Detective Detective could read you better than most.

You did have an idea.

“That’s too bad, Detective. But you’ve got my attention. Ever since I’ve come here, I’ve been welcomed with open hands. I want to help the town however I can. Maybe what you need is a fresh perspective. After all, we all have our biases.”

“Her tongue was sharp, sharper than a mafia boss’s gilded knife. But I’d be a moron to refuse help. I carefully let out a breath of relief. At least she was on my side. I took out some of the dusty folders in my desk, the pus-yellow color reminding me too much of the rotten underbelly of this burgeoning city. ‘Here’s the hotspots of all the disappearances. Please check up on me soon, enough good people have disappeared.’”

You can’t help but chuckle. The poor lady doesn’t know it yet, but you’re going to be the Joker to her Batman. You’re helping each other now…

But once you get a trade route set up, your influence is going to spread like chlamydia at a whorehouse.

“Much appreciated, Detective. I think we’re going to be very well acquainted.” You get on your tiptoes and lean over her desk to reach the folders, giving her a nice view of your cleavage.

You open the manila folders and memorize the general locations of the disappearances.

Leaving the folder, you say your farewells.  Spark is still trailing by you, a worried look on his face.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Spark. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you Quinn?” He nervously rubs his hands together. “Detective has less leads than I thought. I can’t help but feel like there might be more to this.”

Really?

What gave that away?

Was it the exodus of people?

The fact they were all alone without telling anybody where they went?

Or the fact that the deputy’s name literally sounds like TRAITOR FOR RENT!?

If Prillian names show anything, it’s that they’re pretty much an indicator of what they do.

“Hey Spark?”

“Hm?”

You grab him by the hand and slam him into the ground, straddling him. He’s blushing and wincing at the same time as you slowly grind your crotch against his leg. Though he seems more worried about the headlock you’ve got him in.

“I know how to defend myself, so don’t you worry about me. I’m more worried about you.”

Nearby pedestrians blush and look away as you lean down and meet your nose to his.

“Boop.”

He looks confused and his blush disappears.

“Wha…?”

You get off him and lift him to his feet.

“Just proving a point. I’ve been to a lot of places, and a pretty gal like myself should learn how to defend herself. I’m more worried about you.”

“Thanks. I guess I’ll get back to my lunch break.”

“That would be the wisest.” You nod. “Make sure you’re with people you know until I’ve helped Detective figure this out.”

He gives a mock salute and hops on his magic vacuum cleaner. Now to do your thing. You slow down your pace.

Gotta make sure that soul that’s following you keeps their eye on you. Your soulsight has gotten a lot better since the ship. Of course, it’s fucking Tray.

The elf has been following you about ten minutes after you’d left the police station. To her credit, she’s very stealthy. Interesting insight on her soul:

She’s a bitch.

But she’s not an independent person, a follower with the inability to not betray someone. Her soul is stained with the dozens of lives she’s ended. You’ve seen a plethora of souls by this point, and Prillian souls are by far the weirdest. Which is weird, since how can a nationality determine someone’s DESIRE output?

You’re arriving at the center of one of the hotspots and you look around a bit before heading into an alley. As interesting as it would be to hypnotize Tray into doing your bidding, you know nothing about how she acts normally. So, you’re going to test something from your dark magic repertoire.

Shadow immersion.

Contrary to what pop culture would have you believe, you can’t control people from their shadow. That’s dumb, how can you control people from a lack of light on a surface?

But you can pop into people’ shadows.

You meld into the shadows and wait. Surely enough, Tray follows you in, a sneaky smile on her face. That quickly falls when she thinks she’s alone. While she’s stomping around angrily, you slip into her shadow.

Pretty easy in a shadowy alley. She seems to have realized that I could have climbed out. As her shadow, you don’t have to move at all. She practically carries you through the city at a brisk pace. You take care to not smile or open your eyes too widely. Apparently, those can be seen on the shadow.

You’re carried across Hacksonville until you reach the government building.

Of course.

She enters and goes directly into the big office. In there, a dwarven woman with curly red hair sits as she reads over piles of papers. A wide assortment of mechanical doodads move rhythmically on her desk.

“Mayor Rampant Corruption!”

…

Why can’t they have normal names? Like ones that mean things in different languages like literally everybody else.

“Yes, Traitorfor Rent?”

No comment. Trying very hard not to comment.

“There’s a goblin who’s got a lead on us. And I think she may know more than Detective Detective.”

“Ugh, goblins.” Corruption takes off her gold-rimmed glasses and rubs her head. “Miserable little greenskins. Just what I need right now. Describe her.”

