Arthur barely paid attention to his surroundings as Theobold kept the rickshaw moving at a steady pace through the streets of Ashtown.

There wasn’t much need to study the broken buildings and ruined signs. Not after taking the trip to Diaboli Theatrum and back so many times in the last few weeks. Though he enjoyed the chance to relax.

With all the attacks by the now-defunct demonic cult now complete, he needed to turn his attention to the management of his stores. Which turned out to be more work than he’d expected. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. Weapons breaking, people looking for housing, or even scavengers attempting to sell unfit items on occasion.

Arthur couldn’t help but sigh as he leaned back into the rickshaw’s comfortable seats. These were some of the few times he got to relax. Plus, he enjoyed getting to check in on Carina. As much as Nyssa made fun of him for the habit.

The former head of the Heady crime family needed little oversight to be fair. Each time he visited, everything was fine. Even the former cultists didn’t give her any trouble. Most happy as long as she didn’t kick them out of their luxury bunker homes.

Today’s visit, however, wasn’t a business call or even a check-in. No, it served two purposes. One to give her a lift to the meeting with all the department heads. Two, to try to understand the note she’d delivered to him.

The messenger had arrived riding on one of Riccardo’s old bikes, and from the sweat and panting, he had ridden hard to get there quickly. Arthur happily paid the two-penny fee before he took the note. It was simple and to the point. A fact he appreciated.

Hi Arthur,

I’ve been looking over the last week’s financial records, and there have been some strange discrepancies. I’d like to speak to you before we have our normal all-hands meeting.

Thank you

Carina

"Theft?" was his first thought, but he dismissed it. "Who’d bother stealing from me? Any money they took would come back to me, anyway. A cultist skimming the books to line their own pockets? Possible. Though, again, it seems like an odd choice. Someone handing out free supplies?"

A faint heat filled him at the thought of someone giving away his hoard for nothing. It was nothing like when he had his locket. However, he couldn’t regret giving it up, even if it lessened the draconic magic that had kick-started his transformation.

He still remembered a comment made by Red, a smith he’d met in The Multiverse Mall. She’d made a remark about how some dragons were made for the job and others were born into it.

As he ran his tongue over his now-pointed teeth, he started understanding what she meant. That raised the question, though. How many of the dragons started as dragons? Pydes often called Epyrth mother when he spoke of her. Gastho never did.

Did that mean Gastho was closer to Arthur in terms of origin? If so, how did he get into that side of the business instead of running a store? It was a question Arthur knew he should ask. One of many. He still remembered what Rathnil, the fake Archdemon, implied he should look into.

How did she, Epyrth, get her power? That was the question that crept up on him when he wasn’t careful. It nagged at him, but he didn’t know who to ask. Pydes, he knew, wouldn’t or couldn’t tell him. That left Gastho or someone else at the mall.

Before he could lose himself in that line of thought, they turned a corner. Alongside him, he could see the golf course. No longer empty, he saw groups wandering the grounds. A few played, but others sat under the shelter of trees. Blankets and picnics spread out as they ate.

Laughter drifted up from the course as they passed, causing him to smile. It felt good to hear the sounds of celebration. When Epyrth first sent him here, he could remember the quiet and his dread about ever seeing another living soul. Now though? Now they were everywhere, and none of them wanted to harm him.

Another frequent occurrence when he’d started. A grimace crossed his face, and he put it out of his mind. There was no need to dwell on that now.

Theobold slowed their pace further as they joined the crowd that made its way to the same destination. Groups made up of ex-gangsters and scavengers walked together. They chatted about their finds and the ease of the job.

That was important, it appeared.

While he still had people who braved the sewers, most were taking an easier way out. It was more of an option now that they had two boxes that could clone food gathered from the farms and The Greenhouse.

Still, there were monsters down there, and someone needed to deal with them. While they didn’t need to rely on rat meat, the Slagsouls needed to be killed. It turned out that the things could breed by splitting and then slowly growing. Which would mean they’d be almost impossible to eradicate.

One idiot thought they could farm them and brought them up into the second-level tunnels. They’d found his body, but not the Slagsouls. No one tried to mimic him.

Theobold slowed them to a stop outside the doors, and Arthur hopped out onto the street. A few people greeted him, and he waved back. A few he didn’t even recognize, but they held the same excitement in their eyes that Dylan had on his first days.

Proof that Nyssa’s efforts at advertising were paying off. Even if she had to create an original stencil for their new store.

A few women giggled as Theobold stood tall and nodded to Arthur. "Are you ready to go, boss?"

"Sure, is the rickshaw secure?" Arthur tried his best to sound professional while hiding his grin.

It wasn’t hard to notice the way Theobold puffed out his chest. As much as he’d hated the body at first, it was clear he’d gotten used to it.

"Yes, boss."

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

"In that case, lead the way."

Theobold did, and Arthur shook his head at the strut he saw in the young mutant’s step.

***

The two guards keeping the line to come inside in check stepped away at his approach and nodded to him.

"Sir."

"Hey guys," Arthur said as he skipped the queue and stepped into Diaboli Theatrum.

Not a single sign of the battle remained as he followed Theobold across the rooms to the elevator. Around him, customers filled the space. They moved about, examining the various items on display. Most of this floor remained as clothing items, though it now trended towards casual rather than business.

With a nod to the man behind the counter, Arthur pulled out his access card for the elevators. It granted him full access to the building, not that he went to more than two places—the orchard and the offices.

The Orchard was doing well. All the trees, even underground, remained healthy, with both water and earth elementals tending to them. On his last visit, he’d run into Benny and several others, who were packing the money into sacks to be taken upstairs.

They all seemed happy with the work, so Arthur left them to it.

