“Well, well, look at that, just like I said, he’s in tip top shape.” Malcolm wrung an arm around Dalton’s neck.
Usually, he would probably snap around now, but he felt empty. Soulless. This place was hell, and he wanted to leave.
Eira gave an appraised look at Dalton. “He seems to be not dead. He is breathing, and not biting anyone else.”
“Biting?” Dalton looked to Eira.
“Yes. Malcolm once used a necromancer to raise a dead employee. A few people at the company turned into zombies, and we had to quarantine a wing of this floor.”
These people were monsters.
“You forgot to add, that this happened a month before Dalton came here. They’re still scrubbing those zombies.” Ozul chimed in.
“Is that why I hear gunshots sometimes. I thought they were from him.” Dalton pointed to Malcolm behind him.
“I like to practice, sue me.”
“You will be able to practice very soon, Malcolm. The Transportation Department will allow peace if you to go about your business once you clear out a goblin nest in one of their many warehouses.”
“Well, I won’t be doing that.” Malcolm growled.
Dalton moved his gaze, not caring for their bickering. He knew who ran their division of the department anyways. It was Eira. She would eventually bring out something that would coerce him into doing it.
Ozul overlooked their bickering with a mischievous grin.
“Yes. More.” A dark glow cascaded from his eyes.
He turned to Louise. She was cleaning off blood from her fists.
Dalton turned away. It was best not to get involved with her personally. Behind the kind demeanor there was no doubt something terrible underneath it.
At the same time, Dalton walked to his desk, the door blew open. Satoshi took a step in, his face like a wild weasel. His gaze swept the room, and when it landed on Dalton, his shaking lips turned into a snarl.
“You!”
He broke into a crouch and leapt at Dalton.
Eira stepped between them, throwing an aimed chop at Satoshi’s throat. Satoshi fell on his back, gasping for air.
“That was unintended.” Eira wiped off the specks of blood on her lips with her thumb. “I didn’t mean to crush his throat so he wouldn’t be able to talk. Malcolm, have you replenished your supply of potions?”
“Aye.” Malcolm nodded.
“Then give me one, so I may question why your potion weasel tried to attack our newbie.”
Dalton leaned back on his desk, his heart pounding from the surprise attack that had just occurred. He took a few deep breaths and watched as the series of events unfolded in front of him.
From one of his secret compartments in his desk, Malcolm tossed her a blue potion. She popped open the cork and drained the liquid in Satoshi’s open mouth. The addict twitched in pleasure as his throat healed.
“Ahhhhh. Fantastic.” Satoshi giggled like a little girl, grabbing Eira’s pant legs. “Can I have more?”
Eira sighed. “This is why I hate addicts.”
His chin was met with her foot. His head flung upwards, and her hand moved in a blur as she caught him by the throat. He looked hateful as he struggled to pull away from her grip. A stream of blood dripped from his mouth.
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“Malcolm.”
She caught another potion with her free hand.
His eyes gave a hungry look as she jiggled the potion in front of him.
“You want this don’t you?”
He nodded.
“Why did you attack Dalton? I’m going to release my grip just a little bit, if you struggle, you will not get this potion. Do you understand?”
He nodded. His hateful gaze turned over to him. Dalton was wondering why he had attacked him too. Eira loosened her grip.
“I did it because this man destroyed my favorite potion den.”
Everyone turned their gaze at Dalton.
“I don’t know what he’s talking about?”
“Wait, wait. Dalton, don’t you remember what happened last night?” Malcolm asked.
“Of course, I do.” Dalton felt bitter. “You made me take part of a death match using a children’s card game. I somehow won, and then I went home.”
“Stop right there. You’re missing what happened at night, you-” Malcolm stopped. “Never mind, that’s exactly what happened. Don’t you worry your sweet little head about it.”
Satoshi rose, but Eira kicked him back down, and pressed her boot on his chest. “This has to be revenge for Malcolm selling you to that potion witch! Don’t you dare deny it!”
“Potion…witch…” There was a distant scream in the back of his mind. “Nope nothing.”