“She goes by Quinn. She’s a …shapely goblin with a pitch-black hair, green eyes, and big pointy ears. Very attractive, for her kind. She is too clever. She’s from outside Prillia. From what I can tell, she got everything she needed from Detective, and went to the exact center of our largest hotspot. When I followed her into an alley, she had flown the coop. She knew she was being followed.”

“Moron!”  Rampant Corruption slams a meaty fist on her mahogany desk, shaking the crystal bottle set on her table.“She probably suspects you! I’ll pass the word down to the others to capture her. Hopefully, I’ll be able to make any reports disappear. You’ll have to make the shipment tonight; I’ve got things to do because of your ineptitude.”

Traitorfor leaves. You take the opportunity to slip into one of the many shadows in the room. It’s like a fucking mafia movie in here, the only light is coming from two candles propped onto an intricate set of silver candlesticks.

So, Jean Valjean.

Are you ready to meet your Javert?

You wait a few minutes as Corruption writes a few letters. The flickering candlelight gives you little place to move. You can move only in sparse moments, and you can use more shadow magic to make a distraction. At just the right moment, you slip under the door, fire a bolt from the shade, and return to the room.

KRACK!

“Eeeeeeeeek!” Corruption picks up a repeating crossbow from beneath her desk and rushes outside.

You walk out of the shadows and stand in front of the door. You magic up a pen and parchment. You’re about to make a deal. After a few minutes of loud discussion, Corruption walks back inside. She manages to miss you by the door until she sits down. Her eyes widen and you give your best innocent smile.

Roll for initiative!

2!

Roll to seduce the dice!

20, plus 20 modifier!

You get a nat 21 instead of a 2!

Before Corruption even considers leveling her crossbow to you, you speak.

“Mayor! I’ve got credible information from a still-living source that the recent disappearances are linked to very important people! I’ve come to warn you, since you’re at the very top. The very men who guard you may even be in their pockets!” The tension leaves her, and her crossbow is hidden once more. She seems especially interested about the ‘credible, still-living source’.

“That does seem troubling. Why haven’t you reported this to the police?”

“I’m sorry ma’am,” You shake your head, “but they seem to be compromised. I think Detective Detective sent Tray Torrent to spy on me. Something’s really iffy, and my source and I need some protection if we’re to bust this case open.”

“Where is your source now? I can send some people to protect them.”

You step forwards and shake your head wildly.

“No, I can’t say. There may be listening spells in here, and those you send may be under somebody else’s payroll. I need concrete proof that you’ll protect us. A contract, so paper-pushers up in Camelot will notice if anything happens to my source, you, or I.”

She barely manages to stop herself from gritting her teeth, but nods.

“Perfect! I’ve got a paper ready! So, first condition: Mayor of Hacksonville, Rampant Corruption, must devote resources to protecting Quinn and her source of information, using reliable means, without exposing them to danger. In exchange, Quinn will expose the case directly to Mayor Rampant Corruption.”

Simple enough, right? But she frowns nonetheless, probably because how it seems to benefit her the most. There isn’t even mention about bringing the perpetrators to justice. Because that would imply that you would have to take the proper channels.

But most importantly…

“Sure, fine.” She signs it, and drops it into a drawer.

“There you go. Now go tell your source. I’ll be waiting…eagerly.”

The smile is a tad too evil, but it seems like she’d fallen into your trap. You flutter your eyes and with voice choking with faux-emotion…

“Thank you so much, Mayor. With your help, this city will gain some much-needed order.” She has no idea how true that statement is.

You go out and start counting down the seconds.

“Five, six, seven…”

You wave to the confused receptionist and walk out.

“Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two…”

You’re on the street, a spring in your step.

“Thirty—”

Ooh!

A dark purple flame popped into existence right next to you. That must be some sort of record. Thirty seconds on the dot to break a contract. You find another nondescript dark alley and teleport into Haven. You’ve learned this time that there’s a particular way to consume a soul without having to give birth to a shoggoth.

…

That does make you sound pretty evil.

But come on!

Her soul is crappy! Nobody else would have wanted it. And yeah, you may be influenced by Lucy… But souls do hold a lot of power.

Just gotta prepare ‘em.

You sit down in your chair and observe the soul. You pull out a few important parts of Rampant’s soul.

First, bureaucracy.

You pull a sliver of the purple flame -ball and fling it towards your head.

Aaaaaaand that’s just a lot of information on how to embezzle and make under-the-table deals.

How about Prillian culture? You’ve been on the back foot for a lot of their silliness. You shiver with anticipation—

Aaaaaaaand what the fuck.

What the hell is up with Prillia?

Sure, magic is neat and all, and you understand that there’s bound to be some changes from universe to universe. So you can accept the god-like being that moves the sun and moon and seems to be a bit partial to her own country. And you can accept that Prillia can be a bit isolated, so demons are completely unheard of.

But their idea on love and sex…Honestly, what the fuck.

