Xena and her team in action, I want everyone to gather close,” Aritimi instructed.

They shuffled together behind her like a group of schoolchildren lining up before a field trip.

“Good. Just one more thing,” Aritimi said, turning to Xipil and Xan. “You two, I need your spells. Forcefield around the whole group. We’ll need it for a maximum of ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes? Easy,” Xipil said confidently. She and Xan clasped hands and began chanting in Latin. A bright green dome rippled outward from their feet, expanding until it sealed itself over the entire group like a protective bubble.

“Huh. Cozy,” Zara said, tapping the glowing barrier.

“Excellent job,” Aritimi praised. “Now we’re ready.”

A massive circular portal opened above them. The pupils looked up in alarm as it slowly descended like some kind of celestial guillotine, swallowing the dome and everyone inside.

Zara braced herself for the military camp she remembered from the last time she saw Xena at work, but instead...

They stood in the center of a goblin village, small wooden huts scattered everywhere, surrounded by a tall, pointed-log fence.

“What the hell?” Zara began.

Before she could finish, the goblins noticed them.

Hundreds, maybe thousands, of small green bodies immediately swarmed toward the forcefield, shrieking, waving crude spears and clubs, some dressed in scraps of hide and rugs, most of them stark naked.

The barrier shook violently as they slammed into it.

“Why did you bring us here?!” Zara shouted over the banging.

“Just wait and see,” Aritimi said with the smuggest smirk imaginable.

A thunderous boom answered her.

Part of the far wall exploded in a blast of burning splinters. A humanoid silhouette stepped through the flames, a woman clad in armor made of cooling magma, glowing fissures across her body, hair erupting upward into a blazing Spartan-style fire mohawk.

“Just in time,” Aritimi said proudly. “Xena is very precise.”

Welcome pressed her face against the forcefield, starry-eyed.

Xena sprinted through the village like a meteor, collapsing huts with kicks and fiery punches, leaving burning trails wherever she stepped.

A relatively large goblin charged her. Xena casually grabbed its neck, and its head rolled off as someone flicked it off a table.

“Cool!” Zara gasped.

Things escalated further as three more burning women stormed through the hole Xena created, torching any goblin foolish enough to stand their ground. The rest of the goblins panicked and scrambled for the settlement’s only gate.

Just as the goblins reached the gate, a loud “Yeehaw!” could be heard from the outside, and the gate exploded inward.

Zara expected more lava-girls. Instead, an army of cowgirls thundered in on the backs of various monsters: multiheaded horses, colorful horses, giant snakes, and various other creatures. One of them even got a Dire Grizzly Bear as a mount.

The riders were young, teens to early twenties, yet unmistakably part of the Winchester Herd. There were so many of them that it took Zara a moment to process.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. “Are those Dallas and Dakota’s grandkids!?”

“Yep,” Akemi said, equally stunned.

The cowgirls charged through the village like an avalanche, whooping and hollering while firing weapons grown from their hands.

Within minutes, the goblin shrieks faded into the crackling of burning wood, sizzling flesh, and the occasional celebratory “Yeehaw!” echoing across the settlement.

Xena finally approached, flames extinguishing as she returned to her normal, muscular form, completely naked.

“Ah,” she said with a nod, “I thought you were joking when you said you’d watch the mission from up close with your pupils, Timi.”

“Alright, Xipil, you can drop the barrier now,” Aritimi said.

The green dome popped like a soap bubble.

Lulu and her sisters had no idea what was going on.

Their mother, Coco, stayed behind to check a Metro Mimic nest before they’d leave, but it was more than half an hour ago. Now they were waiting in the clown car.

There was no emergency signal, so she must be safe, but something was still off.

“Ah, here she is,” Pippa, on the other side of the rows of seats, said as she saw a silhouette approaching.

“Finally,” Lulu sighed, but in the next moment, the window in front of Pippa exploded inward, then a ridiculously huge, muscular arm reached inside and yanked the screaming clown-girl out of the vehicle.

Lulu reached for the other door beside her, but somebody opened it from the outside. The next thing she saw was a swarm of tranquilizer darts flying into the car, aimed at her and her sisters.

“That was so cool!” Zara exclaimed as they arrived at Xena’s military-style camp.

“Yeah! You guys destroyed everything without getting in trouble for it,” Welcome beamed. “When I break things, I just look stupid ... but you all looked awesome.”

“Thanks, big girl,” Xena chuckled, giving the giantess a friendly pat on the knee, the highest part of her she could comfortably reach. “Welcome to the Purge Squad.”

“Oh! You want me to join?” Welcome gasped. “Can I ask my mom first?”

