Archibald Zemersmith watched with fascination as Zane worked. Safely housed in the soul gem inside his necklace, he could observe everything without risking being seen.

Archie found the fact that a humble chef had managed to find their way through his temple most perplexing. Zane didn't even have a combat class, or a particularly high level. But he had still managed to do the impossible.

Over the years, thousands of other cultivators had been impaled on spikes, or ground to paste by his guardian. They had all failed to reach the finish line, but not this one. No, Zane was special. He could come back from the dead, which made him a perfect host.

The necklace that housed Archie’s spirit was a pinky sized cylinder of matte gray steel with a hole at the top to run a cord through. The utilitarian piece of jewelry would have been hard to tell from any other junk that a street peddler might sell. But it was definitely one of a kind.

The diamonds that held the enchantments were completely encased in a small cylinder of magically hardened steel, protected from any stray sword swings or firebolts. Rigorous testing had shown that it would take the full force of several high level cultivators to even scratch the surface. And most importantly, the bottom doubled as a socket wrench.

In addition to housing his spirit, Archie’s necklace had enchantments to resist detection, prevent theft, store items, and shield the wearer from mental manipulation. However, it could not protect Zane from Archie.

Body snatching was a popular method for extending one's lifespan. Though its practice was almost universally banned, Archie had been doing it for centuries, and had no intention of stopping. Besides, the young man owed him one for destroying his previous host.

Zane remained oblivious as the dead wizard went to work. Archie started by binding the necklace to its new owner. That would prevent the young man from selling or discarding it before the process was complete.

Next, Archie stretched out a tendril of his consciousness towards the young man's core like a taproot. Once it made contact, he started to align his spirit with Zane's, blending their Essence together.

Brute forcing his way in was quicker, but potential hosts tended to notice a sudden influx of foreign Essence. No, slow and steady was the way to go. Archie had learned that the hard way.

Just as the dead wizard was about to finish merging with his new host, he felt an intense sensation of pressure pushing down on him. His senses were blocked off from the outside world, and he was plunged into darkness.

What in the seven hells just happened? Archie wondered as his spirit drifted aimlessly in the void. Then, a chill started to creep up his non-existent spine. He was not alone. There was something in the dark with him.

The dead wizard tried to return to his soul gem, but the connection had been severed. Archie started to panic as a low chuckle reverberated through the void.

“Sorry, my friend,” said a voice, “This one is already taken.”

Archie was quickly consumed by the hungry spirit. Though it was a mere echo of the god that had spawned it, the spirit effortlessly removed Archie from the soul gem and core without alerting its host.

Then, it went back to sleep.

***

Meanwhile, across the city, chef Cara Bazura was about ready to tear his hair out. But he didn't, because it had been quite expensive.

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Ever since Zane came to the city, his business had been in a state of decline. Wealthy patrons were sleeping in and sending their servants out to fetch brunch, instead of paying for his overpriced breakfasts.

Worse yet, the absence of cultivators had led to a resurgence of noodle shops and other small dinner venues. People had a wealth of dining options, now that the risks of being caught up in a brawl and killed were practically nil.

“Do we have any idea what Zane is up to?” the chef asked.

“No, boss,” replied a stocky man in an apron.

His name was Lug, and he liked cooking, but it hadn't been his first choice. When his old gang collapsed he had gone looking for work, and ended up in the restaurant business. There were a fair amount of similarities to his old occupation, and a lot of familiar faces, so he had settled in just fine.

Cara groaned. He needed to win this competition. With the current state of his business, only the catering contract for the winter festival would be enough to keep him from going under. “I thought you sent people to spy on him.”

“Yes, boss. I sent some guys from the neighborhood.”

“So, what have they seen?” Cara asked.

Lug shifted uncomfortably. “Uh… nothing, boss. They haven't come back yet. Actually, I'm starting to get a bit worried.”

The chef sighed. “Look, Lug. This competition is important. I need that contract to keep this business afloat, to pay your salaries.”

“Yes, boss. I understand. Do you want me to send more guys?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” said Cara, “Of course I want you to send more people! We need to know what Zane is planning to cook for the competition so we can beat him.”

“Yes, boss.” Lug nodded. “I understand. I'll take care of this myself to make sure it gets done properly.”

Cara watched Lug leave and let out another groan of frustration once he was gone. “What a fucking idiot,” the chef swore, “I'm surrounded by fucking idiots.”

***

A few hours later the former gangster turned line cook came back with bad news. He knocked on Cara’s office door, then entered with his head held low.

“Um, boss. I couldn't get into the restaurant, and I couldn't find any of the guys I sent either.” Lug anxiously fidgeted with the strings of his apron. “It's like they vanished or something.”

“So? What do I care about some thugs?” Cara snarled, “Zane probably paid them off, and now he knows we were trying to spy on him! Good job, Lug.”

“Sorry, boss.”

The chef felt his mind going into overdrive. He was pretty good in the kitchen, but he couldn't leave things up to chance. There was too much at stake.

“Alright, new plan,” said Cara, “How do you feel about arson?”

Burning down a building was definitely risky, but he needed the money. And Lug knew that he could kiss his job goodbye if he said no to Cara.

“I'm not opposed to it, if the price is right.” The former thug rubbed his fingers together to get the message across.

Cara groaned and retrieved some money from the safe. Finances were going to be tight this month, but he figured that burning out the competition was a worthwhile investment. Once Zane was gone, the catering contract would more than pay for any shortfall. Besides, he could always dock his workers’ pay.

“Are you happy now, you fucking mercenary?” asked Cara.

“Yes, boss,” replied Lug as he pocketed the coins.

“Good. Now, get your ass over there and burn down that restaurant,” said the chef, “The competition is tomorrow and I can't be distracted by any more of this foolishness.”

“Right, boss. I'm on it.” Lug gave a thumbs up and ran off before Cara could find another reason to get mad at him.

The chef softly pounded his head against the desk once the man was gone. Everything will be fine, he thought. One little fire, and all my troubles will go away.

Cara paused as a realization struck him. Once the restaurant burned down, he would still need to deal with Lug. The thug would probably want some payoff to keep quiet, which was a recurring expense that he hadn't budgeted for.

“Damn it,” the chef swore as he started formulating a plan to eliminate Lug once the deed was done. “Why does everyone have to be so greedy?”