Chapter 51: A Deal With The Devil

Twenty stood on the balcony of his room, staring at the full moon suspended high in the night sky. A glass of whiskey rested in one hand and a cigar in the other. Though he tried to appear composed, tension coiled beneath the surface. The recent developments had twisted his court case into something far more dangerous, and the only path out now lay with the mysterious man his lawyer had recommended.

If that man proved less capable than Damian had claimed, Twenty knew he was staring down the barrel of a life sentence.

“The answers you seek are not in the stars… It lies in the abyss.”

Twenty jerked sharply to the left at the unfamiliar voice. The glass slipped from his hand as he grabbed the terrace for balance. His chest rose and fell violently as he stared at the strange figure leaning against the railing, gaze fixed calmly on the moon as if he had always been there.

The man stood a little over six feet tall, his hair slicked back neatly, framing the edges of a black fox mask. He wore a fitted black shirt and jeans that complemented his close fitting black gloves and the long leather trench coat draped over his shoulders. If he had not spoken, Twenty would never have sensed his presence. Beneath the mask was pure darkness, broken only by a burning violet slit where his eyes should have been.

“My student said you were a deadly gangster. I’m guessing that information was greatly exaggerated.”

Damian’s voice, distorted through the one tailed fox mask, carried a deeper, unfamiliar timbre. Only when he heard the word “student” did Twenty piece it together. This had to be the man Damian recommended, and the student he mentioned was Damian himself, his lawyer.

“Come on now, man. You shouldn’t be sneaking up on people like that. If I was strapped, this could’ve gone south real fast.” Twenty rolled his shoulders as he spoke, perhaps trying to appear larger. It did nothing.

After an uninterested glance, Damian snapped his fingers. Crimson flames erupted around him, flaring violently and forcing Twenty to stumble back with a scream.

“Good mother, dear lord!”

The fire vanished as abruptly as it had appeared. No scorch marks. No lingering heat. The only proof anything had happened was the absence of the shattered glass, which had been reduced to nothing.

Twenty found himself pressed into a corner of the balcony, breathing hard, his face wearing the expression of a man who had just seen the impossible. He remembered Damian’s claims about this mysterious figure who could accomplish unthinkable feats, even persuading judges to alter verdicts. He had assumed influence, blackmail, leverage. He had not imagined power.

“That’s some crazy voodoo shit,” Twenty muttered, but Damian ignored him entirely, gaze still lifted toward the sky.

Ehem!

Twenty cleared his throat awkwardly, unsure how to conduct himself now. Several seconds passed as he rehearsed his next words. Before he could speak, Damian beat him to it.

“I was informed of recent developments in your case,” Damian said calmly, shifting his attention to meet his gaze. “Your people are complicating things for my student.”

Twenty coughed again, gripping a handful of his dreads as frustration spilled over. He punched the air, then kicked the railing before finally responding.

“Can you help me make this problem go away?”

“I can make any problem go away. The real question is, how much is your freedom worth?”

Twenty hesitated. Too low a number might insult this man. Too high, and he would look desperate. But beyond the current crisis, another thought formed. If this man truly delivered, was he not exactly the kind of ally worth keeping close?

A good first impression matters.

He placed the cigar between his lips, lit it, and drew deeply before exhaling smoke through both nose and mouth.

“Everyone around the block knows I ain’t stingy. So how about three million? One million down payment and another two when all this shit is over.”

Damian’s heart skipped, though he betrayed nothing. He had arrived prepared to demand one and a half million. To be offered double without negotiation was beyond expectation.

Excitement surged within him, but he remained still, eyes trained on the moon as if the offer meant nothing.

After a measured pause, he gave a slow nod and turned to face Twenty fully.

“Prepare it in cash. I’ll be coming to take it a week from now. By then, you should have received some good news from my student.”

With that, purple flames exploded outward as Damian leapt onto the terrace before Twenty could reply. He sprang from the edge, his body bursting into a thousand bats that scattered in every direction. Twenty recoiled in shock and terror.

In truth, the display was nothing more than illusion. The purple flames masked his movement as he dropped to the ground like any ordinary man before sprinting off with a speed stat of seventeen points.

Twelve points beyond the human limit made him a blur. The human eye could not track him.

Unaware, Twenty was already hammering frantic messages into his phone while, in the dark alley of a building across the street, Damian stood in silence. Ruby’s figure materialized behind him, arms folded beneath her chest as she observed Twenty from afar.

She had witnessed everything, remaining at Damian’s side the entire time. Watching her husband maneuver the situation so smoothly, she felt pride swell within her. He had shown restraint even in the face of sudden wealth.

Lin Qui had always favored elaborate schemes, preferring to orchestrate events like a hidden puppeteer. As Ruby stared at Damian’s back, Lin Qui’s image seemed to overlap with his.

She reached out to touch him, but her hand froze midair. After a moment, she withdrew it. Damian turned, unaware of her hesitation.

“Come on. We have one more stop before we call it a night.”

He grinned beneath the fox mask, the expression unseen but unmistakably sinister.

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