Chapter 22: The Art of the Deal

  "Watch where you're going!"

  "Why are you pushing?"

  Aldona and Justinian had to shove their way through dense crowds of hostile devils to reach the place where Franciscus's scream had come from. The sight that greeted them was absurd.

  "...that's when he attacked us."

  "Mhm, anything else?" a local city guard in an orange armband noted down the testimony of a typical twenty-year-old thug.

  Nearby stood two other similar-looking ruffians, who were clearly feigning confusion. Right next to them, pinned to the ground by four other guards in armbands, was the restrained little devil, Franciscus.

  "Don't move or we'll strike you with lightning!" one of them, clearly supervising the process, warned menacingly.

  The restrained twelve-year-old's range of motion was limited to breathing, and not particularly deep breaths at that, lest he be planning any strange tricks.

  "He's resisting!" one of the guards shouted when the child took a minimally too-deep breath.

  This caused the others to draw wooden clubs, ready to beat him until he calmed down. It was then that Justinian stepped onto the scene.

  "What the hell is going on here?!" he roared, disbelieving the absurdity of what he was seeing.

  The guards stopped, surprised. The one writing down the thug's account stopped asking questions, and the crowd gasped in terror.

  "Who is this human?!"

  "How dare he interrupt the work of our city guard?!"

  "Isn't he afraid of angering the Orange Prince?!"

  The thugs also didn't like the way he had entered the scene, but they said nothing, merely casting a suggestive glance at the city guards. The devils in orange armbands looked at each other and, with a few blinks, established their next course of action.

  "This is the arrest of a dangerous criminal," the devil who had been taking notes finally said.

  His voice, despite his attempt to maintain some authority and reluctance, was also full of respect. After all, he himself was at the first level of Ki gathering, and he could clearly see three marks on the wrist of the human who had interrupted him.

  In hell, where strength was all that mattered, he couldn't risk offending someone more powerful—especially since human cultivators were almost unheard of and must have had incredible connections to succeed.

  Justinian looked at him as if he didn't understand what the devil was explaining.

  "Is this some kind of joke?! This child can't even move and is barely breathing! What kind of dangerous criminal is he?!" he asked with anger in his voice, clearly unwilling to resolve the matter amicably.

  This was a problem for the guards, who began to get a little stressed—on the one hand, they couldn't be too defiant here; on the other, getting on the Orange Prince's bad side was also not an option.

  Sweat began to trickle down the brow of the note-taker from this intense thinking. After a glance at his confounded colleagues, he finally gritted his teeth and nodded at them, signaling for them to release Franciscus.

  "Our sincerest apologies, but we have gathered a great deal of incriminating evidence and must investigate the matter. We promise nothing will happen to him in our custody."

  Justinian was still not convinced, but he saw the hostile glares from the crowd and guessed that this additional pressure was also influencing the guards' current attitude. After an understanding look with Aldona, he sighed lightly and nodded. They had to get to the bottom of the matter first.

  The guard noticed his decision and breathed a sigh of relief. However, it irritated him that the gathered commoners had to see his frightened face, so he snapped at them to disperse.

  "What are you all staring at?! Don't you have any work to do? Scram, now!"

  Shortly after, the guards left, leading the young devil to the jail.

  "What actually happened there?" Justinian asked a pair of old, worn-out devils who were discussing the arrest amongst themselves.

  The male devil, with red skin and large horns, gave his partner a warning look, but she just waved her hand.

  "What do you think happened?" she asked in a hoarse voice. "The same thing that always happens when the youth have nothing to do, that's what!"

  She was clearly choosing her words very carefully, lest a much more critical view accidentally slip out.

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  "The poor child just wanted to play poet, and those hooligans immediately started demanding a fee from him for contemplating poetry in a place of inspiration!" she explained, spitting on the rotten customs. "Once, no one would have thought of such a disgrace for our city, and now?" She waved her hand again, showing she was fed up with it all, and set off with her husband on their way home.

  Justinian, meanwhile, suspiciously examined the spot where Franciscus had been arrested.

  'A few old boxes holding even older dust. There's really nothing interesting here...' he thought, shaking his head, before he was suddenly forced to revise his opinion.

  Beneath one of the boxes, he noticed a carefully hidden, yet practically invisible at first glance, element designed to cause unexpected chaos.

  This element was a small, miniature plaque with nearly illegible writing, on which the following was engraved:

  "This area is the property of the Orange Prince. Seeking inspiration here is forbidden without payment of the appropriate tariff in the amount of 1000 infernal dollars."

  Considering its placement, it was clear to Justinian that the sign had been intentionally made practically invisible to the standard devil, in order to later trap them with ridiculously high fees.

  'Is this some kind of joke?' his expression seemed to say, which shifted from analyzing the turn of events to outrage at the audacity of Franciscus's arrest.

  However, regardless of how absurd the methods used were and what was happening in this city, there was no doubt that this Orange Prince was at the very center of the storm of events that had struck the human.

  When Aldona noticed what Justinian was staring at, she sighed heavily.

  "Damn peasants from the Mountain of Swamps and Darkness. This is their typical work."

