The first day I stepped out of the apartment after stabilizing the Third Ring felt different.
Not because the Lust Ring had changed.
The Lust Ring never changed.
It was still a screaming maze of neon signs, vibrating basslines, drunken demons stumbling out of bars, flickering holograms of dancing silhouettes, and the constant emotional buzz that the Ring saturated into the air like perfume.
No the city hadn't changed.
I had.
The Rings inside me were calmer, more obedient.
The new blade technique rested under my skin like a coiled thought.
And for the first time since arriving in this realm, my mind wasn't drowning in noise.
Alastor hummed in the back of my consciousness.
"Good. You're finally walking like someone with a spine. Try not to get stabbed today."
I'll do my best.
He laughed.
"That's what every corpse in this Ring said five minutes before dying."
I rolled my eyes and kept moving.
I needed information.
Not rumors real data.
Territories, politics, gangs, safe paths, dangerous paths… anything that would help me choose a place to anchor myself.
I didn't know the city yet, and that had to change.
I was about to turn toward the central market when
BAM.
Someone slammed into me shoulder-first.
"OI! Watch where you're"
The voice stopped.
The demon who hit me froze mid-sentence, staring up at me through neon-blue goggles.
He was short, wiry, sharp-eyed.
He wore a patched leather vest full of wires and glowing circuits, like someone tried to build a cyberpunk gremlin and gave up halfway.
He squinted.
"…oh. You're not from here."
I blinked.
…Is it that obvious?
"Yes."
He jabbed a metal-tipped finger toward my chest.
"You stand straight. People who live here don't stand straight. They slump like depressed shrimp."
Alastor snorted.
"I like him."
I don't.
The demon ignored us both.
"New face. No territory mark. No club scent. No affiliation brand. No contract smoke."
He tilted his head.
"You're either running from something… or you're stupid."
"Or dangerous," Alastor suggested helpfully.
The demon narrowed his eyes.
"Come with me."
…Why?
"Because if someone else notices you first, you'll end up sold, eaten, seduced, or recruited. In that order."
He didn't wait for an answer.
He just grabbed my wrist and pulled me into a narrow side alley glowing with pink and violet light.
I let him.
Alastor sighed.
"At least you attract interesting problems."
The Tech Rat
The alley was quieter.
Not silent nothing in Lust Ring was ever silent
but quieter.
The demon adjusted his goggles, and they flickered to life, scanning me top to bottom.
"Huh… weird. No registration frequency. No pheromone tag. No power signature I recognize."
He stepped back with exaggerated dramatic flair.
"…Who the hell are you?"
Just Malerion, I said.
"That's a noise, not an answer."
Alastor hummed proudly.
"He's right."
The demon tapped his chest.
"Name's Quill. Tech broker. Information dealer. Professional survivor. If something has wires, I've probably stolen it."
I blinked.
…Good for you?
Quill squinted.
"You talk weird."
You hit people weird.
He snorted.
"Fair."
He crossed his arms.
"So? What do you want?"
Information.
Quill grinned.
"Good. Information has a price."
I reached into my coat and pulled out a small leather pouch.
It jingled.
Quill froze.
"…Is that—"
He snatched the pouch, opened it, and his jaw fell open.
"Holy SHIT, you're paying in Gleams?"
"Was I supposed to pay with compliments?" I asked.
Alastor chuckled softly in my head.
"Money makes the world burn smoother."
Quill brightened instantly.
"You want information? I am now your best friend. Ask me anything. Anything. I will even pretend to respect you. For the right price."
Foundations
I cut straight to the point.
"What does it take to build a group here?"
Quill stared.
Then stared harder.
Then stared EVEN harder.
Finally:
"HAHAHAHA HOLY FUCK!"
He doubled over laughing, slapping the wall for balance.
"You? Build a group? HERE? In the LUST RING? Oh my fucking Satan that's adorable."
Alastor whispered like a delighted snake:
"He underestimates you. How charming."
I waited.
Quill eventually wiped tears from his eyes.
"You're serious. Of course you're serious. You're standing straight."
I frowned.
What does that have to do with anything?
"People who stand straight always think they're destined for greatness. Or therapy. Usually both."
He leaned closer.
"You really wanna build something here?"
Yes.
Quill exhaled slowly.
"…Fine. Three rules."
He held up three fingers.
1. Territory.
"You need a space no one wants.
Something disgusting.
Abandoned.
Cursed.
If nobody wants it, nobody fights you for it."
2. People.
"You gather demons who have NOTHING.
Nothing to trade.
Nothing to lose.
No reputation.
No protection."
3. A secret.
"You need something that makes people follow you.
Something they can't explain.
Or predict."
Then he looked me dead in the eye.
"And you? You have that vibe."
…'Vibe'?
"You look like someone who has seen God and told Him to fuck off," Quill said flatly.
"So yes. You have a secret."
Quill tossed me a small metal cube.
I caught it.
"What's this?"
"A map," Quill said. "Of every abandoned sector in Lust Ring. Not for free."
I paid.
"Oh, you paid PLENTY. That's why I'm giving you the good map. The illegal one."
He smirked.
"And one more thing."
What?
"Don't die. Investors hate that."
A Moment Alone
When Quill disappeared into the neon currents of the street, I finally let myself breathe.
I stared at the map cube in my hand.
Alastor's voice drifted through me, surprisingly calm.
"Well? What do you think?"
I closed my fingers around the cube.
…I think I can do this.
"And I think," Alastor said,
"you might even enjoy it."
I looked out at the glowing skyline.
At the chaos.
The corruption.
The emotion-filled air.
I feel…
I searched for the right word.
…focused.
Alastor purred.
"Good. Because now, boy… you begin."