Life isn’t so Simple Anymore!

Namgo · Oct 22, 2023

Ethan, a man in his twenties, wore the heavy cloak of lethargy like a second skin. If you were to inquire about his life, he'd likely offer excuses like "between jobs" or "taking a mental health break." However, the reality of his life was far less forgiving. He had dedicated the better part of his life to a dimly lit room, where the glow of computer screens coasted him through life. In this wonderful escape, he found solace, while in the real world, he existed as a specter – jobless, friendless, and still residing with his mother, whose hope of him becoming a productive member of society had long waned.

It wasn't his fault that those companies weren't replying back to him. He filled out online job applications every other day. All of them email back that they are going with other applicants at this time or don't respond back at all. Ethan refused to take a soul-sucking job as a laborer, retail worker, or customer service rep. His life was already being drained. He didn't need the aid of other people to help drag him into a further hell.

His room had an oppressive stench that would hit anyone who entered it like a grenade. The curtains were drawn, allowing only feeble rays of light to penetrate the gamer cave. Discarded food containers littered the floor, their contents long spoiled. Piles of dirty laundry created uneven terrain, and he navigated through it with a resigned familiarity. The computer desk was a mess of empty energy drinks and sodas. The keyboard bore the marks of countless spilled drinks and grease from delivered fast food. He sighed, a mixture of repulsion and self-loathing welling up within him as he settled in for another satisfying day in his gamer's den.

Ethan's gaze shifted from the computer screen to the reflection in the monitor. His once-bright eyes were now dull and haggard, framed by dark circles as a result of a horrible sleep schedule. His hair, once a long time ago, was neatly combed. Nowadays, it was hung in unkempt tangles around his face. He couldn't help but feel a wave of disgust wash over him as he confronted the reality of who he truly was. The reflection served as a harsh reminder of the repulsiveness of his current existence. Ethan promptly turned down the brightness of his three monitors.

The room was filled with the soft hum of the computer, his only companion in the otherwise messy space. As he started up a game, Ethan's gaze wandered from the screen to the keyboard in front of him. He thought back to all the friends he made in college and high school. Those bonds he failed to capitalize on as friendships required both sides to make an effort to maintain a bond. He just didn't bother and hoped they would reach out to him instead. Waiting, waiting, and more waiting until they forgot all about him. Ethan learned that if you wanted friends, you had to put in the effort to make friends. Friends wouldn't just come to you. Neither would a girlfriend just come to you. Ethan sighed as he got into a game. What was the point of thinking these depressing thoughts when he could be kicking the ass of some losers online!?

The dimly lit room was filled with the glow of multiple screens, casting a nice ambiance on the disheveled figure hunched over a keyboard. Ethan, known as "GamingGod69420" in the gaming world, was in the midst of a heated forum discussion. His fingers danced across the keyboard as he typed furiously, his toxic words spewing like venom.

"YOU GUYS FUCKING SUCK ASS!" Ethan shouted at both his teammates and the enemy team. Ethan's comment was like a digital grenade, exploding into a flurry of responses from other forum members.

"Yeah, I'm sucking your mother's ass. What about it?" Breadwhatwhat, responded in a leveled tone.

"You sound like you like sucking farts out of old women. I'm not surprised, koomer." Ethan laughed.

A vote to kick GamingGod69420 started up. "Why don't we help this guy settle down? Go touch some grass. Get some fresh air?" UnlimitedSwords said in a friendly manner over the mic.

"YOU FUCKING PIECES OF SHIT! I'M BETTER THAN ALL OF YOU! YOU ALL ARE LESSER THAN ME! YOU'RE JEALOUS!" Ethan ranted.

"Yeah, he sounds like he could use a nap right about now. You know how children get without their nappies. Have fun, kiddo." DevilPancake laughed.

Ethan was unceremoniously ejected from the virtual lobby, and he took a deep breath of air as he reached below his gaming set-up. Grabbing a bag of chips and opening a warm carbonated drink, he got in a more comfortable position in his gaming chair. The greasy residue from previous snacks smeared against the fabric, but he paid it no mind. As he mindlessly consumed junk food while staring at the screen, a sense of emptiness welled up inside of him even as he was laughing and enjoying a funny video by his favorite content creators. At least when he laughed or raged, he was able to feel something.

Each day followed the same monotonous loop. Ethan woke up late, logged into his favorite games, and lost himself in the virtual world. Hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, months turned into years, and yet, there was no sense of enjoyment. He's been doing this since he was a small child. The victories and achievements in the digital realm felt hollow, devoid of meaning. He couldn't escape the feeling that his life had become an endless cycle of pointlessness, a never-ending loop of temporary satisfaction.

As the sun set outside his window, Ethan sat in the dimly lit room, surrounded by the remnants of his day. The hours had slipped away as they always did. He wondered what things would be like if he was an actual productive member of society. Friends, a decent job, and healthy hobbies. But that was what dreams were for. No point thinking about that stuff while he was awake. It wasn't like he was going to go outside and actually change his current lifestyle. As empty and hollow as it was. It was safe and comforting. There were little to no surprises that would shatter this current lifestyle of his. Unless his mom died or something. Then he was shit out of luck. He'd be forced to become a productive member of society, become homeless, or end it all. Whichever was easier. He wasn't sure if his mom had life insurance and he was on that life insurance.

One bright morning, the piercing sound of his mother's voice rang loud enough that it cut through his gaming headphones. "Ethan, rise and shine! I need you to make a quick trip to the store and pick up some stuff for me!"

Ethan's groans and mumbled complaints permeated the air as he dragged himself away from the computer. The list and the debt card left on the kitchen table by his mother awaited him. He grabbed the list and muttered resentfully, "Why can't she handle this herself? I've got better things to do."

Although he protested inwardly, Ethan couldn't conjure a valid excuse to evade this mundane task. He sighed heavily, donned a set of wrinkled clothes, and disregarded any attempt to make himself appear presentable. His hair was an unruly mess, and he sported a patchy beard. It wasn't like he knew anyone. Why should he bother to make himself look good or decent? He was going to be in and out of the store anyway.

The neighborhood buzzed with activity, a stark contrast to Ethan's isolated existence. Couples walked hand in hand, parents guided strollers, and busy office jockeys rushed to their workplaces. Their purposeful lives stood in stark juxtaposition to Ethan's aimlessness, serving as an annoying reminder of his current life. Entering the store, the fluorescent lights hummed with a sterile, artificial glow. Endless rows of groceries and household goods stretched out before him. Ethan navigated the aisles with a mechanical efficiency borne from repetition. His mother's shopping list was his compass, but his thoughts strayed to the music playing in his headphones. He jammed out with his head moving from side to side because of the catchy beat while plopping groceries in his cart.

At last, he reached the checkout counter, his cart laden with the requested items. The cashier, a young woman with a welcoming smile, scanned each item with practiced precision. She tried to talk to him with some small talk, but he shook his head. She got right back to scanning his items without another word, and Ethan was grateful she could take a hint.

Exiting the store, bearing the weight of grocery bags, Ethan couldn't help but be annoyed that he didn't have his driver's license or a car to drive around in. He put off getting his license at the age of sixteen because he was a lazy son of a bitch. But he never actually got around to actually getting it. Now he was in his mid-twenties without a license, having to walk or bus around for transportation. If he had the chance to go back to a younger version of himself, he'd kick his lazy ass and slap his mom for enabling his behavior. As much as he loved her for allowing him to rot, he also despised her for it.

Ethan struggled his way back home with the bags of groceries weighing him down. His thoughts drifted to the nothingness as the lyrics and the beat of his songs took over his brain functions. His arms shook from the weight of the grocery bags, and the lack of any physical activity except for one caught up to him. But as he turned a corner onto a quiet street, his gaze fell upon a sight that woke up both of his heads in an instant.

There, in the fading light of day, stood a woman who seemed to defy the very laws of attraction. Her emerald-green hair cascaded like a waterfall of silk, framing a face that could only be described as too beautiful. Her glasses gleamed with an enigmatic allure, and her slender figure exuded a magnetism that drew Ethan's eyes like a moth to a flame.

His heart raced, and his steps faltered as he struggled to process the sight before him. As he was being charmed by the woman's otherworldly appearance. He had tripped over nothing in his captivated state. As Ethan tried to get back to his feet, he couldn't help but notice the woman was now standing above him. A soft, melodious giggle escaped her lips as her green eyes locked onto his. It was a sound that sent shivers down his spine and brightened his soul.

He felt like a deer caught in the headlights, his heart pounding in his chest. His internal thoughts raced in a frantic, jumbled mess of self-doubt and disbelief. Why would someone like her, an absolute goddess and top-tier human, take notice of him? He was nothing more than a complete loser with no job, prospects, or accomplishments to his name. The stark contrast between his own inadequacies and her undeniable radiance left him in a state of sheer panic as she looked down on him. What the hell was happening? Was he dreaming right now? The ache in his arms from carrying the grocery bags told another story. But why else would a 10/10 like this come approaching an utter failure of the game of life like him? His tongue felt heavy in his mouth.

Then, she reached him, standing mere inches away, her emerald eyes fixed on his with an intensity that sent a shiver of fright, excitement, and panic down his spine. She smiled, a smile that could melt the iciest of hearts, and Ethan's world seemed to narrow down to that singular moment. He must have somehow stumbled into another world if a woman as beautiful as this was willing to smile at a bug like him… Maybe on the way here, he got hit by a truck? The death had to be instant. He must have barely felt a thing. Some deaths were like that.

The setting sun bathed them in a warm, golden glow, casting elongated shadows that danced around them. The soft breeze carried with it the faint scent of blooming flowers, a stark contrast to the chaos that swirled within Ethan's mind. Their proximity allowed Ethan to notice the subtle details that made this woman even more enchanting. A single strand of hair had escaped her elegant updo, framing her face in a way that seemed almost deliberate. Her skin had a flawless porcelain quality, and her lips, painted a shade of crimson, beckoned like a forbidden fruit.

"I—I'm sorry," Ethan stammered, his voice barely more than a whisper. He could feel his face flushing, his cheeks warming as embarrassment washed over him.

The woman's laughter was like a sweet melody, filling the air with a captivating charm. "I don't know why you're apologizing?" she said, her voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. "I just couldn't help but notice your... predicament." She gazed at his fallen figure and groceries.

Ethan's mind raced for a proper response, for something that would make her see him as more than just a bumbling fucktard. But his thoughts were all over the fucking place, and he feared that any words that escaped his lips would only serve to embarrass him further. "Sorry." He stupidly replied.

She extended a delicate hand toward him to help him up. "I'm Jade," she introduced herself, her gaze never leaving his. Ethan hesitated for a moment before taking her hand, his own trembling slightly. "E-Ethan." he managed to say, his voice still tinged with nervousness. God, he hoped his hand wasn't sweaty right now. Her grip was as gentle and more perfect than he could ever imagine, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through his veins. "Ethan," she repeated, savoring the sound of his name as if rolling it around on her tongue.

It was at that moment that Ethan felt something he had long forgotten—the feeling of love. Here was a woman who seemed to see past his surface, a woman who had stopped in her tracks just to talk to him. The possibility of a connection, no matter how improbable, ignited a spark of hope within him. Sure, he knew he was deluding himself. But confidence was nothing but deluding yourself! If there was one advice he heard about dating women, it was that CONFIDENCE WAS EVERYTHING!

"How about you hop in my car? I can help you out and drive you home. What do you say?" Jade offered.

"Okay!" Ethan didn't know what else to say to an offer like that. His mind was so jumbled he was surprised he managed that!

Ethan entered the beautiful lady's car with his grocery bags and just fidgeted in the front seat as she sped off down the street. His mind went blank as he tried to think of a conversation topic. What the fuck could he talk about with this bombshell of a woman? How often he jacks off a week? The best tips and tricks for Mecha Alliance 2? How he has nothing going on in his life at all? Wait! He could let her talk about herself instead of him talking about himself! Women loved to talk about themselves, right?

"So, uh… how's your day going?" He asked as they ignored the speed limit.

"Is there anyone at your house right now?" Jade asked, ignoring his question with her eyes focused on the road.

"NOPE!" Ethan instantly responded.

"Oh, you live alone?" Jade questioned with interest.

"S-Something like that." Ethan nervously giggled.

"This'll make things so much easier then." Jade smiled, shooting past a stopping sign.

'What the fuck did she mean by that?' Ethan questioned himself as his lower head slowly jumped from its slumber. 'Am I about to get laid for the first time in like forever? With a total stranger? A total stranger that's way out of my league?! A total stranger I just so happened to meet while on my way to the grocery store when I didn't shower or fix up my appearance at all?! Could God have finally answered my prayers? I know I stopped believing in you when you never answered my prayers related to gaming, but hey, if you're really willing to give this to me, I'm going to be fully devoted to you for the rest of my life. Even if it's just a one-time thing, I can die happy knowing I bedded this goddess.'

Eventually, the two made it back to Ethan's empty home. Jade didn't even allow Ethan to grab the groceries as she rushed him into the house. Ethan was all for it as he happily opened the door and invited her in. But, as he was about to dismiss himself to go shower first, Jade grabbed him by the hand and pulled him back with the cutest giggle in the world.

As Poison turned to face Ethan. Her smile was a wicked and alluring curve of her lips, captivating and dangerous. She moved closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper that seemed to echo in the stillness of the woods. "Ethan, there's no need for that. I like your natural scent… And there's something I have to tell you." He was a solid boulder right now.

Ethan's gaze was locked onto her, his desire evident in the widening of his eyes and the way he swallowed hard. "What is it?" he asked, his voice trembling with anticipation. With a flick of her arm, Poison snatched up Ethan by the throat.

"You are the biggest idiot, I've ever met in my life." Poison purred, her voice now a seductive melody that sent shivers down his spine. "Your lack of survival instincts are laughable. It's like you were begging me to devour you. I've never met prey that willingly invited a predator into its home." Poison's skin briefly turned back to its original green color instead of the disguised pale imitation of a human's.

As she spoke those words, Poison's extending nails trailed sensually along Ethan's jawline, leaving a trail of blood in their wake. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart, the musk of his fear, and she reveled in it. Her emerald eyes bore into his, seeking his vulnerability. But then, something unexpected happened. Ethan's expression shifted, his wide-eyed wonder giving way to a look of something altogether different. It was a look of lust, of intense desire, and a strange sense of contentment. His gaze remained locked onto her, but it was no longer one of fear or terror. This sudden change in his demeanor caught Poison off guard. She had expected him to be trembling with fear and begging for his life. But instead, he seemed to be okay with dying in her hand. His desire was palpable as if he had willingly surrendered himself to the darkness surrounding her. Then she looked down lower at his jeans and noticed something else. This little cretin thought she was going to mate with him?!

It ruined her mood. Her mid-day snack was looking less and less desirable before her eyes. She released her grip on him, and he dropped to the floor, gasping for air.

"What the hell is wrong with you, human? Are you damaged in the brain?" Poison questioned, her voice laced with frustration and confusion. She couldn't understand how her prey could have gone from fear to lust in the blink of an eye.

Ethan, still catching his breath, looked up at her with an assortment of emotions running through him. "I've spent most of my life in a never-ending cycle of emptiness and regret," he said, his voice filled with a strange sense of resignation. "But in this moment, when you talked to me back then on the street, I felt alive again. I felt like my life had a purpose. And for once, I didn't care about the consequences."

Poison watched him, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of his words. She had encountered countless humans in her life, but none had ever reacted like this. It was as if Ethan had welcomed his fate and had embraced the idea of being devoured by a daemon. It unnerved her. How could prey get attached to its predator? It wasn't right, but perhaps she could use this enigma of a pathetic human. She did need to get started on her plan to get revenge. What better way to do that than with a willing human to work as her slave?

She didn't know what good or use he would bring. But just the fact that he was foolish enough to willingly submit to her based on mere lust was good enough for now. If he proved himself incompetent, she could do away with him in an instant. There were more than enough humans to go around. One less wouldn't affect anything.

Ethan looked up at her after catching his breath. Was he being spared? Although he would've preferred to have had sex with this female monster before she killed him, this was fine, too. It's not like he had much to live for besides the sake of living. His mom would be fine without him. In fact, she'd probably be far better off without him leeching off of her like a parasite.

"You. Are you willing to serve me with all of your being?" Poison looked down on him.

"I'm willing." It wasn't like he had anything better to do. Maybe serving this female monster who eats humans will bring meaning to his life again. Plus, she was pretty fucking hot. Even when she looked terrifying as hell in her monster form.

Namgo · Oct 28, 2023

Before his job hunt, Ethan had something crucial to do if he wanted to continue serving Poison. Ethan's determination to prove himself useful for Poison led him to a moment he didn't quite know how to handle except directly. He couldn't very well hide Poison in his room for who knows how long she's going to allow him to stay next to her. If he allowed her to leave, she might just find someone better suited to be her slave! So, he decided to introduce her to his mother.

Ethan's heart pounded as he stood at the door with Poison. He was nervous about the impending meeting and worried about how his mother would react. "Okay, Poison, just remember, we have to follow my mom's rules, at least for now, until I can save up enough to get a place for us," Ethan whispered to her. Poison simply glanced at him. She wasn't interested in playing around with her slave, but she needed to start somewhere.

Ethan's mother opened the door, and her eyes widened as she saw the woman standing beside her son. Poison was attractive, and it was clear that she didn't believe someone like her would have feelings for her son. Her mind couldn't wrap around for what reason this beautiful woman was standing next to her son. Her son was too poor to be scammed by anyone.

"Ethan, who is your friend here?" his mother asked, disbelief evident in her tone.

Ethan scratched his head, his cheeks flushing. "Mom, this is Jade. We've been talking for a while online, and she decided to come out and meet me. You don't mind if she stays with us for a bit, do you?"

His mother continued to study Poison, searching for any sign that this was a farce. Poison kept her composure but didn't do much to reinforce the lie. She stared back at the human without offering support to Ethan or anything.

"Alright, dear," his mother said, her skepticism thinly veiled. "You can stay with us, but we have some house rules. You two will have to stay in separate rooms and no sleeping together." Ms. Rhodes would be damned if someone that wasn't her was having sex under her roof.

Poison nodded in agreement while Ethan tried to hide his disappointment. Although he never really believed Poison would sleep with him in the first place, it was still nice to have hope, you know?

With the house rules declared, Poison and Ethan made their way to his room. When he opened the door to his room, they both were assaulted by the horrendous smell inside. Poison pinched her nose together as she visibly recoiled in disgust at the sight and smell of the room. Ethan had never been so embarrassed about the state of his room, and it was clear that Poison was less than impressed as she entered. The room was cluttered with just absolute filth.

Ethan, mortified, began to apologize profusely. "I'm so sorry. I didn't have time to clean up. Let me just... tidy this up real quick. Please go to the guest room while I deal with this. It's just down on the hall on the left." As he frantically began clearing the mess, Poison left the haphazard room and went to the guest room without delay. This slave was off to a horrible start. Maybe she should've just killed him back then.

Ethan had made a decision. He was going to turn his life around, not for himself, but for the sake of serving Poison. As he actually put some effort into the task of entering the job market, his once lethargic demeanor underwent a significant transformation. It was time to take the first step towards being a productive human being. His journey began with a simple realization: he needed a job if he wanted to serve Jade, or Poison, as she told him to call her in private. The encounter with Poison had shaken something inside him, a yearning for more than the monotonous existence he had embraced for years. If he was going to be of any use to Poison, he had to show that he had any use at all.

With a newfound determination, Ethan went from place to place in person throughout his city after having Poison help him make himself look far more presentable and desirable. Well, as much as she could… He didn't think there was much to work with in the looks department as it wasn't something he ever really cared about, but now that he was serving Poison, maybe it was time that changed. Ethan walked into stores that he never would've applied to and did something he never would've done if he hadn't met Poison. He asked if they were hiring. Although he didn't always get a positive answer, there were more than a few times that he did.

When he walked into his first interview, he could feel the familiar weight of social anxiety pressing down on him. He shook his head as he focused on three things: honesty, confidence, and a firm handshake. The interview room was a brightly lit space. Across from him sat a middle-aged woman, her expression neutral. Ethan tried to smile, but it came out as a nervous twitch. "So, Mr. Rhodes, tell me about yourself," she began.

Ethan's mind raced. He knew he had to make a good impression. "Well, I'm really good with computers...I mean, not that I don't like people. I just... um, I'm good with computers." He stumbled over his words, sweat forming on his forehead. The woman raised an eyebrow. "Can you give me an example of a time when you solved a problem at work?" Ethan thought for a moment. "Oh, there was this time when my computer froze, and I Googled how to fix it. It took me, like, a few minutes tops, but I got it working again." He chuckled nervously, not telling her he had no prior work experience.

The interviewer's skepticism deepened. "That's... nice. But can you tell me about a time when you worked well in a team?" Ethan's mind raced to recall any such moment, but it was like searching for a needle in a haystack. "Well, I usually play online games, and you know, teamwork is important there. I've been in a few guilds...or, uh, teams, and we...well, we did stuff together, I guess."

The interview continued in a similarly awkward fashion, with Ethan fumbling through answers, stuttering, and occasionally nervously laughing. By the end of it, he could sense that the interviewer couldn't wait for him to leave. His first interview ended with a polite rejection, which felt like a heavy blow to his already fragile self-esteem. But Ethan wasn't really expecting to get in his first shot anyway…

…

It was furnished with understated decor, including clean, cream-colored walls. The central focus of the room was a sturdy wooden desk, neatly organized with documents. An inviting chair was placed across from the desk for the applicant, creating a balanced and conducive environment for the interview. Ethan entered, feeling a little bit sweaty in his suit and tie recently bought thanks to his mother's money. The middle-aged interviewer, Ms. Simmons, offered a polite smile, which Ethan could only manage to return with a nervous twitch. As they went through the initial formalities, Ethan's anxiety escalated. His palms grew sweaty, and he began to fidget with a potted plant on the desk.

"Mr. Ethan, it's a pleasure to meet you. Tell me, what interests you in this position?" Ms. Simmons inquired, showing the utmost professionalism as a natural human being well-adjusted to society.

Ethan's voice quivered as he attempted to articulate his desire for the job. But as he extended his trembling hand for a handshake, disaster struck. In his nervousness, he knocked over the potted plant, sending it crashing to the floor with a loud thud. Soil and leaves scattered in every direction. Ms. Simmons' polite smile faltered, replaced by an astonished expression. "Oh my! Are you alright?" she asked, concern mingling with her surprise. Ethan, mortified and beet red, bent down to pick up the scattered plant, muttering apologies. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to... It's just...uh, this plant... it's... really interesting... I mean, I wasn't trying to knock it over..."

Ms. Simmons, now clearly perplexed, gave him a nod. "Well, let's move on. Please, have a seat. I'll deal with that later; don't dirty your nice outfit over it." She gestured toward the chair, now surrounded by a mess of soil and leaves. As Ethan sat down, his heart pounded like a drum. He couldn't help but feel that he'd already sabotaged his chances.

…

In another interview, Ethan found himself in a room with a younger, more casual-looking interviewer, Mr. Anderson. This time, Ethan was determined to make a better impression. As Mr. Anderson asked the typical question, "Tell me about your hobbies and interests," Ethan's mind raced through various potential responses. However, when he began to speak, it was as if he couldn't stop. Ethan launched into an extensive monologue about his favorite video games, their plotlines, character development, and strategies for success. He mentioned game titles, gaming platforms, and even the most obscure easter eggs he had ever discovered.

He began by immersing the interviewer in the realm of gaming, highlighting the allure of gaming. His voice became animated as he described the intricate plotlines of his beloved games. For instance, he vividly depicted the vast, interconnected cities of Xeloria, where players navigated through political intrigue and journeyed through space while battling space pirates. He painted a picture of a war-torn galaxy in the game Azurion Rift, where players assumed the roles of interstellar mercenaries with their own self-created backstories.

Ethan's monologue extended to character development. He spoke of protagonists who faced moral dilemmas, each choice impacting the game's outcome. Characters grew and evolved over time, influenced by the player's decisions. He passionately discussed how games like "Virtual Odyssey" allowed players to sculpt their avatars with unique customization, down to the finest details of appearance and personality.

In his discourse on strategies for success, Ethan showcased his deep understanding of in-game mechanics. He explained how mastering a character's abilities and understanding enemy behavior patterns were keys to triumph. He highlighted the significance of timing, resource management, and teamwork when tackling the game's toughest challenges. Moreover, Ethan demonstrated his mastery of gaming platforms. He dived into the technical aspects, elaborating on how gaming rigs and consoles offered unique gaming experiences. He drew distinctions between the hyper-realistic graphics of the QuantumCore X6 and the versatility of the Horizon V gaming console, emphasizing how each platform catered to different gaming preferences.

Unbeknownst to him, Mr. Anderson's polite smile began to fade, replaced by a mixture of confusion and irritation. The interviewer tried to interject, "That's quite interesting, but let's focus on your qualifications for this job. Please." Ethan, lost in his gaming world, barely acknowledged the interruption. He continued to ramble on about epic boss battles and legendary loot drops. Minutes turned into an eternity, and Mr. Anderson's patience reached its limit. With a forced cough, he interjected more forcefully, "Mr. Ethan, I appreciate your enthusiasm for video games, but we really need to discuss your qualifications for this position. Can you tell me about your relevant work experience?"

Ethan finally snapped out of his gaming trance, realizing that he'd been talking non-stop for far too long. He stammered an apology, but it was clear that the damage had been done. The interview continued, but the atmosphere had grown significantly more awkward. Mr. Anderson couldn't help but wonder how this applicant, with such a passion for gaming, could be so oblivious to social cues. Ethan left the interview room that day, feeling dejected and knowing that he had once again failed to make a favorable impression. This whole getting a job thing was a hell of a lot fucking harder when you were a braindead fucktard…

…

Ethan had applied for a job as a cashier at a fast-food restaurant. His determination to provide for his angel drove him to endure another in-person interview. This time, the interview was scheduled at a bustling fast-food joint. As he entered the restaurant, the scent of greasy fries and sizzling patties filled the air. The manager, Mr. Reynolds, welcomed him with a firm handshake. Ethan's hand was slightly clammy, and he winced, hoping Mr. Reynolds hadn't noticed. They sat at a corner table, near the constant hum of the front counter. Mr. Reynolds leaned forward, his tone casual but businesslike. "So, Ethan, why do you want to work here?"

Ethan tried to sound enthusiastic. "I've always liked your burgers... I mean, I've always been a fan of fast food, and I think I'd be a great addition to your team." Mr. Reynolds nodded, seemingly pleased with the response. "That's great to hear. We value team players here. Can you give me an example of a time when you worked effectively in a team?" Ethan racked his brain for a relevant experience but came up empty. He decided to embellish a little. "Well, I was part of a group project in college. We had to organize a presentation, and I helped with setting up the slideshow and electronic document for all of us to work on at the same time, even if we couldn't always meet up in person."

Mr. Reynolds looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but he didn't press further. "That sounds good. Now, what do you think makes a great cashier?" Ethan shifted in his chair, his mind racing to find the right answer. "I think a great cashier should be... um, fast with numbers, friendly to customers, and... organized. Yeah, definitely organized."

Mr. Reynolds nodded, seemingly satisfied with the response. "Alright, Ethan. One last question. Can you tell me about a challenging situation you've faced at a previous job or in your personal life and how you handled it?" Ethan thought about the countless gaming challenges he'd overcome and considered mentioning one, but he realized it probably wasn't the smartest ideae. "Well, there was this one time when I had to handle a difficult classmate in college. They were really upset, and I tried to, you know, calm them down and resolve the issue without it escalating."

Mr. Reynolds smiled, apparently content with the answer. "Thank you, Ethan. We'll be in touch within a week or two." Ethan left the fast-food restaurant with mixed feelings. The interview had been better than the previous ones. He felt a little confident that this might turn out well.

…

For his next interview, Ethan had applied for a position as an associate at a local supermarket. He arrived at the supermarket on a bright and busy day, where shoppers bustled about with full carts. The assistant manager, Mrs. Sanchez, greeted him with a friendly smile and led him to the back of the store where the employees worked. The atmosphere was far less intimidating than his previous interviews.

"So, Ethan, why do you want to work as an associate of Harvest Delights?" Mrs. Sanchez asked. Ethan felt more at ease and replied, "I've never really had a bad experience at Harvest Delights, and I've been shopping in these stores since I was a little kid. I wanted to experience what it feels like to be a part of a successful long-time company that knows what they're doing and how to treat their customers." He had help with that answer thanks to the internet.

