“Brings back memories doesn’t it?” Savage comments on the choice of setting.

Indeed it does. Even the looming unease feels familiar. As if my life were crumbling around me.

“So how does it feel to know you’re dying?” The pink haired lady queries. Rather rudely may I add. It's not very nice to interrupt a conversation.

“Very unapologetically terrible,” I indulge with her posh speak, “Not something a young’un would want to experience. Very unpleasant.”

“Hmm, really? So do you become an undead after this?” Her eyes seem to light up in innocent curiosity, “Like Savage? Or do you need to be necromanced? But then, how come other undead can’t talk?”

“Young lady… natural undead are different from the thralls of necromancers, so it’s obvious that I can talk.”

“Correct,” I attest, despite not understanding in the slightest, “And I probably won’t be coming back as an undead.”

It astounds me how nonchalant I am when talking about my expiration date, most people usually become desperate when faced with their imminent end, but I guess I’m not most people.

“Eh? Isn’t that your gimmick though? Don’t you guys always shout, ‘I’ll be back!’ as you die, then actually come back?”

That sounds funny. Unfortunately, I’m not in on the joke, so dying is actually pretty bad for me, and I’d rather not deal with this sort of talk right now.

I mean, what’s with all the questions? I’ve got a foot in the grave and would rather be in hospice than in some backroom. I really don’t think I’m the most fit to be questioned. Though, I guess I can be so calm right now because I secured a deal to be fished out of one of Hell's soul lakes and become a demon.

“Don’t you wanna check to see if anyone else has something that can help? It’s the least I could do.” She says, showing the first bit of concern I’ve seen so far. It looks like she actually didn’t expect me to y’know die.

However, I’m no Unyielding Myth or Immortal Semigod, I die when I die damnit.

Though, I wish I could find Lily before I die… It doesn’t feel right to have someone else pass her my stuff. Gotta do it myself, considering the fact that I’m still utile, likely a boon of the arts I’m currently in possession of.

Well, there’s always tomorrow.

“But surely there’s something that can help you. You can’t just give up like this!”

The young lady is quite the optimist I’ll say, however…

“Life is cheap.” And I’m most certainly not an exception, “Especially in a cult like this.”

She frowns, “I’ve noticed this before, but why do you keep calling yourselves a cult?”

“Are we not a cult?” I respond casually, as if it were a banal, everyday event.

“Uhm, maybe? Aren’t we an order though?”

She seems thoroughly indoctrinated. Poor girl, I could positively feel the question marks thrown at me, “Okay, think like this,” I try to think up of a wording to enlighten her, “All cults are orders, but what makes them cults is their horribly disfigured ethics which go against the orthodox,” I disclose to the suffused child. Her soft spoken eyes eating the information presented like a voracious little demon, “Cults are the minorities with views which are extreme, or radical, often intruding upon common consensus and universally accepted right. They are fanatical. They are crazed. They are inexorable. They are dysaudial,” Honest to the gods, I could keep on going, but she seems to get the point, “This is a cult,”

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“B-But aren’t you also a part of it? W-Why— how could you say such things? Don’t they also apply to yourself…?”

She hems and haws for a bit seemingly unable to accept this new reality, but I just continue the narrative, vaguely outlining how everyone here should be in a mental assylum as well as other events plaguing the cult as of late. After all, “I’m probably insane. But so are these florists.” Probably. I mean, they’ve shown that they have strong critical thinking.

Naturally, Savage, my man, concurred with a grunt.

“I-I see… I didn’t know that…”

“Mhmm, now you know, anyway, I’m gonna go eat your stock,” I give her forewarning, as was polite to do, so with that in mind I call out to my old friend, “Savage, when you find Lily, tell her she can have all my things but split it evenly with Lazari.”

“Jeffrey, you made a will detailing how you wanted to split your… things…”

Ehh, that was just a putz to distract myself than an actual legal document. “I trust Lily more than myself.”

Now, I’mma eat some flowers and everything will be fine. Except nothing is ever fine. Because if it were fine, then it’d entail the prelude to a catastrophe on this Realm.

“Jeff!” The dumbass from the next room over shouts before I can eat the damn flowers, I saw this shiny irridescent one and I’m sure I would’ve gone through a loop with it, “We have to kill a man.”

Yup, I expected this. Real slave drivers these guys are. Worked till death and not even a bereavement pay for my little ones. Actually, will there be a bereavement pay? Probably not, it’s not like I was paid before.

“Which man are we killing?” The lass pipes at the new subejct of interest.

Good question! Though I have a clue.

“That summoned lackey of the idols!” Laffer shouts with arms splayed wide open, “It’s unfortunate that he’s the target of our malicious belligerence, as I believe that he be a thespian. Ahh, the world will reave his loss…”

Okay, and why should I do this?

“Haha good friend! I can feel your questioning intent, and I’ll tell you so… You’ll be receiving a payment!”

Good graces above…

That word… It feels so foreign to hear it be spoken by this asshat despite it being spoken in perfect engrish.

“Wh-”

“No need to ask my slow friend,” He cuts off my one moment of dialogue, “It seems we’ll be rewarded with a great sum of coins if we’re able to bag that bastard first, at least a hundred face coins. That’s enough to live frivolously for a decade, y’know.”

The man gives a shrug with the clear intent to entice me with this star blessed reward. And I’ll be honest, face coins are the highest denomination of coins I know, before we move to crystal currency, but we’re far too poor to think about that.

But I don’t think that money is gonna help me much…

“Oh? Why so?” The man somehow picks up on my reluctance to accept the money. His scrutiny gives me the feeling as if he’s reading me. Like a book.

But I guess it doesn’t matter, dying should be at the forefront of my thoughts.

“Ahhh, don’t worry I gotchu,” He nods knowingly, as if to affirm that he understands my thoughts, “You see the coins as very practical do you?”

Okay. Can confirm that my thoughts are not being read. Good to know. And no, I very much understand the practicality of money. At least in the Corrupt Realm. Don’t know how useful it’ll be in Hell even if we assume it could come down with me.

So really, I should be enjoying my time here before getting damned.

“Okay, ignoring that, we can work out payment later. We go now.”

Nah nah, “I ain’t goin’ with you,” I hiss brushing off Laffer’s hand, but surprisingly, it’s Savage that reprimands me.

“Jeffrey, I don’t think you should toss this up so quickly,” He hums in a low vibrato glancing toward a sheet of paper in Laffer’s offhand, “Do you recognise that face?”

It’s a shite sketch, but it captures everything it needs to. My eyes squint as my mind hurriedly builds the resemblance I feel.

That roundish jaw and juvenile eyes, and not to mention the regalia of his mantel. It’s a black and white sketch, but the shading is enough to tell me that he’s blonde. I did not think that these people would be so good at composite sketching, but if you gather enough people together, you’re bound to find someone with the right skills.

Haha, what a right round, cheerio surprise though. It would be a lie to say that I didn’t have anything I wanted to do whilst still being here. I always keep my tabs and well, let’s say that I still have great trouble walking…

I remember that Jimmy once told me something. The memory is long and faded, but its jaded message is resplendent even in my muddled conscience.

“All in. Always. No regrets.”