Felix stared at his empty palms, a cold realization sinking in that was far more chilling than the grease-stained diner's atmosphere. He had just spent hours meticulously peeling currency away from desperate sinners, feeling the weight of the silver and the crinkle of the soul-bucks. But the moment he had sat down to truly count his take, the system had — quite literally — eaten his profits. The digital embers of his hard-earned cash were still fading from his skin.
A dry, bitter giggle escaped his throat, clicking against his metallic teeth. It was the ultimate irony of his new existence. In life, he was a gambler who couldn't stop spending; in Hell, he was a gambler who wasn't even allowed to hold his winnings. The Gacha was like a jealous god, demanding every cent be fed into its insatiable maw the moment it touched his skin.
"Here's your 'Sludge-Burger,' kid," a waitress with four arms rasped, slamming a plate in front of him. Giving a thankful wave and ignoring annoyed thoughts, he was racing through the logistics of the curse. If he couldn't hold money, he couldn't pay for this burger. Hell, he wouldn't be able to pay for a room a, weapon,or anything. As his mind raced, he took a deep breath, relaxing. He wasn't the only one inside.
There were a handful of customers who'd been here since before him, and they were simply minding their own business while they ate. It was natural to assume he had time to do the same. But he should do it fast. Although it was hard to notice, the owner was beginning to become impatient with some customers, indicated by the tapping her foot and subtle glimpses.
Looking down at his burger, he squinted, seeing it's gray and messy texture that smelt like wet cardboard. Taking a bite, he also added that the texture was rubbery and the flavor was practically non-existent. He hardly cared. He chewed slowly, letting his jaw click softly.
Every bite was a reminder that he was alive — or as alive as one could be. And although it tingled his pride to say, he was used to eating garbage. But that also inspired his new goal — become an overlord. That's what it meant to be at the top. With desires aside, he focused back onto his system.
Turns out, it had a limited-time event. A small, ticking clock in the corner showed thirteen days remaining before the 'Newbie Discount' vanished. Even with the sale, the prices felt like a physical slap to his face.
[THE SINGLE SPIN — RANK: C/U]
[COST: 100 SOULS (SALE! — REGULAR: 250)]
[THE DEUCE SPIN — RANK: U/R]
[COST: 250 SOULS (SALE! — REGULAR: 500)]
[THE PREMIUM MULTITUDE — RANK: R/J]
[COST: 500 SOULS (SALE! — REGULAR: 1,000)]
Felix stared at the 100 Souls requirement for the lowest tier, then back at his balance of 94. A twitch started at the corner of his mouth. His gaze shifted to the bottom of the screen:
[INVEST SOULS TO BOOST ODDS?]
[SLIDE TO ADJUST (PERCENTAGE BOOST BASED ON OVER-INVESTMENT TO CHOSEN GACHA)!]
He could sacrifice his hard-earned cash to increase the chance of a higher rank, that was interesting. It still wasn't a guarantee — the pull was still blind after all — but it was a way to bet on himself. Felix drummed his fingers on the table. 94. It was a taunting, ugly number. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to dwell on it as the heavy steps of the owner's boots grew louder as moved towards his booth. Evidently, some of the older customers had paid and left.
She was a massive, multi-eyed brute with skin like cracked asphalt, and she was currently staring at his empty hands where the bill should have been. "Alright, porcelain," she growled, her voice a deep, vibrating rumble. "The burger's gone. Now the cash follows, or I start taking the booth's value out of your hide. Ten coppers."
He had no money to give her — the system had made sure of that — but he had his wits. And he had his dice. "Six coppers?" Felix finally looked up, his eyes clicking into a slow, rhythmic spin. He let a bored smirk spread across his face. "That's a bit mundane, don't you think? Dealing in loose change is so beneath someone of your standing." The owner paused, her six eyes blinking in confusion at his sheer audacity. "The hell are you talking about, kid?" "I'm saying I'm bored," Felix purred, leaning back into the cracked vinyl.
He reached for the leather pouch at his hip and pulled out a pair of ivory dice. "How about a wager? I roll. If it's even, I pay you double. If it's odd... you forget the bill, and you give me six coppers for the entertainment."He held her gaze, acting as if he didn't care if she smashed him into the floor. He needed her greed to outweigh her common sense.
He needed those six souls to hit 100.The owner squinted, her greed visibly fighting her temper. Double the pay for a single roll? It was an easy win. "You've got the cash on you?" "I'm a man of my word," Felix lied easily, his eyes flashing a golden dollar sign symbol for a split second. "So? Do we have a game?"
𓋹
[ACCUMULATED CURRENCY: 104 SOULS]
Seriously, was everyone in hell so naive and gullible? Well, Barnaby wasn't. But this toad-faced owner had been so blinded by the prospect of easy riches that she hadn't even noticed the way the dice had snapped into place.
Felix slid out of the booth, leaving the owner grumbling about "lucky brats."
He stepped out of the diner and back into the red-drenched streets. The 104 Souls felt like a physical fever beneath his skin. It was a familiar, itchy heat — the same one that used to make his fingers twitch when seeing a chance at riches.