Mrs. Sanchez nodded, her expression encouraging. "That's great to hear. Now, tell me about your experience with organization and attention to detail." Ethan was relieved that he could draw on his experiences, especially his obsession with arranging his gaming setup efficiently. "I'm very detail-oriented. I've spent a lot of time organizing my personal space and making sure everything is in its place. I believe these skills would translate well into working at Harvest Delights."

Mrs. Sanchez smiled at him. "Excellent. Now, can you give me an example of a time when you had to work efficiently in a team?" Ethan recalled a few gaming sessions where teamwork was crucial. "Back in college, I was usually the person that people emailed for help during our project whenever it had to deal with something online or technological. I'm good with technology."

Mrs. Sanchez nodded and moved on to the final question. "Ethan, tell me about a time when you faced a challenge in a previous job or in your personal life and how you overcame it." Ethan shared a story from his past, "Back in school, I had a tough math course that I initially struggled with. Instead of avoiding it, I sought extra help from my teacher, joined study groups, and put in extra hours of practice. Over time, my math skills improved, and I even ended up helping others in the class." Mrs. Sanchez smiled warmly. "Thank you, Ethan. We'll be in touch with you soon."

As Ethan left the supermarket, he felt a glimmer of hope. The interview had gone well, and he could sense that he was making progress. He clenched his fist with pride. This whole communicating with other human beings thing was getting easier and easier!

Namgo · Oct 29, 2023

Ethan had committed to turning his life around for the sake of proving himself useful to Poison. He knew that to be of any use to her. He needed to show what he could do for her. For the first time in his life, he put some effort into being a productive member of society.

His day began early, long before the sun had even considered rising. He would stumble out of his now neatly maintained bed with frequently washed sheets, fighting off the drowsiness that clung to him like a persistent shadow. After a quick shower and a meager breakfast, he'd set out into the chilly morning in his work uniform, his breath forming misty clouds in the dark. His first job was at Callie's Burgers, one of those soul-sucking positions he had so fervently avoided in the past. The uniform felt constricting, and the smell of fast food clung to him as if it were a permanent part of his being. But Ethan endured it, knowing that he had a purpose now, something to strive for beyond his own comfort.

At the fast-food joint, he worked the early morning shift, flipping burgers and serving customers with a fake smile. The hours dragged on as the clock mercilessly inched its way toward his break. During those precious minutes, he would pull out his phone and give his brain some much-needed mindless entertainment for rest.

The lunch rush was a chaotic drain of his will to live, and Ethan found himself moving like a soulless robot. The fast-paced environment left little room for idle thoughts or daydreams, but he persevered during its lunch rush. The queue snaked its way around to the counter, winding through a maze of red ropes. The overhead menu boards blared with images of oversized burgers and dripping milkshakes, tempting customers to make their choices. The hiss of the fryer and the sizzle of the grill melded into sounds of delicious cheap goodness, and the air was thick with the pungent aroma of frying oil and grilling meat.

Ethan stood rooted behind the counter, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he worked the cash register and with customers. His uniform, a bright red shirt, and matching cap, clung uncomfortably to his body, soaked through by the relentless heat of the kitchen. Exhaustion gnawed at his bones. Talking to people was a lot more draining than he thought. There was no respite for him, no moment of rest to catch his breath. He longed for the solace of his bedroom, a place where he could escape hard work.

Then, a customer emerged from the line. Her face twisted in a scowl that could curdle milk. She slammed her tray onto the counter with a sharp, resounding thud, causing an unattended soda to topple, its contents spilling in a sticky puddle on the polished surface. The woman's lips curled into a sneer, and she pinned Ethan with a withering glare.

"You people can't do anything right," she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain as if she believed she was the sole beacon of perfection in a world of incompetence. "I obviously ordered a Double Callie Smacker with no pickles, but tell me what that is!" She screeched while pointing at the burger that had pickles on it.

Ethan sighed. He would love nothing more than just to walk out right now and never come back, but then he thought about Poison. He thought about how she would feel if she knew he had given up on his efforts to support her and prove his value to her. He grabbed a stack of napkins and bent over to mop up the mess. "I'm really sorry about that, ma'am," he said, his voice soothing despite the turmoil within. "It was an accident. We'll remake your order."

The woman, far from appeased, huffed impatiently. Her impatience was palpable, an unspoken demand for instant gratification. "You're all incompetent here," she muttered under her breath, her eyes rolling in exasperation. "It's like you don't care about your jobs." Ethan bit his lip, the taste of frustration mingling with his own sweat. He knew a retort was futile, but it was difficult to swallow the words that begged to be unleashed. For the first time in his life, once again, he actually had to censor himself from expressing his true feelings. Instead, he gave her order to his co-workers in the kitchen and politely told her it would be out in just a second. The woman glared at him without a word of thanks, her fingers brushing his with a dismissive graze. She rejoined her equally impatient friends at a nearby table, each of them sharing in their collective discontent loudly. Ethan sighed, his shoulders slumping as he returned to his post. The relentless onslaught of rude customers wore on him, making each shift feel longer than it was.

When the clock struck noon, he would rush to his second job at Harvest Delights. This time, he was working as a stocker, responsible for replenishing the shelves with various items. It was a physically demanding job, requiring him to lift heavy items and move quickly to keep the shelves well-stocked. The monotony of the task allowed his mind to wander, and he often found himself lost in thought, wishing he could listen to his earbuds while working. But that was explicitly not allowed, as his boss warned him.

As the day turned into evening, Ethan's energy waned further. The fatigue settled into his bones, and he moved with a sluggish gait. He only had one thirty-minute break every day to rest his weary body and grab a quick snack to eat at the store, but after that, there was no time for relaxation until it was time to clock out.

Ethan was in the grocery section, overseeing the pasta aisle. It was a busy afternoon, and customers were bustling about. Among them was Linda, an affluent woman with a penchant for organic products. She had a particular brand of organic pasta in mind, and she was determined to find it. As Linda scoured the shelves, she noticed that her beloved pasta was nowhere to be found. Frustration crept in as she searched for the familiar packaging. It was then that she spotted Ethan, a Harvest Delights associate who was diligently stocking the shelves with canned pasta.

Linda approached him, "Excuse me," she said, "I can't seem to find my favorite organic pasta. It's always here, and I really need it." Ethan looked up at her with his customer smile. Her smile flinched as she looked at him. It was a work in progress. "Can you tell me the name of it or something?" Ethan replied. How the hell was he supposed to know what her favorite organic pasta was? Linda's face tightened. "It's always right here, but it's not here today. Can you go look in the back and see if you have it in stock?"

Ethan didn't know the first thing of what the hell she was going on about. But he could lie and act. With his customer smile on his face, he got up from the floor and replied, "Sure. I'll take a look. Be right back." Ethan left to go to the warehouse in the back. He took around two or three minutes of pointlessly looking around the back for an item she didn't even give him the name for before returning to her shaking his head. "Sorry, it seems we are completely out." He lied.

Linda, not satisfied with this explanation, crossed her arms and raised her voice. "That's not good enough! I'm a loyal customer, and I expect better service. Go to the back and find that pasta for me. I don't have time for this!" Ethan tried to reason with Linda, "I understand your frustration, ma'am, but I've already checked our inventory, and we don't have any more of that brand at the moment. I can show you similar options, or you can check back at a later time when we receive a new shipment."

But Linda was having none of it. Her entitlement knew no bounds. She began to berate Ethan loudly, making a scene in the grocery aisle. Other shoppers paused to watch the commotion, and store associates were alerted to the situation. She pointed an accusatory finger at Ethan, her voice a shrill screech. "What kind of service is this? I've been a loyal customer for years, and this is how you treat me? Unbelievable!" Linda's tone grew more condescending as she continued, "You should be bending over backward to satisfy customers like me. Do you even know who I am?"

The store manager, upon hearing the commotion, arrived at the scene to address the situation. After confirming with Ethan that they had indeed run out of the specific pasta, the manager offered Linda an apology and suggested she explore alternatives or return at a later date. Linda huffed, realizing her demands were futile, and reluctantly left the aisle. Ethan inwardly smiled as he lied the entire time. They may have had that pasta in the back the entire time, but he refused to do more than the bare minimum.

Ethan, satisfied with the outcome of his first experience with a Karen, resumed his duties, continuing to stock the shelves with the alternatives Linda had rejected. It was a challenging day, but he knew that in the world of retail, dealing with rude customers was an inevitable part of the job.

Two weeks had passed since Ethan began his double life, working tirelessly at both Callie's Burgers and Harvest Delights. His motivation to provide for Poison had transformed him into a productive member of society. This newfound sense of purpose was etched on his face as he approached Poison with his first paycheck. With a proud and hopeful smile, Ethan held out the envelope containing his hard-earned pay. "Look, Poison," he said, his voice filled with excitement, "I got my first paycheck today!."

Poison accepted the envelope, her expression as inscrutable as ever. She meticulously counted the money inside, her fingers moving with precision. After a few moments, she glanced at Ethan, her eyes devoid of praise. "Two weeks for this paltry sum of money," she remarked, her tone tinged with disappointment. Ethan's smile faltered, and he looked at the meager amount. It was clear that his hard work was pointless. All that suffering and for what? He knew minimum wage was terrible, but two jobs paying minimum wage still didn't equal a living wage? What kind of shit is that?

Poison had higher aspirations. This pathetic amount of money was nowhere near enough for her to get her plan started. "It's time for a more efficient way of gaining funds," Poison stated, her voice cold and resolute. "We need to do something bigger, and I have a plan. We're going to rob a bank." Ethan's eyes widened in disbelief. Such a huge leap in escalation left him speechless. He knew he was this beautiful monster lady's slave, but he didn't realize that it would involve him in criminal activities like robbing a bank. Yet, as he looked into Poison's unwavering gaze, he understood that she was completely serious about this.

"Poison, do you know uhm… how heavily protected a bank is?" Ethan had seen a lot of movies and researched a lot of strange topics on the internet. He came across just how complicated it would be to actually rob a bank with all their safety measures in place.

"No. I'll leave you to think of the plan. I'll ensure it goes off without any problems. Are we clear?" Poison softly massaged the white fox resting on her lap.

"Maybe we should start smaller? Like robbing a gas station?" Ethan suggested.

"How much money do they make compared to this?" Poison pointed to the money on her bed.

Ethan could only shrug his shoulders. He didn't have the slightest clue on how much money gas stations made but knew that they wouldn't be doing themselves any favors by robbing a bank. "I'll think of something instead of robbing a bank so that we can make money, okay?" Ethan scratched his head. "I expect something good, slave. Otherwise, I don't see a reason to keep you around for much longer." She reminded him of his position.

"I won't let you down…" Ethan secretly sighed as he made his way to his computer to search some stuff up in private mode and with his VPN running.

Namgo · Nov 4, 2023

The city bus grumbled to a halt, its brakes screeching in protest as it reached the end of the line. It was a desolate winter night, and the city's streets were blanketed in the hushed stillness that only the coldest nights could offer. From the bus, two figures disembarked, their breath visible in the frigid air, the darkness of the night acting as a cloak to shield their identities. The bus, its warm interior a stark contrast to the icy night, continued on its journey, leaving the two individuals. They walked to a nearby alley as the freezing air did its best to cling to their bodies.

Ethan's thoughts raced as he followed Poison into the dimly lit alley. He had known that getting involved in this criminal endeavor with her would be dangerous, but he couldn't deny the exhilaration that surged through him. The adrenaline pumping in his veins mixed with the biting cold, creating a heady cocktail of emotions. He wasn't excited due to getting involved in a life of crime. It was more about spending more time with Poison, getting to know her, and increasing his likeability in her eyes. This entire heist was due to his research on what would be some easy way of achieving cash with the least amount of risk to them.

In the heart of the alleyway, the two culprits reached into their coats, retrieving masks. Both of them wore standard balaclavas, hiding their facial features. The feminine-shaped one took the lead as they began making their way down the sidewalk. The masculine-shaped one adjusted the duffel bag over his back while following behind her. The anticipation weighed heavily on Ethan as he watched Poison's behind with a mix of revere and lust. He couldn't help but admire her shapely figure while he had the chance. Her expertise in crime and being sneaky was the farthest thing from his mind. As far as he knew, monsters didn't usually do sneaky so well. They were all more like break this, break that, and beat up the cops when they came to apprehend them. Ethan knew he needed to be cautious not to draw unnecessary attention to them, for his inexperience could jeopardize their success.

They eventually found themselves in front of the closed Meridian Trust Bank. Both of them looked up at the security cameras before Poison used her elbow to break the glass of the locked doors. Instantly, the alarms sounded, jolting Ethan. Panic clawed at him, but he couldn't afford to let it show. He had a role to play, after all. The alarms blared, filling the silent streets with their urgent wailing. Ethan's heart pounded in his chest as he followed Poison inside the dimly lit bank. It was being lit up by the alarms going off, making it somewhat easier for Ethan to navigate. He didn't know if Poison had some sort of night vision because she was a monster, but he certainly didn't have anything like that. They moved like shadows, their footsteps muffled by the carpeted floor. Ethan walked cautiously while the Poison made her way to the ATM machines. He stood in front of her as she went to work on the machine, blocking the view of the cameras on how she was working on it.

Ethan stood on watch as Poison used her monster strength to get into the ATM. Her confidence was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but be a bit proud to be by her side. He understood that being with her was taking him down a path he had never imagined. The cameras picked up the screeching sound of something. It was like nails on a chalkboard but replacing the sound of the board with steel. In less than twenty seconds, Ethan's duffel bag was filled with cold-hard cash. At just a glance, it could be seen that there was a thousand bucks in there at the very least. But this wasn't enough for the two criminals as they went to work on the other ATMs. By the time they filled up their duffel bag with as much money as it could carry, not even five minutes had passed when the bank's security alarm started.

As they heard the sirens approaching, Ethan felt a mixture of anxiety and thrill. This was a world he had never known, but with Poison, he was discovering a side of himself he hadn't realized existed. They needed to get out of there fast, and every second counted. He didn't know whether he was happy they completed their heist perfectly or the fact that he successfully accomplished what Poison asked of him. The cameras saw as they fled down the street into the distance before making a turn and disappearing from their view range.

"As of now, there has been no further information about these criminals. Local police have been on the lookout for large quantities of money being spent, but as of yet, nothing has surfaced. These thieves may be smarter than the average criminal. If you have any information on these thieves, Krey's Police Force is willing to give out a 500-dollar reward for anyone who can contribute to identifying these criminals. Please contact them at the number at the bottom of the screen if you have any valuable information to share."

Poison reclined on the couch, a sly grin on her face. "Humans are really stupid," she mused. Ethan nodded, his heart finally coming to a calm. "The news is a good way to get information." "I'm aware," Poison replied, her emerald-green eyes gleaming with satisfaction. She had long since learned to exploit the usefulness of mankind's ignorance.

Ethan had been up all night freaking out about the possibility that the cops would suddenly descend on them. Helicopters, SWAT teams, and all sorts of weaponry coming in and pointing at them. Knowing Poison was a monster, it would be difficult to imagine that scenario playing out any other way besides a bloodbath or them being shot up with holes. He couldn't even play on his PC. That's how nervous he was! Even when his first girlfriend broke up with him, he could play long into the night. But this? He couldn't even last 10 minutes as the anxiety gnawed at him from the inside.

"What are we going to do now with all this money?" Ethan asked, finally calm now that he knew the police had nothing on them.

"Get my long-waited revenge, of course." Poison said with a mischievous smile.

Ethan didn't exactly know what to say to that. He hoped that didn't include him and his mother. Everyone else, he didn't really care about. Some might call him heartless or a traitor to mankind, but honestly, how could he care about the fate of others when his own was at stake? Plus, Poison was really fucking hot.

It was why it was kind of easy to get into this life of crime. Ethan wouldn't describe himself as a monster lacking empathy, but he just didn't really care about other people. Why should he care about them if they weren't in his circle? And currently, the only people in his circle were himself, his mom, and Poison. He loved his mother, and he was in love with Poison. If his mom asked him to do some crimes for her, he'd reject her, but Poison was the woman of his dreams. He couldn't reject her wishes. How else was he going to get closer to her if he didn't give her what she wanted?

"Oh," Ethan replied, still grappling with his newfound identity as a local criminal with a bounty of 500 USD.

"Are you unwilling?" Poison gave him a look, crossing her long, beautiful legs over each other.

"No?" Ethan responded, trying to sound more confident.

"Why did that sound like a question?" Poison asked.

"It wasn't!" Ethan responded, quickly trying to please her.

"For your sake, I hope it wasn't," Poison said, her gaze piercing. She was unpredictable, and that made her all the more arousing to Ethan.

Ethan knew that at any second, she could extend those sharp nails of hers and pierce his body. They were sharp enough to cut through the safes used by banks everywhere to protect their cash. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he stared into her eyes, eager to prove himself trustworthy. Unknowingly, his pants grew tight, but he hoped she didn't notice.

"Now get out of my sight," Poison said, pushing him off the couch. "I'll tell you when the next part of my plan begins."

Ethan rolled away out of the living room as Poison continued to watch television. He met his mother in the kitchen on the phone, chatting with someone he wasn't interested in knowing about. Her eyes lit up at the sight of him. It was like she looked at him as a whole new person now that he was working and had a girlfriend. It kind of pissed him off to know that his mother looked at him like he was a complete waste before when she looked at him with so much pride and joy now. But could he really blame her? Ever since he graduated from college with a useless English degree, he was nothing but a useless leech. Still, though, his likability points for his mother slightly lowered. She should love him regardless of how useless he is. Right?

Namgo · Nov 5, 2023

"A gun!?" Ethan exclaimed. "Why are you handing me this?! I never killed anyone before! I don't want to kill anyone! I never even used a gun before!" Ethan quietly yelled.

"Ethan, sweetie…" Poison gently cupped his face as she brought him closer to her.

Ethan focused on Poison's plump, kissable lips heading toward his own before realizing she overshot it and was directly in his ear. "Shut your mouth before I shut it for you. Did I say you had to kill anyone? No, I didn't. So just take the stupid thing and don't bring attention to it." She roughly pushed him on the bed as she adjusted her glasses.

"We need resources if we want to get off the ground. Now that we have some financial capital, we can start recruitment efforts. Humans are incentivized by money, correct? They live and die for useless pieces of paper, right?" Poison looked toward Ethan as he held the cold, heavy gun in his hand.

"Right…" Ethan agreed with her as his mind jumbled.

Stealing, robbing, vandalism, and all that was fine but a pistol? A gun was only used for two things: threatening death and causing death. Nearly a month ago, Ethan was nothing but a shut-in! Now he's on his way to becoming a murderer? While he loved Poison and would probably do a lot of things for and to her, could he really kill another person because of her? Taking a life wasn't as easy as it was in video games and comics. Ethan had zero enemies. He has never hated a single person in his life because he simply didn't care enough about anyone to waste energy hating on another living being. Could he kill an innocent person because of his love for Poison? The scary thing about asking himself a question like that was the first answer in his head wasn't immediately no as he held the heavy firearm in his hand...

Poison looked at the emotionally frail human with disgust and disdain. Several thoughts bounced through her head as she saw him wrestling with the fact that he might have to take an insignificant human's life. Unlike humans, a sufficient show of force could work for daemons. Fear was a good tool for control, but fear alone would lead to ruin. Poison had read many interesting things about humanity with the phone she acquired long back when. A weak human like Ethan would betray her the first second he could if she used fear, pain, and threats. However, what if she appealed to his disgusting sense of lust?

Poison wasn't the type of daemon to allow her pride to lead her to ruin like many of her daemon brothers and sisters. However, that didn't mean she was void of pride altogether. Why should she, a daemon on the cusp of becoming a Daemon King resort to such humiliating behavior for the sake of this pathetic whelp? Poison started listing out the pros and cons of eliminating Ethan at this second.

It would have been a monumental waste of time keeping him by her side all this time just to throw him away at the slightest inconvenience. It wasn't like he's hindered her goals in any way. He has only shown signs of potentially doing so in the future. A sign that could be eliminated if she fulfilled that absurd sense of attraction he has for her in some way. But Poison didn't want to touch Ethan. He disgusted her. Well, there was one thing she could do…

Ethan didn't know what to think as Poison left his room, which was practically unrecognizable from what it looked like a month ago. From a pig's slop to something actually presentable. It took much scrubbing, washing, and cleaning until he could finally get rid of the smell that nearly ruined his chances with her entirely. If it hadn't already…

Poison said she had a reward for him if he could gain some members for their group. He specifically asked if they were going to commit crimes, and she didn't think that his question deserved a response. Ethan couldn't fault her for that. The fact that they did a heist and she just gave him a gun made him realize it was a pretty stupid question. He sighed.

How the hell was he going to recruit people willing to do crimes? Sure, Poison gave him access to the tens of thousands of dollars they stole from the bank, but it wasn't like there was a forum or something for him to… Actually, there might be something…

Job Title: Unconventional Opportunity for Risk-Takers

Company: Exclusive Enterprises

Location: Krey City.

Job Description: Are you tired of the mundane 9-to-5 routine? Do you crave excitement and adventure in your life? Exclusive Enterprises is offering an extraordinary opportunity for individuals looking to break free from the ordinary. We are a dynamic, forward-thinking organization that values diversity, creativity, and an unconventional approach to life.

Job Requirements:

Adaptability
Willingness to embrace the thrill of the unknown.
A unique perspective on life.
Openness to thinking outside the box.
Unconventional problem-solving skills.
Strong desire for financial growth (pay is very much negotiable).

Job Responsibilities:

Engage in activities that defy conventional norms.
Collaborate with like-minded individuals to achieve extraordinary goals.
Challenge the status quo and push boundaries.
Discover and create opportunities where others see obstacles.
Embrace uncertainty and unpredictability.

Job Benefits:

Competitive compensation (details will be discussed).
Access to a network of like-minded individuals.
Unique experiences that will set you apart from the crowd.
Opportunity to make your mark on the world.
Irregular schedule. (You won't have to come five days out of the week every week!)

If you're ready to step out of your comfort zone and embark on an experience most people would never, apply now! Compensation will be negotiated based on your unique contributions. Please note that we operate with the utmost secrecy, and confidentiality is essential.

How to Apply: Interested candidates should send a message explaining why they're the perfect fit for this exciting opportunity. Be prepared to discuss your experiences, skills, and why you're ready to embrace a life less ordinary. Even if you don't have any experience, that's totally fine! Fresh out of college? We don't care! However, no one under 18 should apply.

Ethan looked over application after application in the following weeks and was actually surprised by how many people sent in applications to his sketchy-ass job ad. He didn't even bother making a fake Infopedia page for Exclusive Enterprises. The first thing that popped up when you searched for Exclusive Enterprises was a bunch of other suspicious companies with the same name. One of which was explicitly stated to be permanently closed.

But desperate times call for desperate measures. Most of the job applications were sent in by people above the age of 25, but there were a few young ones in the mix as well, fresh out of college type with zero real experience or job history. It didn't really matter to Ethan what these people's backgrounds were, though. The most important thing was whether or not they would agree to the job after learning the truth about it…

Ethan scrolled through his email inbox, his eyes flitting from one message to another. The subject lines were as diverse as the applicants themselves, each representing a unique story, a distinct plea for a chance at a job that didn't have stringent requirements that eliminated 90% of potential employees.

He clicked on the first email, and as the words appeared on the screen, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the sender. It was a single mother, recently laid off from her dead-end job, desperately seeking a means to support her children. Her email was heartfelt. Her desperation could be heard through the screen. In a sick sort of way, he laughed. He wondered if she was desperate enough to become a full-time criminal for the sake of her children. That'd be a pretty fucking interesting story, wouldn't it?

The next email was from a recent college graduate brimming with enthusiasm and dreams of escaping the drudgery of unemployment. It was clear that this person was willing to leap into the unknown in the pursuit of excitement and adventure. Their job history was practically blank if you didn't include their history in retail and fast food. No skills of anything to take note of, just enthusiasm and the willingness to do whatever it takes to get the job done. They'll probably need someone like that in the group, but would this person think being a criminal is exciting enough to escape unemployment?

One by one, Ethan opened the emails, not all of them were sad saps or eager beavers. The applicants varied in age, background, and experience, but they all had one thing in common: a job suited for anyone that didn't seem as soul-sucking as most minimum-wage jobs.

Ethan hoped to keep even half of these people when he broke the news to them in a week. He sent them all replies back, looking forward to the interview at an empty office building he found. There was just an office building with no people inside it, not being used by anyone. He watched it for over a week and saw no one was using it. Occasionally, cleaners came by to keep it spiffy and from catching dust, but that was it. Ethan thought that a little vandalism wouldn't hurt anyone since he was a criminal. No one even worked inside! It was just a building being wasted for the sake of being wasted. The perfect location for a group interview.

Namgo · Nov 11, 2023

The sun's soft rays gently crept into Jasmine's modest apartment, casting a warm glow that heralded the start of a new day. It was a day like any other, one of relentless struggle and boundless love, and it began with the task that defined her existence: getting her two beloved children ready for the day. As she tiptoed through the tiny apartment, Jasmine couldn't help but think about the job interview she's been preparing for ever since she received a response from that job ad. In the smaller of the two bedrooms, her daughter, Imani, lay tangled in a sea of blankets, her tousled hair framing her peaceful face. In the other room, her son, Malik, snuggled up with his stuffed bear, his tiny chest rising and falling with the rhythm of innocent dreams. These were the moments Jasmine cherished when her children were still tucked in their dreams, free from the realities of their challenging lives.

Jasmine approached Imani's bed first, her fingers gently brushing away a lock of the girl's messy hair. "Wake up, Imani," she whispered, her voice filled with tenderness. Imani stirred, her sleepy eyes blinking open, and she offered her mother a drowsy smile. "Morning, Mommy," she mumbled. The next room held the boy, Malik, who was known for his perpetual energy but seemed to have misplaced it in the night. With a loving smile, Jasmine placed a gentle kiss on Malik's forehead, coaxing him into the land of the living with a soft, "Time to wake up, little man." As the children slowly roused from their slumber, the rush of the morning began. Jasmine had perfected the art of efficiency, and every minute counted. She helped Imani into her school uniform, brushed her hair, and helped her with her tiny shoes. Meanwhile, Malik had started to squirm, the prospect of getting dressed not holding his attention for long. Jasmine deftly guided his tiny limbs into his pants and shirt, all while managing the morning rush.

Breakfast was a simple cereal and milk, the sound of spoons clinking against bowls and giggles filling the small kitchen. Jasmine hardly had a moment to take a bite herself, the needs of her children taking precedence over her own. Amidst the feeding, dressing, and preparation for the day ahead, Jasmine was also on the phone with her best friend, Alexus. It was a juggling act of motherhood and conversation, the connection to Alexus providing a much-needed lifeline during these trying times.

"Jasmine, you for real 'bout this interview?" Alexus's voice crackled through the phone's speaker. Jasmine's hands never stopped moving. "Girl, I don't got a choice. Life's been a non-stop struggle since I lost my job. Bills pilin' up, landlord breathin' down my neck. Ain't got the luxury to be picky."

"But this Exclusive Enterprises thing... I did some digging, and I couldn't find anything about them. It's all so sketchy," Alexus insisted.

"I know, I know," she replied, her voice tinged with desperation. "But if it's real, if it's a chance to provide for my kids, I gotta check it out. Can't just sit here and do nothin' while we drownin' in bills. Rent is due soon and unless you planning to give me fifteen hundred..." Silence responded to her on the other line.

"We ain't drownin', Mommy. Ain't no water." Imani corrected her mom.

"You right, baby, we ain't drownin'. We gonna make it." Jasmine smiled at her daughter, refusing to let the chance to provide for her children pass by.

The weight of her responsibilities and the relentless challenges of single motherhood bore down on Jasmine. She had once dreamt of a better life, one where her children had all they needed, a stable job, and a partner to share it all with. But life had thrown her curveballs, leaving her with a mountain of responsibilities and dreams nonexistant. As the call continued, Jasmine finished preparing her children, her heart a mixture of pride and sadness. She was a mother who had to be both protector and provider, a role she never imagined for herself. But, for her children, she would do whatever it took to give them a better life.

