“What are you doing?” Faso asks shuddering as tears pooled in his eyes while he stumbled back.

“What are... we doing!?” the group mumbles into Ric’s ears.

“Falling for a fraudulent act, apparently.” Ric scowls. “He figured out the imbecilic act you all put in the last time you were here. He is showing you how it’s done—the right way.”

“Imbelic?” Henzo squeezes his brain to figure out its meaning.

“Idiotic acts put on by imbeciles.”

“Oh!”

Ric kept an eye focused on the horn fastened on Faso’s uniform belt. It looked like a miniature battle horn, one used before commencing a war, albeit a pocket version. He presumed one has to blow into its sleek mouth to warn others. He just didn’t know if it would shout like the huge one or send a discrete signal.

None of them moved fast enough to interrupt the guard, so he kept chattering while taking steady, discrete steps toward Faso.

“See that map behind him,” Ric says and Faso peers behind. Ric seizes the opportunity to move closer while the group steps forward out of curiosity. “You guys wrote shit down, didn’t you?” Ric glared at them while trudging forward, his glare forcing the group to spread wider as they tried to avoid his gaze. “Of course you did.”

Ric smacks his forehead, rubs the temple in a circular motion, pretending to have a headache, and then places the same hand on Henzo. “You are the only one I can trust on.” He squeezes Henzo’s shoulders, flooding him with stamina.

Ric smiled and spoke in a low tone, the smile masking the words. “Punch him in the chest.”

“What, no!” Henzo whispers back.

“One punch, man.” Ric jerks his head toward Faso. “You can do this.”

“I know I can. I don’t want to.”

“Common… one little punch. Nothing much, just to pop his lungs out.”

“What! NO!” Henzo screams in terror.

Ravi snaps into action and closes the entrance, trapping all of them within. The rest move farther away, encircling Faso, more out of shock than with a sense of capturing the guard.

“Move before he blows that horn.”

Ric squeezes Henzo’s shoulder hard, and he darts forward, faster than Faso’s hand could move toward his belt.

Henzo’s initial liftoff created hairline cracks on the hard marble floor. Standing close to the lift-off, only Ric felt and realized the power behind Henzo’s dash. Before reaching the guard, Henzo had to pump the brakes twice, creating even more cracks as he tried to control the power behind the tackle.

Henzo rammed into Faso’s abdomen, continuing forward without any resistance as they both crashed into the wooden desk behind.

The edges of the table glowed a crimson hue, observing the impact and stopping them in place, not even budging from its place, but the impact sent the horn flying into Wrilo’s hand.

Henzo overpowered Faso with ease, pinning him to the table.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Faso, on the other hand, was more stunned by the scrawny kid’s strength than anything else, and before he would use his experience to overcome the brat, the sisters lept into action, each carrying a lengthy strand of thread. They crawled around the table, like a spider weaving a web, fastening Faso and Henzo together on the table. A bit too close for Henzo’s comfort.

“Don’t move, or he will kiss you.” Ric chuckled deviously.

Both Faso and Henzo cringe away, but the knots held them in place. “No..!” they scream as one.

“Already in sync, good.” Ric places a hand on Henzo’s head, pushing it closer to Faso’s lips. “Good job, girls.” He gives a thumbs-up to the girls.

“Not what we had in mind, but okay?” They grin, trying to mimic Ric.

“Speak up, my little blackmailer.”

“No… Wait, you know I am a blackmailer?” Faso asks, his confusion deflating his chest; the only barrier between him and Henzo.

“Eh… TUH!” both of them spat.

“Oops!” Ric gives them a sheepish smile. “Hope there wasn’t any tongue involved.”

“Why would you!” They complained as one.

“This one is on you both. Who told you to relax at once, and while we here, stop talking in unison... it’s icky.” Ric shudders.

“Concentrae...” Ravi drags everyone out of their filthy heads.

“Let’s just say I have a sense for such a kind.” Ric states, puffing his chest out.

Only Faso “Ooed,” in the group, his eyes sparkling and head raised high, partly to avoid another mishap.

Faso nods upward gently; a universal man’s sigh of, “What’s up!” acknowledging a fellow blackmailer. Ric returns the nod and orders the sisters to undo the knots, both blackmailers reaching an unspoken agreement to strike a deal.

“We cannot trust him.” Ravi protested. When Ric ignored him, trusting a blackmailer he had just met, Ravi tried to make his point to the ground instead, in hopes that Ric might listen to their combined voice. “Talk some sense into him,” he pleaded with the group. “Nobles are ten times worse than that slithery bastard,” Ravi says, pointing at Uvrodon.

