Grell X Undertaker Novels & Stories

“But I’m going to die today. Why don’t I pay you a little more? Please come here. It won’t take you much time.” Since he had already said this, I could not be greedy anymore. I would just ask him to collect my body. “I only have one simple request. After I die, please send me to the crematorium, okay? I’ve just cut my wrists, so I won’t have time to hire another undertaker.” I cast aside my pride and begged the undertaker to fulfill my request. My heart was racing. I was really worried that he would say no. After a moment of silence, the undertaker seemed to have finally caught the crux of the situation. He instinctively asked, “You’re the one dying?”

asked the female player as she tossed a card on the center of the table. “Where did boss go?” uttered Fakey as he downed a bottle of beer beside him. “I saw him go out with his bitch just now,” noted the male player as he sucked on a cigarette. “To meet the clients.” Smoke came out of his mouth as he exhaled. He looked like he was in his mid-fifties. He had shoulder-length black hair with a physique as large as Ronald’s. Seeing him made Gray think of another character. He was a famous professional wrestler aliased as Undertaker.

------ Rank 1000 : Creed Gryffon Origin : Clanless Combat Style : Unregistered Description : Batch-43, Cadet of the Internatory Glitch Armed Services. A reckless 17 years old Glitch hunter who blatantly challenged and fought the envoy of the Alliance itself and stood his ground. The alliance considered him to be an esteemed donor of a premium Soul Armas. His most recognizable feat is the unrestrained slaughter of more than 5000 ghoul on the Pandemonium all by himself using unknown twin blade proficiency. Title : The Ghoul Reaper

The other Blood Reapers were naturally wary of the threat, while the leader asked calmly, "Sir, were you the one who decimated hundreds of us, even taking away their bodies?" "Yes," Caleb replied calmly. The leader bowed his head in acknowledgment and asked, "Allow me to apologize for whatever offense my comrades have caused you. May I have the pleasure of your name?" "Death, of the Undertakers." Caleb replied quietly. Confused, the Blood Reapers' leader turned toward his crew, but they all shook their heads too. Still, he bowed his head again. "Well, it's unsurprising that you gathered the bodies as an Undertaker! It will be their honor to have died by your hand!"

"So, you're Lugh Frankton, the chief of Mystic Sky Guild? Finally showing up, I see… And here I thought you'd be fleeing after hearing that I'm coming for you." Frank simply smirked. "Calm down. Don't you have to pay damages to the hospital for your vandalism?" "What?" The undertaker was left confused, just like Janice and Zark. They had no idea why he said something with such poor timing! However, the undertaker was smarter and quickly caught on. "So you're saying you'd definitely win and could kill me in an instant? And you wouldn't find out where I'm from if I'm dead?"

‘‘Undertaker, undertaker, undertaker,’’ they chorused loudly as I walked towards my seat with my head facing down. Everyone knew who undertaker was. It wasn’t a good name either. Undertaker was the world’s undisputed wrestling champion for years. He wore dark clothes and came to stage to fight with a coffin. He would come with a coffin wearing dark clothes with red eyes and step out, as if he was coming from the dead.

Inside, the air is thick with the smell of spilled ale, wet wool, and the faint copper tang of old blood. The bounty hunter sits alone at a corner table. Broad shoulders under a travel-worn cloak the color of dried blood. A single iron ring on his left hand—simple, unadorned, but etched with a faint halo sigil that glows dimly when he flexes his fingers. His name is Garrick Vane. Once a templar of the Eastern Order. Now something else. Something that still carries the Church’s coin and the Church’s warrants.