“Angolian princess body slams ten criminals in a row during the fight. The Undead Wrestling Association reports that they are keen on interviewing Princess Asha,” I dictated then placed my newspaper down. “What on the Continent were you trying to achieve?”

Daggerless, still in his drag, posed and said, “My time in the Sorcerer City States has prepared me for this moment.”

“Ughhh…” I groaned as I threw the newspaper aside. “Hey, Lard, get away from the Slime Godfather.”

Lard was poking a small jar which could’ve been mistaken for a jar of pickles, or I assumed he thought it was food which was why he was expressing interest in it. He placed a finger against the jar, pushed it with an intense face, and muttered, “Aren’t slimes supposed to be acidic?”

“Apparently, he’s one of the rare slimes. Maybe that's why he’s successful.”

“How is not being acidic a good thing?”

“For one thing, he wouldn’t melt his own minions. Though, it would certainly be helpful to be acidic once he’s thrown in jail,” I pointed out.

The jar shook but was held tightly onto the table by a gravitational seal. “I can hear you, you know!” the Slime Godfather complained.

“What’s his name anyway?” Lard asked as he placed his fingers against his chin.

“I don’t know. I never bothered asking.” I shrugged.

“Ahem. As I said, I can hear you. As for my name, it is of great origin and great power. This name has resonated with authority for aeons, and will do so for time infinity!” the Slime Godfather proudly declared.

Lard leaned closer, clearly excited, while I rolled my imaginary eyes.

“T-Tell me, O Great One, what is your name?”

“I am the foreboding one, I am the alpha and the omega, I am… Jim.”

“What? That’s it?” Lard sighed.

I nodded understandably. “What a powerful name.”

“You’re serious?” Lard asked me.

“Why are you asking me that? It is quite a name that screams absolute reign,” I pointed out.

“I am glad that you could understand the level of my name despite our differences, lich,” Jim complimented.

“It’s Archlich.”

“Jim’s a common name!” Lard shouted.

“Is it? I’ve never heard of Jim before,” I said.

“It is one of a kind,” Jim added.

“You guys…”

Lard’s ramblings were interrupted when a group of armored men entered the room. Their heavy steel armor was covered with a blue jacket, and they held their ballista-like crossbows up with one hand as they surrounded every corner of the room. My companions looked at the enforcers, unamused, as they continued their card games.

A group of enforcers with musical instruments entered the room and unpacked their things on an empty corner. Once ready, they began playing a somber tune as the door opened once more to usher in the final guest, Don Giannico, who entered the room while holding onto his jacket’s collar. He scanned the room from the left to the right until his sights landed onto the glass jar placed on my table.

The surrounding enforcers dimmed the light in the room and placed a steel chair in front of my table.

After his minions swept the chair, Don Giannico took a seat and crossed his leg. “So this is Jim.”

“Don Giannico,” Jim grumbled in his jar-prison.

“You remember fifty years ago when you came into my house and ruined my daughter’s birthday?”

“Giannico, people who call their pet dogs ‘daughters’ or ‘sons’ deserve to have their pet’s birthday raided.”

Giannico flicked his finger, and an enforcer slammed the table for him. “There are us civil men, and there are monsters. You know which side you stand on, Jim.”

“Bah! Enough talking! Go ahead and take me away already, punk!”

Giannico flipped his head and the enforcers tightened chains around the jar before putting it into a box. Jim complained about the lack of undead rights loudly, but he was gone within seconds so it didn’t matter.

“So,” Giannico said as he placed a cigar between his pearl white teeth, “you held your end of the bargain, my amnicius. The Family owes you a great debt.”

“You’ll support my campaign then?”

“And more, amnicius.” Giannico puffed his cigar and one of his minions placed a large folder onto the table. “Here is the situation regarding the campaign. How you deal with this information... it is not up to me, see?”

