Things seemed to progress quicker the closer I got to going to the Mids. As if everything was building to some big reveal. A surprise party with confetti as I ascended the path that few Hunters made it to—yet continued further on wings of demonic and divinity energy. Against my will, but most surprises were, by nature.

We circled around the building to the front and saw there was a small queue to get in. A variety of different demons all patiently waiting to be allowed into the club by the bouncers. I looked up at the front to see the name of the place. Goblin Village, same as before. My eyes fell back down to the two burly demons blocking the entrance, and I smiled.

[Either you are becoming luckier, or you are in a coma after getting shot in the head the other week.]

I scowled down at him. Could never let me just have a win or two. “I get it, Wight. You’re feeling a little like a third wheel now I’ve grown in power and can do so much on my own.”

He opened up his beak and then closed it, but no sounds came out.

“Even if you gave me zero power, I’d still take you out with me. You’re not just a source of energy.” I shook my head. “You should know that by now.”

Didn’t even give him a chance to respond. That was more emotionally charged than I was used to being, but things had been odd and loose since his return. We needed to be sharper tools, and it wasn’t like him to be the wavy one.

I strode past the queued demons, catching their angered glances in the back of my head. There was no need to pay them any heed. My legs carried me to the front, where the two croc-demons were guarding the doorway.

“Gentlemen,” I tipped my hat. “Any tables for two free?” Wight sidled up to me, his feathered arms folded.

“Sure are, boss,” the first said, standing to the side and allowing me access to the darkened doorway.

The second grinned widely and spoke in a murmured tone. “Korc is on the fourth floor, boss.”

I nodded my thanks. Partially to them, and partially for the narrative fiat putting all the eggs in the basket I happened to stumble into. Hopefully she wasn’t one of the ones the Org wanted cracked.

//Six floors. First has thirty-eight demons. Second has fifty-six and first target.

As I stepped into the darkness, I was enveloped by a mist of… some manner of demon stench. Not exactly unpleasant, but stifling and humid.

“Leave any weapons here,” a voice appeared to my side as I stepped through a curtain.

I raised an eyebrow at the clerk demon. A devil. Unfortunately, not a croc, which would have made things rather nice. Still, I had the decision here to break from the plan and start double-clicking on heads to download some extra credit from the Org. Or I could continue the charade and ooze into the cliche and misspent hubris.

The latter won out, and I placed my revolver and Pearl’s dagger on the small counter. “Lose or damage either, and I will personally pull your skeleton out of your still-struggling body.” At least, right before the Org and Pearl did the same to me.

He nodded, his red skin paling slightly as his eyes darted between the weapons and the cubby-hole where he intended to stow them. “Y-yes, of course, sir.”

[Ditto.]

Wight placed his own dagger up there to be safe-kept. We had done some testing on how far I could drag the pact weapon with my energy, and just going into the next room would be pushing that capability. Whether Rodney had any thoughts on my folly, he kept comms clear.

With my glare lingering on the shrinking clerk, we turned to the next set of black curtains blocking the entrance to the club. I stretched my neck out and gave a nod to my patron, who gave one in return.

Pushing them to the side, we stepped onto the first floor proper. Deep purple, luminous pink, and vibrant blue lights pulsed through the area. A central dance floor of silver tiles was occupied by a dozen or so figures, while the remainder sat in darkened booths that encircled the middle of the floor. Straight ahead of us was a long bar illuminated by silver and white lights, reflecting off of countless bottles and glasses.

The music was… odd. Demonic, I suppose, but not in the traditional gothic horror way. It was pleasant, but had a slimy, almost insidious tone to it that my human ears almost couldn’t hear. Uncomfortable, but I felt my head nod and foot tap even so. Somewhat of a low energy room, though. Not my kind of thing. To the right and left corners at the back were stairs to the next floor.

I needed something to really shake my soul up.

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We encircled the outside of the booths, our footsteps soft against a plush carpet of purple. The walls were engraved with winged demons, silver detailing against marbled stone that only revealed the inscribed pictures by the difference in reflective properties as the moving lights washed over the room.

“Almost feel bad about the first time.” A small smile curved at the corner of my mouth.

[I do not.]

I raised an eyebrow at him and ignored the brief looks we were getting. There were certainly odder places to find a Hunter. My patron, however, wasn’t much in the mood for the atmosphere here. Perhaps I had been a little too harsh on him outside. That was odd in the abstract. I shouldn’t be able to upset some all-powerful demonic entity by hitting a nerve with his feelings.

Why not? A part of me asked.

We ascended the stairs, a slightly cooler air to it, the walls all dressed in gray which served as some kind of palette cleaner between floors. I stopped at the doorway to floor two and tapped my fingers on the empty leather holster.

“We should find Korc first, then go for the targets after.” No point getting into a brawl and then have trouble finding her—which could be impossible if I turned the building into ash again. Although, being inside it might dissuade me from that course of action. Might.

