Spencer told him where he could find Luca Di Primo, he said that the place was behind a real store. Alexander would have to enter, tell them some strange code, better than no deal at all, and the merchant would lead him into the devil’s room.

He moved through the streets towards the store. Spencer told him in what direction it was in, and how the sign looked. It was a black sign with a large skull on it. The store sold poisons, which were quite costly.

Producing poisons wasn’t easy nor cheap, especially the potent ones, but it wasn’t as expensive as the price tags in the tower would make you think. Because poison could effectively immobilize or kill any creature on the first ten floors, the tower admins made sure to make poisons more expensive than any of the units could handle. That didn’t mean they couldn’t buy it, but that they’d have to give up other items to acquire them.

Alexander wondered how a devil might look. In the abyss market, he’d gotten to see knights affiliated with devils. They wore red armor with the horns and shapes bent in a way that shouldn’t be able to support a brain, a big one at least. Were they taking after their devil's looks? Spencer hadn’t described Luca Di Primo as a force for evil, so there was more to devils than just that. What exactly were they and where did they come from?

He spotted the black sign and moved towards it. The store was mainly made out of glass, and as he walked in he saw shelves upon shelves lined with glass vials of different poison. It looked like a perfume store. The amount of options shocked Alexander, but this was what happened to poisons when magic was involved. There were poisonous more attuned to killing with certain types of alignments, and there were poisonous for much more specific desires, like depleting somebody’s mana, making someone talk without stopping, or rendering them unconscious for ten to fifteen minutes.

Alexander entered the store and found that it was empty except for the merchant sitting at the back. The merchant of the store was a tiny man that eyed Alexander apprehensively. It seemed he was ready to throw the boy out the second he’d entered. Fortunately, there was no need to do this physically, simply jerking his hand upwards would produce a wind strong enough to send the boy flying out.

Alexander sensed this and thought it might be clever to utter to code as quickly as he could.

“Betterthannodealatall!” he said.

“Retard!” The little man burst out. The door which had been gliding to a close, suddenly sped up, and slammed against the frame. “You’re lucky nobody’s in this store, you little physically, spiritually and-most-likely-mentally malfunctioning shit!”

The man jumped off his high stool. He grunted as he landed on the wooden floor and waddled over to the side of the counter, where there was a half-sized door which could be pushed open. The clerk held it open and motioned for Alexander to tag along.

“Hurry up, will you?” He said, and as Alexander passed him he continued. “How did a boy like you get in contact with the boss anyway? You’re certainly not in the circles he’s in. I can smell it off you.”

“A friend of mine told me he sold magical tattoos, so I went here to check his wares out.”

“I’m telling you now kid, if you walk out of that store without buying anything, I don’t think the boss is going to be too happy. And you don’t want to make the boss not happy.”

They walked through a hallway. The store size was deceptive. From the outside it seemed to be tiny and small, the size of two prison cells, yet it extended deep. The hallway continued for almost twenty steps, or for Alexander, eight pushes of the wheel.

“The boss is to the left. I’ve notified him of your arrival,” the clerk said and walked away.

Alexander stared at the door to his left. It looked just like the other doors in the room. Tall and made out of oak wood. Alexander noticed that he was being taken many rooms away from public sight. It was not something he liked, but when he thought about it more, he realised that it would probably be how things were done with him.

He pushed open the door and went in.

A pair of eyes stared intently at Alexander the instant he entered. There was only one person in the room. Luca Di Primo sat on a cushioned black chair. A slick suit intently followed his body, a red tie hung over.

“Take a seat Alexander. I’ve heard you’re interested in a magical tattoo.”

Luca did not look like a devil, or what Alexander had assumed a devil would look like. He looked just like an average man. He had a sharp chin, sleepy cat eyes, lucious black hair combed backwards in such a fashion that two spikes of hair stuck out at the end and a thick but small nose.