After dropping Imani and Malik off at daycare, she took a deep breath and headed to the address she had received for the job interview. With every mile driven, she clung to the fragile hope that this opportunity could be her chance. Eventually, Jasmine made it to the office building where the job interview was supposed to happen. She parked in the parking lot, noticing a lot of other cars parked as well. "Girl, there's like dozens of cars in this parking lot! There's no way this ain't real." Jasmine said as she got out of her car.

"Y'all could all be stupid and desperate," Alexus noted.

"Bitch, shut up." Jasmine laughed as she made it to the entrance. "Alright, I gotta go. I'll call you back in a bit to see if this shit is real or not."

"If you get kidnapped or some shit, I'll call the cops for you. You better call me right after, bitch." Alexus threatened her out of concern.

"I will! Bye!" Jasmine hung up as she got inside.

Thankfully, since so many people were applying for this job, she didn't have to look around like she was lost. She just followed where everyone else was going although they looked lost too, shid… Why weren't there any employees directing them to where the interview was taking place? Having them walk through this big-ass office building all lost and shit… Jasmine hadn't lost her baby weight yet, and this little adventure wasn't doing her legs any favors.

"H-Hey, everyone! Please come in and take a seat. If you can't find any available seats, just take some from another room. I'll wait until you're all situated before I get to explaining everything for the job position." In Jasmine's opinion, a young man who was a little too young was dressed in a suit, which made Jasmine question the saying, "The suit makes the man." And not in a good way.

It took a few minutes until everyone was seated inside the large meeting room. The young man waited a little longer for the stragglers who were late to find their way in. With a nervous smile on his face, he clapped his hands as he got all of their attention. "I'm not really good at this speaking in front of a crowd thing, but I'll try my best." He admitted.

"So, you all are here for the job, right? The one promising a liveable wage, adventure, and excitement, something different from the dull, boring everyday 9-5 job?" He asked. "Ah, wai-" Before he could finish, some people cheered.

"Before I get into that, let me introduce myself. You can call me Ethan. I will be the person who pays you if you decide to go through with this job." Ethan swept his eyes across the crowd.

"Hey, Ethan." Some people decided to say at the same time.

"H-Hello." He was surprised. "Anyway, I have to apologize as I wasn't entirely honest about the job position." He bowed.

"So this whole thing was a fucking lie?" A man yelled.

"Kind of, but it depends on which part you consider a lie or not." Many people started to get angry in the crowd, grumbling. Some people even started to get up from their seats, ready to walk out.

"Wait! Before you go, at least hear me out! Please. If you want to leave after, please feel free. But let me tell you some stuff about the position first." Ethan begged.

The people stopped walking as they gave him a chance to talk. Ethan coughed to clear his throat before taking a deep breath. "Look, I get it. This probably sounds shady as hell, and I'm not here to pretend otherwise. But I won't waste your time with empty promises and shitty speeches. I was a shut-in just a while ago, and I know this isn't your typical job offer." He fidgeted. "The truth is, this gig isn't for everyone. It's not a standard 9-to-5 grind; it's unpredictable, and it involves things that most folks wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. If you're looking for normality and comfort, you might want to walk out that door." Some people did.

"But if you're at a point in life where you're fed up with the same old, same old, drowning in bills, and ready to take a risk, then hear me out. We're building an organization of unconventional thinkers, folks who don't mind bending the rules. We need adaptability, a willingness to face the unknown, and the ability to think on your feet." He glanced at the people leaving. "The pay is good, I won't lie. Way better than what 90% of jobs are offering for people with your experience and job history. This job is mainly for those people who desperately need money no matter what. But here's the deal. Our work requires discretion, so you'd need to keep your lips sealed. We operate outside the law. We're looking for people who can handle that type of thing and are willing to do whatever it takes for the bread." He honestly shared.

"To put it plainly, I'm asking you to join a criminal organization. You will get paid a sizeable cut based on how much we get from each job we accomplish until we manage to settle down and officially get our group off the ground. By that point, we'll be working in an hourly rate type of pay, which will be at the very least 25 dollars an hour but also will have higher requirements for future employees. Unless you passed college with a decent degree and impressive job history, you all most likely won't get the chance to work in an organization like this." Ethan held his chest. "Now, are there any questions for those who would like to continue?"

"Yeah, how much are we going to get fucking paid if we join now?" A large man questioned.

"It depends on the job and how much we get from the job. The usual commission rate is between 1% and 5%. So if we complete a job with a payout of over 100k, you'll be going home with 1,000 dollars or 5,000 dollars. I don't expect many of you to stay after hearing this was actually a gang recruitment, so that percentage might rise depending on how many I manage to convince." Ethan answered.

"What kind of jobs are we talking about here? Can you give us some examples of what we'd be doing?" A glasses-wearing lady asked.

"Extortion and protection rackets, organized theft and burglary, money laundering, possible racketeering, kidnapping and ransom, and organized violence," Ethan answered off the top of his head.

"Is this legal work? Are we going to be in trouble with the law?"

"N-No and yes." Ethan felt a little exasperated at that dumb question.

"You mentioned discretion. How serious are you about keeping things quiet? What happens if someone talks?"

"Well, I can't really stop you from talking now. However, if you join the group, things will be different. Many people's livelihoods will be at stake if someone talks." Ethan didn't directly answer the question.

"Are there any benefits or perks to this job, like health insurance or retirement plans?"

"Heh, no." Ethan chuckled at the absurd question.

"What kind of safety measures do you have in place to protect your employees?"

"None." Ethan honestly answered.

"How do we know we'll actually get paid? What if you decide not to pay us after a job?"

"Then I give you all full permission to beat me up and forcefully take your cut," Ethan responded.

"Do we have to provide our own equipment, or will that be provided?"

"If you can, it would be helpful, but you don't have to. It's your safety and pay on the line, not mine. I would advise you to buy a mask or things to help hide your identity."

"What's the long-term plan for this organization? Where do you see it going in the future?"

"Geez, I thought I was doing the interviewing… But to repeat, we plan to become a legitimate company in the near future." Ethan rubbed the back of his head.

He answered a few more questions from people who were surprisingly not turned off by the fact that they were joining an actual criminal group. Out of the large group that entered the room, a not-so-small portion remained and actually was on board with joining. Ethan jotted down their personal information on his phone to contact at a later date when a job was available. When everyone left the meeting room, he sighed as the mental exhaustion hit all at once. He slumped down in his chair, simply listening to the beat of his own heart. Did it say more about society that crime was more attractive than an honest job and even preferred compared to searching for one that doesn't go against the law?

Namgo · Nov 12, 2023

The small, dimly lit room was cloaked in darkness. A single lamp on the worn wooden table cast eerie flickering light on the man who sat there, his face hidden behind trembling hands. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead despite the chilly room. This man, who had once been eager to embrace an offer of a different life, now grappled with the weight of his own conscience. James had been one of the attendees at Ethan's recruitment meeting, seeking a way out of the constant struggle that had plagued his life. When he had first heard about the "job opportunity," it had sounded like the answer to his prayers. But as Ethan unfolded the reality of the job – a criminal organization operating outside the law – James's initial enthusiasm had withered.

As he sat in the shadows, James replayed that meeting in his mind. He had listened to Ethan's unsettling description of the organization's activities from the questions asked by the other people, and the growing sense of unease had made him squirm in his seat. He had hoped to find a way out of the perpetual cycle of bills and hardship, but the path Ethan offered wasn't something that he was interested in. While some had walked out, James had stayed, unsure of what he should do. Over the following days, the weight of his decision had grown heavier. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had unwittingly crossed a moral line. The more he thought about the criminal activities Ethan had described – extortion, organized theft, and worse – the more he realized he couldn't be a part of it. He couldn't hurt anybody. He's never been in a fight in his entire life! How could he become a criminal? No matter how good the money was, was it really worth it? A life of crime? Something he could never wash away?

But fear gripped him. Fear of the consequences of reporting this criminal organization to the police. Fear that he might become a target, a snitch, or worse. The paranoia ate away at him, but the guilt was even more insufferable. One sleepless night, unable to bear the burden any longer, James decided he had to act. He reached for his phone and began dialing the local police's non-emergency line. His heart pounded like a drum as he recounted the details of the recruitment meeting, providing Ethan's name and everything he knew about the organization. As he ended the call, he felt a mix of relief and dread. He had taken the first step, but he knew there was no turning back now. The authorities would investigate, and Ethan's criminal empire would be closely watched for.

The following days were a whirlwind of anxiety. James couldn't help but look over his shoulder, wondering if he was being watched. He was consumed by fear and panic. But deep down, he knew he had done the right thing. Reporting Ethan was the only way he could cleanse his conscience and, just maybe, protect others from the dark path he had nearly taken. With his heart pounding and his palms clammy, James made his way to the local police station after they asked if he was willing to come in as an anonymous source. The weight of his decision hung heavy over him, but he knew he couldn't live with the guilt any longer. He needed to expose Ethan's criminal organization for the safety of his own conscience and the community at large. Krey was almost clean, thanks to the efforts of those superheroes. Wouldn't it be messed up if it was ruined because of that gang? Krey needs to become better, not worse.

The police station loomed before him, a formidable structure that represented authority and justice. He took a deep breath, pushed open the glass doors, and entered the reception area. The cold air of the station sent a shiver down his spine, and he couldn't help but glance nervously around, half-expecting someone to recognize him. Approaching the front desk, he cleared his throat and addressed the officer on duty, a stern-looking woman with a badge that read "Officer Hernandez."

"Can I help you, sir?" Officer Hernandez asked, her tone professional yet inquisitive.

James felt a lump in his throat but managed to reply, "I was asked to come in as an anonymous source to give some more information." The officer gestured toward a nearby interview room. "Please, have a seat; a detective will be with you shortly."

He nodded his thanks and found a seat in the small, sterile room. The minutes ticked by, and James's anxiety continued to grow. He questioned whether he was doing the right thing, putting himself in a position where he could face retribution for snitching on a criminal organization. But Ethan said that nothing would happen to them if they left. It was his paranoia talking, making him afraid of invisible ghosts that weren't there. Soon, a middle-aged investigator with a stern expression entered the room, introducing himself as Detective Rodriguez. He sat across from James and placed a notepad and pen on the table.

"Please, go ahead and tell me what you'd like to report," Detective Rodriguez said, his voice calm and reassuring.

James took a deep breath and began to recount everything he knew about the recruitment meeting for Ethan's criminal organization. He shared the website where he had found the job ad, the email that had provided the office's address, and detailed Ethan's physical description. He described the office building layout and the large number of attendees who had gathered for the meeting.

As he spoke, Detective Rodriguez meticulously recorded his account, asking clarifying questions and showing a keen interest in the case. James also divulged much of what he had heard at the meeting, including the various criminal activities mentioned: extortion, organized theft, money laundering, kidnapping, and organized violence. The weight of his words hung in the air as he finished recounting his experience. Detective Rodriguez leaned back in his chair, absorbing the information. "Thank you for sharing this with us, Mr. Anonymous. Your cooperation is vital to our efforts to address criminal activities in the community."

James nodded, his face was the definition of relief. He knew that his life had taken a precarious turn, but he couldn't let the guilt of potentially enabling criminal behavior continue to eat at him. Detective Rodriguez assured James that they would conduct a thorough investigation into the matter and requested any additional information he might have. As the interview came to an end, James left the police station with a sense of both apprehension and the hope that he had done the right thing. He was on a path that could lead to justice and the dismantling of another criminal organization that was hoping to sink its terrible claws into Krey. His shoulders were no longer sunk and his spine was upright.

"Hmm. This is a lot more than I was expecting from you…" Poison flipped through the list of applicants with a small smile on her face.

Ethan did a background check on every applicant after receiving their personal information. Basically, he searched their names online and checked their social media accounts. It would help avoid situations in the future where if they decide the life of crime isn't for them and decide to tattle to enemy gangs or the police. By threatening them with knowledge of their personal lives, they will be less likely to do anything that would be against the group's interests.

"Ethan. I am very pleased by this sudden turn of usefulness from you." Poison turned to him, her eyelashes fluttering at him. "As a reward, I'll allow you to massage my feet. Keep proving yourself useful to me, and I'll reward you accordingly." Poison tossed her flip-flops off, revealing her light-green feet. Ethan's mother wasn't in the house, allowing her to walk around in her natural form.

Ethan sat on the floor before Poison, his palms beginning to sweat. She extended her legs, fully exposing her toes. He couldn't help but realize that he was starting to admire the unusual color of her skin. Taking one of her feet gently in his hands, he started with a slow, deliberate stroke along the arch, his fingers applying just the right amount of pressure. Poison let out a soft, pleased hum as she leaned back, her eyes half-lidded, savoring the sensation. Ethan's fingers moved with altering precision, kneading the tension away from the balls of her feet, then traveling along the slender curves of her instep. He noticed the delicate shape of her toenails, painted a shade that matched the unique hue of her skin.

He applied a bit more pressure, working his way to her heels, where he found knots of stress she ordered him to release. Ethan focused on his task, his hands moving in rhythmic, circular motions. The scent of her skin mixed with a hint of her perfume, creating an intoxicating atmosphere that made his heart race. As he continued, Ethan couldn't help but steal glances at Poison's expression. Her eyes remained half-closed, a sign that she was enjoying his inexperienced foot massage. She wasn't giving him a single thought unless to command him to focus on a certain spot here or there or tell him to massage harder or softer while massaging.

Time seemed to slow as Ethan lost himself in the act of massaging her feet. Before today, he thought feet were disgusting, and people who had feet fetishes were gross, but now… Well… Let's say don't judge a book by its cover until you've read it. The room was filled with the subtle sounds of his touch – the soft friction of his palms against her skin, her occasional sighs of pleasure, and the sound of the news playing in the background. Although Ethan was the one giving rather than receiving, he was feeling pretty pleased about this experience… When he finally finished, Poison withdrew her feet, a satisfied smile dancing on her lips. She stretched languidly, looking down at Ethan with a glint of amusement in her eyes.

Ethan's hands hung in the air for a moment, his yearning and desire still lingering. He wanted to continue. He wasn't finished touching her yet. But Poison kicked him across the room when he tried to go in for another round. He groaned from the pain of his aching jaw. "Don't forget your place, slave." Poison reminded him.

Namgo · Nov 18, 2023

Detective Rodriguez found himself in the heart of the bustling police precinct, a sea of activity swirling around him. He fixed his gaze upon the formidable stack of files and meticulous notes arranged before him, contemplating the weight of the critical information he had just received. The source? An anonymous tipster who had ventured into a fake job interview hosted by a mysterious new criminal organization. Detective Rodriguez wouldn't say he was one of the best detectives in the force, but he had enough successes under his belt that taking care of something like this wasn't too much to ask for. He would unveil the truth lurking behind this emerging criminal gang.

He dragged his mouse around as he clicked around on the well-known website for hosting job opportunities. He sighed in annoyance as he couldn't find a trace of the job ad. It seems like this mysterious Ethan is smarter than the average criminal, but, at the same time, he is not. The thought of posting a job ad to lure unsuspecting people was certainly unique. However, Ryan questioned why the hell this guy thought it was a smart idea to come clean to everyone at the place where this 'interview' took place. Maybe he had someone working with him in the background. From what the tipster remembered, Ethan said he was a shut-in before stepping into the life of organized crime, which made identifying him a whole hell of a lot harder and whoever may or may not be behind him. Detective Rodriguez held his hand in his face as he analyzed the email shared with him by the anonymous tipper.

Subject: Exclusive Enterprises - Your Job Interview

Dear James Pollington,

I hope this email finds you well. Thank you for expressing interest in the unique opportunity at Exclusive Enterprises. We've been thrilled by the incredible response we've received from candidates like you, all ready to break free from the ordinary and embark on an unconventional journey.

You've been selected for an interview, and we're excited to meet you. Our interview will take place at an office building located in Krey City, where we'll discuss the details of the job and how you can contribute to our extraordinary goals. The address for the interview is as follows:

XXXX Harborview Avenue, Krey City,

Date: Wednesday, December 15th, 20XX

Time: 2:30 PM

Our organization values adaptability, creativity, and an unconventional approach to life, and we believe that you could be an excellent fit for our team. Please come prepared to discuss your experiences, skills, and your willingness to embrace a life less ordinary. Even if you lack experience, we're open to considering fresh perspectives and untapped potential. If you have any questions or concerns leading up to the interview, please do not hesitate to respond to this email, and we'll be happy to assist you.

Thank you for taking this exciting step with us. We look forward to meeting you and exploring how we can collaborate on extraordinary ventures together.

Warm regards,

Exclusive Enterprises

Krey City, hr@exclusiveenterprises.com

Detective Rodriguez sat at his desk, engrossed in his thoughts, surrounded by the clutter of case files and notes that had become his constant companions. The weight of the critical information he'd received bore down on him, leaving a troubled expression etched on his face. He had just reviewed the email from "Exclusive Enterprises" for what felt like the hundredth time, searching for any hidden clues or connections that might lead him closer to the emerging criminal gang. Deep in contemplation, he furrowed his brow, and a familiar voice pierced through the quiet of the precinct. It was his co-worker and good friend, Detective Michael Turner. Michael strode by Detective Rodriguez's cubicle and slapped him upside his head after seeing the look on his face.

He stopped beside Detective Rodriguez's desk and leaned in, eyeing his troubled friend with a mixture of concern and impatience. "Ryan, my man, I hate to break it to you, but you're not going to solve this case by wearing a hole through your chair and staring at that screen all day. You've got to get out there and shake things up!" Detective Rodriguez looked up, frustrated by Michael's sudden assault and the possible truth in his words. He knew Michael was right, but the case details confused him. "I know, Mike, it's just... this case, it's a real puzzle. I can't tell if the criminal behind it is a dumbass or a clever son of a bitch, and I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this case."

Michael nodded, acknowledging the complexity of the situation. "Look, I get it, Ryan. But sometimes, you've got to trust your instincts and hit the streets. Talk to people, follow leads, and make your presence felt. You're one of our best detectives, which means you can't afford to be glued to your desk. Get out there, ask questions, and turn over every stone until you find the answers you're looking for." Detective Rodriguez appreciated his friend's pep talk and the reminder that he had the skills and intuition to crack the case. He straightened up in his chair, determination returning to his eyes. "You're right, Mike. I can't let this case slip through the cracks. I'll head out and start digging deeper, talk to the anonymous tipster again, and see where it leads."

Michael clapped a reassuring hand on Detective Rodriguez's shoulder. "That's the spirit! I'll be here if you need backup or a sounding board. Now, go out there and show them why Krey's police department is better than some snot-nosed damn kid heroes."

With newfound resolve, Detective Rodriguez rose from his desk, ready to take on the challenge ahead. Michael's words reignited his determination to unravel the mystery behind Exclusive Enterprises and bring the emerging criminal gang to justice. He ventured to the address furnished by the informant, fully aware that his pursuit might prove fruitless. However, he recognized that in his line of work, some mysteries could only be unraveled through traditional legwork. With purposeful strides, he made his way to the nondescript office building shared by the anonymous source.

Upon his arrival, the unassuming exterior of the office building betrayed no overt signs of criminal activity. Detective Rodriguez entered the building only to realize it was completely empty. There were no signs of life inside this building, and when he searched up who owned the building, he found it was owned by some company that was holding on to it for leasing purposes. This realization did not help in his pursuit of the truth and frankly seemed to be a waste of time. He made a mental note to keep the location under vigilant surveillance in case Ethan planned to use it again in the future.

He engaged with fellow officers and confidential informants who possessed intimate knowledge of Krey's shadowed underbelly. The collective murmurings and hushed rumors painted a picture of absolutely nothing. They had no street cred whatsoever, and no one knew who they were or if they even had a name yet. Detective Rodriguez understood that he had only scratched the surface of this case. Nevertheless, his commitment to unraveling the truth remained unwavering. The inexorable ticking of the clock served as a reminder that time was of the essence. The safety of Krey and the welfare of its residents hinged upon his determination and the relentless pursuit of justice. The detective's pursuit was but in its infancy.

Whatever this Ethan had planned, he was going to show it very soon. Detective Rodriguez knew that something big was coming and shared with his fellow officers to keep their heads up. Ethan wouldn't have been recruiting new members for his criminal organization for no reason. Krey's police department was going to be ready for it, whatever it was.

Jasmine's apartment seemed to close in on her as she paced through the lit-up rooms, her heart pounding in her chest. The weight of her impending decision bore down on her like an anchor, threatening to drag her under. She had taken the difficult step of leaving her two children at her mother's house for the night, after she received a message from Ethan saying they had a job tonight. As she moved from room to room, Jasmine tried to mentally prepare for the upcoming job. She knew very little about the details, only that she should show up with something that could break stuff and something to hide her identity. She couldn't afford to fail; her children's future depended on her success. With every step, she felt the weight of responsibility and guilt pressing on her shoulders, threatening to break her resolve.

In her bedroom, she opened a drawer and pulled out a pink ski mask she had bought right after agreeing to join Ethan's group. Pink was cuter than black, okay? Jasmine hadn't even touched it save for unboxing it and hiding it in her underwear drawers. Her trembling fingers traced its soft sides, and she couldn't help but wonder how her life had come to this point. She had always done her best to provide for her children. Working tirelessly, five days out of the week, to feed, clothe, and ensure they had the latest thing they needed for school. But being fired for a fault that wasn't even hers had driven her to this path. The kind of money she needs to raise two growing children isn't something she can get by sending in job applications to places like Harvest Delights or a fast food joint.

Jasmine then moved to the living room, where a baseball bat lay on the coffee table. She kept it in the house in case anyone ever tried to break in. To protect herself and the kids. But now, she was going to use it to protect their futures in a different way… But Jasmine knew she was just deluding herself. Jasmine couldn't shake the fear deep inside that gnawed at her. What if something went wrong? What if she was caught? What if her children were left without a mother? But with each doubt, she reminded herself of the reason she had taken this path. It was for Imani and Malik, for their future. For the chance to give them a better life than the one she had known.

As Jasmine finished preparing, she couldn't help but glance at herself in the small bathroom mirror. The reflection staring back at her was a thick woman adorned in a dark, stylish coat paired with a curiously contrasting ski mask. She let out a laugh as she looked at herself. "I look like a damn fool…" She gave a sullen smile. "A sexy one at least…"

The mask made her look like some absurd criminal from a comedy crime movie, but she had no choice. The anonymity it provided was a desperate necessity. She adjusted it one last time, ensuring that her face was entirely hidden, except for her eyes so that she could see with the damn thing. "Okay, kids, Mommy's gotta go play criminal for a bit," she whispered, her reflection in the mirror. Her words were a feeble attempt to lighten the mood, but the reality was far from comedic. She was a single mother forced into a life of crime, not for the thrill but for her children's chance at a better life.

She whispered a silent prayer for herself, then made her way out of the apartment, steeling herself for the unknown challenges that lay ahead. Jasmine knew that she was willing to wade through hell itself if it meant providing a better life for Imani and Malik. Her children will live a better life than she did growing up.

Namgo · Nov 19, 2023

Jasmine's heart raced as she arrived at the address sent to her phone by the unlisted number she knew belonged to her employer, Ethan. The scene before her was a mix of anxiety and uncertainty. People milled about, some already wearing masks, while others clutched various tools and weapons. The gravity of her decision to join their ranks weighed heavily on her as she realized there was no turning back. She was now a part of this life of crime, all for the sake of ensuring her children's future.

Amidst the nervous tension, a friendly young man in the group waved in Jasmine's direction. "Yo. Welcome, Pinky," he greeted, his voice welcoming. "Ready to take the plunge into the world of big bad criminals? You look a bit jittery, like fresh meat." He chuckled.

Jasmine, unimpressed by his antics and not wanting to make herself look weak, crossed her arms and retorted, "Boy, shut up. I'm old enough to be your mama. Don't mess with me." Undeterred, the young man flashed a confident smile. "Whoa, Pinky. I'm just trying to help you settle down. I doubt the boss is going to make us do anything too scary on our first night out. We all went through the same interview, right?" He glanced around at the group, receiving confirming nods. "So, we're good to go. I mean, our boss doesn't strike me as the type to even jaywalk," he added, his nonchalant shrug conveying his sense of assurance.

Curiosity spread among the group, and one of the recruits inquired, "And who are you, exactly?" "You can call me Ricky! Since we're all criminals, I figured it would be better not to use our real names," Ricky replied with a playful grin. "You, girl with the glasses, what's your alias?" His finger guns pointed toward a young woman with glasses, perched on the edge of her nose.

"Natalie," she replied, pushing her glasses up.

"Short and sweet, huh? Cute. Pinky, your turn," Ricky encouraged.

Jasmine corrected her name, saying, "Pinkie is fine… with an 'ie' and not a 'y.'" Ricky playfully whistled and teased, "Oooh, sexy," leaving Jasmine to roll her eyes. Turning his attention to a silent, imposing figure, he probed, "Tall, dark, and probably handsome, what about you?"

"Just call me Jake," he gruffly responded.

"The Big Bad Jakester! Cool with me. Hottie with the RBF, what about you?" Ricky grinned.

In a voice tinged with irritation, she replied, "Call me Butterfly," her arms crossed in defiance.

"Pretty name. I don't know if it matches your face, though," Ricky commented, earning a fierce glare from Butterfly. She tightened her brass-knuckled fists in response.

"Heh, nice one, Princess," A girl with piercings and purple hair chuckled. Butterfly glanced in her direction but chose not to engage. "You can refer to me as Queeny. With a 'y,'" she declared, casting a brief glance at Jasmine.

"M-M-My name is Tyler, but you can call me Ty, i-if you want…" a frail young man stammered.

"Ty, you do not seem like the type for organized crime, lil bro. What got you into this job, man?" Ricky asked, saying what everyone else was thinking.

"I-I need the money…" Ty replied, his eyes darting nervously around the room.

Ricky sighed in understanding, emphasizing, "Don't we all, man? This economy is messed up, yo. I can't even buy groceries without having to think about whether eating is worth not being able to pay my rent."

"Ain't that the truth…" Jasmine nodded.

"I just thought this would be interesting. It'd be way better than working some boring 9-to-5 job, working myself to death for the rest of my life. At least with this, I get some excitement, I get some damn good money, and I get to live my life the way I want. If this works out, I don't see myself ever working a normal job again," Queeny's eyes gleamed with enthusiasm as she gazed at her potential future, embodying the mix of joy, excitement, and newness that hung in the air.

As the group of would-be criminals got to know each other somewhat, Ethan eventually arrived in the room with a pistol in hand and a small white fox on his shoulder. Causing most of the new recruits to scream when he turned to them. "Oh, uh, sorry." He put the gun away in his inner pocket. "I was making sure no one sold us out and informed the police about the meet-up place. Like I said before, I'm still pretty new at this whole criminal stuff. Anyway, uh, are you guys ready for our first heist?" He put on a strained smile to no one's response. "Right. I get it. It's a big uh step for most people. Diving into this sort of stuff. It was for me and still is. But the money. It makes you more accepting of certain things…" He nervously chuckled.

"Anyway, this is Jinx. Don't mind her, she's just going to be our group's mascot. A good luck charm." He explained the fox. "Follow me and get all your stuff. And uh, please take off your masks for now. You'll have time to put them on when we are outside the place. We don't wanna attract any attention before we even get there." Ethan kindly asked.

Everyone did as he asked and followed him outside. They saw the huge white van crudely marked Krey At News on the side as a disguise. Ethan escorted them all inside, with most having to bunch up in the back next to one another. He started up the van, and they were off to their first heist as criminals.

Ethan took a deep breath. He actually got his driving license to better help Poison out. It was a lot easier than he thought it would be. He was freaking out the entire time about the driving portion test, but they didn't really do anything but drive around. Ethan did have to answer some Test Your Knowledge type questions and perform some basic driving maneuvers, but all in all, nothing major unless you suck at being tested and don't study/practice for it.

It kind of made Ethan hate himself for never putting in the time actually to get a driver's license in high school. Only people without a driver's license will understand that having a driver's license is way more convenient for any citizen. In high school, you can drive anywhere you want without having to ask for your parents' permission or for them to drive you. You can meet up with friends without having to ask. You can go to places on your own at the drop of a hat if the mood fits. Dates, movies, hangouts, eating, fun, and pretty much anything. Especially working as well. Not having to rely on public transportation is a huge advantage when thinking about jobs.

