Chapter 177: The Target
When Charles pushed the door open and stepped inside, the atmosphere in the small bar felt… tense.
Ellen stood at the counter with the two men who had just arrived. All three wore serious expressions, as if they had just discussed something heavy.
Charles gave them a brief glance but didn't approach. Instead, he quietly returned to his usual seat.
The bar's windows were unusually small. Even in broad daylight, artificial lighting was needed—otherwise, the whole place felt dim and oppressive.
Another odd detail—
Despite having two narrow windows, the seats near them were almost never occupied. Instead, people preferred sitting with their backs against solid walls.
"These hunters… really lack a sense of security."
After observing for several days, Charles had come to that conclusion. It also gave him a rough understanding of how precarious life was for hunters in this world.
Letting his thoughts wander, he picked up the notebook and pen Ellen had given him and began sketching idly across the page.
At the same time, he kept his ears open, catching fragments of the conversation at the counter.
They seemed to be talking about demons.
But not for long.
Soon, Ellen raised her voice and called upstairs.
Running a bar meant staying up until late into the night—so daytime was for catching up on sleep. Jo was currently resting upstairs.
But clearly, they needed a "server" right now.
Before long, Jo came down from the second floor—really more of a loft—still looking half-asleep.
Meanwhile, Arthur, who had fallen asleep on the pool table, was being shaken awake… unsuccessfully. After working all night, he remained completely unresponsive.
As Charles continued quietly listening—
Someone suddenly sat down across from him.
He looked up.
The tall young man with slightly curly hair—the one from earlier—was now seated opposite him.
"The owner said that Arthur might be able to help us," the man said, shrugging with mild frustration. "But no matter how we try, we can't wake him."
Then he studied Charles with curiosity.
"You new around here?"
Charles nodded.
"I like Bruce Lee," the man added with a friendly smile. Then he extended his hand.
"Sam. Sam Winchester."
"Charles," he replied, reaching out to shake it.
Ever since learning that a person's true name carried a certain mysterious power, Charles had made a firm decision—
He would never reveal his real name to anyone again.
So even here, he used "Charles."
…
As their hands clasped across the table, an invisible force stirred.
At the same time, a line of text drifted across Charles's vision—
***
[Extraction failed. You cannot touch the fate of a sealed target.]
***
Sealed?
Charles froze for a split second.
"What's wrong?" Sam tilted his head, puzzled by the lack of response.
"Nothing." Charles snapped back to himself and quickly released his grip. "Your name just… sounds familiar."
"Winchester Model 1887," Sam said with a helpless shrug. "A lot of people say that. Same name as the shotgun."
Then, without waiting, his expression grew serious. Folding his hands on the table, he leaned forward slightly.
"Have you ever thought about why strange things happen in places like this?"
"Every day." Leaning back in his chair, Charles raised a brow. "Still can't figure it out."
"Fair enough." Sam shrugged, finally letting the topic drop.
He turned to look at his brother—
Only to find him chatting up the young woman who had just come down from upstairs.
Sam sighed.
Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a business card and placed it on the table, sliding it toward Charles.
"This might help. If you notice anything unusual… contact us."
Charles nodded in thanks.
Sam stood, then headed toward Arthur—who had finally been woken up by Ellen.
Charles watched him go.
Then glanced toward the other Winchester—who now seemed to have hit a wall in his conversation.
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
If I remember correctly…
This should be the world of *Supernatural*.
In fact, it was thanks to these two brothers that he recognized it at all.
His memory of the show wasn't particularly detailed—
Just that it was long, chaotic… and centered around two brothers whose bond went far beyond ordinary sibling relationships.
But combining those fragments with everything he had seen in the bar these past few days—
He now had a rough understanding of this world.
On the surface, it looked just like the modern world he remembered.
But beneath it…
Lurked countless hidden mysteries.
Angels and demons from Western lore.
Vampires. Werewolves. Ghosts.
Even gods and monsters from Norse and Greek mythology.
"The most important thing is…"
Charles murmured under his breath, eyes narrowing slightly.
"This world… actually has God."
If one were to speak of ultimate truth—
What could be more real than God?
But where would he even begin to look?
"If I recall… everything the protagonists experience gets written into a series of books…" he muttered. "So—find the author? But wasn't he some kind of prophet, not God? And protected by an angel…"
As he thought, his gaze drifted back to the two Winchesters.
Clearly—
With limited information and resources, the best approach was to keep an eye on these two "protagonists" who had practically delivered themselves to him… and follow the trail from there.
After all—
They would eventually meet God.
"And besides…" Charles murmured softly,
"Who exactly is capable of sealing their fate?"
In the end—
His course of action became clear.
Of course, even if he found that answer, it didn't mean he could win against it.
But at the very least—
Having a target… was always the first step.
***