“Hey!” Yanko protests.

“Not you, the suit!”

“Oh! But still.”

“What do you suggest we do?” Wrilo asks.

“We have no choice but to…” Ravi clutches his fist tight, murder in his eyes.

“Geez, what happened to all those morals?” Ric’s smile agreed with Ravi, while he shook a deal with Faso. “I assume you know about the walls?” He asks Faso.

“I’ve been to Richie Lane a couple of times.” Faso twists his bushy mustache in pride.

“Good, fill me up on everything.”

Ric and Faso shake hands, speaking in unison. “I trust you.”

Ravi scoffs. “Trust between blackmailers. Ain’t that hysterical.”

“What is hysterical?” Mae asks Rika.

“Not now Mae.”

“She doesn’t know either.” The sisters nod.

Saint Cathel had no grand defenses protecting it from the unclaimed world. They could neither afford nor maintain such defenses, nor would the other kingdoms allow an army to be bread or created. They were as disposable as disposable can come. That is why Sir Thomas Toe built layers around his stronghold and enforced stupid rules to ensure he escaped during any kind of attack. Bigger cities always had trashy people they wanted to discard or punish, so finding citizens was never an issue whenever they moved or attacked.

“How many moves have you been part of?” Ravi growls at Faso.

Faso shuddered at the thought as he replied, “All of them!”

“Let me guess, you hid between the upper walls as the lower ones collapsed.” Ric smiles, already knowing the answer. Faso returns the mischievous smile without answering, clearing more of Ric’s doubts. “Good.”

“Smart.” Wrilo nodded to herself.

“Despicable.” Ravi spat.

Rika hushed the sisters before they could question again. “I don’t know big words. Deal with it!” She sticks her tongue out at them.

Faso, holding back his comments against Ravi, finally snapped back. “Judge me when you can stand up to those monsters.”

“How is it good, though?” Wrilo shifts the focus back to Ric.

“Means they don’t have or don’t need any other means to divide and rule. Lower-level folks can never break the illusion. A one-time investment that will bite them in the rear.”

“Lower level?” The sisters mumbled. “What is that?”

“We’ll...” Ric looked around the room. “All of you are zeros because you don’t have a contract… yet. These are ones and two’s.” He points at the rest. “Might be a seven, which is me being generous.” Ric frowns at Ravi. “And you just reached an eleven!”

“Been working hard.” Faso flexed.

“Those guys used to be fifteen.” Ric gestures toward the trio who were now turned to suits.

“How much does that make you?” Henzo looms over Ric. “You did defeat all of them.”

Ric pokes his finger into Henzo’s belly button and sucks out all of his stamina. As Henzo deflated, Ric chuckled and replied. “Used to be a boring hundred. Now I am a 2 with the intellect of a hundred.”

“Got it!” Henzo gasped as he lay flat on the floor.

“We need him.” Wrilo reminds Ric before he sucked Henzo dry.

“I know, I know!” Ric reverses the technique to its original form and inflates the Henzo Balloon.

“That’s new.” Henzo gasped for air.

“Just learned it.” Ric smiled.

“In the middle of chaos, you picked up a new skill?” Faso chuckles nervously.

“More like reversed the one I had.” Ric frowned.

“I knew I bet on the winning side this time.”

“Stick around. There’s a heck of a lot left to see.”

One thing the group was sure about, the one thing they bet their lives on; was Ric’s ability. He might not have done all that much compared to nobles who could raise walls, and conquer battlefields, but he certainly was more devious than all of them put together, and at this time and age, this quality makes him a person to look out for; a true demon.

Ric took his time absorbing every bit of information Faso had accumulated over the years. The rest of the group listened along but had no clue what to do with said information. While most of the doubts and questions Ric asked seemed like a waste of their precious little time, for Ric, these little useless details meant the difference between victory and defeat.

What is the height of the wall, or roadblocks for reaching level eleven, the hierarchy of the kingdom, and the status of the dump they called home?

The devil was always in the details, and these details swung him to the top during his last life.

“No reason to doubt it won’t help me again.” Ric cracked his neck, imagining his return to glory.

Spotting Ric busy daydreaming, Ravi approaches Faso out of curiosity. “What’s with the honesty?” He probed.

“Well... you can’t lie to a liar. The bigger liar would know!”

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