669 groaned with a hangover as he rested his head on the bar counter, with hopes of stilling the ringing about his ears.

It was midday when he had arrived back to the Cannon Fodder 4Hire headquarters, after partying from night to dawn at the Peony Soap House where his friend worked. He had gone there by invitation of Bosgar Poirot. A twenty-something, handsome youngest son of the Poirot Family: wealthy antiquities merchant for the Demon Domination, fated with fame and fortune provided they stuck to their relic selling business. Bosgar was just as promiscuous as the family's third eldest, Marcus. But the differences in their 'flower plucking' was that Bosgar preferred men, and 669 was one of his favorite 'plucking' companions.

Not that 669 could blame the lord's desire for him. He knew how attractive he was and flaunted it to his advantage. Unlike most manly men, 669 had a slender and slightly curvaceous body with the curves in the right places to tease wanton thoughts.

His sparkling blue eyes were round and (accordingly to some of his dates) like perfect gemstones. His face was soft with a demure quality: flawless pale skin, winter-touched red cheeks, gentle nose, shapely eyebrows and full pinkish lips that always seemed wet for tasting. One of his past lovers had mentioned on how soft his fine short crop of hair was: like golden strands of flowing silk caressing his fingers.

But today his usual luster was dulled by tiredness and a hangover.

“Can't a man get some peace and quiet around here.” 669 groaned again and winced when he felt the throbbing around his lower regions.

That young bratty lord had been riding him the entire night until morning. Not that he disliked the ride, it was just, he didn't give him space to catch his breath. And his throat got dry from his excessive moaning and swallowing of questionable junk. Just as well his core mage skill was organism and practice being a Parasitic Healing Mage. It allowed him to keep up with the activities.

He would recover after some decent rest. Although, choosing to rest at the headquarter's ground-floor, barroom was a bad idea. Especially when the pixies were annoying the small beasts again.

“Peacock. How many times do I have to tell you, we're fairies you poncy chicken?!” Violet shouted as she tossed an empty glass across the room.

Violet was five inches of mayhem with butterfly wings of purple and silver texture fixed to a child-like body, which was dressed in a green gown that bellowed out at the hips to give her wiry body some shape, and where the frilled-lace edges ended just below her dainty knees. Her feet and hands were bare to show dark skin tones: long, flowing, purple hair tumbled about her slender shoulders, and her neck that was covered with a silver choker collar baring the sigils and seals of a Demon Domination Order. Her round, purple eyes, were glaring at the red ring-neck and brown pheasant flapping his wings haphazardly before her. Like her, the pheasant's neck ring was marked with the same silver sigils of the order.

“You can't be a fairy, you're not from the Holy Order, stupid. Only those from that other side can be fairies. How many times do I have to tell you that I'm a pheasant not a chicken?!” Peacock squawked with a loudness to match the pixie's outrage. He flew about the room to dodge the glasses being tossed at him.

669's smooth forehead became wrinkly with a furrow as he felt his anger at boiling point for the two flying pests.

“Can't you two shut up or take your arguments outside. I'm trying to rest!” He bellowed, but with his head still resting on the granite bar counter.

Neither of them were listening as they continued to hurl glasses and insults at each other. He groaned and covered his head with his arms: attempting to block out the noise.

Another pixie stepped into the room with a lazy yawn. Her round red eyes blinked into the fight happening and shrugged her shoulders as she indifferently flew onto the barstool next to 669. Sangria looked similar to Violet, but her skin tone was lighter, eyes, wing texture and hair were red and her dress was brown.

“Another night busting nuts I see,” she nonchalantly said to 669 as she slouched on her seat, looking just as drained of energy. Although, that was just her default.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

669 didn't respond, too much pretending they weren't there.

“Guys, give it a rest.” Indigo coolly said as she strolled into the room with indignant airs.

Like her pixie sisters, she too carried the sigil neck choker of a demon domination creature for the Shiya House Order. Her eyes, hair and wing texture were mauve and dress a dark blue. She had the same skin tone as Sangria, which hinted at their air magic. Violet's magic was organism based, so her skin tone was naturally darker.

But the spat between Violet and Peacock escalated until many glasses were being tossed and smashed on the floor.

Two more pheasants entered. One chose to ignore the fight and preen their wings on a set of sofas.

“I just finished cleaning the room!” The other pheasant groaned and transformed themselves into their human form, of a skinny young man in a modest brown tunic and pants, to commence with their clean-up work. His mood lifted as he hummed a ditty tune while sweeping away the broken glass that keep piling up on the floor.

Suddenly the air became still and quiet. A deep voice rebounded around everyone's head.

“Knock it off!”

A stocky and muscly man, dressed in a white belted shirt over gray slacks and shoes, and with grouchy looking features, stomped into the room. His bushy brows were lowered in a frown, so his beady black eyes were just visible among his heavy brow and large nose. His thick lips were down set to make his frown. 777 was a strong contrast to 669, with his wide chin covered in three-day growth and rough-cut black hair that was hacked close to the scalp.

Despite his intimidating image, 777 knew business and was able to handle negotiations well. And the fact that he looked like a thug, it was a given he would be handed business based on impressions.

The air began to circulate in the barroom again. 669 raised his head to see the company's second boss step behind the counter.

The other main member of the Cannon Fodder 4Hire company stepped into the room to take a seat near the counter's far end.

The pixies flocked before 789 who was something of an idol to them. Where 669 was good for bedding men and 777 was the boss, 789 was the woman who had big ambition despite her fated will as a demon domination henchman. She was the best fighter in the company and also their inventor. She made their pills and other odd pieces in the headquarters laboratory, which frequently had to be repaired. Her black hair was cropped short around her neck with tufts sticking out in places and flopping around her small forehead: her body in dark leather bodysuit armor and boots was skinny but tough with muscle making her agile and strong. She looked young and innocent with her large round eyes and small mouth, but the image was fleeting as soon as she showed her scheming expression and deadly pair of daggers.

“Girls. Check out the pill I made.” 789 held out a round, shiny, green pill before the pixies, who flapped around her with awe at the pill's glowing wonder.

“Later, 789. Shiyan came back with business. We're hired by the Poirot's to fix one of their bedroom windows. Needs those who can fly. So we got the job.” 777 called everyone's attention to him with their new work.

“Fix a window? Can't their people do it?” 669 mused as he rubbed his chin.

“Nope. They need air and organism mages to secure the window and reset the protection array. We're the closest resource in the area. This job comes from the big boss.”

“Secretary 007 handed out the order to us via Thunderbird.” A white rabbit confirmed as he hopped along the counter to sit before 777.

The white rabbit was Shiyan, who was their direct report: making the rabbit the company's big boss.

669 frowned, not understanding why their upper management would be interested in something trivial. Especially, considering fixing a window would be a domestic affair. “Boss, why would our house uppers be interested in having a window fixed for some mid-tier family?”

“Idiot!” Shiyan smacked his forehead with his his rabbit foot. “It's public relations. We just started up as a company on our overlord's order. Doing boring, meaningless, jobs like these, helps build up our reputation. And, no, spreading our name through your nighttime activities with lords doesn't count!”

669 sighed away his frown. For a rabbit, Shiyan seemed to know what people were thinking. Then again, he wasn't just any white rabbit, he was gifted with the ability to shape-shift as a man when situations called for it. Usually to conduct business.

Seeing that everyone was ready to take their orders, 777 got down to details. The job was simple so they only needed to keep their efforts to expectations. 669, Indigo and 789 were assigned, which they had to start straight away.

669 rose and swallowed a hangover pill 789 handed him.

“Guess it's no rest for the wicked.”