The creature in Darwin's skin made himself comfortable in the City. Listening to the lively hood of the town, small children playing nearby, people haggling over the price of fruit. The was shining, the air was only slightly sooty from chimneys.

It was as close to Heaven as he could find.

It was a pale imitation compared to that. Still, compared to Hell, It was Heaven. He smiled and walked along the street, twirling his cane nonchalantly. Stopping to view various vegetables and fruits, and deciding whether to buy them.

He knew ditching the cape was an excellent idea. It was nearly summer, late spring, he decided. Just past planting season. Good, very good. A wonderful time to be alive, idyllic.

He could easily draw on Darwin's memories for reference to these things. The City's name was Hapsburg, classically narcissistic, and it was ruled by, well, mostly rich merchants and peasant nobility. Notable among them were the Guild founders, simple surfs that got enough silver and gold to create some kind of lever out of their station and into nobility. Now running the various magic guilds and other such organizations for profit.

A touching story of success turned into a minor tyranny, classic.

He was sure such there was work to be had there, this body had knowledge and skill in the mystical arts. Wasn't that hard, honestly? Breathing Exercises and a few mental gymnastics, the Hot and Cold distinction was interesting, but nothing too complex.

The Hot stuff "pneuma" they called it, droll, was mostly the gathering of heat and local ambience while cold was displacement and chilling. When applied to in various was it could stimulate or dull certain senses, action and so forth. Though it didn't seem very good for anything more complex than that.

Rifling through Darwin's memories was as much a chore as it was a letdown.

The Demon was wondering as he did, What caused this man to summon up a figure of the Dark and Ruinious powers? As if Hell didn't bomb the mortals in pamphlets daily with enough bad ideas to end the world several times over. What kind of man would willingly cross that line?

The answer was a terrible letdown. Darwin was simply just, honestly, unbelievably...

He struggled to find the right words. Stupid? Moronic? a lunatic with an ego big enough to blot out the sun? Greedy or Lustful seemed to tame and Hubris was an understatement.

He had little to no motivation whatsoever. He simply was in love with having magic and power. Because, well, it was a human temptation at work. Darwin, whatever-his-crappy-name-was, loved his magic, more importantly, he loved being in power.

An absolute dunce and a tyrant.

The demon chuckled to himself. The bastard was so reckless in his pursuits for his power he'd do anything to show how great he was. Expecting money and fame to follow him, angrily defending his collection with seclusion and schemes and hiding behind dueling laws, like a toddler throwing a fit.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

The Demon laughed and shook his head. Darwin would make for a very poor devil. And a worse wizard. He was sure he could do better in his short time playing as him. He could take whatever piecemeal powers this imbecile collected, never even intending to use it!

He wanted to laugh, so he did. If only because it lacked even a squalid once of understanding.

Stopping to look about and get his bearings, he recognized a cafe but frowned. But didn't feel like paying for his meals today. That, and the face he was wearing, was a notorious duelist that got thrown from such establishments on the regular. Not a healthy habit.

On his left, there was a more traditional tea house to the left that his former self would never dare to step into, because of a single fact. There was no one to cheat there or to steal ideas from.

He weighed the options in his head and decided he would return to visit the Teahouse tomorrow. He had other things to attend to. For one, a decent meal that wasn't reliant on a coin.

He stole an old flower sack from a baker and started his run, first buying bread from the same baker, some tomatoes from a lovely old woman on the corner, several other fruits, and vegetables from vendors around the town, and a cheap bottle of vinegar from the apothecary.

Next, he returned home and set up, summoning an iron pot from an unnatural angle in the wall and placing it on the fire, which hadn't dimmed or grown any colder. Which is to be expected. It was magic of course, just not the kind they'd approve of in schools.

That would make moving a pain though, he'd have to move the fire as well. But that was for later, for now. Lunch. He summoned the tea cart once again, as it had been, and cleared it. It would be his makeshift table for now. He took special care not o ruin anything as he replaced it in the void, though he kept the kettle on the bottom rack just because.

And with the Table cleared, he set to work making a wonderful little garden lunch. Only one thing bothered him as he enjoyed a fresh tomato. No windows. Even in Hell, he preferred a room with a view.

"I'll have to fix that, or," he swallowed, " Find better accommodations." it shouldn't be that hard. Magic was common but sold at a premium, thanks to the doctrine of the Orthodox Church. That Magic was a gift only those in divine favor could wield. Of course, that didn't stop the nobility from buying it, anyway. Thus, the guilds were born, but they each had to be certified by the Church first.

A natural precaution. Can't have peasants setting fire to their barns or each other. It would be madness. Not to mention the crimes one could commit.

He reviewed his options for the day. He'd seen the city, had something to eat. Now all he needed was to improve his quarters. And then invite the company.

He lifted a hand and watched the papers fly up from the floor and drawers, shelves and other hidden corners to present themselves, while his tea stirred itself. His eyes rifled through Darwins' old notes, to see if the nut had stolen something useful while moping about.

There were a lot of intriguing and perhaps dangerous or untenable notions that had to be discarded, but a few were worth a once over. When he did finally settled on something, it was a simple but ingenious notion. And with his contacts in counterfeits, easily produced for cheap and sold for profit.

"Well, it's not like I wasn't breaking the law already. But this should help even the scales. Hmm. I'll need copper for that, silver for this. And a license to produce." he nodded to himself. It should all work out just fine. Provided he could get this into the hands of those that mattered, anyway.

A new scheme was required, but that went without saying. Making this scheme legitimate would be interesting. The devil glanced around at the room. He noted the time on his watch and decide to move.

Clearing the table in a single stroke, he cast the remnants into the fire burning the dishes clean, and with the tongs, removed the dishes carefully, letting them cool in the corner before placing them back on the cart, and dismissing the service into an abyssal rift with the usual sound of rippling curtains.

Taking a seat in the big chair by the fire, he liked this chair. Maybe he'd keep it. He sat down and idly wondered what his familiar was up to.

What he found, that was. Equally unexpected and unsurprising.