He began the trek back to Barnaby's, his elegant 'Overlord' stroll slightly more hurried than before. He kept his reel-pupils sharp, scanning the crowd for one last easy lick to bridge the gap to a boosted pull, but the atmosphere of the street had shifted.
The desperate, bird-brained sinners he'd fleeced earlier were nowhere to be seen. Instead, the sidewalks were dominated by Imps. They moved with a frantic energy that the freshly fallen lacked. Felix watched a group of them haggling over a rusted engine part.
The imps were checking the serial numbers, spat on the metal to check for rust-paint, and kept their tails twitching near their holsters. He approached a lone Imp leaning against a storefront, but before Felix could even open his mouth to offer a wager, the small demon shot him a look of pure, concentrated cynicism.
"Beat it, doll-face," the Imp waved his hand, not even taking the cigar out of his mouth. "I don't play games, and I don't buy whatever you're offering. Go find a Sinner to prank."
Felix pivoted away without a word, his jaw clicking. Interesting, he noted. The Sinners were messy, emotional, and prone to the same stupid vices that had killed them. But the Imps? They were notably different. They were clever — and worse for Felix — they were stingy.
Again, he felt the 104 Souls throb in his vision again. Every second he spent walking was a second he wasn't pulling the lever. The greed was beginning to override his caution; he found himself touching the leather dice pouch, wondering if he should just risk a 100-soul spin right here in the open.
No, he told himself, forcing a breath. He should do it somewhere with more safety and allow for some distraction. He learned that he should never let his guard die in public.
The neon sign for LOANS & GROANS finally flickered into view in the distance, Felix realized he was practically vibrating. He didn't just want to pull the lever. He needed to.
Felix pushed open the heavy iron door of LOANS & GROANS, the familiar chime of the overhead bell cutting through the buzzing in his head. The air inside was thick with the scent of ozone and ancient dust, a stark contrast to the grease-heavy air of the diner.
Behind the counter, Barnaby was hunched over a skeletal-looking typewriter, his tail flicking irritably as he poked at a jammed key with a curious eye. He didn't look up immediately, but his ears twitched.
"Back already?" Barnaby asked, finally glancing up with a look of dry amusement. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his scaly chest. "I figured you'd be a puddle of white paint on some sidewalk by now. What's the matter, doll-face? Hell too loud?"
Although with the occasional explosion, drowning music, and sheer chaos, it was quite exhausting.
However, Felix didn't let the jab rattle him. He maintained his stance. "Quite the opposite, but I realized that wandering aimlessly is a poor use of my time."
Barnaby raised a hairless brow. "Is that so? And what's better then?" He questioned. "I want to work for you," Felix said flatly.
Barnaby paused, a genuine look of confusion crossing his scabby face. "Work for me? Kid, look at you. You're a fresh Sinner. You don't know the difference between a soul and a hole in the head. This isn't a charity ward for brats."
"I'm not asking for charity," Felix replied, stepping closer to the counter. For a brief moment, has eyes wandered around the small store.
He took note of the wild items that were mostly junk, cobweb's and dust nearly everywhere, and a crash register he guessed was empty.
"I'm proposing a good deal.I work for free without a salary letting you keep every single soul that comes through that door." Barnaby squinted all his eyes at once, his tail going still.
He was a demon of the Pride Ring; he was used to traps, lies, and stabs in the back, but the idea of free labor was a curveball. He looked Felix over, noting the slight tremor in the boy's fingers and the way he looked around the shop.
To Barnaby, it was obvious. The kid had tasted the real Hell for a few hours and realized he was at the bottom of the food chain. He wanted walls and a roof.
"Free labor, huh?" Barnaby grunted, a slow, yellow-toothed grin spreading across his face. He was greedy, sure, but he wasn't a total monster — by Hell's standards, anyway. If the kid wanted to dust shelves in exchange for a sense of safety, who was he to say no?
"You're either the smartest brat I've met or the most pathetic. Fine. I won't kick you out, but you break it, you bought it — and I don't take excuses." He reached under the counter and tossed a grimy, oil-stained rag toward Felix's chest, who caught it with an audibly snap from his wrist.
"Start with the 'Human World' shelf in the back. It's covered in ash from the last Extermination. And stay out of my way." "Not a problem."
He turned and made his way toward the dim, cluttered aisles at the back of the shop. As soon as he was shielded by a stack of rusted birdcages and a moth-eaten velvet curtain, he slumped against a shelf, his breath hitching.
[ACCUMULATED CURRENCY: 104 SOULS]
[AVAILABLE: 1x THE SINGLE — RANK: C/U (SALE PRICE: 100 SOULS)]
[4 / 4 SOULS ALLOTTED — 4% LUCK MODIFIER APPLIED!]
[104 SOULS CONSUMED. TOTALING ODDS...]
[COMMENCING: THE SINGLE (BOOSTED!)]
[WOULD YOU LIKE TO COMMENCE A PULL? — Y/N]
Finally.
Felix didn't hesitate before he mentally slammed the [Y] button, and the world of dust and shadows vanished as the reels in his eyes began to spin with a violent, mechanical roar.