The roar in Felix's eyes died down, replaced by a softer, triumphant ding that resonated through his skull. As the neon-pink smoke of the interface cleared, he saw it.
[PULL COMPLETE!]
[RARITY: RARE (RANK: R)]
[ITEM: THE EMPTY CHAIR CONTRACT]
Felix let out a soft giggle, his shoulders shaking as he stared at the shimmering paper materializing in his palm. It was a Rare! Against a ninety-six percent chance of getting garbage, he had pulled a weapon of pure gold.
The gambler's high hit him like a freight train, a surge of electric adrenaline that made his cracked skin hum. He felt like he could run a marathon, like he could outtalk the Devil himself.
"I won," he whispered, the words clicking against his teeth.
"Hey! Doll-face! You dead back there?" Barnaby's voice barked from the front of the shop.
The high was instantly dampened by the splash of reality, which was particularly cold. Panic flared for a split second as Felix scrambled, shoving the paper deep into the pocket of his worn trousers. He grabbed the rag and began scrubbing through a line of miscellaneous junk.
As he wiped, his mind was a whirlwind of fire and gold. He focused on the remaining text.
[DESCRIPTION: A deceptively plain, shimmering slip of vellum paper that appears blank. By obtaining a voluntary signatur — regardless of the pretext — the signer unwittingly cedes a seat of Influence to the User. Once signed, the signer is bound to a debt of favor or otherwise dictation to a single action.
[WARNING: The contract remains void and non-functional until ink meets paper. If the parchment is destroyed before a signature is obtained, the investment is lost.]
The 0 Souls balance in his vision didn't even bother him as much anymore. For now, if everything went according to plan, he'd be rich in no time.
His plan so far came from a common, hense he named his strategy the Loss leader. For a brief summary, his main concern was to attract costumers. First, he began to think. I need more info.
And for the next few hours — 4 to be exact from a clock on the wall — he'd polish what felt like everything, hoping that a consumer would come though the door. While waiting, he noticed something.
Every time his rag passed over a piece of inventory, he felt a sort of tug. Most of the shop was garbage that wasn't worth the effort to steal, but then, his hand brushed against a tarnished silver locket buried under a pile of sunglasses. His stomach did a sudden, violent flip as a intense spike of unadulterated want.
He paused, holding the locket. It didn't look like much, but the wave of greed it emitted was a warm, pulsing heat that made his fingers itch to tuck it away. Looking at a nearby gold-plated watch — something that looked expensive, he noticed the wave of greed slowly disappearing.
Loss leader, he reminded himself, overpowering his wave of subconscious desire with his strict mind and forcing his hand to place the locket back on the shelf in a prominent position. Almost immediately after, he was forced to hold his head in pain. It seemed that as a consequence for suppressing his nature was creating a migraine.
Just as he finished polishing the last of everything, the front door chime cut through the silence of the shop, followed by the heavy boots.
Felix didn't move from the shadows of the aisle. He stayed low, peering through the gap in the velvet curtains. From the back, he watched a langy demon in a tattered trench coat stomp toward the counter. The demon's skin was a sickly, bruised purple, and his breathing came in rough, labored huffs.
The brute slammed a couple of bills onto the Barnaby's counter. "You already know why I'm here." His voice sounded deep and husky. He might have also been out of breathe.
The first thing that came to mind was the hypothesis that he was a smoker. Sure enough, after grabbing the cash on the counter, Barnaby went over the table and gave the demon a pack of cigarettes. Without any other words, the demon had left. With the quick interaction, Felix had walked up to Barnaby.
"I'm guessing he's a usual for you?" He asked. The Imp nodded. "As you can see, he's an easy one. Don't think they'll all be like that." He spread his arms out, appearing to present his shop with pride. "You're lucky. This place doesn't get much business so you probably won't have to do anything crazy."
Turning his head for a second, Felix's tongue made a click sound before turning around to face Barnaby, this time with a weird expression. "Why do you seem contempt with this? No offence but I get the feeling you don't care about your business"
Looking at Felix, Barnaby's yellow eyes narrowed. "And you're exactly right. Look around doll-face, all of this is shit I've just had. Hell, I'd bet some of them haven't worked since the day they fell down."
As he stuck out his hand to place on Barnaby's shoulder, he pulled back when he saw Felix quickly straighten his back and appear more than what he was. He sighed
"Here's some advice. In Hell, everyone wants everything they think they deserve. That means they want the power, the souls, and a seat at the table. And they'll do everything they can to get to tha point, even if it means abandoning any remaining dignity or morals they have. But they never know this; the higher you climb, the easier it is for the wind to knock you off. You look young, doll-face. You're probably thinking of your best life—"
He wasn't wrong.
"—Give it a few decades. You'll realize sometimes the most valuable thing in this world is being the guy that makes it." Felix repeated quietly, then spoke up, the disappointment clear in his voice. "That sounds like a very slow way to die." Somehow, this gave Barnaby a small chuckle.
"Maybe," he muttered. "But I'm still here, ain't I? Which is more than I can say for most. Even sinners." 'Even sinner?' Felix knew that there was likely a difference in the social hierarchy between Imps and sinners, but what Barnaby said sounded different from that. It also seemed that dying was still possible I'm hell.
Good to know.
Before he could ask why there was a distinction between the two, Baraby spoke out. "Now, quit gawking and find something to do. The back alley needs a sweep or something. There's a broom in the closet behind the closet. Your left."
Still occupied by this thoughts, he went around the counter. His mind was racing. Barnaby's philosophy wasn't something new to Felix, but he didn't enjoy acknowledging it. It was a worldview that threatened everything Felix believed and one he could never accept.
It was also a hindersnce in his plan. However, he was quick to come up with coverage — this time with better contingencies that wouldn't be shaken by a lifestyle.
If he couldn't make Barnaby greedy for souls, he'd just have to make the shop so successful that the old Imp didn't have a choice but to grow. That was one of the first steps.
Outside and with a broom and detached dustpan, he had just begun sweeping the piles of dust mixed with strong chemicals and blood before he heard a unique ding.
Hm?
For some strange reason, hechecked his 'system'
[UPDATE: DUE TO UNFORESEEN EVENTS, THE REMAINING DURATION FOR 'limited-time event' HAS BEEN RECALIBRATED.]
. . .What?
[TIME REMAINING: 14 DAYS -> 7 DAYS]