I pulled my head back then opened the folder. Inside, there were information regarding major groups within the republic and who they support. Within seconds, I understood my situation.

“Most of the city already supports one of the two other candidates,” I concluded.

“Indeed.” Giannico shrugged then continued, “It’s understandable, amnicius. You came in late. By now, the major groups would be stubborn to give up their stances. You’ll have to pry their support off their chosen candidates with a bloody knife… metaphorically.”

“Oh. So no murders…”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Giannico whipped his finger and a minion nodded for him.

“This sounds hard. But you’ll still support me even though I’m already way behind?” I asked.

“The Family always pays its debt. Besides, we always enjoy a good underdog stories, cafeesh?” Giannico explained. “You’re already doing well gathering public support through your… grey eminence.”

“Ah, yes. My campaigner. He can deal with the public, and I will deal with the other candidates myself. Can you tell me what you know about the two?”

“There’s nothing much I can tell you. Only… they are both ruthless. Hundreds of years of politicking has made them more snake than undead. No, worse. More lycan than undead.”

“Yeesh. That bad, huh. Well, I’m sure they can’t deal with ah… erm… me.”

“A mere skeleton like you? Eh, who knows?” Giannico wiped his shoulders then stood up. The musicians were starting to slow the tempo of the song, so I assumed the meeting was reaching its end. The Enforcer Don raised his hand towards me and placed his other hand against his jacket’s collar. “The Fahimilia will be watching your back, amnicius.”

I nodded and shook his hand. “Don’t worry about me, fellas.”

Giannico turned his back and started making his way out of the room, but not before nodding his head towards the crossdressing Daggerless and greeting him, “Princess.”

His entourage followed their don, and the musicians ended their music so they packed their things before leaving.

“Alright, can you get off that get-up now?” I asked Daggerless.

“But if I keep doing this, I could build up Asha’s reputation as a wrestler!” Daggerless declared.

A cough was heard from the doorway, and there, Asha was standing in her full princess outfit. “Now that I heard that, I think it’ll be fine if I return to my original status.”

*

*

*

A pale man opened a door to a dark room. His hand shook, and he could barely keep his legs straight. He slowly pushed the door as if he was trying to make as little noise as possible. “Mr. B-Boss? You called for me?”

“Ah, finally,” I greeted as I turned my rotating chair to face him. “I’ve been expecting you. Come.”

The disheveled man approached slowly until he stepped into the darkness, covering himself in pure blindness. I coughed loudly which caused him to stop in his tracks. I could hear him gulp loudly.

“Turn on the lights, those damned enforcers left the room without turning the lights back on,” I ordered.

“Ahaha… R-Right…” the man waved his hands against a runic inscription on the wall and the lights turned back on.

“I assumed you’ve finished checking out your new brand apartment in the headquarters?” I asked.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Boss! I’m grateful for the apartment but d-do you really want to give me such a nice place?” the nervous man asked.

“Why not? You’re causing my public reputation to soar! I’m getting more and more supporters amongst the general populace! It is only reasonable I give you that temporarily. Why do you ask? You don’t want it?”

“Y-Yes… I mean, no. I mean… er… It’s definitely better than sleeping on the park benches…” he murmured to himself.

I waved my hand to grab his attention and asked, “I’ve never really gotten your name. What’s your name?”

“It’s Z-Zoweer, Mr. Boss.”

“Z-Zoweer?”

“No! It’s just Zoweer, Mr. Boss. S-Sorry if I’m stuttering. I-I’m not used to talking to someone like a presidential-candidate...”

“Ah.” I nodded my head then leaned forward suspiciously, causing him to recoil back slightly. “Are you from Cahalot?”

“The Sorcerer City State of Cahalot?” Zoweer asked back.

“Indeed. That place.”

“Yes, Mr. Boss. H-How did you know about it?” he stuttered.

“That would explain many things…” I thought to myself loudly. From his fluid use of magic to his crippling social skills to his weird name, I had already surmised he was from there.