[Up to floor four then, Eric?]

“Let’s go, bud.” I gave him a grin, and he returned a nod. It was weird being contractually bound to your best friend, but the alternative was potentially a lot weirder. Conflicting emotions where I wanted him to be free, but afraid of letting him go. Not the least because he was of an unknown demon type and power level, outside of what was bound to me.

//Floor three seventy-two hostiles. Floor four fifty-eight hostiles, one of which is the target… Korc.

“Well, I’m not killing her.” Less credit from the Org, but they didn’t exactly lavish me with… well, anything, as far as I knew. After leaving my finances in Rodney’s hands, and Pearl buying us a house, I didn’t even consider anything other than the next Promotion. Which should be soon, I hoped.

//Understood. She is in the back right corner when you enter.

I nodded, and we ascended even more stairs, which was Hell in itself. In fact—given that there were no windows, only pale fluorescent lights, it was easy to forget that I was in the Lowers. Without feeling corruption tugging at my very being, this was close enough to a strange Halloween party at a club.

We reached the fourth floor and pushed through. An illuminated stage to the left had a handful of demons dancing around in the nude. The rest of the room was various red tones, booths separated by mid-level walls in every direction apart from toward the stage. The music was… odd, again. Electronic almost, and some attempt to sound alluring. A devil stood beside the door as if waiting for something.

“Do you… gentlemen need a table?” His eyes narrowed at us.

“No. We’re meeting someone here.” I gave him a polite nod, as it seemed more acceptable than putting his head through the wall. Perhaps I was just grouchy at leaving my pact weapon downstairs. An error yet to come to fruition, but the harvest wasn’t due this season.

We walked along the right wall, out of the way of the booths. Wight seemed curious about the dancers, but I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to even touch on the subject. I kept my eyes to myself. Might even have to destroy the place to hide any evidence we were here.

The corner had a booth, and as we approached, I could see two shadowed figures within it. Definitely bulky enough to be my gang members. Throwing caution to the wind, and any social graces out along with it, I stepped into the booth as the dim overhead light illuminated the occupants.

It was Korc alright, and she was currently making mouth music with another crocodile demon.

“Who the- oh! Boss?” She pulled away from her equal and surprise illuminated his eyes. “This is Sapphire. Why don’t you give us a few minutes, hun?”

The other female croc nodded and slipped out from underneath the table. “Pleasure to finally meet you, boss.” She grinned and sauntered away from the table.

I chose not to acknowledge the situation. The Org seemed to be right in that there was definitely a lack of soft skills in my repertoire, and I wasn’t used to seeing demons act… well, un-Lowers-like.

We shuffled in beside her, the chair still warm from where her questionably named beau had been sitting. “Good to catch up again, Korc.”

“It’s been remarkable, boss. The gang has never had so much unity. We keep going from strength to strength.” She grinned widely.

“I can’t pretend to take the credit for that, but I’m to understand you’d be my second-in command?” I sunk into the seat. It was rather comfortable, and the lighting relaxed me.

“That’s right. Been keeping things in the running while you’re off doing… things.” She tilted her head to the side.

[Eric does do the things.]

“And that’s why we’re here. We’d like to establish a line of connection to you so we can relay information as we’re out doing… things.”

She nodded. “Smart.”

“We just need some blood, I think. We left our blades at reception, though.” Felt a little more foolish about that now. Not exactly a criminal mastermind, was I?

“You’re in luck then, Boss.” She lifted up the shirt of her suit to reveal bandages wrapped around her scaled waist, a patch of them soaked crimson.

I furrowed my brow. As much as I would have liked to have tried healing her, I was just as likely to explode her with divine energy rather than fill her with demonic. “What happened?”

“Pigman ambush.” She grimaced. “Killed half of the bastards, but the ringleader got away.”

“Fuckers,” I murmured. We needed to track them down and finish them off.

Wight leaned forward and prodded at the wound, a wisp of dark energy pooling through the bandage. After two seconds, he moved back and gave me a nod.

[That should be enough, thank you, the Korc.]

“You’ve done us well so far.” Her tongue licked around her sharp teeth. “I hear you’ve been inviting non-crocs to the gang, too?”

“You guys will always be the backbone of my forces down here,” I said diplomatically, perhaps reciting from some movie I had once seen, “but growth sometimes requires change.”

She nodded slowly.

“Plus, I want to get you guys some guns, so if you’re open minded… soon your enemies will be too.” I gave her a wink, half wishing I had a drink to sip to seal the deal on that one-liner.

“Excited already, Boss.” She pulled his shirt back down and gave me a seated bow.

A shadowed figure stepped into the opening of our booth, and at first I thought it was her returning lover, but it was the wrong shape.

Four barbed arms leaned forward on the table as an insectoid face loomed into the light. Mandibles twitched as his voice hissed out toward me.

“Pretty ballsy showing your face in here, Hunter.”