“This is quite unexpected,” Charles spoke after a short, contemplative silence. “I did not think that you possessed greater aspirations beyond the violence you were already performing. Forgive me, but I view your actions so far as purely destructive. I fail to see any logic underneath. Tell me, what is it exactly that you are hoping to do?”

“I hadn’t decided yet,” I said with a shrug. “I figure that I’ll come up with the ideas after I win.”

“You wish for a partnership without a goal, plan, or skill set outside of violent killing?”

“I do.”

Charles stared at me with his blood-colored eyes for a moment. It was a piercing gaze, narrow and calculating. The tentacles that surrounded us wriggled and writhed in subtle betrayal of the emotions that rippled just beneath Charles’ skin.

“And here I thought that we had a good thing going, Ishmael,” Charles said with a sigh. “I was going to bring us all to the top and let you have whatever you wished. But, regrettably, it appears that loosening the chains around your neck has only allowed your head to inflate. Are you only so eager to lash out because you are an overstimulated dog?”

“Far from it,” I replied with a laugh. “Sometimes, I feel as though I alone understand the purpose of this place. But, I saw that understanding with you. Embracing what you are and pushing it to the extreme is the ultimate expression of being a person. Why would you ever believe that I would allow myself to become subservient in a world where killing makes you the victor? When you have no leverage over me? Don’t you think it’s foolish that there were no renegotiations?”

“That fact is not lost on me. I was not going to use you as some porter or hired muscle. You were to be my champion, fighting in gladiatorial combat against my enemies while I create the opportunities you so crave.”

“Unfortunately, my kill list is so long that I have no need for yours. I would be willing to help you as a friend and partner in exchange for certain benefits. Let me be clear that I have no further interest in taking orders. What will it be, Charles?”

Charles went quiet yet again. Intelligent though he may be, he had grown too accustomed to the assumptions of his former life; assumptions that he carried with him to this seat. He was finally dealing with a person that did not immediately prostrate themselves to him, with a person that needed nor wanted anything from him that he could craft into binding chains. Before him sat a former animal that was no longer; a dog who could walk on two legs.

And he could not understand it. It would be a misunderstanding that would force him in the direction I dearly hoped he would take.

“You know as well as I do that there is no such thing as two kings,” Charles informed.

“I was beginning to think the same thing. I don’t think that a partnership between the two of us is possible. Now the question remains; will either of us tolerate the other walking away from here?”

The dark tentacles in the room grew further in size. No longer were the incorporeal entities. They grew fleshy masses that battered the walls and ceilings. The alcohol stands were smashed, spilling the bottles onto the ground to leak their brown contents onto the shredded carpet.

Black masses pushed up against me, restricting my movement, but still not dealing any damage to me. More threats, more opportunities to force me to back down.

“There is no further point in treating you like a creature of civility and reason,” Charles said with a derisive tone. “I have no use for someone that doesn’t understand their role in this world.”

“Was asking for a seat at the table so upsetting to you?”

“Cut the shit, Ishmael. We both know that, even if you gave me the perfect plan. Even if you were somebody that I found worthy of a mutual partnership, there was no way to avoid this conflict. There was never a reality where you did not force a fight between us, if for nothing else, to satisfy your own insatiable curiosity as to who is stronger. It is clear that you require a demonstration of our positions in this world. Here’s a reminder.”

I leapt forward, punching through the tentacles that sprung from the ground. Inky mist spread through the air before dissipating. I could see Charles’ figure just a few feet away, with his hands on his sides without a single look of worry in his posture.

Eagerness filled my body. I was ready to be the one to obliterate that confidence. I wanted to see a new expression on Charles’ face as I forcibly ripped away his worldview and turned it on its head.

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That is, if I could actually reach him.

His body, tantalizingly close as it was to my deadly arsenal, was not getting any closer to my biological death machine. The tentacles were not thinning. If anything, they were multiplying at a rapid rate. As soon as one was destroyed, several others would take its place like a calamari hydra. Swipe after swipe, rip, punch, or bite; all I had accomplished was create a near impenetrable wriggling forest.

I had to destroy it all at once. I had the ability to do it.

My mouth opened and toxic gas accumulated at the back of my throat, ready to peel the paint of the walls and suffocate Charles.

Yet, I couldn’t do it. His painless tentacles were the key to my remembrance. There was a no kill law in Styx. His death here would only create a punishing situation necessary for him to get his revenge at leisure. I had to lure him out of Styx.

But how?

“There is a brain in your head after all,” Charles said with the same tone he’d treat a cat that learned how to open doors. “That’s right, you can’t kill anyone in Styx. Though who said we were in Styx?”