Who knew doing things instead of procrastinating for most of your life was better for you than not? Ethan chuckled at the thought that was pretty much common sense. People should spend time every day or at least most of the week exercising, but how many people actually can do that? Not many. Why not, it's good for you. Because working out is hard and time-consuming, and a majority of people are lazy. Ethan is included in this despite working for Poison. If she ordered him to, he'd probably do it. But for now, he's fine with relying on the pistol she gave him. Given the choice between a pistol or working out every day for the rest of his life, Ethan will unhesitantly choose the pistol 100% of the time.

While Ethan may be improving himself piece by piece, that doesn't mean, at his core, he still isn't the lazy disgusting piece of shit he was before meeting Poison. If Poison suddenly left his life, he was certain that he would go back to being the person he was. That empty, soulless husk of a leech only being kept alive by his mother's questionable but overflowing love for him. He wasn't delusional enough to think that just because Poison was changing his life for the better, he was changing in a positive manner. Ethan was still the same person he was a couple of months ago. It's just now he has drive. He has motivation. He has something pushing him to do better.

As he sat at the red light, Ethan began to caress Jinx's fluffy fur. His fingers moved with practiced precision, tracing the contours of her elegant foxy figure. It hadn't always been this harmonious between them. In the beginning, It took many painful bites before Ethan learned how Jinx liked to be pampered. She was a very particular daemon, with a distinct set of preferences that could change from day to day, like a spoiled princess.

As his fingers worked their magic, Jinx arched her back, her contented sighs intensifying. Ethan's touch seemed to hit all the right spots, and the once-mischievous gleam in Jinx's eyes now transformed into one of pure bliss. Her lush fox tail flicked in delight, brushing against Ethan's hand as if to allow him to continue.

Namgo · Nov 25, 2023

Inside the dimly lit van, the atmosphere was visibly heavy. Its occupants, a motley crew of soon-to-be criminals, prepared for their first heist. Their faces were masked, and tools and weapons were stowed haphazardly around them. Jasmine tried to muster a façade of composure. Her gaze alternated between the baseball bat beside her and the weapons of her criminal friends – comrades in crime? Gangster peers? Fingers of anxiety gripped her heart, but for her children's sake, she refused to back out now. Not that she actually could. She didn't think she could back out now. Ethan had made it clear that once they started, there was no turning back. Her thoughts raced as she remembered the personal information she had unintentionally shared with him. Her address, phone number, her full name – all laid bare for a man she barely knew. She unconsciously leaned in closer to the timid figure beside her.

Ty, a nervous young man with a pallid complexion, huddled in the corner of the van. His jacket zipper became a plaything for his jittery fingers. He couldn't help but shake like a vibrating phone. "Please get off of me," he politely requested, his voice trembling with unease.

"Sorry, baby," Jasmine replied, righting herself as she tried to wear a brave facade. Meanwhile, Butterfly, donning a hot pink ski mask emblazoned with the words, 'Yes Daddy?' on the front, cast an impassive sidelong glance in their direction. "Quit talking. It's hot enough in here," she commented, her tone curt.

Queeny, with a purple bunny balaclava, exuded an air of anxious enthusiasm. She played with one of the bunny ears on her mask and remarked, "Chill out, guys. It's just like a movie, only with real-life consequences. No biggie, right?" Her sarcasm, though well-intentioned, did little to help relax the others, who simply exchanged uneasy glances. Jake remained silent, his hands methodically running up and down the straps of his duffle bag. His gaze remained inscrutable, and the crowbar in his lap occasionally caught the moonlight, making it glisten menacingly.

"Are you all excited? Our first night as virgin criminals? I know I can't wait to see our pay from whatever we're about to do," Ricky chuckled, his tone far too cheery for the situation.

"Ricky shut it," Butterfly admonished.

"Chill, Butterfly. I'm just trying to help y'all relax," Ricky said, raising his hands in a non-threatening manner.

"It isn't working. So, I agree with Butterfly. Shush, boy," Jasmine added.

"Fine, I can tell when I'm outgunned," Ricky backed off and quieted down.

Ethan cast a watchful eye over the group through the rearview mirror. His expression held a hint of uncertainty, a vulnerability he tried to mask with resolve. Clearing his throat, he attempted to project an air of authority as he addressed his team. "Alright, folks, we're here. I'm going to tell you the plan, and feel free to ask any questions on your mind." Everyone turned their ears up as they listened closely to Ethan. "We're going to go in, we're going to snatch what we can, and then we're going to get out. You only have ninety seconds to grab what you can. At ninety seconds, you need to be in the van, or you will be left behind. I don't really care what you have in your pockets or bag at the time. If you're not in here by ninety seconds, you'll need to find your own way back," Ethan spoke to them in a serious tone.

"Why ninety seconds?" Queeny asked.

"You cannot spend more than ninety seconds doing a heist unless you want to be caught. This rule is normally for bank robberies, but I figured it should work for other crimes as well. All we're doing is smashing and grabbing. Nothing more, nothing less. We're not hurting anybody, and insurance companies will insure the stuff we're stealing. Don't overthink it. Just smash and grab," Ethan reassured them.

As their heads nodded, they clutched their weapons. "Alright, let's go make some bread, people. Follow me," Ethan said as he got out of the van, leading the group of highly 'inconspicuous' criminals behind him. Once they reached the locked doors, Ethan pulled out a small vial of bubbling green liquid. He covered his nose and poured it on the glass. They watched as it dissolved the glass, creating an opening for them. He tossed the vial before applying another to the second set of locked doors behind the first.

"Come on. Get to smashing and get to grabbing now. Ninety seconds is in effect now," Ethan reminded them while speaking in hushed tones.

The group squeezed their way in before smashing the glass displays where the jewelry was sitting. Ethan knew that the silent alarm had already been tripped, and he quickly made his way to the back where the store's safe was located. It didn't take much searching, fortunately. A large safe sat in the manager's office, or whoever's office this was in the back. "Your humble servant requests your amazing services, Jinx." Ethan politely requested the daemon fox after ensuring no one was behind him and no cameras were present.

Jinx softly yipped, content at his submissive behavior, as a portal appeared underneath the safe, leading to his bedroom. He considered following the safe through the portal but remembered Poison's strict warning against revealing their abilities to normal humans. Ethan returned to the front of the store, pondering the existence of daemons like Poison and Jinx. Were they normal? How many more daemons were out there? Did the government know about them? What kept them from wreaking havoc on humanity? If Ethan couldn't find a way to convince Poison not to harm him, he'd be defenseless against her incredible power.

Ethan made it back to the driver's seat and waited for the others. He didn't have to wait long, as they followed him out of the store. Their bags were bulging with gold, diamonds, rings, necklaces, earrings, bracelets, watches, and all sorts of valuable-looking items. When the ninety-second timer on his phone went off, Ethan drove off without looking back, just as he had promised. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw everyone accounted for but looking far more frazzled than they did when they had left.

Ethan put up a divider between the front seat and the back of the van. He asked Jinx to create a portal to take them back to the hideout. With a lazy glance toward Ethan, Jinx yipped, and a portal large enough to swallow the van appeared in front of them as Ethan continued driving. He drove through the portal and abruptly hit the brakes when he found himself about to crash into an abandoned building. "S-Sorry about that, guys! Come on out, let's see how much we managed to get, and I'll explain some things for you," Ethan apologized.

Ethan led the group inside as they presented their loot, which was now piled up into a dazzling, almost blinding mound of riches. Gold formed the resplendent base, casting a warm, inviting glow. Diamonds and other precious gemstones added fiery shards of light, creating beautiful patterns on the walls. Sapphires, emeralds, rubies, amethysts, and a myriad of other jewels added vibrant splashes of color to the treasure trove. The pile was a mesmerizing fusion of riches, a dazzling spectacle that left them breathless. In its presence, the criminal crew's initial shock gave way to a chorus of gasps and exclamations. Some stared wide-eyed, their breath momentarily stolen by the sheer magnitude of the wealth amassed before them. Others couldn't resist reaching out to touch the shimmering bounty, their fingers tracing the edges of riches beyond their wildest dreams.

Jasmine, her heart pounding with a mix of disbelief and exhilaration, couldn't help but let out an awestruck whisper. "Is this... is this real?" Ty, still trembling from the adrenaline rush of their heist, stammered in disbelief. "I've never seen so much money in my life." Butterfly frowned as the reality of her situation finally hit. "So, this is what it feels like to be a criminal." Queeny, her enthusiasm infectious, clapped her hands in delight. "It feels amazing, Butterfly! We can literally do anything we want with all of this!" Jake, a rare glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes, simply nodded in agreement, his gruff exterior momentarily softened by the glittering sight. Ricky couldn't contain his excitement. "We're rich, you bastards! We're freaking rich!"

Ethan knew he had to address a pressing concern. "I don't want to rain on your parade, guys, but I can't let you take all this home. The cops are going to be on the lookout for people trying to sell jewelry or people suddenly toting jewelry on social media or just in everyday life. But before you get too down. I'll do the hard work of converting all of this into actual cash for you all to bring home, but it'll take me a few business days. This is a lot of stuff to change into money, and it's more difficult than you'd think to sell. The cops are going to be looking everywhere for this stuff, but they can't find it if I turn it into cold, hard cash. Are there any questions?"

"When should we expect to be paid?" Butterfly questioned.

"A week or two if I'm lucky. But I will keep you all updated, and if it takes longer than expected, you will receive more than you normally would because that would be my fault, not yours. Is everyone fine with that?" Ethan made eye contact with them all.

"What if I really need the money now?" Jasmine spoke up, her rent was due soon, and she knew her landlord wouldn't accept giving her an extension.

"Well, I can pay you ahead of time if it's an emergency, but the amount you were entitled to will be reduced. Is that okay? The pay you were going to receive will be cut by the amount you need now. If your share was higher than what you're asking for, you'll just receive a smaller cut than the others, but if it's lower, you will owe me the difference," Ethan explained.

"Yeah, I really need it for my rent," Jasmine replied, realizing she had no other option unless she wanted to risk being evicted. Her landlord did not give a shit that she was a single mother with two kids.

"Alright. Everyone else, you may return home. Don't forget to take off your masks and collect your belongings. We won't be coming back here next time," Ethan waved at the others and gestured for Jasmine to come closer. "How much do you need?" he asked.

"Fifteen hundred," Jasmine answered.

"Alright, hold on." Ethan reached into an unseen pocket and then requested, "Can you turn around for a moment? Just for a moment."

Jasmine complied, and she heard a strange sound she couldn't quite describe. When Ethan told her she could turn around again, he handed her a stack of cold-hard cash. The fat stack of cash dominated her thoughts, and she didn't question where he had hidden it. Jasmine waved goodbye and shoved the money into her coat before clutching her baseball bat and making her way to her car. Holding onto such a large sum of money was a terrifying experience she hadn't anticipated. The money she usually held was in her bank account. It was a new experience holding this much freaking money...

Namgo · Nov 26, 2023

Within the massive stadium, Ethan and Poison settled into their seats, surrounded by a sea of enthusiastic fight fans. The arena was electrified with excitement. The atmosphere in the air sent shivers down the people's spines as they found their places. The stadium was renowned for hosting the best fights, and tonight was no different. Fans of all ages and backgrounds had gathered to witness the thrilling spectacle. Banners and flags bearing the names and slogans of their favorite fighters infested the venue. In the front rows, friends and family of the competing fighters exchanged excited chatter, their faces reflecting a mix of pride and anticipation. Among the thousands of spectators, Ethan and Poison blended seamlessly, two more faces in the enthusiastic crowd.

The stadium was alive with excitement as the audience eagerly awaited the fighters' entrances. The large screen suspended above the ring displayed a live feed of the backstage area, where the fighters made their final preparations. Ethan and Poison were mere spectators on this grand stage, fully engaged in the collective buzz of the audience. The atmosphere around them crackled with joy, each person in the crowd eager to witness the upcoming battle.

"Is it alright for me to ask why we're here?" Ethan finally gained the courage to ask.

Being in public wasn't really his idea for being discreet when they were wanted criminals. Well, they weren't wanted, but they were wanted in a way? Like, no one knew they were behind the latest crime spree of burglary, but still. It would be better for them not to be out and about, right? At least, he thought so.

"Do you see that human on the big screen?" Poison asked.

Even a pointless waste of oxygen, like Ethan, knew who Zoey Winters was. He couldn't escape the reaches of her reputation, even in the solace of his online games or with his favorite Beetubers. Ethan had no choice but to do some research on the girl. It turned out she was just some famous fighter. Well, she was more than just some famous fighter… Zoey was a girl! A female fighter that was outshining any other male fighter her age because Ethan only knew about Zoey and didn't know shit about any other fighter in her generation. Male or female.

Seeing her up on the big screen made him really confused, though. She looked tough, but she was tiny as hell. Zoey had the muscles of a fighter, the demeanor of a bad bitch, and she was definitely black. Ethan was surprised by how often Zoey's race came up when people talked about her online. But then again, it was the internet, so not really.

"Yes." Ethan would have to be blind not to see one of the reasons that everyone showed up here.

"She ruined my life and nearly got me killed." Poison calmly shared.

She turned her head slightly, her gaze fixed on the enormous screen where Zoey Winters, the object of her deep-seated resentment, was being celebrated by the masses as she walked toward the ring. Ethan could feel the anger dripping from Poison, even though she looked like she was in complete control of her emotions. Poison's posture stiffened, her grip on her armrest becoming a vice, and her jaw clenched with an intensity that could shatter diamonds. The atmosphere, once crackling with excitement, seemed to warp around Poison. For a brief moment, everything faded into insignificance for Ethan. The banners, the cheers, the very air itself were swallowed by the vortex of Poison's seething anger. Sensing the storm brewing within her, he dared not utter another word. He could almost taste the bubbling fury radiating from Poison. Poison's eyes remained fixed on Zoey, her gaze an icy dagger slicing through the ecstatic atmosphere. Her silence spoke volumes, an unforgiving rage that needed no words to convey its depth. It was a promise of retribution, a silent vow to settle the score with the girl on the big screen.

"Want to expand on that a little more, or…" Ethan hesitated to ask.

Poison answered his question with silence. Ethan did not follow up despite being incredibly curious about how a superstar fighter was capable of ruining a monster's life and nearly killing them. He knew she was capable of clawing through steel and using poisonous acid to melt glass. How did a boxer beat a monster that can do some shit like that? Maybe daemons aren't tougher than normal humans, and Zoey snuck up on her from behind or something? But then that brings up the question of why the hell would someone as famous as Zoey Winters attack Poison. Could it be that Poison tried to attack Zoey but failed because she's a great fighter?

That didn't make sense either. Zoey would be dead if she was a regular boxer. No matter how talented a person is at fighting. Poison had claws that could cut through steel and actual poison on her side. All she would have needed to do was flick some drops of it on Zoey, and her skin would be melting. So, it couldn't have been that Poison attacked Zoey. It only made sense that Zoey, for some reason or another, snuck attack Poison. And somehow was successful to the point where Poison believes her life was ruined and she was nearly killed? No, no, no… Ethan was missing an important part of the puzzle. He just didn't know what.

Ethan's mental focus was forcefully taken away as he stared at the match in the ring. His eyes focused on Zoey's masterful agility and defense. He didn't know the first thing about fighting, but as a man, he could tell when someone was a fucking badass and when something was cool as shit. That redneck guy couldn't land a finger on Zoey. She was running circles around him while he swung away like a crazy bull.

Briefly, it made Ethan reconsider his imaginative thoughts earlier with Zoey not being able to stand up against Poison. She was quick and agile. Maybe it would be possible for her to avoid Poison's claws, but at the same time, it didn't address the poison part. Ethan couldn't think of a single person who was able to avoid multiple flying droplets of something. It'd be like trying to dodge rain!

Then, the match took a turn for the awesome as the third round started. Ethan and Poison silently watched Zoey beat a grown man into curdling up like a baby in the fetal position. Ethan wasn't a person who liked violence unless it involved video games or violence in like cartoons or movies. But something about the way Zoey fought at the end of the match lit something up inside of him. Of course, he didn't show Poison one ounce of this, considering her massive hate for the girl. If Poison hated her, so did Ethan!

Poison had them leave the fight early compared to everyone else. Right when it was certain that Zoey had won the match. Poison still hasn't said a word ever since he asked her about how Zoey supposedly ruined her life and nearly killed her. In fact, it wasn't until Jinx appeared when they left the venue and portal'd home that Poison spoke to him again.

Her feet rested on top of his back as he served as her foothold in front of the television in his room. On the television was a sports channel gushing about Zoey's brutal finish and first loss of her career. Ethan could hear her nails piercing through her own skin as she clenched it hard enough to draw blood. Acidic burning blood that terrifyingly dripped next to his body. It was at this point that Ethan realized that Poison hated hated Zoey Winters. What a shame… He liked her as a fighter.

"Ethan. There aren't only daemons in this world. There also exists another species that exists to kill daemons like me." Poison revealed. "Zoey Winters is part of these species. They are called Magjistars. Completely identical to humans except for the fact that they can wield magji, just like daemons. Although in a different manner but all the same, really." A bubbling green orb floated above Poison's palm.

Her blood was being drawn into this poisonous ball of magji. "She is one of the strongest Magjistars in this part of the world, and I attempted to hunt her in the past but failed horribly. I had never been so humiliated before in my life before that day. After that day, I promised to kill her for what she did to me. But, at the time, I didn't realize the massive potential she held compared to other Magjistars her age. If I had, perhaps, I never would've bothered her. I would've left the country and started anew somewhere else. But I've lost too much to give up at this point. Zoey's existence is now tied to my own strength as a Daemon of Poison. I cannot progress in my strength and grow stronger until I finally kill her, no matter how many humans or Magjistars I devour. I'm on the cusps of being a Daemon King, you know? I only need one more step to make it to the realm of legends. But that one step feels infinitely far away, all because she casts a deep shadow within my magji shard. It's stuffy. I hate it with all of my being. It's illogical that someone like me would be so caught up in my emotions. Yet, I also learned of some of my faults because of her. I learned more about myself due to my constant defeats at her hand. In another way, I'm only as strong as I am now because of her." Poison revealed her inner heart to Ethan. "It's strange, isn't it?"

"T-They say what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger…" Ethan hesitantly spoke up.

"I suppose that's true, isn't it?" Poison absorbed the ball of poison in her palm.

"People need opposition to adapt and grow; otherwise, they'll become stagnant and predictable." Ethan quoted stuff he's seen in cartoons.

"..." Poison glanced at his pathetic figure, nothing more than a stool for her feet at the moment.

This slave wasn't so useless when it came to using his brain. She wished she didn't have to gradually force this usefulness out of him instead of him showing it at the beginning of their relationship as Master and Slave. If he did, perhaps she wouldn't be so disgusted with his overflowing sense of lust toward her. But a useful slave, even with his flaws, still had use to her.

"Massage my feet, Slave." Poison decided to reward him for his behavior as of late.

"Yes, Poison…" Ethan gently grasped her feet as he began to put into work the tips he'd memorized online for massaging.

AN: The 200th chapter of this novel is coming up pretty soon. Give me some ideas on a special chapter you guys would love to read!

Namgo · Dec 2, 2023

Ethan passed the time counting the dollar dollar bills they'd managed to gain over the course of their developing criminal organization. Mindlessly flicking through each bill, stacking it in one pile till it couldn't handle the weight of itself before moving on to making the following stack. The small light of his lamp and the screensaver of his triple monitors were the only sources of light in his room. Usually, he would be gaming or just mindlessly dragging his mouse around while exploring the internet, but recently, he's gotten into the habit of counting money to relax his mind.

Money was a beautiful, ugly thing. It was unfortunate he couldn't convert this to digital money yet. A lot of games need players to use digital money instead of real money for additional services while playing. Battle passes, season passes, premium currency, none of that could be bought with cold hard cash. If Ethan wanted to be dramatic, the current age of gaming was nothing but a curse to a criminal like him with nothing but real money and no digital money. All these stacks of green, but they couldn't help him where it mattered most.

Although it was a shame for the most part, Ethan could still buy the latest games that were out. If they had any DLC or additional services, he was pretty fucked. Although Ethan hasn't really been in the gaming mood ever since he got caught up in the crime life stuff. It's been taking up a lot of his time. Especially finding ways to convert the jewelry into cash for his employees.

Thankfully, he got that over and done with. Now, he just had to think of their next heist after he paid these people. But to be honest, Ethan's mind was still going in circles about the fact that most of his life, he was living a lie. Monsters called Daemons were real. Daemons that ate humans for sustenance or for fun? Ethan noticed that Poison ate human food without a problem. She did have a preference for cooked meat, but besides that, he hadn't noticed her leaving the house to hunt for humans or whatever. His mom hasn't said anything about her leaving the house frequently or at all.

Supposedly, these Magjistars hunted daemons to protect humans from being eaten. Ethan didn't know if they were a division of the government or just their own secret group doing what was right. He really wasn't in the questioning mood after being able to massage Poison's feet and legs. It was an improvement if you asked him. At first, he could only touch her feet, but now she let him move up to her lower legs! But now, he wasn't doing something that could potentially help him out later. He was just alone with his thoughts and stacks of money on his bed.

It hasn't really sunk in yet, but he's really working for the bad guys for the chance of Daemon pussy. Turning his back on his own race just for the smallest chance of tapping that daemonic monster's green tight ass. Putting it like that really helps Ethan realize that he may be a piece of shit. Ethan wasn't going to lie to himself. Before meeting Poison, he knew he was a waste of space and a waste of life that wouldn't accomplish anything in his lifetime. But now… Sure, it went against everything he should be doing as a human but hey, monster pussy?

How many people could genuinely say they managed to tap another sapient species in the universe? Imagine if Ethan could get that on his list before he passes away. It'd be an achievement! Plus, what if their species were compatible enough to create hybrids between humans and daemons? Ethan sighed.

He was trying to delude himself. That what he was doing would be worth foregoing his own species and making up for the crimes he has done and will do in the future. At the end of the day, Ethan is doing nothing but listening to his heart or his dick. For some reason, he really couldn't tell which one was whispering to him that following Poison down this dark path would be worth going against his morals as a human being. But whichever one it was, it was really insistent that all of this would be worth it. His brain, which has been so deprived of anything resembling physical or emotional pleasure, couldn't even retort against his heart and manhood.

Trapping himself in the house with his mother doesn't give him a lot of chances to meet with other people. Friends, a girlfriend, just sharing his interests and hobbies with others was borderline impossible unless he went on some online forum and gushed with strangers over the internet. While it temporarily helped, at the end of the day, those people would never be someone he could rely on to relieve him of that specific pleasure. Ethan needed to take his mind off this depressing spiral he was going down.

He sent a message to the employees who helped him in the jewelry heist and told them payday was soon. Of course, he used a messaging app that gave him a virtual phone number completely different from his personal phone number. Ethan sent them the address to another abandoned place he found, along with the date. He's been cruising around the city searching for unused buildings to use as meeting places. It wasn't like he could invite them to his house. There were hundreds of issues with doing something stupid like that. The fact that they and those people who came to the interview knew his face was already a big enough risk.

Then he got up and left the house. "Where are you going?" His mother asked him on his way out. "For a walk." He replied. Ethan saw his mother's eyes briefly glance toward the guest room where Poison was before replying back to him. "Alright, come back soon. It's getting dark." She went back to making dinner.

Ethan grasped where the pistol and vials of poison were hidden in his coat as he made his way out of the house and down the street. He was still afraid of using the gun, but it provided a sense of protection for Ethan. Putting in his earbuds, Ethan walked down the street while bumping his head to the music, clearing his mind of any thoughts as he took in the sights of winter in the city. Blankets of snow, cars passing by, and large giant buildings, Ethan simply took in the sights of the world.

After spending half an hour walking around in the biting cold chill, Ethan made his way home, fed up with the coldness of the air. On his way back, he encountered a young homeless woman shaking a cup of coins. Ethan silently glanced at her, stopping in front of her. She was dressed in a graphic tee with no bra since he could see her nipples poking out along with ripped jeans in this weather. He gave her a hundred-dollar bill. It was cold as shit for him, and he was dressed up properly in this winter air. If he didn't help her out, she'd probably die by the morning.

But if he was being honest, he was probably helping her out to ease his own guilty conscience. As he attempted to walk away, she tightly grabbed onto his wrist, preventing him from leaving. "Please, let me thank you…" Her voice was quiet and pretty cute as she dragged him into an alleyway. Ethan tried to refuse her advances as he was in a pretty intimate relationship with Poison right now. But she was pretty damn strong for a homeless girl… What the hell? He knew he was nothing but a shut-in whose only form of exercise could be considered self-abuse and sin, but she was pulling his right arm! His strongest arm! What the hell were the homeless doing if a girl who looked scrawnier than him was this strong? Was she lifting bricks or something?

"Listen, I'm not… There's no need for this… I'm kind of with someone right n--" Ethan's lips were taken without his consent as she pressed him against the wall.

As pleasurable as the experience of her soft lips pressing against his, Ethan didn't hesitate to try and push the pretty girl off of him. However, that was a seemingly impossible task as he suddenly realized the girl was growing in size?! Ethan's eyes widened in disbelief as the young girl transformed into a horrifying monster that was a head taller than him. Her lips stopped pressing against his as terrifyingly large sharp teeth meant only for biting and tearing appeared in front of Ethan's face. "Thank you so much for the meal, kind human…" The daemon kept her cute voice from earlier despite transforming into a horrifying monster.

The young girl's skin seemed to ripple and tear as her bones cracked and reshaped beneath the surface. Her limbs elongated, and her body expanded, pushing through her tattered rags, which tore apart like tissue paper in a hurricane. A sickening chorus of cracking and popping filled the alley as her joints elongated, granting her an unnatural height that dwarfed Ethan. Her face, once delicate and innocent, was now a grotesque visage of terror. Her eyes, pitch black and devoid of humanity, glowed with an eerie malevolence. They bore into Ethan's soul, promising unimaginable horrors. Her nose had twisted into a snout-like shape, filled with jagged fangs that jutted out at odd angles. The lips that had pressed against his moments ago were now peeled back, revealing a row of razor-sharp teeth meant for rending flesh and bone.

Her hair had grown wild and tangled, resembling a nest of serpents, each strand seemingly alive with malice. Dark, leathery scales covered her body, giving her an unsettling, reptilian appearance. Sinister, elongated claws adorned her fingers, sharp and deadly as they reached for him. As she hunched over in her newfound, monstrous form, her limbs seemed too long and disjointed, giving her an uncanny, spider-like quality.

Fear seized Ethan's body as he reached into his chest pocket. Without hesitation, he let off a full clip into the daemon's chest as her teeth came close to chomping his head in a single bite. His finger continued pulling the trigger even when the daemon was brought to her knees, staring up at him while clutching her riddled chest. Just as he was about to toss the emptied gun at the daemon's head, he remembered he had something else on him that could protect him. A vial of Poison's blood.

"W-Wait… Don't… I'm sorry…" The daemon seemed to recognize that whatever was in Ethan's hand came from another daemon. "I didn't realize you were someone else's toy… Please let me live…" She returned back to her human disguise.

Ethan tossed the poison at the daemon as his heart was beating out of his chest. He turned his head at the sound of her screaming while her flesh was being melted down to nothingness. The only thing remaining of her was some sort of glowing gem… Something inside of Ethan seduced him into picking up the mineral that was larger than his fist. A scream escaped from his throat as the rock shattered into pieces and merged with his gun?

"What the hell?" Ethan cautiously held the pistol by the grip with just his index finger and thumb.

The gun transformed into a bracelet that tightly wrapped around his arm. Nothing Ethan did seemed to work in pulling off the daemonic accessory. Biting, pulling, tearing, and even smashing it against the wall in the alleyway didn't work. So, he decided to walk home and ask an expert in daemonic matters. Hopefully, she could comfort him as well. How often did one nearly die against female daemons in their lifetime? Maybe she would be more forthcoming with a lap pillow as he detailed his experience of narrowly surviving an encounter with a daemon.

"I'm a little tired for some reason…" Ethan fell facefirst into the snow.

Namgo · Dec 3, 2023

"Hmm. I'm surprised you survived. Even if it was one of the weakest daemons." Poison filed her sharp nails. "You should thank your mother later. If not for her, you would've died of the cold. You certainly didn't tell me you left the house." She said in a stinging tone.

"I'm sorry…" Ethan was currently shirtless on top of his bed, with Poison sitting in his gaming chair, looking over him and his new daemonic weapon.

