I ignored the oddness out of fear of appearing racist. Oh wait, is it racist, finding it odd? I just killed a black man. Is that racist? Panic!

But there is no internet here, so social activists can't do anything. Kalm.

But it might be a black supremacist society that enslaves white people! Panic!

Jokes aside, I could actually see some white people around, even some mixed races. And I wouldn't even count as white according to the most stringent white supremacist lunatics and leftist Emilies. So it should not be too bad. Mediterraneans for the win.

I went to my unfortunate victim. After checking he was indeed dead, I stripped and wore his clothes. A black tailor-made suit that fit me a little loosely, a white shirt, black papillon, and shiny shoes.

As both I and the clothes were covered in blood, I ripped my sleeves, dusted my clothes, and then smashed my face against the wall until my nose broke.

Never let people look for answers if you don't want them to know the truth. Create a more straightforward explanation for them, for example, not that I just ripped some guy's throat, but that I was beaten down, and the blood is mine.

I started going through his pockets in a high mood and spontaneously burst into singing.

"Here's a little lesson in trickery

This is going down in history

If you wanna be a Villain Number One!

You gotta loot your victim's remains."

In his pockets, I found a ring of keys I threw away, a silver knife, a coin purse filled to the brim, and a golden pocket watch, and yes, they have 24 hours and 60 minutes. Blessed is god for not forcing me to learn a new time system.

After filling up my pockets with my appearance fee, I walked around the room, looking for anything useful. I ignored the mixtures of powders and bubbly chemical liquids, as I knew nothing about them, the small paper labels on them would have been helpful to read, but they were written in squiggly character I didn't understand.

Theodore loudly complained about leaving behind the lab equipment, but I ignored him. We are on borrowed time here; at any moment, someone might come knocking on the door.

I halted. I could understand what the wanna-be demon lord said, but I couldn't read the language. Interesting.

In the end, the only thing of value was an old tome I found in a corner and a stick of wood with a little green gem, the former because I recognized the magic circle in one of the pages, the latter because it looks like a wand. Maybe I'll understand how to use it and start casting fireballs everywhere.

Checking my coat and pockets, I felt ready to go. and that's when Luther stopped me. "We can't leave any traces of us, place the tarp back on the window and blow out the fire of the gas lamp, but let the gas open."

Smacking my lips, I thought, that's so devious, that's why he is my favorite. I did as suggested and quickly left the laboratory.

I went down a flight of stairs and opened one last door. Sunlight bathed me, as warm as a lover's embrace, and smoke scented breeze tousled my hair to congratulate me on my escape.

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"Feels good to be free." Filling my air with the smoggy air, I took my first official step outside in the new world.

So, let's plan what to do now:

1. Need to wash. I can't go around looking like Marylin Manson after he ate a live bat.

2. New clothes. Police and other violent types often target homeless people.

3. Base of Operations. Pretty self-explanatory.

4. Intel. I don't know where I am or the local situation.

5. "Get some, ladies!"

"Richard! get out of my list!" I growled at the most annoying of my mind-mates.

"Aw, c'mon, man! Just because you are the personification of madness and revenge doesn't mean we can't get some of this local booty."

I massaged my temples, a massive headache growing when confronting that sleazy fellow.

"Maybe later. Just do me a favor and pretend to be mute, like the bug you are, and stop buzzing in my head while I try to figure out how to survive here."

Richard harrumphed but stopped talking. I took this small victory and went back to planning.

Lastly, I'll need money, a source of it, and to learn to read.

I resisted the urge to take out my knife and start stabbing people around to relieve stress. "A good demon is a patient demon," I repeated like a mantra and started walking in a random direction.

The wide roads reminded me of post-revolution France. To hinder the barricade strategy that netted the french revolutionaries' victory, Napoleon the third, elected by those same revolutionaries, had the most important streets in Paris widened. In the end, this plan panned out, and the subsequent attempts at revolution against him failed.

But I digress. The colors dominating the three-four story houses were a soft beige for external walls and blue-tiled roofs. He could see rich decorations inside the homes from the windows and deducted he should be in a central district or important boulevard.

The people around him threw him disgusted glances, but no one had taken the initiative of beating him up. So his status as a white vagabond wasn't as proscribed as to warrant random people to beat him up.

"Huh, blacks here behave much more tolerant than the white supremacists back home. Maybe they really are better people." I mused, heading to a smaller alley.

Just as I was about to separate from the richly dressed crowd, I heard a yell that froze me on the spot. "Halt!" I noticed a duo of men clad in uniforms and pointing a baton at me.

"Uh-oh. Welp, here I go killing again." I placed my hand on the silver dagger, fully knowing it would be useless after the first stab. Something inside burned in excitement and hunger for more blood.

"Retreat. You stand no chance. Either that or pass the body to Richard and hope he will be able to talk them out of throwing you in jail."

"Fuck you, Steven!" He had a point, but something inside craved a bloody end: fighting and dying instead of running to live another day.

"Damn it, Luther, take the body!" I hoped that whatever influence stopped me from running away wouldn't work on Luther.

With a blink, I retracted behind my eyes, losing all feeling in my body and seeing the world from behind a window.

And I came to existence.

I sprinted in the alleyway, where the chances of stumbling on another patrol were statistically lower.

The duo chased after me. Their speed is faster than mine. Problem, this body condition is too bad. Solution, slow down to save speed and wait for them to get close enough.

I reverse held the dagger in my hand. When the closest cop was close enough to swing his baton at me, I crouched and jumped backward, passing under his arm. As I slipped by, my blade found its new sheet in the man's sternum.

He folded over in pain. I swiftly pushed him over to his partner and kept running onwards, turning in a zigzagging pattern at intersections.

When the chances of being intercepted or captured went down to acceptable levels, I climbed through an open window and sat down.

"That was amazing, Luther!" Dorian spoke to me. I didn't react to his words and collected my breath. I could hear someone walking over from behind the door.

I got up and hid in the blind spot of the entrance. In a majordomo's uniform, a white man kicked the hardwood door with a bang and charged a gun pointing forward into the room.

Springing forward, a kick quickly hit the back of the man's knee, followed swiftly by a knee in his face as he fell forward. He collapsed on his back but undaunted, and he moved to shoot me still.

I tried to twist his arm, and two gunshots echoed in the shuffle; realizing I was weaker, I threw all my body weight into falling and folding his arm so that the gun's mouth pointed at his head. Bang!

The man's brain sprayed in the doorway.

"YES! Take that, you bitch! Bet you didn't expect us to blow your mind," Dorian cheered. Something wiggled on top of my head, but there was no time to waste. I could hear noises in the other room.

With the revolver in my right hand, I cautiously approached the noises. A corridor stood before me, three rooms on the left and two on the left.

The noises came from the leftmost door. Placing a hear against the door, I could identify the noises as the clicking and clacking of door bolts. Slowly opening the door, a frightened pudgy black man covered in sweat appeared before my eyes.

He noticed me and froze, his hands one step away from opening the main entrance to the house and escaping. I approached the man, gun pointing at his head and ready to claim his life, but Dorian stopped me.

"Wait, I have an idea. Give the body back."

I acknowledged it and retreated inside my mind, losing control and feeling over the body.

A blink later, my face's monotonous look disappeared, replaced by wild eyes and a malicious smile.

"Good evening, I can't help but notice your sudden lack of good staff. And look at that, I'm coincidentally also free."