Chapter Two

Ambrose Severen opened his eyes to the sound of smooth jazz. Oh, Alice…Ambrose wanted to fall to the ground, tear at his hair, and let loose his rage to the heavens. He did none of that. Ambrose knew the emotions should be there, knew he should feel crippled with grief and anguish. He could feel the grief, just behind a mental dam in his mind. He knew it was there as surely as he knew his own thoughts.

One thought got through despite the dam. One burning, wrathful thought.

I’m going to kill Eric Delorsa. I’m going to utterly destroy anything and everything he builds in this new world. He could feel his rage bashing against that mental dam, like the fist of an angry god. It wanted out, it wanted to suffuse his being like a tempest.

Ambrose probed at the dam in his mind. He wanted to break it open. I should feel that grief and rage. I need to feel it. He pried at the mental barrier with a crowbar of thought. It wouldn’t budge. Whatever that barrier was, Ambrose could not get through it. Why aren’t I angry about it? He should be. He just felt…regular. Normal.

Understanding that he couldn’t break that barrier and feeling fine about that for some reason, Ambrose took stock of where he was at. He was in a club, from the look of it, an old one. The bar was made of dark oak that shined under the old fluorescent light bulbs that hung over it. Cigarette smoke trailed lazily upward from ashtrays. Antique leather bar stools lined the bar, and old tables numbering thirteen were scattered throughout the club. Old school blues were being played on the stage by an old man with tanned leather skin and a faded suit. He was playing a guitar for all he was worth.

Other than Ambrose, there were only two other people in the bar: the man playing the guitar and the bartender. The man tending the bar had skin the color of rich milk chocolate, with not a single blemish on him. He wore a dark red suit and a matching fedora over tawny gold hair that curled just past his pointed ears. He was lean, and he was staring right at Ambrose.

Staring at him with dark red eyes slit like a viper. Something was in them. Ambrose wasn’t sure what that was; it could have been a knowing, a kind of knowledge not found in the mortal world. Or it could have just been that his eyes were simply unnerving.

As if called to it, Ambrose sat on the stool in front of the bar. The bartender with the red eyes produced a glass from seemingly out of thin air and placed it in front of him. A dark gold liquid followed, a swallow worth filling the crystal glass. Ambrose shrugged and downed it, the liquid a pleasant burn down his throat.

“Where am I?”

The bartender smiled at his question,

“It’s less of a place and more of a state of being. Let’s say you’re between.”

Ambrose tapped the side of the glass; more liquid filled the glass. Ambrose drank it.

“So, what? On my way to hell?”

The bartender chuckled.

“No, nothing like that. If there is heaven or hell, I’m not aware of it. You aren’t dead, anyway.”

Ambrose stared at the glass, nodding.

“So, who are you, anyway?”

The bartender began wiping a cloth over the counter, again produced from nowhere. The counter was perfect, its glossy surface free of even a speck of dust, dirt, or smudge.

“I have many names. You may call me Misaq; it is a name this world has often attributed to me.”

Ambrose took another shot, savoring it.

“I’ve never liked the word ‘vibes,’ but you’re giving me real devil vibes here. Are you Satan? Here for my soul?”

Another chuckle. Misaq flourished the cloth, and it ended up on his shoulder. His viper eyes twinkled with amusement.

“I have nothing to do with any religion. I promise that. I am a devil, but not in the religious sense. It’s just what I am, as you are a human. It also has nothing to do with why I brought you here.”

Ambrose grunted and waved a hand for the bartender to get to the point.

“Not much of a conversationalist, are you? Any other questions? Such as why you aren’t freaking out right now?”

Ambrose shrugged,

“I’m assuming it has something to do with you.”

Misaq raised a tawny eyebrow,

“Put that together quicker than I would have thought. You’re right. Can’t have you breaking down in anguish while having this little talk, can we? Even if it is understandable. You’re here for me to offer you a deal.”

Ambrose stared at the devil.

“What kind of deal?”

Misaq smiled,

“The kind where you get a chance at revenge for the murder of your wife and child.”

That should have gotten a rise out of Ambrose. He knew that, but he merely closed his eyes and breathed.

“Whatever deal you’re offering, does it include the opportunity to kill Eric Delrosa?”

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“It might. You must have seen the message before I pulled you here. Your universe being integrated into the System.”

Ambrose made a rolling motion with his forefinger.

“Sheesh. Impatient. This event will end the world as you know it. People will gain levels, classes, and attributes. In short, they will gain power. Like all power, it doesn’t come free. Monsters will spawn, and incursions will begin. New factions will rise to replace the civilization that has fallen.”

Ambrose took another shot, raising his head to the ceiling as the liquid ran down his throat.

“What does this have to do with the deal you want to offer me? I’m hearing a lot of nothing when I want to be hearing about how this helps me kill Eric. You still haven’t gotten to the point.”

Ambrose brought his head down to regard the devil.

“I’m getting there. You need the context. The System is very protective of newly integrated worlds. It doesn’t allow much manipulation from those of us who have been in the game for a while, meaning we need ground operators. People pressing our interests.”

“Ah, so you want me to be your pawn.”

Misaq shrugged,

“Call it what you will. I want you to work for me.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

Misaq leaned against the bar, gaze intense,

“Three things. I want you to collect things for me. The System spreads knowledge, artifacts, and other items throughout newly integrated worlds. Secondly, I want you to build a city in the new world. It doesn’t have to be dedicated to me, but I do want a kind of…getaway on your world. Finally, I want you to punish the unclean.”

Ambrose was sure he would have chuckled had his emotions not been so suppressed.

“The unclean? What do you mean by that?”

The devil waved a hand,

“The unclean. Sinners. Ugh, your world's language is so imprecise. Bad people, Ambrose. Find them, punish them.”

