Chapter Text
You really shouldn’t be here. You know it too. Especially with Sylus halfway across the world.
But crime never sleeps, nor does the N109 zone.
You’re currently about 300 feet under the city center of one of the most crime-ridden cities in the world.
Following a tip to the association, you found yourself at a high-profile auction—alone. You knew Sylus wouldn’t particularly approve of your little escapade, so you’ve decided to omit that information from your daily talks, settling for the more mundane business of a deep space hunter.
And you’re starting to realize you really, really shouldn’t be here.
The auction has yet to progress to the more sought-after items—but you have yet to make a single bid.
In this ornate, dim room, eyes are slowly starting to settle on you. A woman never seen before at a highly illegal auction not making any moves is sure to bring attention. Dangerous attention. Women and men in dark suits that smell of cigars cast subtle glances towards you with every skipped item.
You are just here to see what the sellers truly have in their possession. According to the tip, it should be a highly illegal weapon, created to take down S-class wanderers but only produced for a short amount of time before it was pulled from the market. Too deadly.
You can’t wait any longer. You have to make a bid to avoid suspicion.
You settle on the next item called—a beautiful set of fancy pink diamond drop earrings surrounded by smaller white diamonds. Expensive and sought after enough to avoid suspicion, but not so expensive that it would cause half of the continent to go into debt.
But, of course, the hunters association sent you here with limited cash. $20,000, to be exact. Did they think this was a garage sale? You’ve only got about half of the starting price. You don’t have a choice.
You need a…loan…
Luckily for you, you happen to be sharing a bed with a man that possesses a suspicious amount of money.
You slip into a quiet corner of the smoke-filled auction hall and pull out your phone. You feel a bit guilty asking him for money like this. You don’t want him to feel as though you’re taking advantage of him.
You text a simple “hey.”
You don’t even have to blink before he responds with a simple “yes?”
Your thumbs hover above your phone, wondering how to ask for such an amount of money.
“I kind of need a loan…”
“Oh?”
“Like…$40,000 :)”
“Well, pink diamonds are quite beautiful, I will admit.”
“Huh??”
Of course he knew where you were. Of course he knew exactly what you needed money for. Of course. You took another glance around the room, checking if anyone was paying a bit too much attention to you.
“How do you know where I am?” You typed.
“How could I not? Your safety is of great importance.” He responded.
One of your hands drops from your phone. Sometimes you forgot just how much power Sylus held over this city.
As you were thinking over your life decisions, considering if you could ever truly disappear if you wanted to, your phone buzzed with a notification.
*Good news! SKYE PHISTO sent you $350,000.00*
Sylus—generous as ever.
“That’s like way more than I asked for,” you typed.
“Pocket change, my love.”
You could almost see his alluring little smirk through the screen.
Yes, of course, $310,000 was pocket change.
You couldn’t even think of what to respond to that, so you quickly clicked off your phone and tried not to think about just where that money came from. You’ll choose to believe it’s solely from his fruit business.
You ended up winning the earrings easily, clearing yourself of suspicion. As you were eagerly awaiting the reveal of the last and most precious item, your phone buzzed again. A message from lil s
Sylus’ message is short: “I look forward to seeing those earrings on you when I get home. They suit you.”
Ugh, he is just as charming as he is powerful. It’s hard not to be weak to him.
Unfortunately, the tip ended up being a bust. The final item was a high-grade protocore. Still not legal, but not as high of a concern. Some wrinkly man bought it for an amount of money you were too shocked to remember. You came across protocores like that every now and then; it was not nearly as rare as it was made out to be. The ultra-rich were too careless with their money, you thought.
You took the elevator out of the auction hall feeling defeated. You were actually quite excited to get a look at the weapon. You suppose Sylus is starting to rub off on you.
As you exit the front of the building—appearing as a dilapidated building—you jump at the feeling of two little claws landing on your shoulder.
“Cawwww,” Mephisto sounds, much too close to your ear. Ever the dedicated henchman. Henchcrow? He would surely be offended if he heard you describe him with either of those words.
“What are you doing here?” You say, walking to your motorcycle and staring directly into Mephisto’s beady little eyes.
“Caw Cawww,” Mephisto responds. Your phone chimes again. Sylus, of course.
“He heard about your purchase.” Typed Sylus. “You know he likes shiny things.” He adds.
“You’re not even a real bird!” You say aloud, settling yourself on the seat of your bike. Mephisto somehow manages to make an offended face.
“Well, you know the rules, Mephisto,” you say, “You can’t take anything over 3 carats to your hoard!” You tap on his beak to accentuate your point.
“CAWWW!”
“Hey, I didn’t make the rule! Bring it up with your creator!” You said, flinging your hand towards the incensed little bird.
“Don’t bring me into this,” texted Sylus.
“I’ll see you at home. Don’t get killed.” You responded.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetie.”
With that, you pushed your phone into your pocket and rode home—already giddy for Sylus’ return.