Back in your own body.

You’re still on the computer, reading through entries on WikiHell. There is so much information. Clauses and rules and limitations. No wonder heroes always have a lot of time to stop the big bad. Of course, you bet the inverse is true as well. Divine intervention can only go so far and Deus Ex Machina doesn’t apply to real life as much as you’d like.

But as for these rules…

They’re made to be used and exploited. Which is why you’re looking over the demon summoning circles.

Apparently, from where you are, you can determine what the summoning circles look like. But again, there’s a bunch of rules. They’re mostly in place to protect you. As much as you’d like to follow the recommended settings, nobody really knows about you or your demons.

And the best way to get DESIRE is through others’ knowledge of you. So instead of the needlessly complicated summoning ritual that would make it even harder for people to do it in secret…You give it a basic shape and conditions. There’s another reason you need to do this.

You need demon blood to activate the door. And you’d prefer to use yours.

You’ll summon an imp as Rusty to give yourself a vial of your own blood. You lean back and sigh. But if you make a vial here, it’ll just disappear once the imp ends up outside.

Only inhabitants and their byproducts could leave Haven. From what you can tell, DESIRE is being drained from you slowly to make the life your console brought into being more ‘real’.

So, you’re stuck here until everything stabilizes. Or until you give birth, whatever comes last. You pat your beach-ball sized abdomen and coo. You’re feeling horny at the sight of yourself, leaking from your nipples and snatch. You’ve haven’t bothered to put clothes on after the fogholes, letting the semen dry on your skin.

‘Used broodwhore’ is a good look on you. Just the sight of you in that mirror makes you want to ravish yourself with a massive dildo.

But not now. You sigh. There’s still a lot of work to be done. You levitate one of your extra Chanam gems to you and start scratching at it with a fingernail.

Rubies don’t stand a chance to demon fingernails. You collect the dust as you carve the vial from the precious gem.

…

This going to take some time.

You wake up. It’s odd that you were asleep and awake at the same time. But it’s been eight hours and you’re only halfway done with the second ruby vial. At least now you’re a lot less bored, walking around the streets of Nancy’s, sunglasses on your face as the late morning breeze carries in the smell of the sea below.

While the hotter you is agonizing on vial plugs, the other is happily eating a skewer. Best part? You can actually taste it! No wonder demons love possessing mortals!

You moan, almost lewdly, as you stuff more meat in your mouth.

People are giving you strange looks, except for a few weary harpies who haven’t tasted meat for days.  You stuff that meat down your gullet and make your way to the trading district.

*Dling-dling*

Amazing how some things that were so familiar back when you were human could now elicit such joy. There’s the clicking of abacuses, and the scribbling of feathers on parchment as species ranging from harpies to a few sparse goblins work in the hubbub.

“Hello!”

A minotaur in a maroon suit, black tie, and monocle strides over to you. You immediately decide he’s a good person because you like his style. Except he wears too much red.

You’re not one to talk, considering. Green is best color.

“Howdy! This is Buff Bill’s trading house?”

“You got that right!” The minotaur says as he mimes snapping some suspenders. “And I’m the big man himself. Nice to finally meet you, Rumplestiltskin.”

News travels fast.

“How do you know my name?” You play dumb.

“You can’t expect to beat the House at their own games without making a name for yourself. Casinos won’t keep you out until they figure out how you cheated, despite their…abilities. You’ve attracted a lot of wandering eyes.”

There’s really no doubt the casinos themselves weren’t cheating. The expression is ‘House always wins.’ You’re decently sure when it comes to gambling, the devil’s only lost once.

And that was more of a contest of sorts.

“I was just on a very lucky streak. And I was smart enough to mask my expressions.” You puff up your feathers in pride.

Bill’s massive eyebrows furl together like two fuzzy caterpillars boning. He leans in close to your face and inhales deeply. You briefly entertain the thought of jumping his bones right there.

“Well, those aren’t magical glasses. I’m stumped. But honestly, I couldn’t give a rat’s chode about whether or not you cheated.” A winning smile blooms on his face. “All I want is that money. And the fact you’re coming to me shows you need something from me. So, when the Fingers found you in the market district, a lot of us jumped at the opportunity.”

You can see a few damp spots underneath his armpits. He seems really eager for you to buy from him.

And these Fingers… Probably freelance spies.

It doesn’t really matter if they find out where you live now. You’re going to spend everything here, so there’s no chance you get robbed.

“What’s your poison? Other than your name, we couldn’t seem to dig up anything on you. You looking for alcohol? Drugs? Ships? Weapons?”

He’s going to be really fucking confused.

“I’m mostly looking for 18.49 tons of iron, 20.92 tons of cobalt, and 6.11 tons of obsidian.”

The scratching of quills and ticking of abacuses stop as the eavesdroppers turn towards you in astonishment. Bill’s monocle slowly slides off his face.

…

“Hrgrm. Bean Counter! How much would all of that cost?”

Bill turns around to a elf who starts messing with his abacus and scribbling at the same time.

“I’m..I’m sorry about that. We very rarely get a customer who knows exactly how much they want, and so much of it. I’m not sure you’ll even be able to pay for all of this. We definitely don’t have all of this in stock.”

You shrug.

“I’m still allowed in casinos. I think I’ll manage.”

“S-sir.  Your order is over ten million.”

There’s a massive commotion and you let out a low whistle. There go most of your winnings. You pick out a few platinum coins and the other coins and pass them to Bill without hesitating. He eagerly takes the coins.

“Expect all of it to get to you within the week. Nobody’s using cobalt, so we’ll trade some of our goods for some, and shipments of iron and obsidian are coming soon.”

You’ve got a little over 1.5 million silver now.

“Do I get a receipt or something? You can deliver it whenever. I’m sure you’ll figure out the address by the end of the day.”

Bill nods dumbly and takes out a parchment, writes something down, and dips some hot wax on it before pressing down with a seal.

“I’ll keep my promise, but if I don’t you can bring this to the Court.”

“How do I know if it’s a fake?”

“It’s not. It’s enchanted. And even if I were to steal your money, they have shaman at the Court, and I’d like to retain my image as an honest seller of illegal goods, as you can see from my whole two hands.”  He wiggles his fingers.

“Also, would you happen to know where I can recruit some whores? I plan on opening a house of pleasure.”

Buff Bill rubs his fingers against his temple.

“Red light district’s Madame Baiser’s Salon. What does iron, cobalt and obsidian have to do with opening a brothel?”

“Well, obsidian is used to make sex toys.” You wave and walk out.

You walk out and—Grougilllli~

Find a bathroom. Those kebabs did not agree with you.