Masturbation is illegal.

So that’s creepy and wrong on its own.

Same-sex couples and even swinging is completely foreign; either unheard of or outright reviled. ’Lewd’ displays such as kissing and hand-holding are for special occasions, such as during weddings and Hearts Day.

Sex has one position, during one part of the year, with a single person, for life.

None of them really question it. It’s just seen as a thing to do to procreate between loving couples. This can’t compute with you. Something has to be wrong, right? All of this gives an uncanny valley vibe. Why does this seem to only work for those in Prillia, rather than the few elves and goblins you’ve seen outside? They have violence, they have murder…but sex? It’s funky.

It’s like a fucking bizzaro country.

One last thing.

You pull out memories of the situation in Hacksonville.

You could work with this. From what Corruption knew, there’s two budding gangs. One is backed by the mayor, who is backed by a noble in Camelot. The other is backed by an old mafia family that’s trying to set their sights on Hacksonville.

There is no conflict between the two. Yet.

In a couple years, or even months, Hacksonville would have been a powder keg ready to blow. But now, you’ve got a fruit of opportunity ripe for the picking. As for the disappearances, even Corruption doesn’t know the full story.

She is indeed responsible for kidnapping people. But that’s only because she gets paid with mithril and adamantium at the exchanges. This whole thing has been set up by her sponsor. Funny that Prillians should have such childish concepts on sex would be totally okay with abduction. Well, not okay…but if criminals even think handholding isn’t something that should be done too much in public. The grinding you did on Spark earlier might as well have been domestic terrorism.

Thankfully, you can stop it. The abductions, you mean.

The grinding stays.

You know, bring balance to your karma by releasing a bunch of prisoners. And you can’t help but feel as if Aevum has his finger deep in this creampie.

First things first.

You may know where the prisoners are, but you’ve got a useful pawn now. Might as well use her. Your consciousness is split into three.

You pick your face off your desk and look around.

Yup, this is Corruption’s office. On the desk is a paper detailing to follow you.

Ha!

You tear it up. And just to be sure, you eat all the pieces.

Mmmmmm.

Not dusty, but papery and inky.

Now to prepare. You giggle evillyadorably as you look at Corruption’s total funds. Namely the fact you have enough money to create a gate. You fill out the forms for the buying of the materials and the construction of a ring comprised of the necessary materials, writing it under an ‘communal benefit’.

Of course, this won’t go unseen, so you decide to commission an artist to make a hollow statue made of iron, cobalt, and obsidian in a park, using a bit extra of Corruption’s personal profits. You’ve ended up spending nearly forty percent more just to keep it under wraps, but at least you can hide it by doing something more scandalous.

Like buying a newspaper company.

Apparently, it’s illegal for political figures in Prillia to own any part of the media. Good on you. Corruption will inevitably get kicked out of office, but as the city grows, the more official legislation will come from Camelot directly. Best to get fired on some smaller thing now than getting completely uncovered by the capital in all the illegal activities Rampant has been doing.

There’s a good chance the noble will intervene, but Corruption is more disposable than Rusty. You sign all the papers as Rampant Corruption and a smug smile grows on your face. You set her in a sort of automatic mode that requires little attention from you and leave her be. She’ll act like a soulless drone, but then again, she’s a politician.

Nobody will notice.

Back in your own body, you take the dimmer soul to the console and read over the entry on WikiHell again.

“Hmmm. A soul juicer? What the…”

Sure enough, you can get it on the console. Spawning it in, it just looks like a strange orange juicer, except with a clear pipe that leads down into the blending part. You drop the soul in, and the rotor spins as the soul is worn down into a fine paste.

Somehow.

And is that screaming you hear?

Eh, probably nothing.

It’s going to take some time, so you leave Haven for Prillia. You’re back, as innocent-looking as ever. You head towards the compound where they’re keeping the next shipment of victims. It’s in a zone that’s still under construction. But it seems like nothing has changed here for some time.

Probably intentionally, to keep these activities out of the public eye. Using soulsight, you find about ten guards and twenty prisoners there. Traitorfor Rent is there, looking over some numbers. Time to cause a bit of property damage.

You cup your hands together. You’ve always wanted to do this. Concentrating your magic, you speak.

“Kame…”

“What was that?” Someone says from the other side of the wall.

A ball of black magic forms in between your hands and you clench it closer together as you force more magic in your grasp.

“Hame…”

“It’s coming from outside.” Somebody else realizes.

“HOOOOOOOOOOOOE!”

A beam of black energy flies down the street and into a building.

BOOOOOM!

Debris rains down from the hole in the building as some of the floors collapse on themselves, sending a plume of smoke in the air.

“Sweet sarsaparilla! That building over there exploded!”

“How distracting. Let’s go check it out!”