Demon Lord's Reincarnation

Once I heard that familiar name, it didn’t even take a second for a 1967 gray Shelby GT500 with black stripes to appear in my head. I could still vividly remember that film from Mr. Nick Cage but some older folks or movie enthusiasts would definitely bring up the much earlier one.

With that said, Mr. Alvarez and I shared one look before we became brothers in arms—cars, and he lost his mind when he discovered that I was the one who made Mr. Cuervo’s new custom ride.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Wait a fucking second! You really made that?!”

“Yep. With some help, of course.”

“FUUUU~~~ Do you have a shop like Quinn’s?”

“No, but we have the right tools and people for it.”

“That’s already better than hers!”

“Really?”

“Shit, if it’s Quinn or whatever the fuck those cueball fuckheads we’re talking about, it’s either keeping the “original” or pimping it out Mad Max Style! Her own ride wasn’t even keeping true to its original release! They can do custom work but they charge so fucking much!”

“Ah. I see…”

“Hmm? You don’t sound too interested.”

“No, no. I was just thinking that if you’re gonna hire me to make that Shelby into a lowrider, I’ll just find another car to—”

“Hold up! Kid, if my ride got turned to a lowrider, I’ll fucking shave my head and my beautiful mustache. I’m not interested in a lowrider right now but I’m more interested in your… style, so to speak.”

“I see, but… I believe I didn’t see any semblance of an “Eleanor” on your spot when you and your guys drove in. Is it at home?”

“Actually, it’s at Quinn’s… I left it there for a little upgrade.”

“Oh?”

“Yep. Wanna see pictures?”

“You still have your phone like me, huh—”

“Hah?”

“…”

Once Mr. Alvarez pulled out a polaroid picture from his suit, I didn’t know whether to bang my head on the counter or pull all my hair out because I didn’t assume he meant physical pictures. Hell, even pictures printed on photo paper were almost nonexistent but the motherfucker had something even older.

However, I just fucking lost it when “Eleanor” wasn’t actually an Eleanor, it was a fucking Ellen or an Elizabeth.

It wasn’t a fucking 1967 Shelby GT500 but a fucking 2014 Shelby GT500!

And even if it had the same color scheme, it was more than fucking decades apart!

“Mr. Alvarez…”

“Hmm?”

“You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“That’s a 2014 model… not a ’67…”

“Are you kidding me?! Where the fuck can I find a fucking ’67 model?! I’m fucking loaded but I can’t just throw money in the air and make it appear like magic! I’m just calling it Eleanor for nostalgia’s sake!”

“Alright, alright… I get it. Haaa… but this… this actually works in your favor.”

“Hmm? How?”

“But tell me first, what little upgrade did you get from Quinn?”

“Some engine-car thingy she sold me a while back. She said she’s gonna do something to it to remove that annoying whine. But what works for me?”

“From some unfortunate accident, we dented her car—”

“YOU FUCKING WHAT?! HOW ARE YOU STILL FUCKING ALIVE?! YOUR ASSHOLE SHOULD BE FUCKING YAY~ BIG RIGHT NOW!”

I shook my head as I chuckled, “I guess I got lucky. Anyway, I promised her I’d fix it and since I’ll machine her a new body for her car, I could do the same for you.”

“Wait a sec. There’s nothing wrong with the body of my car.”

“Do you want to have a ’67 or not?”

“What do you— Oh!”

“Yep. While Quinn’s working on your engine, I could make a custom body for your 2014 model to look like the ’67 model. It wouldn’t be the exact same but really~ fucking close to it. Just imagine it a little wider ’67 with suave-looking flares from the side.”

“Looking like a ’67 but still had the features of the 2014, right?”

“Exactly.”

At this point, Mr. Alvarez looked exactly like Mr. Cuervo the first time I showed him his lowrider but we were still deciding the specifics of his build. Granted it was similar to just buying some replacement body kits but custom work like this—especially if there would be personal touches from the owner and the people building it—in the old world, it would’ve cost more than a pretty penny.