“Uh ... yeah,” Xena shrugged. “Go ahead.”

She gestured toward the three women behind her. “Anyway, meet my vice captains, my daughters: Aikaterini, Aella, and Andromeda.”

The magma armor coating the three burning women dissipated, revealing three identical naked Greek women with perfect synchronization in their posture and expressions.

“Look, girls, she’s the giantess I told you about,” Aikaterini said, pointing at Welcome.

“Hi, Aika!” Welcome waved enthusiastically.

“Three vice captains?” Aritimi arched a brow. “Isn’t that a bit much?”

“They’re triplets. I couldn’t just hand the title to the eldest, plus they’re all at the same level of capabilities. Thanks to me,” Xena added proudly.

“Huh! Looks like having just one baby at a time is rare among your friends,” Zara snickered, glancing from the Greek triplets to the entire army of cowgirls.

“It’s because multiple births are more common among augmented women,” Xena explained. “Of course, the Winchester family takes that to unusual extremes.”

“Indeed,” a voice chimed in as one of the Winchesters approached. “Just a few more generations, and the Winchesters will conquer the States.”

“There’s a chance,” Zara admitted, eyeing the massive number of Winchester descendants.

“Ah, there you are,” Xena said to the young Winchester. “You, your sisters, your cousins, and your second cousins did excellent work today. One hundred percent efficiency. No survivors.”

“Oh, stop, you’ll make me blush.”

“Girls,” Xena said, turning to the pupils, “this young man is Wichita Winchester, Wyoming’s son, and the leader of this whole Winchester team. The youngest generation of the family.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Wichita said smoothly, tipping his cowboy hat.

Zara stared at him. “You’re a boy?”

Wichita blinked politely.

To be fair, he didn’t look like one; he had the same soft facial features as the rest of the Winchesters, long braided golden hair, and even a modest, very real-looking pair of breasts.

“You’ve got the same hormone issue as Urszula’s son?” Freya asked.

“No, I’m on hormone therapy,” he said calmly.

“Oh! So you’re a trans woman,” Zara said.

“No,” he corrected gently, shaking his head. “My body struggled to accept the Warfare Warthog augmentation because I’m a man. Hormone therapy helps me use my augmentation more efficiently than most male HSA hunters.”

“Plus, he was already unmanly to begin with,” one of the nearby girls added. Her identical features and hair shade suggested she was his sister.

“Oh! Hi,” Zara waved at them. “You must be his sisters.”

“Yeah, we’re septuplets,” Wichita said. “These are Yoder, Ogden, Miami, Inverness, Newcastle, and Glenrock.”

The six girls introduced themselves in a practiced rhythm.

“Wait, you’re septuplets? One boy and six girls?” Welcome asked.

“It’s rare, but possible,” Wichita shrugged.

Zara continued. “Wait ... your initials spell out Wyoming.”

“Yep,” Wichita said proudly. “Our family loves patriotic naming themes. All Winchester siblings are named so their initials spell out their mother’s state.”

He pointed toward a group of seven icy-blonde girls. “Those are Alabama’s daughters: Auburn, Livingston, Andalusia, Birmingham, Abbeville, Mobile, and Athens.”

Then he gestured at a group of eight cowgirls with warm, babylights blonde hair. “And those eight belong to Nebraska: Norfolk, Elmwood, Beatrice, Red Cloud, Ashland, Scottsbluff, Kearney, and Alliance.”

“That’s ... honestly, I don’t know what to say,” Zara admitted, scratching her head. “How do they always end up with the exact number of kids needed to spell out the state name?”

“They had help from the research team,” he said casually. “Controlled fertility.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t just ask for fifty babies each time,” Zara snorted.

“Oh, they tried,” Wichita smiled back.

“Yeeaaaah!” Robin exclaimed as they drove around with the clown car. Thanks to its cartoonish powers, it could do moves that a normal car couldn’t. Like driving on walls, or shrinking if needed, so they could drive under other cars to hide.

David nodded. He couldn’t talk at the moment as he was sucking Coco’s tits while the clown woman rode his cock. Her daughters (except for Lulu) were sitting right next to David, waiting for their turns.

On his left, the other mind-controlled leaders were sitting: Inez, Lana, Julia, Naomi, Serena, Zoe, and Urszula.

“Oh, yes!” Robin turned back to David. “I found our next target.”

Paige Elsher, Gretchen’s daughter, strode near them on the sidewalk. Perfect target.

“Urszula, do your job,” David called.

“Wait. There’s a ton of onlookers here.” Robin stopped them, “We can’t just pick her up here in broad daylight.”

“Yeah,” he nodded with a grin, “we need a distraction.”