I suppose I shouldn’t tell him that Zoweer was a shortened Ancient Common phrase meaning ‘So where’s my money, you punk?’. Much like Yomi’s name, Cahalotian names seemed to be derived from Ancient Common phrases which are thought to contain great power nowadays.

“What was that, Mr. Boss?” Zoweer called out nervously.

“Can you drop the ‘Mister’? It seems redundant.”

“Y-Yes, Mr. Boss! I-I mean Boss!”

“Good. Zoweer, you’ve performed remarkably well so it is only right if I reward you well.”

“Ooooh! Thank you, Bo-”

“With a higher rank, harder tasks, and a higher stake in this game of plots!” I declared.

“W-Waaait!”

I slammed my hand against my table and pointed at Zoweer. “I declare you as my head spokesman. As you are a Cahalotian, it is fit to see that you should negotiate with the next target group in the agenda!”

“S-Sir?!”

I stood up and led Zoweer to a large wooden board. There were many floating papers levitating in front of the board, and I pointed at one of them. “One of the last remaining neutral major groups is the Educational Bureau of Gravia. It is mostly composed of specters, revenants, and eternally damned spirits, just for your information. Your job is to convince them to support me!”

“W-What? Why?!”

“It’s because Cahalot is known to have one of the best academic systems in The Continent, and as I am one of the head teachers of Cahalot, it would be an easy task to convince those fellow passionate educators to support me in my campaign.”

“You’re a teacher in Cahalot?!”

“The sole teacher to mentor the group of students which dominated this year’s Sorcerer Academic Games. Well, there was also Yomi, but it was mostly just me.”

“Y-Yomi?! Your co-teacher was the legendary Master Yomi?!”

What in the name of Bahas do these people really see in Yomi?!

“Yes. She was more of a burden but well, it works if it works.” I shrugged.

“So, you’re a skeleton… teaching in Cahalot…No, wait! That’s not the point, Mr. Boss!” Zoweer cried.

“I told you to stop calling me Mr. Boss!”

“S-Sorry, Boss! I was asking why I should be the one to talk to them!” Zoweer clarified.

I went silent and twirled my rotating chair around. Once I was facing him again, I snapped my fingers and pointed at him. “Because you’re the only Cahalotian I know in this entire city!”

“Haaaaa….” Zoweer sighed loudly. “T-That’s impossible! D-Don’t you know someone else?”

I rubbed my chin and said, “Well, there’s my apprentice, Kendra, but she’s busy with other things. And I’m afraid I don’t want the teachers’ necks to suffer from staring down at my short student.”

“Ghosts and specters don’t have necks, you empty-headed antique!” Kendra retorted from one side of the room.

“Then do you want to go?” I asked Kendra.

“No, thanks. Good luck with that place!” Kendra replied before burying herself in books again.

“Well, there you have it,” I said with a shrug.

Lard burst forth from the door with his arms raised high. “Not so fast! I, Vakasa of the Darkness, overheard something vital as I, Vakasa of the Darkness, journeyed from the toilet!”

“What do you want, tubby?” I asked.

“If this man is going to an undead school, count me in! I want to see some dullahan schoolgirls! N-Not for interest, mind you, but for crucial research!” Lard declared while pointing upwards.

“He’s not going to an undead school, you donkey. He’s going to the bureau of education,” I pointed out.

“I, Vakasa of the Darkness, could somehow make it related to going to an undead school! Come, my follower! We march for war!” Lard ordered Zoweer.

“W-War?! Eeeeeh?!” Zoweer cried as he looked towards me for help.

I shooed him away with a wave of my hand as I said, “Have fun now! Don’t come back until you finish this! Don’t forget to campaign on the way there!”

“B-But, Boss! W-What do I negotiate with the educators for?!”

“Anything goes! I’ll promise it all but won’t keep them, so it’s fine!” I farewelled.