That daemon who tried to eat him apparently liked him enough to want to spend the rest of her life with him. At the cost of his blood, he could use her as a weapon effective against both daemons and magjistars. He didn't know if he should be flattered or pissed. This was the second hot girl who came on to him and tried to eat him. However, he was going to reject her. Probably… If there was a third time, it was proof he was a daemonic chick magnet.

Which wasn't as good as it sounds! If he could convince them not to eat him, they just wanted to use him! What did he get out of that?! Ethan might serve as Poison's slave and all, but it wasn't like he was satisfied being her slave forever. He wanted to eventually be an equal and be in a relationship with her! Even a lowly waste of life like him had some ambition.

"You still have use to me. I don't want to waste the time and effort I've put into raising a slave like you. So, don't go dying anywhere without my permission." She ordered.

Ethan thought the way she said that sounded weird but simply nodded. He was given more of her blood in small containers to carry on his person for protection. Then she left his room while narrowing her eyes at his spiffy new black bracelet. Ethan let out a breath as all his facade from seeming brave in front of Poison was expelled in an instant.

He buried his face into his pillow, letting off a muffled scream while slamming his feet into his bed repeatedly. HE ALMOST FUCKING DIED TODAY! Again! He almost fucking died again to a hot daemon! Ethan could feel his heart thumping like a drum as his fragile morality was brought to the center front of his mind. People shouldn't be forced to face death so often! Sure, it's been like a while since he met Poison, but still! That doesn't mean that was an acceptable amount of time for someone to realize how squishy and mortal they are! That kind of shit needs to be spread out across multiple decades, not months!

Ethan turned over to his back as he stared up at his ceiling. In and out. In and out. In and out. Ethan was hyperventilating. A world filled with monsters, people that hunt those monsters, and regular people like him caught in the middle… He didn't know why, but as he brought his bracelet close to his heart, he felt himself calming down. Like all of the rushing of his blood and nerves were slowed. "Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex." Ethan repeated like a personal mantra.

He needed to have sex with her. He needed to have sex with Poison if it was the last thing he did. He couldn't die before reaching that goal. Ethan refused to die. All of this would've been pointless. He only got into Poison's stolen car for the smallest opportunity of sex.

The corner of Ethan's lips slowly turned up as he held the bracelet close to his chest. He found something to keep him going. Something worth living for. Something worth going down this path with Poison for…

"H-Hey, guys. It's been a while, but I finally got your pay from our first job." Ethan greeted his employees.

"Not gonna lie, Mr. Ethan. Thought you were gonna hoe us and skip town with the money we got from the jewelry store." Ricky admitted.

Ethan took a brief glance at the others to realize that they, too, believed he would short them out of their money. "I'm not leaving Krey anytime soon." He replied. "You guys gave yourselves nicknames, right? I only know your real names, so please remind me of your alias when coming to get your pay. You first." Ethan pointed to Jasmine.

"Pinkie with an ie and not a y." Jasmine received 930 dollars.

"1,500 was reduced from the original pay." He reminded her.

"I remember." Jasmine realized she could've gotten over two grand from one job! Although most of that would go to her bills, she could have enough to buy her babies some clothes or something! Then, when the next job came, if it was anywhere near the same amount or more, it wouldn't be long until her babies were living the good life! "Do we have another job coming up soon?" She couldn't help but ask.

"We do." Ethan found another place.

This time, it wasn't a jewelry store. He refused to ever put himself in a position to sell jewelry ever again. That shit was annoying as hell to convert into cash. Ethan wasn't a social person in the first place. He could only tolerate people up to a certain extent.

"Ricky!" Ricky introduced himself as he was handed 2,430 dollars in cash.

"Natalie." Natalie calmly pocketed the money in her book bag.

"Jake." Jake counted the bills in front of Ethan before leaving.

"Ah, you can leave when you receive your pay. You don't have to stick around unless you have questions for me." Ethan reminded them. Jasmine and Ricky started to leave.

"Butterfly." Butterfly placed the money in her purse with a small curl of her lips.

"Queeny!" Queeny happily grabbed her money, shoving it into her pocket, forming a visible print bulging on the side of her waist.

"I go by Tyler or Ty…" Tyler cautiously grabbed the large amount of money with tears in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Ethan asked.

"S-Sorry. I'm fine… It's just… this money will help me a lot… Goodbye, boss." Tyler explained as he made his way out.

"Glad I could help?" Ethan didn't know how to respond to someone suddenly crying in front of him.

Tyler muttered something, but Ethan couldn't hear it. Now that his employees were paid and happy, he had to invest the rest of the money they got from the heist into further growing their organization. The classic phrase of spending money to make money. A saying even more valid for starting companies than those already established and set. Now it was time to get to work preparing for the next job…

Ethan leaned back in his gaming chair. His brows furrowed in concentration as he considered the upcoming job. He wasn't equipped for in-person scouting, and the internet was a dead end for acquiring detailed information on the bank. He had to rely on more traditional methods. Dragging his mouse, he clicked on a tab of Krey's city map. He studied the layout of the streets surrounding the small local bank. Ethan's approach would have to be grounded in simplicity and keen observation. He decided to take a drive around the neighborhood, observing the bank at different times of the day. As he drove around the streets, he memorized the landmarks, locations, and streets.

The publicly available city map was looked at so much Ethan was getting sick at the sight of it. As dusk settled, he stood across the street from the bank, hands in his pockets, observing the transition from business hours to evening. The streetlights flickered on, casting a warm glow on the quiet surroundings. Ethan's thoughts were practical, devoid of excitement; this was a task, not a thrill. Doing crimes didn't bring him any joy. It was simply a means to an end. This was what Poison wanted, and by doing what Poison wanted could potentially give him what he wanted.

Returning to his place, Ethan mulled over the gathered information. He knew the bank's exterior and the front lobby like the back of his hand now, but the specifics beyond that were a mystery. He'd have to be quick with this heist. Unlike with Poison, they couldn't just cut into the ATM machines. That would… Actually, yes, he could! Her blood! Just melt the damn thing and snatch the money.

Hmm, it would be risky, but it could be pretty lucrative if he went for the ATMs and the safe somewhere in the back. A small local bank like the one he was targeting didn't have security guards at night. It was nice and empty. While Ethan was confident in taking out security officers, he didn't want to. As much of a traitor to humanity, as he was, that didn't mean he was okay with killing humans for money.

All of this money was great. It felt really nice. But he wasn't willing to become a monster over it. He was just fine without money. He'll be fine with it. Don't get him wrong, money was the root of all evil and the solution to 99% of all problems. But he didn't really have an important need for it at the moment. He wasn't struggling, and he had all the latest devices he'd ever needed for a while. All of this money was simply for the sake of developing Poison's criminal empire. And for him to get a chance to become one with her.

Namgo · Dec 9, 2023

As Jasmine made herself comfortable on her couch, sunlight streamed through the curtains, bathing her living room in a comforting warmth. With her phone nestled between her shoulder and ear, she engaged in a conversation with Alexus, her lifelong best friend.

"Girl, you won't believe what happened at work today," Alexus exclaimed, laughter dancing in her words.

"Spill, Lex. I ain't got all day, girl." Jasmine was job hunting as well.

However, this time, her hunt for a legitimate job wouldn't be the end-all-be-all for her livelihood and that of her children. It was a lot more relaxing to look for jobs when it wasn't the only thing keeping you and your family from being on the streets or able to eat. She was still doing crime as her main job. Even with all the risks involved, the pay was too good to pass up.

As the conversation flowed, they delved into the day-to-day gossip. Discussing everything from self-care routines to the latest gossip to the latest Beetube videos. Yet, in the midst of their chatter, an unspoken tension lingered. Alexus, ever perceptive, sensed something weird about her bestie. "Jaz, you've been dodging my questions. What's really going on with this job of yours? Spill the tea, sis." Jasmine hesitated, her fingers tracing patterns on the worn armrest. "It's complicated, Lex."

"You can't play me like that, Jaz. We don't keep secrets. spill it!" Alexus insisted, her teasing tone underscored by genuine and anxious curiosity.

"Alright, alright. But you gotta promise not to freak out, Lex." Jasmine took a deep breath.

A mischievous chuckle escaped Alexus. "Girl, you know I can't promise that. Now spill before I start guessing wild stuff. You've been acting weird ever since that damn interview. Don't tell me that you've been selling ass on the street or something?" Jasmine sighed, her voice lowering. "Remember that job interview I had a while back?"

"Girl, you never even told me if you got the job or not. Tell me already!" Alexus pressed, curiosity bubbling in her tone.

"That's the thing, Lex. The job, it ain't no regular job. And no, I ain't selling no damn ass," Jasmine admitted, choosing her words carefully.

A beat of silence hung in the air. "Then what the fuck is it?" Alexus was silent for a moment, processing the unexpected turn in the conversation. "Jaz, what are you into? Are you doing some illegal shit or something? I don't see why else yo ass wouldn't tell me. You even told me when you applied to be one of those damn massage people. This can't be worst than that shit. And they didn't even want yo ass because you didn't even know how to give a massage."

Jasmine sighed. "I've been doing things, things I never thought I would, to make ends meet. I'm a fucking criminal, girl." A stunned silence followed Jasmine's confession. Alexus, for the first time, was at a loss for words. Then she started busting out laughing. "You fucking kidding me, right? Jasmine Hall, a criminal? The girl who cried when she couldn't even answer a math question in front of the class in middle school? The girl who cried when she thought she was going to get in trouble for cheating in gym class?! You gotta be fucking kidding me."

Amidst the laughter that spilled from Alexus, Jasmine couldn't help but also crack a smile, the tension easing momentarily. "I wish I was kidding, Lex, but I'm knee-deep in this shit. It's not a joke."

Alexus, wiping away tears from her eyes, managed to compose herself. "Okay, okay. Let me get this straight. Jasmine, my dear, sweet, rule-abiding best friend, is now a criminal mastermind? I've seen it all."

Jasmine rolled her eyes, a playful defiance in her voice. "I'm not a mastermind, Lex. I'm at the fucking bottom. But yeah, I'm tangled up in some shady shit to give Imani and Malik whatever they want and to help pay bills."

"Girl, I can't believe this. What kind of crime shit we talkin' here? Are you a bank robber or something?" Alexus quipped, a smirk evident in her voice.

"No, not a bank robber. Not yet, I don't think... " Jasmine muttered, choosing her words carefully. Alexus' tone shifted, the amusement giving way to genuine concern. "Jaz, you can't be serious. What kind of risks are we talking about? Are you in danger? Are you shooting niggas and shit? Drive-bys? Or are you selling drugs? Please tell me you're selling drugs or at least making them."

Jasmine hesitated, weighing the words on her tongue. "Nah, nothing like that… I just needed you to know what's going on in case... well, in case things go to shit. If something happens to me…"

"Things go to shit? Jasmine, this is insane! You can't just drop shit like this on me and expect me to act like it's no big deal. What if you get caught? What if something happens to you?" Alexus shouted.

"If something does happen to me, I want my kids to go to my mom," Jasmine said with a heavy heart.

A heavy sigh escaped Alexus. "Jaz, you're my best friend, and I love you, but this is crazy. You gotta promise me you'll be careful. And if things get too out of hand, you get the fuck out of there, okay?"

Jasmine nodded, even though Alexus couldn't see it through the phone. "I promise, Lex. I'll be careful. And thanks for not tearing into my ass for this shit..."

Alexus snorted, "You out of yo' fucking mind if you think I'm not about to tear into your ass for getting into this dumbass shit."

Alexus did as she said and thoroughly chewed out Jasmine for her choice. Sure, she understood why she was doing what she was doing. But that didn't mean it was smart or the best choice. As Jasmine's best friend, it was her motherfucking job to let her know all the dumbass choices she was making and to let her fucking know how dumb it was. If her ass got arrested, what does she think is going to happen to her fucking kids?

The construction site buzzed with activity as Ricky, or Larky Lark, as his parents unfortunately named him, navigated the loud worksite. The rhythmic pounding of hammers and the metallic clang of machinery filled the air. Larky, however, moved through the scene with a lightness that defied the heavy burdens life had placed upon him. His coworkers, bulky figures with muscles forged by years of manual labor, cast sidelong glances at Larky. To them, he was a weird little freak who couldn't lift 50 lbs on a good day. The jests and jabs followed him like persistent shadows, but Larky didn't give a shit about them. With a grin on his face, he ignored their mockery.

"Larky, my man, you're gonna blow away in this winter breeze!" one of the workers, a towering figure with calloused hands, shouted across the site.

Larky flashed a toothy grin. "Blow it out your ass, Tom." Laughter erupted, a raucous chorus that temporarily drowned out the sounds of labor. Throughout the day, he labored alongside his burly co-workers, lifting bags of cement and steel beams with determined effort. As the sun descended, casting long shadows across the construction site, the boss approached Larky. A gruff man with a perpetual scowl, he regarded Larky with a mixture of annoyance and reluctant acceptance. "You might work slow as shit, but you ain't lazy. Here's your pay."

The boss handed over a crumpled envelope, and Larky accepted it. As Larky pocketed the crumpled bills, a sense of finality settled over him. The rhythmic pulse of the construction site, once a familiar sound that still drives him fucking crazy, was finally going to disappear. With a deep inhale, Larky faced his boss. "I appreciate the opportunity, boss," Larky began, his words punctuated by a sincerity that cut through the gruff exterior of the man before him. "But, damn, I can't do this shit no more. Fuck this manual labor shit. I'm too young to be having back and feet problems already."

The boss was flabbergasted at this. He scowled at Larky, wondering where the hell he was going with this. Larky, fueled by a wellspring of frustration and a determination to break free, launched into a tirade about all the shit he's felt about this job. "I ain't no muscle head, and I sure as hell ain't here to prove nothin' to nobody. I'm not built for this back-breaking bullshit. You can keep your concrete and steel beams. I'm fuckin' out," Larky declared. "But, hey," Larky continued, a smirk playing on his lips, "thanks for the opportunity to realize just how much I fuckin' hate working here. It's been a goddamn blast."

With that, Larky turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the construction site and its life of hard labor behind. The boss, left to grapple with the unexpected departure, watched as the defiant figure of Larky left the worksite. As Larky strolled away from the construction site, the burdens of manual labor lifting from his shoulders, he couldn't help but revel in the sweet taste of liberation. The criminal gig beckoned like a fuckin' siren song. Larky, fueled by a newfound sense of autonomy, pondered the possibilities that awaited him in the life of crime. The city, its skyline ablaze with the falling snow, embraced Larky as he ventured down the streets.

Natalie, or Sydney Priscilla, sat alone in the corner of the college library, surrounded by towering shelves filled with books. Her focus was unyielding as she devoured the pages. The hushed whispers of students studying in groups echoed around her. Her dedication to her studies was unwavering, and her commitment to excellence was unshakeable. Natalie had always been driven, pushing herself to take honor classes and absorbing every bit of information presented in lectures.

But as the weight of the expensive tuition and mounting debt pressed down on her, Natalie couldn't help but feel a twinge of frustration. Her thoughts always go to the money flowing out of her bank account. Government aid and scholarships provided some relief, but the weight of her college's exorbitant fees was constant.

She glanced around the campus, observing the rich pricks who effortlessly got into this school because of their background. Natalie knew she was an outlier, an exception to the norm. Her admission to one of the top colleges in the country was proof to her intellect, a triumph over those rich assholes. But it also meant she carried the weight of being a maverick, an outsider in a place where high society and generational wealth reigned supreme. Still, Natalie refused to let the obstacles deter her. She had a goal, a vision of a future where her hard work would pay off. Her dream fueled her every step. And she had a secret weapon to help her fulfill this dream—Working for Ethan, a job that provided her with the means to survive.

As she sat in the lecture hall, her pen gliding across the paper during the midterm exam, Natalie's mind was razor-sharp. She absorbed the questions, analyzing and synthesizing information with precision. The weight of her financial struggles temporarily lifted as she immersed herself in the pursuit of knowledge. A week later, the professor stood before the class, holding a stack of graded papers. The room was silent as the time for class already started. As the names were called one by one, Natalie's heart quickened. And then, it happened—the professor's voice rang out, singling her out as the sole achiever of a perfect score, a resounding 100%.

A wave of pride, relief, and intellectual arrogance washed over Natalie. Her teacher's praise felt like a validation of her sacrifices and hard work. She looked around the room, her condescending gaze meeting her peers' surprised, envious, or indifferent eyes. This moment was proof of her hard work, an affirmation that her dedication had paid off. Without the stress of worrying if she was going to be kicked out of school, she could study her ass off!

With a smile playing on her lips, Natalie glanced at her calendar. She knew that, for this month at least, she had enough to cover her expenses. Her work with Ethan had provided a temporary respite from the mounting debt, allowing her to focus solely on her studies. Secretly, eagerly waiting for the next job. As she left the classroom, Natalie's steps were light and purposeful. The weight of her ambitions propelled her forward, overriding the burden of financial strain. Natalie's smile widened as she embraced the solitude that had become her ally. With her head held high, she walked through the bustling campus—the embodiment of intellectual superiority and the exaggerated swagger of a black teen. She was going to become rich and wealthy without having to break her back or suck anyone's dick to do it.

Tyler, known as Nathan Turner in the world outside crime, stood by the side of the hospital bed, the soft hum of machines surrounding him. The sterile scent of antiseptic hung in the air as he looked down at his mother, her fragile form cocooned in layers of blankets. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was a reminder of the delicate thread that connected her to life.

"Hey, Mom," Tyler whispered, his voice a gentle murmur in the quiet room. "I'm here again. They say you can hear me, even if you can't respond. So, I'm gonna keep talking, okay?"

He pulled a chair closer, settling into it with a weary sigh. The hospital room, with its pure white walls and the bright lights, felt like a world unto itself—a world where time stood still, and the only reality was the battle his mother waged against the illness that threatened to consume her.

"You know, Mom, I've been doing some things. Things I never thought I would, but I had to. You're sick, and these dang hospital bills keep piling up. I can't just stand by and watch you suffer." Tyler reached out, his hand gently resting on his mother's motionless one. The chill of illness replaced the warmth he sought, but he clung to the connection nonetheless. "I got involved in some stuff, Mom. Things I'm not proud of, but I'm doing it for you. I doing it because I can't bear the thought of losing you. The doctors say... they say we're running out of options. But I can't accept that. I won't."

"I'm working hard, Mom. Trying to make enough money to get you the best treatment. There's this doctor, they say he's the best. But he's expensive. Real expensive. But I don't care about the money. I'll get it, somehow." Tyler's words hung in the air, a pledge forged in the crucible of desperation. "I know it's been tough, but your son isn't a quitter. College, bills, and now this. But I'm not giving up, Mom. I can't. You're the strongest person I know, and I'm gonna make sure you have the chance to be even stronger."

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss on his mother's forehead. The scent of antiseptic mingled with the faint fragrance of the flowers he had placed nearby. "I'll be back soon, Mom. Keep fighting, okay? We're gonna get through this together. I promise." With one last lingering gaze, Tyler rose from the chair. The hospital room embraced the stillness once more, cradling the hopes and fears of a son determined to defy the inevitable for the woman who had given him everything.

Namgo · Dec 10, 2023

While wearing his standard Harvest Delights uniform, Jake Hathaway did menial labor through the bustling backroom, lifting products off the delivery truck. The rhythmic thud of products meeting the pallets echoed his routine. His co-workers aided him in unloading the truck on the several pallet jacks. It was their job, to place the products from the truck onto the pallet jacks, stack them up properly, and, once they're stacked, wrap them up and take them out to the floor. They would do this until all the trucks were unloaded. Once that was finished, they would go out onto the floor and stock the shelves with the products that came from the truck.

After work, he stood before the weathered gates of an orphanage. The matron, surprisingly young, greeted him with a warm smile. "Melissa." Jake greeted her. "Jake, it's good to see you," she uttered. In his hands, Jake cradled a stack of cash. As the bills changed hands, the matron's eyes widened, almost bulging from the revelation of the unexpected windfall. The matron, her voice hushed with disbelief, guided Jake into her modest office. The air was thick with the scent of aging wood and the echoes of children's laughter from a distant playroom. Behind the closed door, the matron, a bastion of maternal resilience, confronted Jake with a question that hung heavily in the air.

"Where did you get this money, Jake?" she inquired, her eyes searching for the truth that lingered behind the altruistic gesture.

Jake kept silent. "I'll toss this right out the window." She threatened. "Christmas is just around the corner." Jake reminded her. She thought about the innocence of the orphans, their dreams of presents and joy. The matron, caught between the harshness of reality and the purity of the children's expectations, grappled with the conflicting emotions that tugged at her heartstrings. "If it matters, I'm sorry that you feel this way." Jake offered an apology—not for the act itself, but for the emotional turmoil he inadvertently stirred. The matron cast a disapproving gaze upon Jake, the silent benefactor with a heart weighed down by the consequences of his altruism. "Don't give me crap like this again. Christmas won't be around the corner forever." Jake left without a goodbye. He still intended to send money to the orphanage. They both knew she wasn't stupid enough to throw away free money. She just said it because she was upset. Both of them grew up in that orphanage. It had a special place in both of their hearts.

Butterfly, or Laura Holloway, the reigning queen of Ridgeview High School, swept through the crowded hallways with an air of unwavering confidence. Her golden hair cascaded down her shoulders like a royal cloak, and her eyes, sharp and piercing, scanned her surroundings with an almost predatory intent. The clique that trailed behind her mimicked her every move. Their admiration was evident in their eyes. They made their way outside during their free time.

A young girl named Lexi lingered near a bench, engrossed in the pages of a book, Laura and her clique approached, their eyes already giggling as they made their way toward her. Lexi was a girl adorned with frumpy glasses and freckles, and was a little chubby. "Fatass, I'm bored, and I need someone to entertain me for lunch period. Lucky for you, you've been chosen." Laura sneered, her words forming frosty puffs in the frigid air. Lexi, startled by the sudden intrusion, stammered, "Laura, please, please, please, leave me alone…" She begged.

Laura's laughter was sharp and merciless. "Why don't you want to hang out with me? Today is the day you become famous." With that ominous declaration, Laura's clique closed in, encircling Lexi in a tight formation. The torment began. Laura's commands were like icy lashes, each one chipping away at Lexi's sense of self. "Fetch Mama's bag, doggy!" Laura declared, her voice cutting through the group's laughter. The cruelty escalated as Lexi, her spirit freezing with each degrading demand, complied with each order. Forced to bark, roll in the snow, and retrieve Laura's bag, she became a dog for Laura. The onlookers watched with a mix of humor, pity, indifference, or sympathy. Some recorded with their phones, while others just stood around laughing with Laura and her friends.

For what felt like an eternity, Lexi had no choice but to endure the humiliation, the snow clinging to her coat, and the laughter of her tormentors drowning her ears. She begged for help and pleaded with anyone to put a stop to this. As she looked around, Laura suddenly crouched down and made eye contact with her. "Be a good little bitch and follow your master's commands properly. If you be a good bitch, I won't mess with you tomorrow, okay?" Laura smiled a sickeningly sweet smile at Lexi.

Tears fell from Lexi's eyes as she barked in confirmation. She barked and barked and barked until the shouts of an adult came running over to them. Laura left her with a smile that promised something even worse if she dared to snitch. The teacher sent them all away except for Laura and Lexi, who were brought to the principal's office. Laura audibly groaned in irritation as she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms and legs while sitting in the principal's office.

"Laura Holloway, back again in my office, I see. Just can't stay out of trouble, can you?" The Principal locked his eyes on her, not amused in the slightest.

"I didn't do anything, and if you think I did, just ask her." Laura smiled while looking at Lexi.

"Laura. I know you did something to her. The girl can't even look in your direction." Principal Jones sighed.

"Unless you got proof of me doing something to her, stop wasting my time. I got classes to be at right now. You're like, holding up my education and crap. How am I supposed to be a good student when you're breathing down my neck every time a student comes crying to you?" Laura listed her grievances.

"Because you are always in the vicinity when they are crying. You are always on the lips of students and the subject of their whispers when I walk in the halls about the latest victim of your actions." He glared at her.

"Listen, Leo. We know exactly how this is going to play out." Laura narrowed her eyes at him. "Regardless of what she says, we both know nothing is going to happen to me. You butting your nose where it doesn't belong is only going to get someone hurt." Laura glanced at Lexi, who was softly sobbing.

Principal Jones gritted his teeth as he stared at this problem student in frustration. "Please… She didn't do anything… I just wanted to play in the snow…" Lexi spoke up. Principal Jones let out a heavy sigh as if he was aging by the second. "Get out of here…" He waved them out.

Laura smiled as she stood next to Lexi, still huffing and wetting her eyes. "Good little bitch." She patted her head. "I guess I'll spare you. You served your master well. Never raise your head in my presence again; we won't have a problem." Laura whispered. "Tha-" Her words were interrupted by Laura's sharp correction. "Bark, bitch." Laura reminded her. "Woof…" Lexi responded with another trail of tears down her eyes. "Alright, bye, bestie!" Laura's voice took on a completely new tone as she waved goodbye with a bright smile.

Laura loved her new lifestyle. Now that she could afford the latest clothes, accessories, electronics, shoes, and her own freaking car, she had nothing to worry about for the rest of her high school life. Like, who could imagine that the queen of the school was actually a brokie? An actual broke bitch who lived in like the suburbs! But now that she got money from working with Ethan, she could continue living like a queen. If she kept working, she could even move straight out into an actual house or something once she was eighteen. Then she could move on to becoming queen of college!

'Money is the sweetest thing ever!' She shouted in her heart.

Queeny, or Vanessa Thompson, stepped into the lavish lobby of the upscale hotel. The contrast between the grit of the streets she had to live on and the fanciness that now surrounded her was crazy. The reception area, filled with polished marble and gleaming lights, welcomed her like an unexpected guest from a whole new world. Vanessa, still wearing the clothes she managed to keep while living the homeless life, stood in the midst of elegance and luxury. The receptionist, trained to maintain a facade of disinterest, cast a fleeting glance at her like she wasn't supposed to be here. Like she was inches away from calling for security to escort her out. A condescending smirk was present on Vanessa's lips. This bitch thought she couldn't afford to stay here or something, right?

With the presence of a flaunting peacock, Vanessa approached the check-in counter. The receptionist raised a stank eyebrow at her. In response, Vanessa tossed a wad of cash onto the counter. The look on her face was saying, "Pick it up bitch. Pick my shit up and treat me like your god. I got fucking money bitch!"

But actually, she said, "I need a room," Vanessa declared. After seeing the fat stacks of cash, the receptionist nodded and began the check-in process as Vanessa ascended the elevator to her temporary haven. The hallway, littered with framed artworks and soft lighting, led her to a door that promised her no more sleeping on the streets. Upon entering the room, Vanessa found herself enveloped in a new world. The king-sized bed that had pristine linens beckoned her to surrender to a comfort she had long been denied.

She approached the window, drawing back the heavy curtains to unveil an awesome view of the city below. The glittering lights now danced in harmony with the sparkle in Vanessa's eyes. The bathroom, equipped with luxurious amenities, offered a blissful rest from the hardships Vanessa had endured. As she stood beneath the cascading water of the rainfall shower, the grime of the streets washed away, leaving behind a renewed sense of self. Draped in a plush hotel robe, Vanessa reclined on the sumptuous bed, the crisp sheets cradling her in a cocoon of comfort and luxury. The television, a piece of luxury she missed very much dearly, flickered to life.

In the plush confines of the hotel room, a surge of exuberance pulsed through Vanessa's veins. She had money, enough money to do whatever the hell she wanted. And it was all thanks to her applying to that shifty-ass job ad. Sure, she was a criminal, but that was way better than being a homeless bitch! No longer did Vanessa have to wonder where her next meal would come from or fear for her own safety every time she closed her eyes. With an impulsive burst of energy, Vanessa seized the remote control and cranked up the volume of the entertainment system, filling the room with blistering punk rock.

As the rebellious music blasted through the speakers, Vanessa couldn't contain herself. She danced with wild abandon, twirling and leaping across the room. The elegant furnishings and meticulously arranged decor became casualties of her liberated spirit. The sound of crashing objects and the thumping of her feet reverberated through the walls as she careened through the space, leaving a trail of disarray in her wake. The curtains were torn down in a flurry of movement. The artwork on the walls threatened to topple as she brushed against them, leaving them askew. The once neatly made bed, now a disheveled mess, became her stage as she jumped and spun upon it, the crisp sheets crinkling and tangling beneath her.