“Well, there you have it. Nothing happened other than an illegal children’s card game duel where the head of the Transportation Department was tragically shot in the shoulder,” Malcolm pulled a file. “Now since that’s settled you have a new client, Dalton.”
“Oh.” Ozul covered his mouth and giggled. “You’re going to enjoy your client. I handpicked the worst one.”
“What?”
But Malcolm kept on pushing him out of the room, telling him to hurry.
#
Right across the table sat a very large and muscular man. A dragon eating the sun wrapped around his left arm, and on his right arm he had tally marks under the words “KILL COUNT.”
Since the moment he had stepped into the room, Dalton noticed that the man hadn’t blinked even once. He just gave him a very intensive stare.
“So, Mister…” Dalton flipped through the pages of his folder.
“Lucius. Lucius Decker.” The man leaned in. “And where the fuck am I? You don’t look like a cop.”
His hands were shaking very hard, and the papers in the folder dropped all over the ground.
“I’m sorry, what were you before you came here?” Dalton’s voice squeaked.
Lucius plucked one of the many papers on the floor. His eyes scanned the document, and then he turned his glare to him. “What is all of this? Where the fuck am I!” He slammed his fist on the table.
“Malcolm! You want to-”
He was not in the corner anymore. The door was wide open.
“That fatty left a long time ago.”
Dalton mechanically turned back to Lucius.
“Now, you’re going to GODDAMN answer ALL of my QUESTIONS, or I’m going to GODDAMN rip your THROAT out with my TEETH!”
Lucius slammed the paper in front of him.
Lucius Decker. Serial Killer. Has murdered twenty people before being caught. Known for killing people in cruel and unusual way. In prison he killed four roommates. Died by truck.
Ozul did mention that the Transportation Department had been giving them worse candidates. He didn’t expect them to be serial killers.
“You done reading?” Lucius asked. Then he raised his voice. “Do you think I’m a killer?”
“Yes.” Dalton winced at his own answer.
Lucius gave a long harder stare at Dalton. Then he laughed, slapping the table hard.
“You have balls, I’ll give you that!” A slight grin cracked on his face. “I like you….”
“Dalton.” His voice came out in a whimper.
“Dalton.” Lucius nodded. His tone softer, but still as dangerous. “Now, I don’t want to kill you, Dalton. But if you don’t answer my questions, I’m going to have to cut your face and wear it as a jock strap. You don’t want me to do that do you?”
“No.”
“That’s good. Now tell me, where the hell am I?”
So, Dalton explained where he was. That he was dead. What his job was, and the choices that Lucius had in front of him.
“So, I’m dead. I gotta say, this is much nicer than hell.” He barked open a laugh. “And now, I get to reincarnate with magical powers? And I’m supposed to kill a Demon King? What kind of stupid shit is this?”
“I don’t make the rules. I just enforce it.”
“What happens if I don’t do any of that?”
“I don’t do anything.”
Lucius again laughed. “Fuck, I didn’t expect this when I got hit by that goddamn truck after escaping prison! Hell, I should have tried harder to get to the electric chair to just get into this stupid shit!”
He was curious, so Dalton pulled up the image of Lucius’s death. The truck driver was celebrating killing Lucius in the image. He was pumping his arm and laughing hard.
And he was about to send a serial killer to another world.
“My only regret in all of this is not being able to kill that bastard Calvin Carmine.”
The name caught Dalton’s interest. “Calvin Carmine?”
He shouldn’t have said anything, because Lucius picked up on it like a dog. “What was that tone? Was it also in my file?”
“No, nothing like that.” Dalton picked at his tie’s knot. “Not a big deal, but I sent a guy named Calvin Carmine into one of the worlds I’m in charge of a few days ago.”
“Is that so?” Lucius leaned in. “Tell me was this man bald, a little short, a banker, and had a tattoo that said Amy on his left hand?”
Dalton started to laugh uncomfortably. “Yes.”
Lucius also started laughing. “Is that so. What a coincidence.”
“Yes. It really is.”
As he laughed even harder, Dalton followed his lead, and started to laugh as well.
“Why are you laughing Dalton?”
Dalton lowered his head. “No reason.”
“…Dalton.”
“…Yes.”
“You’re going to send me to that world.”
“…Yes”