Theobold led the way as they stepped off the elevator and started down the hallway. Ex-cultists dressed in business attire moved the halls with purpose. As they turned the corner, they bumped into a familiar face.

Cups rattled, and Sandy grumbled as she steadied the tray she held. He could smell the scent of tea and coffee as she stepped back. Her blonde hair was once again in a bun, though he could see strands sticking out of it. That, and the bags under her eyes, told him how tired she was.

A scowl flashed across her face before she controlled her expression.

"Welcome, Mr. Clark. You’re here to meet with C—Miss Heady?"

Arthur tried not to smile at the slip. "I am."

Under Richard Greenwine, Diaboli Theatrum’s last manager, Sandy had been a personal secretary. When they’d captured Carina, she’d made her life unpleasant. It appeared the table had now turned, and she wasn’t enjoying it.

For a moment, he wondered if he should step in, but decided against it. He still remembered the way she’d tried to get Nyssa and Augustus attacked by demons during a business lunch.

"In that case, follow me, sir." Sandy turned on a heel and stomped off. "She’s expecting you."

Behind him, he heard Theobold give a quiet snort. From the way Sandy’s shoulders twitched, she’d heard it, too. It wasn’t a long walk, nor one that required an escort. But he knew that wasn’t the point of this little display.

With one of the fakest smiles he’d ever seen, Sandy pointed him to a closed door. One that still had Richard Greenwine’s name on it. The brass plaque proved stubborn to remove. A sign of defiance from the previous CEO, no doubt.

"Thanks," Arthur said politely, before Sandy turned and stalked off.

Her heels left dents in the carpet as she left, and he heard someone nearby snicker. He didn’t let his grin show as he turned toward the door. With quick movements, he knocked twice on the door.

It swung open on its own. He glanced at Theobold, who shrugged before he stepped inside.

Carina’s new office was bigger than his own back at home. Hers included far more furniture than his. The desk she sat behind was larger, with a polished wooden top. Large filing cabinets lined the back wall. However, it was the chair that caught his eye. High-backed and professional-looking, unlike his chair back home.

Jealousy filled him at the sight, but he pushed it down. He could get his own fancy furniture if he wanted to. Better ones. It would simply require going back to the mall. Though he’d been avoiding that since he’d helped destroy all those stalls.

The woman who’d asked to see him sat behind the desk. She wore a suit now, black to match her long hair, without a tie. Her purple eyes focused on the mess of paperwork that covered the desk. He wondered how many times she’d duplicated the papers with the Stock Loop store perk.

"Carina?" He asked as he moved towards the desk, Theobold taking his place by the door.

From the noise that caused him to wince in sympathy, it was clear he'd startled her. Arthur knew the sound of someone banging a knee against a desk. He’d done it enough times. There was a tremble in her eyes as she looked at him. One that she schooled quickly.

"With what she’s been through, I’m not surprised," He thought as he settled into a chair.

"So?" Arthur asked as he gestured to the papers. "What did you want to show me?"

Her voice sounded tired as she looked at him, and he could see bags under her eyes. With no preamble, she pushed a stack of papers over to him. A quick glance at the top pages told him they were earning reports.

"That doesn’t add up, right?"

Arthur frowned as he looked them over. It was sales data for the past week, and it took him two re-reads before he could understand it. When he did, his frown deepened, and he tapped his finger against them.

"Wednesday is low. Not half as much as the other days, but low. A quiet day?"

"Not that anyone told me," Carina said with a shake of her head. "We had our regular customers come in. It’s not like they have much else to do."

"True enough," He thought as he looked back down at the reports.

Besides scavenging and browsing, there was little entertainment to be found around the city. Not that there was nothing to do at all. One scavenger group had found a set of board games stored in a basement with minimal damage. Those he’d bought up cheap and now rented out.

He’d also duplicated them, selling a few copies here and there to those who had the extra income. Carina, he knew, had done something similar with a pack of playing cards. Every so often, she ran high-stakes poker tournaments for her more esteemed customers.

Which mostly meant the ex-cultists.

"I’m assuming this isn’t the first time you’ve found a discrepancy like this?" Arthur looked up at Carina, curious about her response.

She shook her head. "No, this is the third one I’ve found. Though the others weren’t on this scale. What do you want to do?"

"Do we know who manned the counter on those days?" He asked before he gestured to the door. "Or can we find out?"

"Yes." Carina reached out and tapped on a notebook.

"Get that organized. How long will it take?"

"A day?" She said. "What did you want me to do with them?"

Arthur nodded as he watched her organize the papers on her desk back into piles. Though, from the way she moved, the task didn’t hold her full attention. No, he could tell from the way her eyes flicked toward him she was waiting on his response.

"A test?" He wondered as he pondered how best to respond.

It wasn’t the first time she’d done something like this. They were never hard, and they all centered on how he treated his people. Employees turning up late to shifts, complaints, and general brown-nosing.

He didn’t know what she was searching for, but he did his best to give an honest answer.

With a gesture to the door, he shrugged. "We discuss it with them, and if it’s an honest mistake, correct it."

"And if it’s not?" There was a hard note in her voice.

Arthur did his best not to grimace. "Then we figure out the extent of the issue."

Carina nodded, her expression giving nothing away. Still, she swept the papers into a nearby folder and stood.

"I suppose we should go, then?"

"We should," Arthur agreed as he took the folder from her and moved towards the door. "No point being late. It will frustrate Nyssa enough that she’s being dragged back for this."

That got a snort from Carina, but she said nothing. It wasn’t the first time she’d shown that reaction, but he didn’t know why. He didn’t press the issue. They could sort it out. As always, Arthur helped Carina into the rickshaw before taking the seat next to her.

Once everyone was ready, Theobold sped off.

They didn’t want to be late.