“What?”

Suddenly, spikes shot out of the tentacles and I shifted my stats to absorb almost all of the damage. Still, noxious spikes clung into my skin, stinging the flesh but unable to do much else. Now, there were rows of black rose bushes standing between me and Charles.

“What if I had a replica of my business and the surrounding neighborhood outside of city limits?” Charles posited. “It’s not as expensive as you may believe.”

I frowned at the unnecessary complications throwing a wrench into an honest fight. Though, I did not know why I would ever think Charles would fight fair. Unlimited strength does not change the preferences of the way one would fight in life.

“Not certain? I don’t blame you. This is a serious situation and you know me better than anyone else here. You know it’s something I would do if it meant an advantage. Better yet, what if this office itself was a bit of a portal to another place? It’s entirely possible this room is a pocket dimension that is unattached to the city and not under the domain of the rules. What do you think is the truth?”

Thoughts flooded my mind. Endless debates over the correct course of action. He hadn’t shown me enough to prove we weren’t in Styx. His tentacles hurt but, even in my combat abilities at Level 20, it wouldn’t have killed me and I knew that he would know that. The evidence needed to paint the full picture was held tightly behind Charles’ back. The only thing I could do was figure out a way to reach him. Once I got my hands on him, I could move from there.

My combat flow was interrupted, ripped to pieces. It was like playing basketball but your points would only count if you solved a calculus problem first. It’s incompatible. I needed to recover my decisiveness. I needed to determine quickly what I needed to do before I ran head first into a devastating mistake.

But, inaction is the same as a decision. While I calculated the perfect blast radius to unleash my spells without killing Charles, he made the next move.

The floor around me was covered in an orange aura. The telltale screams of an opening portal filled my ears.

“Can’t decide?” Charles asked with a chuckle. “Well, I don’t blame you. Goodbye, Ishmael.”

I was outmaneuvered by the information war. But, my pride would not allow such a victory to be so lopsided. Damning all of my thoughts and acting on the one impulse I held this entire time, I unleashed my full blast of [Draconic Breath] to fill the room.

A wave of green spread from my mouth and covered the entirety of the room. The tentacles were coated in a film of acid rain. The tentacles withered and died en masse as they reached Charles.

His eyebrows raised, but concern did not make its home in him. He adjusted his watch, releasing a golden glow that coated his body. The breath collided with him, eroding the mana and singing his suit, but ultimately doing nothing to damage him.

The path to Charles was clear for a couple seconds as the tentacles tried to rise through the acid that covered the ground, giving me the time necessary to charge Charles.

Well, if I had that time anymore.

“Fucking typical,” I spat as I fell into the portal.

I had grown tired of going through portals that I did not wish to go into. But, I was mostly frustrated by the turn of events. I spoke of the end of our dynamic, but walked directly into the situation that he wanted and without any new insights in how to change it when I undoubtedly come across it again.

I still had not determined whether or not we were still in Styx. My gut told me I was, but I lacked certainty. I was dealing with a schemer; a man who made controlling information and wealth his sharpest weapon. Engaging in a battle of wits was the last thing I wanted.

The portal, as all that had done before it, ended after a short moment. I was deposited in a flash of mana. I quickly looked around and I spat angrily at the ceiling.

Stone walls, iron bars, thin slats near the ceiling that allowed sparse light in. It was a place that could only be created by a man from my country.

A prison.

Demons sat within each of the rooms, their heads held low. A few offered glances towards their newest cohort, but they did not acknowledge me.

It was bizarre. These demons appeared strong. Their frames were powerfully built, the interiors of the cells were heavily damaged by several outbursts, but they seemed unable to escape.

A metal box, no larger than a kennel dropped from the sky beside me with a heavy thud. The metal lock was undone and the front hatch was open, revealing an equally metallic and uncomfortable interior.

“Hello, my dear customers,” Charles’ voice said, emanating from every corner of the structure.

I could see the demons flinch at his words, their heads turning warily up towards the ceiling where they believed that he watched from.

“I have a special offer for you,” he continued. “You see, a subordinate of mine and I came to a disagreement that regrettably turned violent. I need to show him the world that he was spared by being on my good side. Show him a good time and put him in that box when you’re done. As appreciation for your cooperation, I will reduce your remaining debts by half.”

With that, the doors swung open. At the threshold of the cells, beautiful weapons materialized, waiting for a strong hand to grasp it.

And all of them did.

“Charles, you’re going to make me feel nostalgic.”