Vanessa's laughter mixed with the rebellious strains of the music, creating an atmosphere of joyful defiance. The air crackled with electricity as her uninhibited revelry filled the room. The reflection in the mirror captured her elation, her eyes shining with a newfound sense of freedom. As the final chords of the punk anthem faded away, Vanessa, breathless and flushed with triumph, collapsed onto the bed.

As Vanessa caught her breath amidst the wreckage she had created, she felt a surge of pure happiness coursing through her veins. With her newfound financial means earned through her criminal activities, Vanessa saw an opportunity to finally get started on pursuing her lifelong dream of becoming a famous musician.

Kicked out of her parents' house at the tender age of 18, Vanessa has never really made anything of herself since then. But now, armed with the capital she had acquired, she was ready to make her mark on the music industry. Music was her lifeblood, and punk music was everything to her. With a determined glint in her eyes, Vanessa reached for her phone and began researching recording studios, music producers, and local venues. She had always written her own songs, pouring her heart and disdain for the system into the lyrics. Now, she had the means to bring her music to life, to amplify her voice, and to spread her voice to the people of Krey and beyond.

Sometime later, after she expressed the feelings she felt deep inside, there was a sudden knock on the hotel room door that interrupted Vanessa's thoughts. She paused, momentarily taken aback by the intrusion. As she swung open the door, a hotel worker stood before her, his face a mix of concern and annoyance. Dressed in a crisp uniform, he mustered a polite smile despite the chaos that lay behind her. "Excuse me, ma'am," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of exasperation. "We've been receiving complaints about the loud noise. Could you please keep it down? Other guests are trying to rest."

Vanessa couldn't help but laugh in his face. She flicked him off. The hotel worker's expression shifted from concern to a mix of surprise and indignation. He attempted to interject, but before he could utter another word, Vanessa slammed the door shut in his face, the sound reverberating through the corridor. The hotel worker, left to deal with the aftermath of Vanessa's disregard, let out a sigh and moved on to address the other guests' concerns.

Namgo · Dec 16, 2023

Detective Rodriguez sat watching the security footage of recently burglarized places of business within the past few months. Each with the same batch of criminals… Irritation and frustration filled his bones. He may have been put in charge of this case, but that didn't mean that he was working alone anymore. As Ethan and his gang of criminals escalated in their crimes, Detective Rodriguez was given more responsibility and authority in apprehending these criminals. They were targeting bigger and more valuable places.

Reporters and media outlets were like starving hounds on his ass, nipping and barking at him. Even his own boss didn't give him any leeway, demanding any form of results and progress in putting this group behind bars. They've already had high exposure from news stations posting videos of their crime spree. They would play the footage from the security cameras of the places they robbed, going over each and every step of the robbery. Commenting on several things, complimenting them in some cases, and other times badmouthing the force.

Normally, when they're getting dragged through the mud by the media, their go-to response is to make a crowd-control statement and then ignore it. Eventually, it'll be forgotten as the public focuses their attention on the next big thing. However, in this case… Things were not going as smoothly as Andrew Rodriguez would have liked.

Ever since those vigilantes put Tears behind bars and got everyone associated with him in some trouble as well, people actively began discussing why the hell they even needed the police if some kids in costumes were more than enough to directly cause the crime rate in Krey to plummet. There were memes of a data chart on the crime rate in Krey going straight down after Tears's arrest. Andrew's kids were more than happy to show him the latest memes despite how much it infuriated him.

Andrew had no personal issues with Diablo and Glutton. Most people in Krey loved the kids and their mentor, Boundless, although she's rarely seen anymore. They had people making shirts, toys, plushies, and all sorts of crap of them. Although he thought it was wrong that people were making money off of kids, he understood that people would do it regardless.

At the end of the day, those three superheroes have negatively affected the public's perception of Krey's law enforcement. People trusted children with their lives more than police officers. Andrew wanted to have a big long drink after reading that those superheroes had more of a public approval rating them their police department. And that wasn't even the craziest part.

Somehow, news of Ethan's criminal interview has reached the public. Andrew figured it was one of the loudmouths he was assigned under him to handle Ethan's gang. So now people knew about the circumstances revolving around Ethan's gang recruitment. And with those security camera footages of their crimes live for anyone to see and potentially replicate, the gangsters have even gotten their own fans!

Has the world descended into chaos, or has it always been crazy? Andrew couldn't believe that people were actually choosing to cheer and support actual criminals and vigilantes over cops! He refused to accept that those comments from people online were real in that they would have accepted Ethan's gang recruitment.

Supposedly, someone a part of Ethan's gang posted something on the internet about how much they got paid for each job, how many hours they worked a week, and what was expected of them. That post blew up the internet, and millions of people were seemingly actively looking to join Ethan's gang or something similar to it. The hashtag #FuckARealJob was trending on every social media platform.

People were sharing all sorts of memes with that tag. Saying stuff like, "I could get paid more doing crime than I do with my master's degree." "Why put myself into debt with college when I can make more than someone ten years out of college by doing crime?" Another post said. "If I could make that much money with the only catch being I had to share my personal information, I couldn't snitch once I was in about anything, and a good possibility of upward mobility in the gang if I stay long enough? Am I fucking crazy? Of course, I'm joining! Sure, if I get arrested, it might suck, but hey, I'm sure if I keep my mouth shut, I'll have a position back in the gang once I'm out! Making that big-time money."

Andrew took a long look at the flask one of his buddies had. Was the world truly in such a bad state that crime was more profitable than honest living…? This was the real world, not some fantasy, damn it! Superheroes and idolizing criminals? What sort of world is this?!

Ricky: So, what do you guys think about our upcoming job, soon?! Are you all excited!?

Butterfly: Excited to buy my new Marbling sports car after it's finished.

Queeny: I'm buying a place of my own. Opulent Hotel is threatening to kick me out because they hate freedom of expression!

Ricky: You sure it ain't because they're tired of you playing loud music all throughout the night?

Queeny: No! My music is awesome.

Natalie: Her music is good.

Butterfly: It isn't horrible. Those producers, engineers, songwriters, and marketers you hired do a decent job of making it sound tolerable.

Ricky: I believe that's the nicest thing of a compliment that you'll receive from Butterfly…

Queeny: I can't believe I have the princess's approval. I'm really going to get far in the music industry now.

Butterfly: Cherish the moment, Queeny. Might never happen again.

Ricky: Wait! Back on topic! Tyler, Jake, Pinkie, and even the bossman himself! I want replies!

Tyler: I'm scared.

Pinkie: Tyler is speaking the truth, baby.

Jake: Preparing.

Ethan: Planning. Sorry, I can't chat much. This is an important job that could make or break us. I need to make sure everything is well-planned out for all of our safety.

Ricky: Respect to the Bossman, Ethan! Jake, what are you preparing, my man?

Jake: A will.

Natalie: Wait, Jake. A will? Is that necessary?

Jake: You never know what might happen.

Ricky: Jake's just being dramatic. We'll pull this off without a hitch. The bossman wouldn't lead us to our deaths. Right?"

Ethan: It would be better to have one than not.

Queeny: Damn, that's some hardcore shit! I love it! I should make a song about me singing about myself, making a will for myself!

Butterfly: Hm. I guess I'll give everything to my Chihuahua Belle. She's a princess and deserves the world.

Tyler: Your dog…?

Butterfly: Is that a problem, Tyler?

Pinkie: That is the whitest shit i've ever heard. What about your family, girl? Don't you have people you care about?!

Butterfly: My family sucks and I hate them.

Queeny: I never thought i'd agree with you on anything but i feel that one. Although if i get popped on this bank job, i got no one to give my money. I'm definitely not giving it to my parents who kicked me out of the house when i turned 18.

Ricky: Hoo boy, now i think i know why some of us accepted Ethan's offer a little better…

Jake: The world sucks.

Ethan: It is certainly more difficult to make a living nowadays compared to our parents' generation.

Natalie: Are we getting guns?

Ethan: Some of you will, not everyone will need one. Unless you all want guns?

Queeny: Gun plsssss

Butterfly: Gun please.

Ricky: Can i get an ka-74? Or a shotgun?

Jake: A Kolt would be nice.

Pinkie: Can i skip on the gun?

Tyler: I would like to skip as well…

Ricky: Skip out on an actual gun?! Are you guys crazy!? This is going to be so awesome!

Pinkie: This isn't a damn game, Ricky. Guns are used for only one reason. Killing people. I ain't trying to kill no damn body!

Ricky: No one said you had to kill anybody. But… if there was a chance of me being shot at, i would definitely like to have a gun on me even if i didn't plan to use it.

Pinkie: I don't want no damn gun.

Tyler: I changed my mind. I'll take one…

Pinkie: Tyler!?

Tyler: He made a good point…

Queeny: A dead cop is not going to be on anyone's mind. Even if something does go down.

Jake: Cops are too scared to risk their lives against actual criminals nowadays. They like picking on the vulnerable and innocent. As long as we show we mean business, we should be fine.

Ricky: I think that's the most you ever said to date.

Jake:

Butterfly: I don't care what happens as long as I get what's mine.

Queeny: Ayeeee! Preach Butterfly!

Ethan: Good news is, if this job goes well, we won't need to do anything this risky ever again, probably. I'll also have to make another recruitment effort to help expand our organization. So, if you have any friends who desperately need money, there will be an opportunity for them to join us. But that's all in the hope that everything turns out well for our job. Alright, i gotta go and yes i'll give everyone who wants guns guns.

Namgo · Dec 17, 2023

Krey's Big Bank was one of the most visited buildings in the large city, its exterior a marriage of imposing modern architecture and the subtle prestige of a corporate emblem. The building's facade, etched with the bank's name and logo, loomed over the streets in a grand manner. Its sleek lines and reflective surfaces caught the sunlight, creating a play of shadows that danced with the pulse of the bustling city. As the group of masked figures pushed through the towering entrance, a hush enveloped them, the atmosphere transforming into a blend of quiet anticipation and the faint hum of financial transactions. The lobby unfolded before them. The marble underfoot, cool and smooth, echoed their footsteps, while the air carried the faint scent of polished wood and the distant whir of electronic transactions.

The banking hall boasted towering glass partitions that created a sense of openness without sacrificing privacy. Natural light filtered through, casting a warm glow on the leather-clad chairs placed for customers going about their business. The soft rustle of papers and the clink of coins against counters could be heard as they moved further in. Teller counters and service desks, manned by professionals in clean attire, exuded a quiet efficiency. The rhythmic tap of keyboards and the occasional murmur of conversations created a backdrop of business as usual.

Security was heavy, with discreet and obvious cameras positioned like vigilant eyes and the occasional presence of uniformed personnel blending seamlessly with the backdrop. The controlled access points, both physical and digital, added a layer of tangible security, emphasizing the bank's commitment to safeguarding not just money but also the trust of its clientele.

Almost immediately, a security guard walked over to them with his hand on his holstered gun. "STAY RIGHT THERE! PUT YOUR HANDS UP AND DO NOT RESIST!" He demanded. The group mostly did as he said and as he motioned to call this in on his walkie-talkie while apprehending them. With a swift and brutal movement, Butterfly's brass knuckles met the officer's jaw. The metallic taste of blood and the visceral crunch of bone collided, and the unsuspecting officer crumpled to the ground with his jaw out of place. The dissonance reverberated through the once peaceful lobby, announcing the beginning of the heist. "Tch. Diamond jawed shithead…" Butterfly angrily muttered while rubbing her aching fist.

Ricky stepped forward, his automatic rifle commanding attention. The metallic echo of multiple gunshots reverberated through the grand space as he fired into the air, the sharp report cutting through the ambient sounds of the bank. The abrupt explosion of sound acted as a signal for the heist to commence. The previously composed patrons and staff now found themselves thrust into a disorienting whirlwind. Gasps and startled cries filled the air, blending with the shrill ring of the gunshot's aftermath.

"Alright, listen up, folks!" Ricky's voice pierced through the commotion, carrying a mix of excitement and nervousness. "We just want some cash, so no sudden moves if you value your pretty little lives. Now, everyone on the ground, hands where we can see them!"

As the patrons hurriedly complied, their faces etched with fear and terror, Ricky continued his domination of the scene. "You, lady in the blue dress, toss your purse over here. And you, sir, with the handsome mustache, hand over that fancy watch of yours. Like I said before, we ain't here to kill anyone if we can help it; we just want money." The atmosphere shifted from anticipation to compliance, the patrons reluctantly parting with their possessions under Ricky's watchful gaze. Jake collected all of their belongings in the large duffle bag he placed on the ground. He was the strongest out of everyone in the group. Ricky's every command echoed off the polished walls, creating a surreal scene of subdued pandemonium.

With a swagger matching her bold personality, Queeny took charge alongside Ricky. "And don't forget those cellphones! We don't want any heroes. Hurry up before my finger gets itchy."

The metallic clatter of phones hitting the floor added a percussive layer to the unfolding drama. Butterfly collected all of the phones with a small pistol in her hand. For anyone taking too long, she would punch them across the face or pistol whip them. Ricky, maintaining an air of control, surveyed the chaos with a grin. "Good, good! Now, everybody stay down and keep those hands where we can see them. This is just a small inconvenience, folks. You'll be able to leave in no time as long as you act right."

"Jinx, we need eyes inside the bank. Please help this lowly peon find out where the security officers are stationed, especially any armed guards. We can't have surprises," Ethan instructed, his voice a low murmur.

Jinx, though looking like a fox, possessed intelligence on par with humans. Her ears perked up as she acknowledged Ethan's request, and with a flick of her bushy tail, she vanished in a blur. The small daemon maneuvered through the crowd, weaving between legs and beneath the teller counters, avoiding notice like a ghostly presence. Stealth was an innate skill of any daemon.

Ethan's gaze remained fixed on the hostages, calculating every potential outcome. Jinx skillfully navigated the interior space of the bank, disappearing momentarily behind the teller counters and emerging with a clear view of the security setup. The fox's eyes, sharp and observant, took in the information. As Jinx returned to her perch on Ethan's shoulder, Ethan received the intel he sought. "We've got three armed guards trained on us, two more near the elevators, and a lone officer stationed at the back near the vault entrance," Ethan relayed to the rest of the group, his mind already working on the next steps of his meticulously planned heist.

"Oi! Security guards, if you don't wanna see one of these innocent people killed. Get your asses on over here, please. I know I don't wanna see someone's brains ejected from their skulls on this beautiful morning." Ricky shouted.

In the distance, the three security guards with their weapons trained on the group looked between themselves before making a decision. "Be prepared…" Ethan whispered to Jinx. Although it would violate one of Poison's rules for him, he didn't want to lose any of these guys. They've been good employees. They don't deserve to die over something like this.

Thankfully, the three made their way over to them. Tyler took their guns as they joined the group of hostages. Everyone but Ricky, Butterfly, and Natalie made their way to the elevator. It was the only way to access the vault down below. With multiple guns trained on the guards by the elevator, they stood down and surrendered. The group went down the elevator together and also subdued the vault's security guard with the threat of death.

It turns out people are a lot more persuadable when you point a gun or few at them. Disregarding the numerous security systems in place to unlock the vault, Ethan simply splashed a few vials of Poison's poison on the vault until there was a path directly into the interior. Once inside, the group began to get to work. The money that wasn't hidden inside the deposit boxes was being stuffed into their duffle bags. Ethan began using Poison's poison to unlock the locked deposit boxes. By melting the metal hinges, the boxes were able to be pulled out without much hassle.

It took a while to stuff all their duffle bags full of money, but once they did, Ethan had them put on the blindfolds he specifically ordered them to bring. After securing it tightly around their eyes, he looked at the security cameras. He took out his gun and shot all of the security cameras inside the vault. Ethan gently patted Jinx's head, and she made one large portal for them. One by one, he pushed each of them into the portal, including himself.

"Don't talk. Just follow the sound of my voice." Ethan ordered in an uncharacteristically serious voice.

The group did as he asked until they were finally allowed to take off the blindfolds. They were surprised to see Natalie, Ricky, and Butterfly with them inside this… Where were they?! How did they get to this place from the bank vault?!

"How did-" Ethan interrupted Ricky's question by placing his finger over his own lips.

"No questions. Drop your stuff off here and go home. Lay low until I contact you."

"But what about-" Ethan shushed Queeny.

"No questions. Leave now. I'll send you your pay when the heat dies down, and everything is calm. Oh, and put on those clothes before you leave. Unless you want to be arrested." Ethan pointed to the pile of clothes varying in size next to the door. "The bathrooms are to the left and right of the main entrance."

The group didn't fight Ethan and diligently followed his instructions. On their way out, they chatted to each other. "How the hell did we get here from the bank?" Ricky had to ask someone. "You heard the boss. No questions." Jake repeated for him to understand. "I was wondering how we were going to get away when I didn't hear anything about a getaway vehicle in the plan before we went in…" Queeny muttered. "Whatever. With this job, we're probably going to be well off enough to do anything we want for a long time." Butterfly didn't care what unfathomable methods her boss used to get her out of being arrested. All she cared about was the money that was going to be coming in soon.

"I'm grateful they didn't take off our masks when they were arresting us," Natalie mentioned.

"Arresting you?" Pinkie questioned.

"Ricky, Butterfly, and I were the scapegoats. Because Butterfly and I are minors, we would be treated more leniently if we were caught. The boss promised that nothing would happen to us as long as we screamed that we were being forced into participating in the bank robbery. He would ensure that people knew that he specifically forced us into the gang. Lawyers would be hard-pressed to tell if it was the truth or a lie as long as we showed remorse and cried when they questioned us." Natalie explained.

"I really wanted to show off my acting skills." Butterfly parted her hair to the side with complete confidence.

"I guess we're lucky he snatched us up before they unmasked us." Ricky laughed.

"I guess we're just going to ignore HOW THE FUCK HE MADE US DISAPPEAR FROM THE BANK!?" Queeny yelled, frustrated that she was seemingly the only one going crazy about this.

"Yes," Jake said.

"Yes," Tyler agreed.

"Some things are better off not knowing…" Pinkie was curious, too, but not that badly.

"As long as I get my cut, I don't care." Butterfly shared.

"Boss is probably a magician or something." Ricky shrugged.

"Why would a shut-in be a magician?" Natalie questioned.

"He doesn't seem like he has the personality for that job either…" Tyler added. Magicians were charismatic. The only thing charismatic about Ethan was how lenient of a boss he was and how big of a check he gave them for each job.

"No! He has a point! A long time ago, I was watching this streamer! She was livestreaming, right? And on her livestream, she was investigating some weird ass noises coming from that abandoned subway downtown. And then when she went down there, there were some actual ass fucking real monsters that showed up!!!" Queeny explained.

Everyone looked at her without saying a word. "Video editing has come a long way…" Even Ricky didn't believe her. "It was a fucking livestream! You can't edit a livestream in progress!" Queeny tried to convince them. "Even if what you're saying is true. Are you saying the boss is a monster or something?" Butterfly couldn't help but snort. "No, but… I'm just saying! It's possible he may be actually magic or something! If monsters exist, what's so hard to believe that supernatural powers wouldn't either?!" Queeny explained.

"I'm sure if magic existed, scientists would've found a way to prove it existed in some capacity," Natalie informed.

"Plus, it wouldn't make sense for Boss to be a criminal if he had magical powers. He could do anything he wanted if he could do magic." Tyler supported Natalie's point.

"Why would a shut-in who could do magic be a shut-in in the first place, also?" Butterfly added.

The group eventually split up to change their clothes and met back up at the entrance of the building. They continued their discussion on the boss's origins, with everyone thinking that Queeny was crazy and collectively refusing to discuss their own thoughts on how the hell Ethan got them halfway across town in an instant. It was safer for their income not to question it. Queeny, unfortunately, didn't seem to understand that.

Ricky suggested they go out to eat to celebrate their successful job. Everyone agreed to the suggestion as this was their biggest job to date. It was also going to be their last biggest job and the start of a life of easy money and easy living. Why shouldn't they celebrate?! It was a cause for celebration!

Namgo · Dec 22, 2023

Emma Lee sat in the studio, her eyes focused on the prompter as she prepared to deliver the evening news. Beside her, Mike Young and Lisa Rivera, seasoned reporters, exchanged glances. Tonight's headline was no ordinary story—it was the most exciting piece of news since Tears's arrest! A story on par with a big criminal gangster being locked up which will bring plenty of ratings!

"Good evening, viewers. I'm Emma Lee, and my colleagues, Mike Young, and Lisa Rivera, are with me. Tonight, we delve into the riveting details of the most talked-about event in Krey—the brazen bank heist that unfolded at Krey's Big Bank. This wasn't your run-of-the-mill crime; it was done by the up-and-coming criminal gang run by the mysterious crime lord Ethan! Still no last name, but law enforcement believes they have a composite sketch of Ethan's face and body from those who refused to join his gang during his recruitment interview. Only time will tell if that will lead to anything." She said with playful doubt in her voice.

Mike leaned forward, his voice resonating with the weight of the unfolding drama. "Picture this: Krey's Big Bank, a monolith of financial security and wealth, its imposing facade has never been challenged. Until yesterday. Ethan's gang, masked and armed, made their entrance with relaxation and ease as if the bank heist was already a success."

"Indeed, Mike. One of the criminals, known as Butterfly, a petite young lady, reportedly unleashed her brass knuckles on a security guard, dislocating his jaw in a single, brutal strike," Emma narrated, her eyes conveying the intensity of the moment. "He's still currently healing in the hospital from his injuries.

Lisa interjected, "And let's not forget Ricky, the one who decided to fire his gun into the air. The most terrifying presence at the scene of the bank robbery. He had several people horrified and fearing for their lives. Some people reportedly said they thought he was mentally deranged and definitely didn't want to push any of his buttons."

The studio filled with a brief pause, allowing viewers to digest the unfolding drama. Emma, however, brought their attention back with a knowing smile. "But behind the chaos, there's a layer of interest. Social media erupted with memes faster than you could say 'bank heist.' The internet's creativity knows no bounds." On the screen, snippets of memes showed with wit and humor, reflecting the public's varied reactions. Mike chuckled, pointing at the screen. "Look at this one: 'Ethan's gang walks into a bank with guns, asks for all of the cash. Somehow leaves with his entire gang.'"

Lisa joined in, laughter coloring her voice. "And here's another gem: 'Me trying to decide if I should deposit my paycheck or join Ethan's gang.'" Emma, bringing a touch of seriousness, continued, "However, let's not forget the seriousness of the situation. As funny as some of these things are, this was a serious crime. The National Bureau of Investigation and Security is supposedly getting involved in Ethan's gang. I believe it's because they stole a lot of money. I mean a lot of money…"

"Now on to eyewitness reports from those who were there at the bank robbery."

The television screen shifted to snippets of witness interviews, capturing the raw emotions of those caught in the crossfire. A woman's voice echoed, "It was like a movie, you know? Masks, guns, the whole shebang. Haha, I was bleep scared out of my mind! They had real guns! You know, like the ones you see in bleep action movies. I was crying. I think I even peed myself a little." She admitted.

"I was more sad about losing my phone than being a hostage," the young man said, sounding slightly upset. "When the law enforcement tracked our stolen phones, they were just in some hole slightly out of town. I guess Ethan's gang skipped town or something."

Emma, with a solemn tone, addressed the viewers. "Now, this next clip is distressing. The security cameras recorded Butterfly's initial confrontation with the first security guard, starting the heist. Viewer discretion is advised." A hushed silence fell over the studio as the footage played discreetly. Lisa winced at the visually stunning and audible blow, the impact of the hit sinking in. "That's brutal. It's a miracle she didn't kill the guy." Emma, steering the narrative, added, "Well, Lisa, they are there to rob the bank. I think the real miracle is that no one died at all. The public's fascination with Butterfly's brutal opener to the heist is undeniable. Apparently, she's become a girlboss celebrity with youths worldwide. There's even a music video surrounding this video playing to music that's strangely inspirational. I don't know if it's because she's a girl knocking out a man larger than her, or it's a form of symbolism I can't quite understand."

As the studio played more clips, a diversity of perspectives emerged. A teenager, seemingly unfazed after the bank heist, stated, "Ethan's gang is, like, legendary now. It's insane, but I kinda get why they're doing it. If my mom wasn't such a bleep, I'd probably be in Ethan's gang right now, too. Not because I need the money but bleep societal rules, yo."

Mike, eyebrows raised, asked, "I hope all the youths of today aren't idolizing these criminals, or I believe we have hard times ahead of us." Lisa, rolling her eyes, retorted, "Kids these days idolize everything. But we certainly can't overlook the fact that these criminals are striking a chord with a disillusioned youth."

As the news unfolded, the studio became a battleground of opinions. Emma, adopting a novelistic approach, began to explore the nuances of the debate. "Now, viewers, let's address the elephant in the room. Is Ethan's gang glorifying crime, or are they exposing flaws in our system?" Mike, his voice measured, offered his perspective. "It's a question worth pondering. Some argue they're people just fed up with the system. People are constantly saying prices are constantly increasing while our pay is staying the same."

"I don't think knocking a guard's jaw off is going against the system. The man was just doing his job," Lisa argued.

"He was hindering them from getting back at the system, I guess? I'm not a criminal. I wouldn't know." Mike retorted.

Emma, the voice of reason, mediated between conflicting opinions. "Strong opinions here at the station. Viewers, what's your take on Ethan's gang? Products of the rising everything or just simple, no-good criminals? Share your thoughts with us on social media. We'll be back after this short break to dive deeper into the public's reactions. Stay tuned for more insights into the aftermath of today's events."

The studio lights dimmed as commercials played, offering a brief respite from the intense narrative. Emma was mindlessly scrolling and tapping at the screen while the break went on. Not seemingly caring about this event at all.

Online, the bank robbery became a swirling tempest of whoever could garner the most interest by mentioning the bank robbery. Social media platforms were filled with people discussing the high-profile crime. Potentially citing it as the biggest crime of the year in terms of financial damages. On ChirpChat, #EthanHeist trended with an avalanche of chirps reflecting the public sentiment spectrum. Memes, GIFs, and biting posts flooded the platform, creating an atmosphere of both amusement and concern. One user, @Axew21, posted a meme featuring a scene from a movie with several criminals leisurely preparing to head into a bank while masked up and dangerous guns in their hands with Ethan's gang masks superposed on them as a police officer is parked nearby, looking at them, captioned, "When you're robbing a bank but remember maybe you shouldn't do your job today. #EthanHeist." The humor sparked a cascade of likes and retweets.

Conversely, @KyleLamb expressed a more somber viewpoint. "This heist isn't a laughing matter. We shouldn't glamorize criminal acts. What happened to our society? Do you know how much of our money they stole from that bank?! Multiple millions!"

DigiConnect was where citizens aired their grievances. The debate was lively, with some applauding Ethan's gang as modern-day Robin Hoods, while others condemned their actions as a descent into anarchy for the citizens of Krey and those in cities similar to Krey. On GramShare, a visual feast of snapshots and short videos emerged. A user named @wCynic shared an image of graffiti portraying Ethan's supposed appearance wearing a crown, the words "Gangster King" emblazoned beneath. The fusion of rebellion and artistry resonated with a younger demographic. Meanwhile, Flashtalk's Story Map showcased snippets of the bank heist's aftermath. Brief videos captured public reactions—shocked faces, hurried whispers, and shaky footage of the chaos outside of the bank. The immediacy of these clips brought an unfiltered and raw quality to the narrative.

On an online forum, users dissected the heist with surgical precision. The thread titled "Ethan's Bank Heist Discussion Forum." drew a multitude of responses, ranging from fervent support to vehement condemnation. UserRiskFan, an avid supporter of Ethan's gang, declared, "Finally, someone has the guts to challenge the corrupt system. We're living in a society where the rich get richer, and the rest of us struggle. #EthanHeist is a wake-up call we all needed. More of us need to be going out, doing crimes, and fucking shit up until I can finally fucking afford not to break my back just to afford rent and groceries." The reply button became a battlefield of ideologies as UserZakk retorted, "I never really got that anarchist type of thinking; we should just break, rob, and act like animals if we want change type of idealogy. If you want higher wages and better pay, go out and protest for it!"

Across social media platforms, influencers and celebrities added their voices to the discourse. The GramShare account of a popular lifestyle blogger showcased a photo of the graffiti mural depicting Ethan as a crowned criminal mastermind, accompanied by a caption that read, "In a city drowning in theft from those at the top, maybe we need a disruptor. What are your thoughts on #EthanHeist?" The comment section beneath the post became a battlefield of comments where users shared their opinions. Some echoed the blogger's sentiment, applauding Ethan's gang as modern-day needed criminals. Others expressed concern, fearing that glorifying criminal acts could lead to chaos and further attacks on those living paycheck to paycheck.

