A middle-aged woman wandered into an office that didn't match one of a town mayor but rather a runaway noble with an unusual habit of collecting anything expensive looking. She glanced around with strained curiosity at the various paintings, sculptures, artefacts and even noble style clothes; her eyes then lingered on an open chest overflowing with mana stones and coins with longing before she finally met the eyes of the room's other occupant.

Damien coldly appraised Mary. 'Average face and body. Slight wrinkles appear on the face suggesting middle age. Unfortunately, I don't recognise her from the game, meaning she is a generic NPC.'

Mary shifted uncomfortably close to the sofa; as a simple farm girl, she was oblivious to noble and mage etiquette; one wrong move could spell her end, and she wished to survive this meeting.

Damien motioned towards the sofa, "Relax, Mary of Blackthorn; take a seat, and we can begin our conversation."

Mary looked at the brown leather couch with a hesitant look before carefully perching herself right on the edge as if afraid to dirty it.

Damien leaned back and clasped his hands together, "I assume you are here for the Project Angel Tears job?"

Mary slowly nodded while staring at the stone slab in her hand.

[Project Angel Tears]

Requirements: Soul Contract with Duke Nightshade

Description: ??? Meet the Duke at the Mayor's residence for details.

Pay: 10 silver a week

Punishment: Death

Damien continued, "And you know it requires a soul contract? That means your soul will be bound to mine. Therefore, I can kill you instantly from any distance and inflict pain upon your soul. Furthermore, if I perish, so will you. Do you understand?"

Mary hesitated as if questioning her foolishness but answered politely, "I understand the implications Duke Nightshade... So what are the details of the job?"

Damien stopped leaning back in his comfortable chair and eyed Mary with a newfound interest, "Why?"

Mary fumbled the stone slab slightly in surprise, "I'm sorry, Duke! That question was out of line... I um..."

"Relax, I just wish to know why you would be willing to go so far; I offered plenty of other jobs that anyone with any skillset could complete with decent pay." Damien looked out the window at the rain before continuing, "I have many enemies, Mary; please understand that I must ask some potentially personal and insensitive questions."

Damien turned his cold gaze back to Mary, "So I ask once more... Why? Why this job? Are you a spy? Do you have a hidden agenda?"

Mary's face flushed under the scrutiny, "Erm... Duke Nightshade, you may not believe me, but this is all Randy's doing... maybe I rushed things..."

Damien gestured towards the door, "Mary, the door is always open; you are free to leave. You are under no pressure to remain here. However, if you wish to acquire the job, I implore you to answer my question honestly."

"Okay, okay, dam it, this is embarrassing." Mary took a moment to sit further back on the sofa, showing her improving sense of comfort in Damien's presence, "You only arrived recently, and my Father has been retired for over a year now... but he was once known as the Hero of Blackthorn."

Mary took a deep breath to calm her nerves, "I love my Father, I do... but living in his shadow my entire life has been... hard." Mary looked into Damien's eyes, "Honestly, I'm bored to death. Ever since my injury while escaping bandits, " She lifted the tattered sleeve of her peasant clothing, revealing a long scar running along her right arm, "I cannot hold a hammer and, therefore, will never follow in my Father's footsteps. Much to his and everyone's disappointment." Mary then demonstrated her hand's inability to make a fist by flexing her hand.

She then shifted further back into her seat as Damien remained silent, "I spoke to Randy, and he has a high opinion of you, and I always trusted Randy's judgement on things... he's a smart kid, always has been. You picked a capable person to manage the guild."

"So you ask why? Well, Randy sold me a dream, one I wish to achieve. However, I do not know the job's specifics, making it more exciting. I'll be honest; I wish to stand beside you, Duke Nightshade; ever since I felt your Magic's warm embrace that saved me from a certain crippling accident, I know I cannot return to my farming life. I need to experience Magic for myself..."

Damien raised an eyebrow while passively using telepathy to confirm the validity of all her claims, "You wish to learn magic?"

Mary vigorously nodded, "My Father can use Magic. I heard Magic is a bloodline thing; I was training to hopefully learn enchanting in the future, much like my Father, but with my injury and my mana circuit never manifesting..." Mary shook her head, "I fear I cannot learn independently; I need some guidance."

Damien slowly stood up and paced the room, "Well done, Mary, of Blackthorn. I am impressed; yes, this is a much better arrangement."

Damien walked over to the chest overflowing with mana stones and coins, "Money is fickle and worthless in the grand scheme of things. It is impossible to purchase absolute loyalty, but instead, I must earn your loyalty."

Damien swivelled on his heel and eyed Mary, "You wish to cure your bordem, feel valued, respected, and also want to learn Magic. These are your terms?"

Mary pondered, "These terms seem reasonable; I also wish to earn some money, a woman needs to buy some things, and I have some debts to pay."

"Have you ever heard of the term shares?" Damien asked while moving his cane from one hand to the other.

"Shares?" Mary tilted her head, "No, I don't think I have..."

"If you accept my proposition and terms, I plan to make you one of the heads of my new department. Earning a measly ten silver a week may seem substantial in the current economy, but I believe you deserve higher pay for such an important role, assuming you live up to my expectations." A dangerous glint passed through Damien's eyes, "I don't take kindly to slackers or betrayers."

Mary gulped as she remembered who she was talking to.

Damien paid her discomfort no heed and continued, "Shares means you own a share of something, such as a slice of pie. Let's say I give you a one percent share of the new department's earnings. If it earns a hundred gold, you will receive one gold. But on the other hand, if it only earns a hundred silvers, you will earn a single silver."

Mary was confused: "I never learned to read properly, nor do maths, but I understand the idea... basically, I earn more the better the department does?"

Damien agreed, "Indeed, Mary, this way, you are motivated by money to better the department rather than accept your monthly payments. Also, do not fear, I have a way to teach you maths quickly... you will need it."

Damien then walked over to Mary and stood before her, "Mary of Blackthorn, the previous terms alongside a one percent share in your future department. Are these terms acceptable? If so, then I shall begin the soul contract."

Mary finally had a smile on her face, "To learn Magic from a Master Mage, escape my Father's shadow, and become someone important while making money? Sounds good to me!"

"Very well, do not resist my soul..." Damien reached out and placed his gloved hand on Mary's forehead.

Within Mary's sea of consciousness, an enormous ball of light that threatened to block out the sky materialised; a thick chain of gold fired out and wrapped Mary's soul that flickered like a dying candle compared to Damiens sun like soul.

Mary shuddered; she felt as if a ghostly hand had invaded her body and gently caressed her heart, threatening to squash it at a moment's notice.

Once the soul link was solidified, Damien and Mary simultaneously opened their eyes.

Damien grinned as he patted Mary's shoulders with his gloved hand, "Your title henceforth shall be 'Priestess of Angel Tears', and you will lead the Blackthorns narcotics department focusing on distribution and sales."

Mary's brown eyes widened with confusion as she shifted her body uncomfortably under Damien's hand, "Priestess? I erm, did not expect that..."

"Do you have any loved ones that you miss dearly? Perhaps a dead relative or friend?" Damien asked with a mysterious smile.

Mary sadly nodded, "Too many to count..."

"Perfect!" Damien insensitively proclaimed, "Follow me; I will lead you to your workplace. Although the saying goes, Don't get high on your own supply, I believe there's no better way to sell something you have personally experienced!"

Damien practically dragged the confused Mary into the depths of Blackthorn's dungeon.