  "Hmm?" the boy asked, quite surprised by such a sudden generalization.

  The noblewoman shook her head in embarrassment.

  "The previous ruler of the Mountain, Rokita the elder, was known for his rotten, scheming character. Traps, deception, and trade negotiations were his domain, which, by the way, was also reflected in his adepts—only the brutal strength of Maleficius ended his reign."

  "So this Shedim Medaiash?"

  "I've never met him personally, but we must prepare for the fact that negotiations for Franciscus's release may be difficult."

  Justinian thought for a moment and made a decision.

  "Whatever they are, they can't wait. We have to help Franciscus with this idiotic situation."

  Aldona nodded and clenched her fists. The next objective for the two adepts was to go to the jail to clarify the matter.

  As they expected, from the jail they were directed straight to the villa of the Orange Prince. It was a magnificent residence where the former representative adept of the Mountain of Swamps and Darkness received important figures. Arranging a visit with the devil went very smoothly, and soon after their arrival, they were directed to his guest hall.

  'Are those... used paint cans?' Justinian wondered, seeing servants wheeling a wooden cart full of used containers with orange, dried-up gunk.

  'I must have misunderstood something...' he finally shook his head, unable to solve the strange puzzle.

  As fate would have it, he didn't have to wait long for the solution to be served to him on a platter. For right after entering the Prince's guest hall, an absurd sight met the two visitors' eyes.

  "You are the most magnificent and brilliant devil-entrepreneur that has ever existed! You should be given an award for it!" a merchant in tattered robes, typical of the stall vendors from earlier, groveled before the being sitting on the throne.

  The being on the throne, with a serious expression but also a certain self-satisfaction, nodded as if confirming it was obvious.

  "I have already sent a petition to the city council to organize such a contest and name it after you!" the merchant persisted, not noticing that someone had entered.

  The being laughed heartily and patted the merchant on the back.

  "You are a very good devil, one of the best I know. Did you say you can't expand your business because of the tariffs?"

  The man, shedding a tear, nodded.

  "In that case, you must receive a tariff exemption for a short period..." The seated being began to ponder, as if searching for a good idea. "Perhaps ten years to start?"

  The merchant gasped in delight, then began to bow and once again repeat all the flatteries he had used before. As soon as he had the exemption slip in his hands, he vanished from the hall as if afraid the Orange Prince might change his mind.

  The entire scene was observed by Justinian, who couldn't believe the image his eyes were presenting him.

  'It can't be this simple, can it?' he thought.

  It was then that the Orange Prince's gaze fell upon him. It was a surprisingly intense gaze, quite unfriendly and... yet somehow containing a bit of respect?

  The being sitting on the throne was a devil with a uniquely specific skin color. While in the 66th hellish dimension devils most often had some shade of red, here the color was so light that it was practically orange. His hair—surprisingly thick—was also this color, and the rest of his physiology was more or less like that of an average inhabitant of the dimension.

  "And what famous personage has visited my humble abode?" the Prince asked, greeting Justinian.

  He could only offer a modest smile and, despite his anger over the situation with Franciscus, strike a similar tone.

  "I am but a simple representative adept; where do I compare to the splendor of the Orange Prince?"

  The devil on the throne smiled with satisfaction upon hearing this jest, as if a simple stroking of his ego was truly important to him.

  "Ah, modesty, modesty—that's not the devil's way!" he replied, wagging a finger, though his tone was much friendlier than before. "But don't worry, I was once a representative adept myself, and I know what it's like."

  "Really?" Justinian feigned surprise, seeing that the infernal fiend, with a dreamy look in his eyes as if longing for distant times, clearly wanted to share this story.

  "But of course!" the Prince, excited, casually—as if by accident—twirled his wrist, on which five marks of Ki gathering were visible. "They told me I was the best of them all!"

  The young man glanced at Aldona, who listened to this boast with disbelief, and he guessed how much truth there was in that statement.

  "In that case, with double the sorrow, I offer my condolences regarding the attack by Maleficius."

  The Orange Prince almost jumped upon hearing the name of the devil he hated, who had taken all his honors away. However, he didn't want to show this side to the newcomers, so he quickly ended the topic.

  "Indeed, it is a sad situation," he said, almost through clenched teeth. "But this is certainly not the end. Along with some of my faithful adepts, we will fight to make the Mountain of Swamps and Darkness great again!"

  'It would certainly be better for the local inhabitants if you did that outside their land...' Justinian commented in his thoughts.

  "But enough about the Mountain! Tell me, my dear fellow representative adept, what brings you here?"

  Justinian took a deep breath. Franciscus's arrest was an absolute farce to him, and he couldn't rule out that it wasn't a planned trap.

  "Our friend, the honorable Franciscus de Deviliare, was arrested by mistake by the local guards," he finally began. "We wish to clear up this misunderstanding and ensure that he is safe—especially since his uncle is due to arrive in the dimension soon."

  The Orange Prince didn't seem particularly interested—he looked as if he hadn't heard anything about the matter before. He slowly weighed all the arguments for and against and smiled at Justinian.

  "In that case, let's make a deal."