On a forum dedicated to city affairs, a user posted a lengthy analysis titled "Deconstructing #EthanHeist: Unraveling Motives and Morality." The analysis delved into the speculated motives behind the heist, with theories ranging from economic activism to personal vendettas against the banking elite. One comment under the analysis argued, "This goes beyond a simple heist. #EthanHeist is a statement against a system that benefits the few at the expense of the many. It's time we question the structures that govern us." A counterpoint emerged from another user, stating, "There are legal avenues for activism. This is nothing more than anarchy wrapped in misguided heroism. #EthanHeist sets a dangerous precedent. People just want to lash out but don't have the testicles to do it themselves. So they cheer for a dangerous, deranged criminal like Ethan."

ChirpChat also became a battlefield where hashtags clashed. #EthanHero trended alongside #EthanTheMenace, reflecting the public's divided opinion. Public figures, including politicians and activists, joined the fray. CouncilwomanHimby tweeted, "While I understand the frustration with rising prices, resorting to criminal acts undermines the very principles we stand for as a nation. Let's channel our energies into constructive change. #EthanTheMenace." In a direct response, ManiacPantser posted, "Sometimes, unconventional actions are needed to wake people up. Ethan's gang might be the jolt our city needs. What our nation needs. Discuss. #EthanHeist"

Ethan's heist was being discussed all around. The city's streets pulsed with whispered conversations, debates in cafes, and discussions in the workplace. Ethan's gang became a talking point, a symbol of defiance, or a harbinger of chaos, depending on who you asked.

Inside a classroom, Cindy invited Jack to discuss something with him. An unedited video of the bank heist was playing on Cindy's phone. An excited look was plastered on Cindy's face as she brought up the idea of taking out Ethan and his gang. Jack wasn't against the idea, but catching them now would be practically impossible, even if they wanted to go on the offense and ambush them.

"We have no information, and Mr. Theo is completely against us going after Ethan and his gang." Jack reminded her.

"That doesn't mean we can't go out and look for clues on our own," Cindy argued.

"Cindy, do you really think they're going to go out and do some more crimes after getting away with this bank robbery? No way, they're going to lay low. And if they're smart, they're going to lay low for years. That's if they haven't already left the city." Jack retorted.

"But what if they aren't?" Cindy grinned.

"Do you know something I don't?" Jack asked, curious why she was keeping him at school for so long.

"I heard rumors of a girl at a nearby high school."

"Ahuh." Jack was listening.

"A girl that is known to not come from money suddenly purchasing a MarBling!? And I did some investigating. Her parents didn't win the lottery or anything. So, how is this high schooler suddenly buying cars, expensive purses, luxury brands, and other stuff without a job? She has to be a part of Ethan's crew!" Cindy exclaimed.

"Or, she found herself a sugar daddy." Jack retorted.

This momentarily stunned Cindy. She didn't investigate whether the girl had a boyfriend or not… "Damn it! I still think we should go ahead and investigate her! It's the only thing we have as a lead!" Cindy explained. "I really think we should listen to Mr. Theo and leave Ethan's gang alone. If he thinks it's too dangerous for us, then I have to agree with him. He's never steered us wrong before." Jack shared his true feelings.

"..." Cindy's blood was boiling to dispense justice. However, there was an unexpected benefit to Ethan's gang's rising popularity. "Fine. You're right. I'll drop it."

There were several criminals coming in from outside of the city, hoping to make their new start here after Tears's downfall and the positive reception of Ethan's gang. Cindy didn't need to go after the biggest and baddest so soon. She could fill her craving for fighting with those who don't know anything about how things are run in Krey with Diablo in charge. And once Ethan and his gang slip up, Diablo will be there to take them to Hell.

Namgo · Dec 24, 2023

Ethan didn't quite know how to handle the popularity of his developing criminal organization. Thanks to Butterfly, Ricky, Natalie, and Pinkie, all excitedly telling him in their group chat, Ethan learned that they had gathered quite the fanbase. He honestly didn't understand it. They were just fucking criminals. He didn't even have some grand purpose in doing these crimes. Maybe some of his employees did. Like Tyler, who cried when he gave him his first paycheck, but this crime stuff was only because of Poison. He didn't care about the rising prices or targeting the rich and the government, who refused to help those in the middle class and lower class. All in all, this crime stuff wasn't to make a statement but to get his dick wet, plain and simple.
But Ethan wasn't stupid enough not to know how to use a good thing when he had it. With all the money they stole over the past few months, it was prime time to start taking the gang to the next level. Elevating the business to something a little more professional and organized. He already had a specific plan in mind for when this step came, and he needed to move fast. People won't be interested in them forever. Now was the best time to use their fame to gain more employees for their next step.

So, Ethan chose to start up his own private security company. While he was doing that, it seemed Poison decided to help get them some new employees without his input or anything. As her slave, he couldn't really have a problem with that. Plus, they really did have more money than they knew what to do with. Surprisingly enough, a private security company didn't cost that much in the grand scheme of things when you had multiple millions. Only around 50k was spent on setting everything up. Still, plenty of money to pay some miscreants Poison somehow found for their gang.
She ordered him to help take out one of their potential competitors. The Slangin' Kings, before he could tell her the surprise about him starting up the security company. So, he had to spend a few weeks paying lowlives and criminals for information on the Slangin' Kings before reporting back to Poison.
Sometime later, Ethan didn't quite know how to react, holding his daemonic gun while surrounded by real gangsters holding heavy-duty automatic weapons. However, standing next to Poison, who was known as a Maneater by these people. Ethan didn't know if they really knew or if it was just a nickname.
"Listen closely…" Poison began explaining their purpose here tonight in front of this bar.
Ethan stood by dumbfounded as he participated in his first gunfight between gangs. He may have hid the whole time while blindly pulling the trigger. But no one can say he didn't pull his weight. The death cries, laughter from the gang members brought by Poison, the several thuds falling to the ground, and just the seemingly unending deafening sound of gunfire. All of those overstimulating sounds while in this stressful situation just sent his heart pumping into overload. Eventually, the sounds died down, and it was all over. What felt like hours of live combat was really only about a minute or two.
It didn't feel good. There was a stark difference between robbing shit from stores and businesses that the insurance would handle versus taking lives. It wasn't even really close. Ethan could feel himself hyperventilating once more. Perhaps with or without his input, his hand moved to his chest, resting on his daemonic gun there. He could feel his breathing slowing as his mind focused on what he was doing this for. Ethan couldn't lose sight of his purpose for working with an enemy of humanity.
With his heart rate finally back to normal, he popped his head up from cover and focused his eyes on Poison's amazingly tight ass. "Thank you." He didn't know who he was thanking but felt the need to do so—carefully keeping the corpses of the Slangin' Kings in his periphery visual. Ethan wondered if one of his bullets managed to hit those guys. Was he a murderer now?
He was an accomplice to murder for sure, but actually taking someone's life was a different matter than knowing about it. Ethan knew deep in his heart that this wasn't actually going to affect his actions or how he would behave in the future. But it'll definitely stick with him… In fact, as much as Ethan didn't want to see, he saw one corpse with a particularly large hole in their body. A normal bullet couldn't make that type of wound. A daemonic bullet, on the other hand… These guys may be equipped with automatics, but those bullets aren't huge. Ethan was a killer now.
A fact he had to accept. First, he was a traitor to humanity. Second, a thief. And now a murderer. Ethan wondered if all of this was going to be worth it in the end. He knew that Poison wanted revenge on Zoey Winters but then, after that, what? To rule the world? Enslave all of humanity? How was he going to compete with other slaves? No wait…
The true question was how the fuck was he going to fuck her! This question plagued Ethan's mind even after Poison sent the gangsters home. Jinx and Poison began devouring the bodies in the bar with accompanying ASMR eating sounds. Much to Ethan's displeasure… Seeing the woman you love bite into a dead man's skull and actively crunch on their skull and brain matter tested one's resolve for love a lot more than one might think. It was an arduous challenge, but not impossible.
Clutching his gun close to his body, his eyes focused on her alluring curves, beautiful breasts, and the thought of one day making all of that his. However, Poison wasn't satisfied, simply making it difficult for him. She began talking to him about their next step, forcing him to focus on her. Surprisingly, he realized it wasn't that difficult to do so even as she was emptying out that man's skull. Then he pulled away his daemonic weapon and felt like hurling.
"Are you unwell?" Poison looked at him with distaste.
"I'm fine." Ethan clutched his gun. "Just a normal human reaction to seeing corpses up close and personal." He felt better. This daemonic gun! Was it able to help him calm down? React better to things? He didn't know how to put it…
But he certainly knew that he didn't feel like throwing up at all while watching Poison and Jinx eat. Eventually, they decided to leave through a portal after hearing sirens. Jinx stored most of the corpses in a separate portal while they left through another portal. Maybe it was eating later? Hopefully, she wasn't storing them in his house. Ethan didn't know how to do anything, really. Getting the smell of corpses out of his house would certainly not be something he would even know the first step to doing. Nor would googling how to seem very safe.
When they returned home, Ethan finally dropped the news to Poison about the Private Security Company business he was starting. "How is this going to help us?" She asked. "All sorts of important people need security guards. Plus, this will let us operate legally and in public without the need for secrecy. It will be easier to pay our employees, hire our employees, and get to know those that run important parts of the city more once they hire us." Ethan explained. "And you were planning to tell me this when?" Poison narrowed her eyes.
"I was… busy getting information about Slangin' Kings…" Ethan admitted.
"Don't let it happen again. I do not like surprises." Poison lied.

While Poison seemed like she was upset with Ethan, she was actually pleased. Her plans were coming along quite well, thanks to him. In fact, she could get a lot done with this supposed private security company if it was true that they could get in touch with businesses and people in high places. Zoey Winters… Her revenge would be coming sooner than she thought.
The thought had crossed her mind to just simply arrive at her address and kill her in her sleep, but it was a thought for a reason. Poison had already discreetly attempted to step onto Zoey's property only to find herself faced with several magji traps that even someone of her strength would suffer heavy damage if she tried to force herself through. So, she would have to get her revenge in a sweeter and crueler way. It wasn't enough that she nearly killed her and ruined everything she worked for. She knew Zoey wouldn't hesitate to put an end to her if they met face to face now. So, why doesn't she ruin everything that Zoey has worked for? Her career, her parents, her little brother, her friends… All of them will suffer for what Zoey has done to her.

Namgo · Dec 30, 2023

Zoey sat in the first row seats of one of her students, Clementine, at the stadium. The stadium was small, but a few hundred people were in attendance, prepared to watch the match. Even now, the occasional flash of the cameras in her direction told her exactly why so many people were there. But Zoey stood strong as she was here to support her student. She was finally confident in getting them started in their fighting careers.

She wanted them to get into fighting in a healthy manner, unlike how Jack and Cindy turned out wanting to be real superheroes. So, she worked with Coach Scott to help them debut in the fighting world. Of course, to make things fairer for other young fighters, she had them split up across the world. They were Zoey's students, after all.

If she had them all start in Amerika's Youth Fighting Tournament League, no other talented young fighters in the country would get a chance to show off their stuff. Her students would just dominate the league, which wouldn't be fair to the others. So, she and Coach Scott decided to register them into fighting circuits across the world instead of just the Amerikan YFTL branch. This included other sports and fighting paths like wrestling, boxing, MMA, kickboxing, and the YFTL.

Right now, she was watching Clementine's debut match in the YFTL. Unfortunately, she couldn't watch all of their debut matches as much as she wanted to support all her students. She couldn't be in multiple places at once. Zoey decided to come to the East and support Clementine because she heard it was harder for foreigners to make something of themselves out here.

Out here, they knew her as the Black Devil. Zoey didn't know if it was a racist thing or what. She was being stared at like she was an exotic animal in a zoo just sitting here. A brief thought popped up in her mind that she was taking the focus away from her student and that she should leave. But Zoey tossed that thought right out of her head. Just because these people didn't know how to act didn't mean she couldn't be there for her students.

Since Zoey barely graduated from the 12th grade, she had until next spring before becoming a college gal. Helping her students begin their fighting careers is one of the things she decided to spend her time on while waiting for winter to be over. It would've been a lot of money sending her students all over the world, but Coach Scott has been making bands off of her and Dylan's fighting careers, apparently. He fully sponsored all the kids.

"There's our baby!" Clementine's mother, Ali Waters, excitedly whispered while pointing.

"Indeed." Clementine's father, Maximilian Waters, nodded his head.

Clementine's entrance into the ring was met with an unexpectedly hostile atmosphere. As she made her way towards the octagonal ring, her theme song blaring through the speakers, the audience's reaction took an unexpected turn. A growing murmur of disapproval filled the crowd. The pop song, which was trending among Amerika's youth, played loudly, but instead of eliciting excitement, it seemed to fuel the crowd's discontent. Clementine, seemingly oblivious to the shift in the audience's mood, continued to bounce her way to the ring, radiating an infectious energy with her waves and smiles.

Zoey couldn't help but notice the change in atmosphere. The stares directed at Clementine were no longer curious or intrigued; instead, they carried a hint of disdain and skepticism. It was as if the crowd had collectively decided to reject the young fighter, and the disapproving murmur grew louder as she approached the ring.

Coach Scott and the other cornermen, sensing the negative energy, closed in around Clementine as if forming a protective shield. The contrast between the jubilant music and the audience's discontent created an unsettling atmosphere in the stadium. Despite the palpable negativity, Clementine remained undeterred. Her genuine enthusiasm and excitement for the upcoming match seemed unaffected by the growing disapproval from the crowd. She continued to wave and smile, embracing the cheers she expected but didn't receive.

Zoey smiled as she saw how excited Clementine looked. Fighting should be a fun experience. It should be something worth looking forward to. She hoped she passed this on to all of her students. And fuck these assholes for not giving her student the respect she deserved.

Clementine locked eyes with her opponent, Hiroshi Tanaka, a young Japanese fighter making his way up the ranks while. She positively drowned in all the eyes that were focused on her right now. This was like the greatest moment in her entire life. All these people, focusing on her at once. Hundreds of literal, actual people. She felt infinite energy surging through her body from being the center of attention. When the reference announced her as Princess Hellia, she couldn't deny that a shiver went up her spine. Hearing the crowd cheer and shout stuff in a language she didn't understand after hearing her stage persona, Clementine didn't even hear him announce her opponent.

As the bell rang, signaling the start of the boxing match, a transformation overcame her. It was as if a switch was flipped, and her entire demeanor shifted. Her eyes locked onto Hiroshi with unwavering intensity, a fierce determination to win evident in her gaze. She assumed a boxing stance with a natural motion. Her feet planted firmly on the canvas, slightly wider than shoulder-width apart, providing a stable foundation. The lead foot positioned forward, she angled her body to present a narrower target, minimizing her opponent's chances to land clean shots. Her hands rose to guard her face, a fortress of defense. The lead hand, gloved and wrapped, hovered protectively near her chin, ready to snap out with lightning-fast jabs. The rear hand, coiled with potential energy, nestled near her cheek, prepared to deliver devastating power punches or swift counters.

Every muscle in her body tensed as she settled into the stance. Her weight was distributed evenly as she balanced the need for mobility and stability. Something her opponent instantly moved to change. As they neared one another, Hiroshi greeted her with a front kick aimed at her torso to gain some distance.

Clementine and the others weren't trained on how to handle kicks directly. Zoey taught them strictly grappling and striking. However, if you ask any of her students, they watched each of her fights no less than a dozen times. If Clementine didn't know how to deal with someone who liked kicks by now, she felt like she should like literally like end her life for being so dumb.

The young socialite dropped her guard as she grabbed the incoming foot. Just barely, she managed to hang on to it as he bounced to keep his balance. She felt him pull his foot back, an action she couldn't stop. Her grip wasn't good enough. But suddenly, he stopped trying to pull his foot away as he looked her in the eyes.

In her peripheral, she saw his other foot leaping off of the ground to clip her in the side of the head. Narrowly ducking just in time, she rushed forward and grabbed him before he could fall to the canvas. Utilizing all the strength in her body as the body similar to her in height and size fought to resist and break out of her hold, Clementine lifted him high in the sky as the audience was screaming with cheers.

The back of her opponent's head hit the canvas first as Clementine slammed him to the mat. Just as she was about to lift him up once more and repeat her action, the referee stopped her by pulling her arms from her opponent's waist. When Clementine let go, he flopped to the mat like a ragdoll, and everyone was booing in disapproval of her victory.

Clementine hopped up to her feet as she started performing her celebration dance she thought of just for when she won! Initially, she didn't even register the fact that everyone was booing her instead of cheering. All she was thinking about were those hundreds of eyes and cameras on her! She was about to be super famous! ClickClock, DigiConnect, GramShare, ChirpChat, FlashTalk, she was going to become trending on all of those websites! While she was dancing, she noticed Miss Devil staring at her with a smile. This was the greatest debut ever!

"Is that really her?"

"According to what I was told, yes."

"What is she doing wasting her time with crap like this?"

"That's one of her students. She was there supporting them."

"Is she a magjistar too?"

"No, Clementine Waters is a gully. Winters trains gullies, teaching them how to fight in exchange for money and fame."

"And the point of that is…"

"She was expelled from her local magjistar branch. Her connection to the world of magji is few and almost nonexistent."

"Really?! Damn. How the hell do you get expelled from being a magjistar? Did she reveal magji in front of the gullies or something?"

"No. I'm not sure of the full story. All I know is Victor Khan is dead. His only apprentice, Zoey Winters, was expelled from the magjistar branch. And she's living her life in the regular world as a professional fighter."

"Victor Khan is dead!? The S-Grade magjistar?!"

"Correct."

"How the hell did he kick the bucket?! Aren't those guys strong enough to take over countries by themselves?! Is there a daemon that strong in Amerika?"

"I'm unsure. All they reported was the confirmation of his death. There were no reports of any daemons or anything. If there was, they'd request help from other branches."

"So tell me how that girl is supposed to help us with our problem."

"She's strong enough to be expelled and not have her magji gates sealed."

"Oh…"

"Exactly. Only S-Grade magjistars get treatment like that since they cannot be subdued by anything other than another S-Grade magjistar, daemon, or an object of that level."

"How are we going to convince her then? I don't think she's lacking money based on these pictures…"

"We ask her."

"Ask her? Like, ask her nicely with a pretty, please? That's your big plan? Really?"

"When you're rich, there isn't much you lack. We can only hope to appeal to her sense of empathy if there is truly nothing else she desires."

"I can't believe you roped me into this impossible plan."

"It's our only hope if we want to beat those evil bastards before they ruin everything. Hundreds of lives are going to be ruined if we don't do anything."

"Fine, stop screaming. I get it." They sighed. "Let's go see if she has a heart for the desperate and pitiful…"

AN: The start of a new arc. It might be the second to final arc or final arc, if I'm being honest. Share with me your thoughts on what I should include in the story as we make our way to the final chapter!

Namgo · Dec 31, 2023

Zoey was sprawled out listlessly in her bed. She looked at the ceiling of her room as she felt a yawn forcing itself out of her mouth. Now that she graduated, she had so much free time. Although she had several things she could do, it felt both good and wasteful to just sit right here in her comfortable ass bed doing nothing. She could be gaming, hitting up one of her friends to hang out, hunting daemons, looking for a new FTL opponent, or training for the upcoming Olympic Trials. But honestly, this stupidly expensive bed that cost more money than she had ever spent on furniture before felt so damn good.

It was like being hugged and caressed by fluffy clouds from heaven. Her body sunk into the blissful softness, and it kept her trapped with comfort and love. She really wanted to do something, but at the same time, she really didn't want to do anything at all. If she used her brain, she didn't really need to train for the Olympic Trials. Zoey had already gone beyond the physical fitness of humans. Her go-to strategy for track was being just slightly in front of the person in second place to hide her superhuman physique.

With the exception of very strong daemons and magjistars, there wasn't any human that was faster or stronger than her. She focused too much on her Body stat for that to be a possibility. Zoey didn't regret her heavy focus on Body instead of Mental and Magic. It's saved her life more times than she could count. But it did make her start to think.

Zoey's potential was infinite as far as she knew with the Box. Sure, some skills had reached their maximum level, but she didn't know if there was a limit on the number of skills she could get. This meant she could get multiple times stronger than she is right now still! A scary thought when Zoey felt like she was reaching her limit as a fighter and a magjistar. There was no real challenge anymore.

'If you really want a challenge, I got an idea…' Inner Zoey happily spoke up.

'No thanks.' Zoey was just complaining for the sake of complaining.

'We both know that isn't true. You're getting bored with this life of peace, comfort, fame, and luxury.'

'This is everything I've always wanted. Well, except for the famous part. But the money, friends, and comfort. I literally couldn't ask for anything else. Except maybe a boyfriend."' Zoey argued.

'Humans are all greedy sacks of shit. You might be able to lie to yourself, but you can't lie to me, Zoey. I'm everything you've wanted to hide away from the world. Ever since we were a little girl, and you received your first whopping. Don't you remember thinking about what if your mom just died or disappeared forever? That way, she couldn't hurt you ever again. Back then, we weren't strong enough to stop her, to hurt her with anything but our words. But we both knew that telling her we hated her wasn't anything compared to the pain we felt with that belt or hand on our bottom. I know what you really want, deep down inside.' Inner Zoey's voice curled into a chilling smile that Zoey could imagine.

'And what's that?' Zoey felt that she already knew exactly what her other self was going to say…

'Violence,' she sang, the word echoing in Zoey's mind like a haunting melody. Inner Zoey's voice resonated with a disconcerting familiarity that Zoey couldn't escape.

In that moment, the room seemed to close in on her, the plush comfort of her bed transforming into restricting chains. The allure of peace and social success clashed with the dormant yearning for something more primal, something she somewhat hid within herself. Inner Zoey showed her explicit imaginary scenes of her fighting against the world. Using her boxing skills to tear apart magjistars with power, speed, and technique. Shattering daemons into blood stains and pieces with her grappling. Destroying both magjistars and daemons alike through a combination of her fighting and magji. Zoey forced herself out of bed as she tried to block out the incredibly clear scenes playing out in her mind.

"Break his spine!"

"Try out that Heartbreaker punch you've been thinking about for so long!"

"Holy shit! I didn't think you could break someone's leg with a low punch like that. You might as well finish her off than leaving her to suffer as a cripple for the rest of her life." Inner Zoey cheered.

Zoey ran out of her room. She had to leave. She had to think about something else. She couldn't go down this route. What would Victor think? What would her friends think? Her family?! Jogging down the street, Zoey desperately attempted to shake her mind of the feelings crawling their way up from deep down.

'Why are you running from who you really are?'

'All of our potential going to waste.'

'And for what?! We could change the world for the better! We could do anything we put our minds to! Why waste it playing along with the whims of those weaker than us? Why hide and limit yourself to playing along with them like you're anything like them anymore?'

'We both know we're more than human by now. With the Box, we can take over the world! We can rule it and shape it into something far better. A world where we have nothing to fear for those we love and care for. A world where we can fight for as long as we like. With actual opponents who can push a superior being like ourselves.'

'You're fucking crazy… I never wanted anything like that,' Zoey spat. 'Ruling the world? Changing it how we want? That's fucking stupid. I'm not some fucking comic book villain.'

"Sure, I like to fight. I like it a little bit more than the average person. But just because I'm feeling a little bored with how great everything in my life is going doesn't mean I need to do something so freaking stupid!" Zoey yelled.

Zoey, still breathless from her emotional outburst, scanned the unfamiliar faces around her. The realization of her public display hit her, and she took a moment to collect herself. "What the hell am I doing?" Zoey muttered under her breath, her fists clenching and unclenching involuntarily. "Hey, you okay?" a passerby asked, concern etched on their face. "Yeah, yeah, just was singing a really good part of a song," Zoey replied, attempting to dismiss the awkward tension she felt in the air. The onlookers shrugged and continued on their way, leaving Zoey alone with her internal turmoil.

'Alright. I may have come on a little too strong. I'm sorry.' Inner Zoey apologized.

"Don't talk to me for a while, okay?" Zoey requested.

'I'll think about it.' Inner Zoey went quiet after that. 'Bitch.'

Zoey walked through the cold winter streets in silence. She couldn't say that she never thought about the things her other self talked about. The stronger she became, intentionally or not, the harder it was to suppress the feeling of wanting to test that strength. Was it crazy to say that she missed the times when she was constantly losing and struggling to face off against people? Probably, right?

It wasn't like Zoey could just stop becoming stronger, either. She's like a drug addict when seeing the numbers go up on the Box. Neither has she stopped her daily morning workouts that professional top-end athletes would struggle to finish. It was when she thought about the possibility of never having another satisfying fight again that those bad thoughts sprouted.

"Maybe it's time to go to therapy." Zoey decided. Money was no longer an issue, and she had more time on her hands than she knew what to do with.

Just as she decided to make this potentially life-changing decision, two figures approached Zoey. A guy and a girl. She didn't think they were fans because they didn't look excited to meet her. She couldn't think of a single damn reason why two strangers would approach someone like her on the street if they weren't her fans. So, she made eye contact with them as they stopped in front of her.

"Excuse us, are you Zoey Winters?" The guy asked.

"Yes?" Zoey considered lying, but they would easily catch her in that lie if they just typed her name into their phone's search engine.

"Do you mind if we have a private talk with you?" He politely asked.

"Why?" Zoey wasn't just going to follow some strangers for no reason.

"It's not appropriate to discuss this in front of so many… gullies." He whispered the last part.

Zoey's eyes narrowed as her fists clenched. In an instant, she seemed to transform into a terrifying predator ready to pounce on her prey. The magjistars tensed up as they involuntarily prepared themselves for survival, their mahna spiking from their bodies. Sweat dripped down their bodies while the need to chant a magji spell was rising from their throats.

"Wait! We just want to talk!" The guy clearly stated with his hands raised.

"Follow me," Zoey demanded. "Walk in front."

"Hey! We aren't-" The girl's male companion glared at her, shushing her before she could finish whatever she was about to announce loudly.

The two did as Zoey said as she led them somewhere a little more private. In this position, she'd be able to get the drop on them easily if they tried anything. As far as Zoey knew, she was still the number one public enemy in the world of magji. They might be ignoring her after what happened with Victor, but she knew they wouldn't be forgetting her anytime soon.

Namgo · Jan 6, 2024

As Zoey led the two strangers to a more secluded area, her senses heightened for any signs of mahna or sudden movements. The city's sounds faded into the background as they reached a quiet snowy alley, away from prying eyes. Once they were away from the bustling streets, Zoey allowed them to turn around and face her. Her gaze was sharp, evaluating every nuance of their expressions and body language. The guy took a cautious step forward as he cleared his throat.

"We're not here for trouble," he reiterated, sensing the tension in the air. "We came here to request something of you…"

Inner Zoey crossed her arms, maintaining a defensive stance. "And what the hell would the magji world want with someone like me, who they expelled?" She asked. The girl, who had remained mostly silent, finally spoke up. "We aren't from that branch of the OM." She made their stance clear. Zoey's skepticism deepened. "How did you hear about me then?" As far as Zoey knew, she never met anyone from another magji branch. Unless she counted that foreign magjistar, she fought once. Then again, she didn't even know if they had magjistar branches over wherever she was from.

The girl looked irritated as she continued. "Every branch of the Organization of Magjistars knows you in some way. You are S-Grade Victor Khan's only legacy before his mysterious passing. Information like that isn't just hidden, S-Grades are too important for people to not know everything about them." She snorted as if this information was common knowledge. Common knowledge was something that Zoey was sorely lacking when it came to the world of magji, for the most part.

Zoey's expression remained stoic. "What do you want from me?" She asked flat out. They glanced at each other. Zoey kept her guard up, ready to go on the offense at any moment. "As Victor Khan's only apprentice, we have no doubt that you are incredibly strong, right?" He asked as if he didn't already know. "Depends. Why do you want to know?" Zoey didn't know the limits of her full strength, but she was confident in saying she was strong, at least.

"We need your freaking help!" The girl threw her hands up into the air, seemingly frustrated. "I don't know what the hell made you so paranoid, but if you can't even answer a few questions without getting your panties in a twist, I don't see how you'd be any help to us!"