In some way, the two of us found a way to pass the time and one by one, each of the family heads arrived.

The first one to follow after us were Mauro and Elsa, followed by Castro who was now the head of the Castillo Family, in casual conversation with Sal and Edith. Mary and Brian on the other hand were a little busy critiquing the decor but they did acknowledge everyone’s presence by dropping in and out of conversations.

It’s just that the only ones who fully joined in the conversation between me and Mr. Alvarez were Quinn and Mauro. Everyone else had their own conversation going on but once I looked around to Benjie’s spot, he was actually in some sort of conversation with Kaley.

I was this fucking close to going between the two but Quinn held my shoulder and whispered, “Trust your wife a bit more, yeah? She’s not an idiot.”

“I trust my wife but I don’t trust Benjie, conversation over.”

I tried to brush her arm off but Mauro also held me down by putting his hand over my other shoulder.

“Chill, bro. I don’t like the guy either but he’s not stupid. He’s a fucking wilding but he follows our rules to the dot. No one’s touching our wives without reason or provocation and just to add this bit, it’s not his style. He’d rather fight you right now but I’ll opt to go first. I hate other people fighting my battles for me.”

“…”

Mr. Alvarez joked, “Honestly, I’m more afraid of your wife.”

I eventually sat back down but for the life of me, I don’t know what came into Kaley’s head by trying to talk to the guy that tried to kill me multiple times by using yesterday night’s games as an excuse, because if I remember correctly, she’d kill for me as much as I would kill for her.

She even almost shot Arthur from back home after that certain incident and now I’m wondering why she looked like she wanted to know about that dog— mutt— person.

After a few more uncomfortable minutes of trying to talk to the three while side-eyeing Kaley and Benjie, the motherfucking schmuck who arranged this meeting finally revealed himself.

‘You gotta be kidding me.’

Mr. Cuervo was actually already on the other side of the door where the refreshments were placed and he was just casually waiting for everyone to arrive. He beckoned us over after making Roxanne and Melina open the door, and right behind him were Zack and Cody.

This time, the two were wearing formal attire and they were definitely custom-made for their sizes.

With that said, there was a round table in the middle of the room we were in and there were seven chairs—one of which was where Mr. Cuervo was already seated, though there were extra seats for the plus ones or plus twos located further back.

I for sure thought that the fucking wait was over but there was an issue with the seating arrangements—the one where the head of the de Leon Family was supposed to sit, and Quinn and Mauro were tightly gripping each side of the chair in question.

“Didn’t you marry into the Rivas Family? Fucking let go! This is my seat!”

“I can be married to the Rivas Family and still lead my own!”

“That’s too much work! Just give the seat to me already and stand behind Sal! Your wife is also there, get comfy!”

“Hah! Then why don’t you fucking stand behind the head of the Ishiyama Family because you’ve been spending a whole lot of time with them!”

“You’re gonna go that route?! D’you want me to reveal every bitch—”

“Enough,” Sal said just loud enough for everyone to hear but it definitely made the two shut their traps.

“…”

“…”

Mr. Alvarez added, “No, no. Continue. If anything, it’s on brand with the Lion Family!”

Mr. Cuervo shook his head, “Don’t start.”

“What? I’m just stating the obvious.”

“I already said enough. My sleep schedule is already ruined as is. We should finish this as fast as possible. Quinn. Please, just for this moment, humor me and let the boy take his seat.”

“I’m not a boy—”

“To my eyes, you still are.”

Quinn let out a chuckle as she sat next to Kaley and Edith, “Maybe this is for the best. Kidding. I’ll let off, for now.”

The three older folks had already defused the situation but in a sense, like me and Castro, Mauro was somewhat of a newer head. Sure, he was probably leading their family for a while but our ages weren’t that far from each other.

“Let’s start, shall we?” Mr. Cuervo said after clearing his throat.