“Okay, and what do you get out of that?”

Misaq tapped his nose,

“Immense satisfaction? It’s irrelevant to you. Don’t you want to know what you get?”

Ambrose motioned for him to continue.

“You get to live, for starters.”

Ambrose looked down at himself and back up at Misaq, raising an eyebrow.

“This isn’t really you, Ambrose. It's more of a projection of your consciousness, for lack of a better explanation. I have sort of…highjacked your mind for the purposes of this talk. You’re still in your room, bleeding out. Without my intervention, you will…stop.”

Ambrose nodded,

“Other than saving my life, what else do I get? You better include me being able to kill Eric, or I’m not much interested.”

Misaq grinned,

“I did, indeed. I will also give you the opportunity to earn power.”

“Wait. You won’t just give it to me? All I get is the opportunity?”

The devil held up his hands in a what-can-you-do gesture,

“The System won’t allow me just to give you power. If I were a god or perhaps a Primordial, I might be able to offer you a blessing, but those asshats are incredibly choosy about that sort of thing, and even then, the System demands the chosen to do something to earn it. I am none of those things. I can heal your body, influence the class you will get, and give you an opportunity to earn more power. That’s about it.”

“All I have to do in returnis those three things you mentioned?”

Misaq nodded with the kind of grin you see on salesmen who know they have you hooked.

Ambrose wasn’t quite ready to jump into bed with the devil just yet.

“I want you to help me find and kill Eric Delrosa.”

Misaq’s eyebrow twitched,

“Oof. I don’t think I can swing that. As I said, direct assistance is limited by the System. The only reason I am allowed to act this much is because it is an equivalent exchange of sorts, and you’re allowed to refuse. The System sure does love choice. I can throw in a couple of additional things, however. To sweeten the pot.”

Ambrose waited.

“I can offer you a companion. A familiar, if you will. It’s a kind of living cloak that can manifest into animal form. The cloak will be soul-bound to you, so you’ll never be able to lose it, and it can never be taken from you. I can also allow you to pick your class now. That’s about as good an offer as I can give you, Ambrose.”

Ambrose shook his head,

“No, it isn’t.”

Misaq grimaced,

“It kind of is…”

“No, you can give me information. Surely the System won’t prevent that.”

Misaq’s mouth moved as if he were chewing on something sour.

“No…It technically won’t if it is a part of our deal. I can’t give you the information before you agree, however.”

There wasn’t much for Ambrose to consider. A chance to get revenge for his murdered wife and child? I’m not angry now, but I know that I am angry. That ledger needs to be balanced. Without this deal, he was dead. That was that.

“Okay, I’m in.”

Misaq smiled.

“Excellent. Before I produce the contract for you to sign, you should know that I won’t be able to heal you again. Contracts like this are a skill that is a part of my class, but it’s limited. I can only make one kind of deal per customer. Which means healing after this is off the table. We wouldn’t want you thinking you can reach out and deal away your problems, would we?”

Ambrose stared at him. Misaq shook his head and flourished a hand. A scroll appeared within it, and he unraveled the scroll with another flourish. The long, ancient-looking paper rolled out smoothly over the glossy black countertop.

“That’s a lot of text. You know I have to read that, right?”

Misaq shrugged,

“I would expect nothing less. Shall we get started?”

His shark-like grin punctuated the question.

Ambrose sighed.

It was a lot, but Ambrose pored over every word. Misaq had tried to slip something in the document saying he would do whatever Misaq said. It wasn’t phrased in those words, but that’s what it boiled down to.

“Can’t blame a devil for trying, can you?”

Ambrose stared at him and sighed before starting over. He found two more instances where the devil tried to get one over on him. Misaq never once looked frustrated but rather clapped his hands in delight.

“Bravo! You’re good at this!”

It was some time before Ambrose felt confident that he had caught everything, but even then, he was a little uncertain. He was as sure as he could be, however. He pursed his lips, staring at the document before signing it with an expensive-looking pen Misaq provided.

Misaq beamed at him.

“Wonderful! Let’s get you healed; then, it’s time for you to awaken your class and become truly integrated! Then I will send you off to that opportunity I told you about and give you your cloak. Ready?”

Ambrose nodded,

“As I’ll ever be.”

Another grin.

“Let’s begin.”

Ambrose Severen opened his eyes as he sucked in a deep breath. His heart thudded in his chest like a solo drummer was going to town. His hands slapped his body as he stood up. No gunshot wounds. Wounds were more than physical, though, and he looked over at his bed.

Alice’s bloody body was lying there, lifeless. Her dead green eyes bore into his, somehow accusatory. Ambrose’s fists were clenched tight; his breath was ragged as he forced himself to stare into those eyes that had once shined with life and love. Love for him.

Just like the first one he had ever seen, a notification popped into existence in front of him.

[Attention newly integrated! Due to the terms of your deal with the devil known to you as “Misaq,” you will be offered a class selection now instead of at level 10. You will also receive the living item “Noelle.” Generate class choices?

Y/N?]

Ambrose dismissed the notification with a thought. He knew the System responded to thoughts like that due to his brief conversation with Misaq as they had gone through the contract together. For a long time, Ambrose just stared at his dead wife. Stared, and stared…and stared.

I did this. Ambrose couldn’t help the thought. It was true. He had provoked Eric deliberately. He had chosen words he knew would get under the man’s skin. Words he knew would anger him. Eric had that effect on him. If I had just controlled my anger, she would still be alive—another true thought.

“I will make this right, Alice. Everyone involved in this will hang, I promise. I’ll tie the noose myself.” He whispered the statement to her, fists quivering.

He willed his answer to the System.

It was time to select a class.