Zoey turned her attention to the guy who was burying his face in his hands. "Please give us a moment." He forcefully dragged the girl out of the alleyway as he began whisper shouting at her. At this point, Zoey no longer thought they could be assassins or people planning to kill her. She was slightly interested in what kind of help they needed. It seems they were pretty desperate to try and ask her for help when they didn't know shit about her except that she was Victor's student.

When they returned, the girl looked a lot calmer. "I apologize for my outburst… The lives of people I care about dearly are at stake, and I'm very wound up and have mistakenly taken it out on you." She sounded like she was pulling teeth saying this. Zoey thought if what she was saying was true, she could at least have some sincerity when asking for help.

"Is there any way we could convince you to help us out?" Actual sincerity came from the guy's voice.

"What is it that you need help with?" Zoey didn't mind hearing them out.

She might have nothing to do, but that didn't mean she would just involve herself in anything. There had to be something for Zoey to gain out of this. She may have played a hero with her students, but regular Zoey ain't no selfless bitch doing things out of the goodness of her heart and shit. Boundless was only for her students.

"We need your strength. The talent of someone an S-Grade magjistar trusted enough to make their apprentice. Our OM branch is at risk of being overtaken and overthrown by a group of criminal magjistars." He explained.

"How'd that happen?" Zoey wondered aloud.

"It's a long story…" He sheepishly admitted.

"So you want me to what? Kill these guys? Beat 'em up? Stop them with violence since your branch is too weak to? Do you guys not have your own S-Grade magjistar?" Zoey bluntly questioned.

It was just a moment, but she saw the girl twitch at what she said. "S-Grade magjistars aren't that common… If every branch had one, there'd be no daemons left in the world." He explained. "But, we need your strength if we want to stand a chance against these people. We are not strong enough to deal with them on our own…"

"So why me and not another branch?" Inner Zoey suddenly realized. It didn't make a lot of sense to ask someone like her for help instead of another legitimate branch of the OM. If a group of criminals took over a police station or a government building, they definitely wouldn't ask someone who wasn't affiliated with one of those two places.

"They won't believe us…" He revealed. "The people in charge of running our branch are either in cahoots with the criminals or being blinded by those in touch with them. So, if we ran to another OM branch to ask for help, they'd confirm it with one of the higher-ups at our branch." He explained while looking into her eyes before realizing he should probably continue. "Which means they'd find out that we know about them and we're looking to hurt their interests. Which could lead to the deaths of us and the people we care about."

"So, I'm just the strongest person, you know?" Zoey tried simplifying it for herself.

"Yes." He answered curtly.

"What do I get risking my life to help you guys out?" Zoey was interested in what he had to offer.

Despair seemed to hit him all at once when he heard those words come out of her lips. His shoulders slumped, and his gaze dropped to the ground, almost as if the weight of the world had settled on him. It was an instinctual reaction. He so desperately wished that Zoey Winters wasn't one of those people who cared more about themselves than other people. It would've made this so much less humiliating. But, the world was never fair…

He dropped to his knees before bowing toward Zoey, his forehead touching the dirty alleyway ground. "Please. I'm willing to do anything if you help us out. I will give you all of my material positions, knowledge, and even my own life if you need it. I beg of you, please, help us…"

Zoey frowned. Now this made her look like a fucking bad guy. Inner Zoey was laughing her ass off, irritating her even more. This guy was making her look like an asshole for asking a reasonable question. No matter how she answered, if it wasn't a yes, she'd be some sort of fucking monster for condemning several people to death apparently because she didn't do the right thing and help them out. But Zoey wasn't born yesterday. She wasn't some sucker that a sob story by a stranger could convince her to do anything.

She took a moment to think before replying. She saw the pissed-off look on the girl's face but didn't think much of it. Zoey focused on what she could gain from helping these people out. Helping an entire OM branch. Having hundreds of magjistars in her debt…

'We could make a magji clan!' Inner Zoey suggested.

'And do what? Start a magji clan war with other clans till we're the strongest and in charge?' Zoey sarcastically responded.

'It sounds fun, doesn't it?!'

'It sounds fucking stupid.'

'Wha? What's wrong with it? Teaching, fighting. You love those things!'

'If I did that, it would be no different from spitting on what Victor wanted for me. I'm not going to make enemies for the sake of my own battle lust. He wanted us to make friends and stuff…' Zoey was feeling an idea coming on.

'No…' Inner Zoey tried to stop her. 'How the fuck you gone live your life for someone else? I thought Zoey was a bad bitch that did what Zoey wanted.'

'This is what I want.' Zoey stated.

A group consisting of daemons and magjistars that'll expand outside of the OM and to other parts of the world! Bringing peace between two races that have warred for who knows how long! Victor would love that! Zoey would make so many friends that asshole could only smile and praise her for doing so damn good of a job. Plus, she wouldn't become some psychopath focused only on fighting and making the world a worse place since she was doing a thing that was good for the planet. War was bad, after all, wasn't it?

"Okay. I'll help you." Zoey made up her mind as Inner Zoey went surprisingly silent at her choice.

Namgo · Jan 7, 2024

Zoey flew out of the state after deciding to help Peter and Jelena. Since her students were busy in their fighting circuits, her departure was a lot less tearful than it would have been if they had shown up. Only her mom, dad, and brother came to see her off at the airport. If it was up to her, they wouldn't have even been at the airport, but their only daughter couldn't just get up and leave for who knows how long without them knowing and caring about it. Zoey may be an adult who could really do whatever she wanted now that she was eighteen, but that didn't mean anything to Alicia Winters. Zoey was and always will be her baby, apparently.

Peter and Jelena apparently had their own way back, not that Zoey would've spent money on tickets for them in the first place. They needed her help. It would be messed up if she had to go help them out, but they haven't even prepared anything for her. She'd actually laugh at the ridiculousness of it if she had to do everything.

So, Zoey enjoyed her first-class flight with Tink hidden in her clothes. A few hours of peace, relaxation, and comfort. Something she could've gotten if she had stayed at home and decided not to help some strangers out, but still. Bringing about peace between two eternal enemies sounded pretty exciting! Even if she had to do a side quest before being able to move on to that main quest, it was still something to look forward to.

'Aren't you afraid of a peaceful world?' Inner Zoey giggled.

'Why would I be afraid of a good thing?' Zoey replied, still a bit pissed at her other self.

'You're probably gonna blow your brains out if you do accomplish it, you know that, right?' Inner Zoey said confidently.

'Shut up.' Zoey tuned out her other half as she and Tink secretly played a competitive game on her phone.

When she arrived at the airport in Bigguns, Rhede, Peter, and Jelena were already there waiting for her. They didn't lead her to a car or anything, unfortunately. She was expected to carry her suitcase and walk alongside them as they left the airport. So far, she has not been very happy as their guest and help. Hopefully, they had a nice place for her to stay. If she had to pay for a hotel for herself, she'd be even more upset.

"Where are we going?" Zoey asked. She had half a mind to tell them to carry her suitcase for her.

"Our OM branch," Peter answered.

"I've never been to another magjistar community. I wonder if it looks any different from Luminaurora!" Tink chatted.

"I wonder if they have magjistars that aren't humans," Zoey replied.

"Probably not." Tink laughed. "Magjistars are a humans only job!"

"Why?" Zoey was curious.

"If something happened while they were taking care of daemons, regular humans would learn about the existence of them!" Tink confidently explained.

"Oooh." Zoey clapped as the thought didn't register in her mind. "But don't they have magji disguises or something they can use to disguise as humans? Or do they live in those magji communities all their lives without ever leaving?"

"I don't know!" Tink's tone of voice was just as confident as before. "I lived in Luminaurora all my life before I met you."

"But daemons have access to magji disguises that let them disguise themselves as humans. How the.." Zoey censored herself. "How come the OM can't do this when daemons can?"

"I don't know!" Tink happily responded.

Zoey would've turned her attention to Peter and Jelena, but she doubted these two really knew anything. They didn't seem like anyone important or know anyone who would know about stuff like this. Actually… That reminded her of something she probably should've asked them when she agreed to help them out. "What grade are you two?" Zoey brought up.

"C-Grade," Peter answered.

"B-Grade." Jelena raised her nose with pride.

"Really?" Zoey inexplicably blurted out.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Jelena turned to Zoey.

"I didn't mean any offense. Peter just seems more like a B-Grade." Zoey admitted.

Peter let out a chuckle as he gently rubbed Jelena's head in an attempt to calm her. "You aren't exactly wrong. I would be a B-Grade magjistar, but I got mixed up in some trouble that prevented me from advancing in rank." He explained. Zoey was surprised, to be honest. When she compared them to Alexander and Lindsay, these two didn't seem that talented. But then again, Zoey personally trained those two for some time. It wasn't exactly fair to compare Peter and Jelena to those two when they received the benefits of Teaching.

Lindsay and Alexander were both B-Grade magjistars despite being stronger than their actual ranks. She wondered if the OM branch was weaker over here compared to her old one. Because she knew for a fact that neither Lindsay nor Alexander would lose against these two, don't ask her why she was so confident in that thought. It was just a feeling she had as a fighter. Lindsay or Alexander would be able to wipe the floor against these two by themselves.

Maybe it was her pride speaking as their teacher, but then she thought about Caroline or Joseph or even that one girl with the spiked metal bat. Zoey stopped thinking about it. Eventually, she would see how strong they were for herself unless they were planning to make her do everything for them. Then she'll have to take more of a cut than she was planning to after helping them out.

"What trouble?" Zoey asked. She didn't really have anything else to talk about.

"He beat up the son of someone high up in the OM. Now, no one wanted to approve him to rank up to B-Grade because they don't want to be on the bad side of the jerk's dad." Jelena explained.

"Oh, you guys have corrupt guys over here, too, huh?" Zoey wasn't surprised.

"Haha! Zoey nearly took down the whole branch because of people like that!" Tink remembered.

Both Jelena and Peter went silent at that instead of laughing along. They were processing the words that came out of that fairie's mouth and trying to comprehend what they meant despite them being fairly straightforward. Taking down a whole branch? By herself? Even as a joke, that's a little much.

Eventually, they arrived in the magji community in this state. One second, they were standing in front of a brick wall in the middle of a ghost town. Peter tapped on the brick wall with mahna infused in his hand, and the wall spun sideways. When they walked through, Jelena introduced her to the magji city in Rhede. "Welcome to Dhara." A rare smile formed on Jelena's face.

Dhara, a city of steel and glass, sprawled across the landscape. Here, modernity surged from the bustling core of commerce, proving that magjistars and the modern world were evolving alongside each other. The city embraced the zenith of innovation, its skyline punctuated by towering skyscrapers that nearly reached the clouds. These giants of architecture, adorned with digital billboards and brilliant lights, bathed Dhara in a luminous glow, creating a visual symphony that harmonized with the pulsating heartbeat of the amazing metropolis.

In Dhara, commerce and social interaction twirled in tandem. Magjismith shops flanked the bustling streets, each one a battleground where an array of enchanted tools vied for the attention of discerning customers. Magjistars and magji races engaged in spirited discussions about the latest magji innovations, their eyes sparkling with the thrill of new possibilities. Dhara's markets, a mixture of color and wonder, boasted stalls teeming with magji spell books, savage mindless daemons for aspiring summoners, and a cornucopia of daemonic objects that whispered promises of extraordinary powers at a cost.

As lively conversations filled the air, the animated city reveled in the bright sunny day. The street performers in Dhara were a dynamic ensemble. Their vibrant expressions, and lively performances captured the attention of those walking down the sidewalk. Using their learned magji and connate magji for the sake of earning money or to expand their own careers as entertainers. The sounds of melodic tunes and rhythmic beats filled the air, creating a vivacious backdrop that enhanced the overall atmosphere of the bustling streets.

Beneath the sprawling branches of the majestic tree in the tranquil corner of the park, a diverse circle of magji creatures had gathered, representing a colorful group of magji beings. A Doppelganger, their form fluid and ever-changing, engaged in conversation with a Winged One, a Wendigo, a Fishman, and a Minotaur, completed the ensemble.

"You guys should be screaming for joy that a group of magjistars is finally seeing it our way." The Doppelganger said, their form shifting as the others.

"I still think it's a stupid trick. Probably just a test to see who's stupid enough to join them for their hides to get skinned and used as ingredients for magjistars." The Minotaur grumbled.

"It would be nice to fly around the world without having to worry about being taken care of because a gully spotted me flying." The Winged One added, their large wings stretched outward.

"I always hated living under the thumbs of both gullys and magjistars. If I join them, I could get rid of one of those two things." The Wendigo noted.

"You should be more careful saying stuff like that aloud. You know we're not supposed to talk bad about magjistars." The long-necked Fishman jabbed the Wendigo's shoulder.

"I'm just saying what we're all thinking." The Wendigo shrugged. "You guys planning to go check it out? I am."

"I'll go take a look." The Doppelganger responded.

"Too risky." The Minotaur firmly denied his involvement.

"I agree. I'll wait and see how everything plays out from a distance. If it turns out well, then I'll think about joining." The Fishman agreed with using caution.

"Heh, some things you gotta snatch it when you can. I'm confident this is one of those times." The Wendigo grinned.

"Tell us how it goes if you're still alive in a week." The Minotaur told him.

Namgo · Jan 13, 2024

"So, what's the plan?" Zoey longed out at the shitty hideout these two were using.

The hideout, tucked away in a forgotten corner of the city, bore the unmistakable signs of neglect and abandonment. Its weathered exterior, clad in peeling paint and cracked bricks, told tales of years gone by. The structure stood as something forgotten in time, with each creaking beam and worn-out plank reminding those of its age. Inside, the air was thick with a musty scent, a lingering reminder of neglect and disuse. Peeling posters and graffiti remnants adorned the walls. The furnishings, if they could be called that, were a haphazard collection of mismatched items salvaged from thrift stores and curbside discards. A worn-out sofa that wasn't comfortable in the slightest. A rickety table, which seemed like it was about to break just with her resting her feet on top of it.

The room was dimly lit, with a single flickering light bulb being the sole source of light. The windows were broken with sharp shards still below them. All in all, Zoey was incredibly unhappy and wanted to get started already. She was not staying in this place and was going to finish this job, mission, quest? As soon as possible.

"You will go to their recruitment drive they're having. Get accepted into their group. And then act as a spy for us. Feed us information to help protect Dhara." Peter explained.

'Ooh! A spy mission! This sounds fun! Let me do it!' Inner Zoey volunteered.

"Hold on. What are you going to do with the information I get anyway? Who is going to listen to us even if they really are planning bad stuff?" Zoey argued.

'You suck at acting. I can be a good, bad guy. Trust me! Let me join the bad guy group as a spy!' Inner Zoey continued excitedly.

"She's right. We do need proof… besides our words." Jelena seemed bothered about agreeing with Zoey. Her attitude was starting to piss her off.

"Zoey, we'll need you to gather hard evidence for us." Peter looked at her.

"I do everything, and you guys do what exactly?" Zoey wanted to be clear.

"We'll use that hard evidence that you give us and put it into the hands of someone who can help us reveal the truth about those people. Once the truth is out there, they'll be treated like the criminals they are."

"Right…" Zoey muttered. "Criminals that want to do what again?" Zoey doesn't believe she heard what they were bad guys for yet.

"They want to reveal magji to gullies and have them serve as slaves to magjistars," Jelena explained in a simple manner.

"Really?" Zoey couldn't help but laugh. It sounded like something straight out of an 80s superhero cartoon.

"It isn't funny! This is serious!" Jelena felt the need to raise her voice.

"Oh." Zoey knew it was serious, but she didn't feel like arguing with this girl.

She kind of didn't like her. Her attitude was bad. "Alright. I'll go to the thing, try to get accepted, and then share any information I get with you two. Then, hopefully, before they take over the world or whatever, you two manage to get enough help to destroy them?" Zoey felt that this plan was really stupid and that was coming from her.

"More or less." Peter nervously smiled.

"Why can't I just beat up the guy in charge?" Zoey had to ask.

"That won't solve the core issue…" Peter said with a resigned tone. "While beating up the leader would setback the group, the people with these thoughts won't just disappear. They'll just go into hiding before attempting to build up their numbers again," he explained.

"..." Zoey realized this mission was becoming a lot harder than beating up some magjistars like she thought… "I can't trust you two. Give me a minute." Zoey started dialing someone on her phone.

"You can't trust us?" Peter sounded like he was in disbelief.

"Hey, Prometheus, I need some help." Zoey began explaining the information to the smartest person she knew.

In a matter of seconds, Prometheus advised her against involving herself in the problems of another branch of the OM. When Zoey wanted to continue regardless of his warning, he asked her why. Zoey went silent. Being honest and coming clean to Prometheus about her reason for doing all of this didn't seem like a good idea when he could tell her all the ways it was a terrible and stupid idea. "Please be honest with me." He requested after moments of her silence.

So, she admitted the truth. "To help the world become a better place." Inner Zoey burst out laughing after hearing the half-truth that came spilling out of Zoey's mouth. 'Instead of just lying or actually telling the truth, you fucking- hahaha!" Zoey blushed at the laughter as she heard complete silence from Prometheus on the other line.

"Didn't I ask you to get in contact with me first before attempting to reconcile the feud between daemons and magjistars?" Prometheus sighed.

"I forgot." Zoey somewhat told the truth.

She did forget but didn't forget, that running all of her ideas and plans through Prometheus would be a lot better than if she just tried to think on her own. "Give me a moment…" He politely asked. Both Zoey's could hear the frustration or irritation or tiredness in his voice. They didn't know which emotions he was feeling, but she'd be tired of her shit, too, to be honest. She was kind of a handful.

Jelena and Peter silently listened to Zoey talking to this mysterious figure. A mysterious person she trusted enough to share everything with about the situation and ask for advice on how best to succeed. They waited for several minutes before Zoey told them to get something to write with. She then put the phone on speaker as the person on the other side began explaining a detailed step-by-step process of how they should proceed if they wished to help this Dhara and this OM branch without any loose ends. Both Jelena and Peter wrote down the instructions of the deep-voiced man.

They didn't know who he was, but as they listened to the words coming out of his mouth, they trusted him a lot more. His plan was far better than the haphazard plan Peter and Jelena cooked up over the course of several weeks. And it didn't even take him an hour to think of this! Whoever this man was, he had to be an amazing magjistar.

By following this plan, they could clean up the leader of this criminal group, gain the support of the magjistars in their branch, and prevent any severe damages from coming to the people of Dhara and non-magji people! Peter's heart lightened by ten pounds. This was such a relief…

"Thank you, Zoey. I truly mean it." Peter slightly bowed his head toward his savior.

"Thank me when it's all over." Zoey swapped with her other self as she prepared to head to the recruitment place.

The recruitment place, hidden in a rather open part of Dhara that led underground, pulsed with a tense atmosphere. The organizers, openly revealing their faces, observed the gathering crowd with calculating gazes. They understood the magnitude of their mission. A figure who stepped forward was one of the organizers of this recruitment drive. His dark hair was neatly styled, framing a face marked by sharp features that exuded both intelligence and intrigue. The intensity in his eyes hinted at a fervent belief in this cause.

The man wore a sleek, tailored suit. Next to the man were his two colleagues. One had electric-blue eyes, a long dress, and absolute boredom reflected in her eyes as she looked at the crowd below the stage. The other member had silver hair that shimmered like moonlight. His cunning smile looked as if he was looking forward to something.

"Welcome, everyone," his voice echoed through the air. "First, I'd like to thank you all for coming." A polite smile painted the man's face. "Unfortunately, I must let you all know that not everyone here will be capable of joining our group. There will be a test soon to determine the valids from invalids."

"What kind of test!?" Someone shouted.

"Before I go into that, I must explain to you what our organization is about," the figure continued with a cough. "I'm sure most of you came here to know exactly what our group is about, correct?"

"Yeah!" The same guy from before shouted.

"Our group has a straightforward purpose. All we want is to be able to use our blood-born gift of magji without having to worry about getting our magji gates sealed because some gully witnessed us using magji." He explained. "We believe that the time of the lesser race to hold such power over us should come to an end. No longer shall magjistars and magji creatures have to hide away and restrain themselves from using what is instinctual to us. No longer will we be the ones at their mercy and control!" His voice rose in pitch near the end.

"Hell yeah!" That one guy cheered.

The diverse assembly of magjistars and magji creatures roared at his words.

"If you believe that the status quo needs to be changed like us, then please stay and participate in our test. If you think otherwise, you may leave at this time as I explain the rules of the upcoming test."

A portion of the crowd slowly shuffled their way to the back. One of the organizers nudged the other. The woman in the dress vanished from the stage with a small smile on her face as the door closed behind the people uninterested. At this time, the other organizer began to explain the rules of the test. It was quite simple and not something for most to be worried about. He explained that if they truly wished to change the rules of society, they needed to have the conviction and strength to do so. Those who are the last remaining standing out of all of those around them will be eligible to join.

All hell broke loose as the crowd erupted into action without hesitation. The sounds of physical clashes and magji echoed through the recruitment place as the brawl unfolded. As the signal to start was given, chaos erupted like a storm. Magjistars, each possessing their own unique spells, clashed in a dazzling display of magji. Magji creatures unleashed their innate strengths, and the air boomed from the conflicting forces.

Namgo · Jan 14, 2024

Inner Zoey was pretty damn happy about this development. Since the other side of herself sucked at acting, she was perfect for a spy mission like this, where she had to act on the bad guy's team! She wouldn't have to restrain herself at all! And now these guys want them to fight in some big ass brawl in this cramped ass room? Zoey couldn't be happier! The thought of why they wouldn't want more members didn't make sense to her, but she wasn't a bad guy, so how could she!?

When the guys on the stage gave them the go-ahead, Zoey's eyes caught sight of the huge minotaur guy swinging his arms around like a cyclone. She couldn't help but grin as she ducked underneath his thick arms while others went flying into the crowd around them. "Oh, you survived that!?" He smiled at her. "I'm not that weak." Zoey got in a low, wide stance resembling that of a grappler. "I'll be the judge of that!" He mimicked her stance before rushing toward her.

The collision of strength between Zoey and the minotaur sent tremors through the immediate vicinity. The physicality of the confrontation was evident in the bulging veins that adorned their muscular arms, each vessel pulsating with the exertion of power. Beads of sweat glistened on their foreheads as they poured their physical prowess into the showdown. The minotaur's expression revealed a mix of surprise and respect. This pipsqueak was a lot stronger than she looked! Haha, what the hell?! In response, Zoey's equally manic expression was no different from the bull's joy. However, it was hidden underneath the panda mask she was wearing.

The seemingly equal clash changed in an instant as Zoey put to use the grappling skills she gained from fighting daemons and the training from a world champion grappler. She stopped using her own strength in an attempt to overpower the minotaur, allowing him to push her backward. Moving with the push, Zoey fell backward while also locking her fingers around the back of the Minotaur's hands. Using her legs, she lifted the Minotaur above her feet. At this point, it looked like they were performing a circus routine.

The minotaur was being held in the air by Zoey's feet before she rolled backward and was now standing on his chest while looking down on him. In this position, it was far more difficult for the minotaur to exert his strength compared to Zoey, who just had to press down. She ground her feet in his chest to keep a better balance. The minotaur couldn't even speak as he gritted his teeth and did his utmost to reverse the position he was in.

A feat that was only accomplished thanks to someone intervening in the middle of their tussle. Zoey attempted to stop holding hands with the minotaur, but he doubled down despite her pressing down on his ribcage. He, too, saw the incoming leaping Viperian aiming to attack Zoey. In the blink of an eye, Zoey and the minotaur teleported into the air. A flying body passed by them as Zoey pulled the bullhead toward herself and repositioned them.

The Viperian looked around, confused at the sight of her prey disappearing in front of her eyes. Then she heard the sound of something above her, seeing both Zoey and the minotaur falling directly toward her. Before she could move out of the way, the two landed directly on top of her, with the Viperian's hair snakes biting the back of the minotaur instinctively as she was crushed.

Zoey finally got her hands free from the minotaur as the venom ran amok through his system. She left them on the ground as she rushed into the crowd of brawling magjistars and magji creatures. Pure excitement and adrenaline were running through her veins as she had some good old fun for the first time in a while.

There was nothing like a nice, simple brawl to get the blood flowing. A brawl that reminded her of the fights she got involved with back in her delinquent days. Just this time, there was a lot more magji flying around and different races involved.

"You don't want to hit someone as cute as me, do you?" Zoey locked eyes with a Succubi cutely posing at her, looking very vulnerable and weak.

A species known for manipulating the desires of other species with magji. Zoey felt her mahna poke at her head like a tendril, seeking to drill its way inside. Both of them looked at each other when her attempt at magji failed to breakthrough Zoey's thick forehead or mahna. One smiled. One trembled with fear and disbelief.

"H-How…?" She asked.

Zoey snatched her by the throat and lifted him high up in the sky. "A possible side effect of mental instability." She lied. It was thanks to Abnormal Conditions that she wasn't affected. "Crazy people are more susceptible to our magji!" She yelled. "I'm next-level crazy?" Zoey chokeslammed the Succubi into the floor.

They were out like a light, twitching on the ground. When Zoey readied herself to jump into another fight, she was blasted in the back by someone. The power of the spell knocked her to the floor. As she picked herself up off of the floor, her body was suddenly surrounded in a bubble of light. A prison that was slowly rising into the air. Zoey's eyes locked on to the green light in the shape of a human. A Luminari was targeting her.

But this wasn't a bad situation for her when she thought about it. After all, the last one standing were the winners in this brawl. Although she wasn't tired in the slightest, a quick break wouldn't be so bad. In fact, she could search for her next opponent from this high up. It gave her a nice view of everyone still fighting. Zoey smiled and waved at the Luminari as she got into a more relaxing position.

The Luminari was displeased by this development. They were probably expecting her to be panicking and attempting to break her way out of this bubble made of light magji. As soon as Zoey stopped paying attention to them, they popped their bubble, and Zoey nearly fell face-first to the ground. She angrily clenched her fist, locking on to the bright fucker. Like a bull who could only see red, Zoey smashed her way through the crowd to make it to the Luminari.

Without even relying on her Combo Magji, Zoey was like the Great Divider. Nothing but pure physical prowess and combat experience was enough to handle most of the people inside. And since they weren't daemons, Zoey mostly didn't have to worry about any dangerous tricks as she mainly used her grappling skills to deal with these people. A hulking summoned daemon charged towards her, determined to run her through or trample her flat. With a quick sidestep, Zoey expertly avoided the brute's powerful charge, seizing the opportunity to utilize her grappling skills. In one fluid motion, she wrapped around the daemon's waist and, with a burst of strength, executed a flawless body slam on the creature that no doubt weighed three times her weight or more. The ground trembled as the daemon crashed into the floor, falling to the level below them.

Nearby, a magjistar attempted to coordinate an attack on Zoey. Undeterred, she engaged them without any fear. A daring suplex unfolded as Zoey effortlessly lifted the guy into the air. The unfortunate magjistar found themselves airborne, helpless against the force of Zoey's effortless control. Even as they chanted a spell to unleash on her from above, it was nothing compared to the devastating impact as they smashed into the ground.

In the middle of the chaos, the Luminari from earlier attempted to confront Zoey with bursts of solidified light. Undeterred despite the slight burns on her skin, she closed the distance, her movements swift and unstoppable. As the Luminari prepared another more powerful magji spell, Zoey swiftly caught them in a standing sleeper hold. The once defiant Luminari now struggled within Zoey's grasp. Their attempts to break free met with resolute resistance. Zoey had to utilize mahna to keep hold of the Luminari otherwise, they would slip right through her grip. Unfortunately, as she was choking the Luminari, it turned out she was just giving them a painful squeeze. Luminari didn't need to breathe.

"Sorry." Zoey ended their fight by wrenching its neck and slamming them into the ground. It wasn't her fault she was ignorant about magji races…

For Zoey, each fight was another chance to raise her skills. Another opportunity to get stronger, experience more, and become better. A grin adorned her face as she happily dispatched opponent after opponent, reveling in the satisfaction of applying her grappling techniques in a magji-infused setting. The thrill of the real fight atmosphere fueled her every action, turning the chaotic battlefield into an arena where Zoey's physical prowess and combat experience reigned supreme. Eventually, it got to the point where the remaining fighters stood in exact opposition to Zoey, completely willing to team up and eliminate her from this brawl for their safety.

Life isn’t so Simple Anymore!

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