Two things made it clear he was not a human though. There was the eye on his forehead, which was black like ink. Within its very middle a white dot jerked around. It had stared at Alexander for some time, but now it was back to staring at the ceiling. Then, there were the two large spikes jutting out from his shoulders. They were sharp and looked to be made out of metal. Blood flowed out from the wound, staining the suit, but the devil did not seem to notice it or make a mention of it.

Alexander, of course, could not take a seat, so instead he rolled over towards the table. Luca had not meant to insult him. His mind was racing on another topic, and he had said it out of muscle memory. He always invited customers to take a seat. In the time since Luca had been notified of Alexander’s appearance, hundreds of thoughts had gone through his mind.

Why would Morticous send his unit here? Morticous isn’t supposed to know where I conduct my business. Were his words back there a front? Is he sending me his unit in an effort to show how little of a threat I pose to him? I like that. I’m starting to like you Morticous.

Now then. How do I deal with this particular problem? There’s only two real paths in front of me. Either I sell him a tattoo or I don’t sell him a tattoo. Normally I’d give him a faulty tattoo that slowly siphons his power into me. But this could be Morticous’s way of baiting out a foul move out of me. Maybe he’s trying to make me give him a reason to attack me.

The question then becomes, why would he need a reason? If he were in control he could attack me without having to provide a reason to anybody, yet it seems there might be somebody above him. The existence of such a piece is not something I’ve accounted for. Certainly it’s nobody I want to piss off.

Then my course of action is obvious. I want to please that person, and make it difficult for Morticous to motivate an attack on me. That’ll give me more time to expand across the underworld. I should give him the best tattoo I could possibly do in order to gain favor points with that person. It would also serve as a rebuttal to Morticous’s slap. He thinks of me as such a small threat that he sends his unit here alone. I think of him as such a small threat that I strengthen his own unit. Brilliant.

Although, I have to make it clear that the tattoo comes from me.

“What types of tattoos do you offer?” Alexander asked.

“It depends on what you want from them,” Luca left the statement hanging. He wanted Alexander to fill it.

“I need mana regeneration. I can offer ten silver. What can you offer me for that?”

“Ten silver on its own wouldn’t be enough to purchase a tattoo. The tower regulates boons like this to make sure you can’t cheat. The better the boon, the more costly it becomes. Mana regeneration in particular is going to cost a lot, yet there’s a way to counteract that.”

“How?”

When Alexander asked that question, Luca knew he’d gotten him. The fact that he’d jumped to the question immediately, meant he was invested in what Luca had to say. Luca had his attention, and now he just needed to guide it in the right way. He needed to turn "I’m interested" into "I want that".

“You modify the tattoo to give an equally large debuff. Since you’ve offered ten silver we can make it a little bit smaller than that, but either way the question becomes what do you want to give in order to gain mana regeneration?”

Alexander thought about it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to give anything. That felt really risky, and if he was going to do it he wanted to hear somebody’s thoughts on it. Preferably Morticous’s.

Luca could feel his apprehension.

“What about your vitality? You’d be living on the edge. The slightest push would be enough to knock you unconscious. It’s not as if your vitality is a strong suit of yours, and the amount of mana you’d be gaining for doing this will be more than satisfactory.”

“How much?” Alexander said.

“500% increase in mana regeneration. You’ll be able to sustain a whole skeleton army in no time.”

“And what if I regret it?”

“We can always add another tattoo to revert the process.” That is, if I wanted to.

“You know what,” Alexander thought heavily for a moment. “Fuck it. Let’s do it.”

“Great.”

Luca Di Primo has offered you a trade agreement.

You will pay ten silver and 90% of your max vitality to gain a magical tattoo that will increase your mana regeneration by 500%

Yes/No

You have accepted the trade agreement.

“This is going to hurt,” Luca said as he pointed his palm towards Alexander. The skin cracked and a head pressed through. The head dropped down onto the table and Alexander got a better look at the creature. It had no neck, its head expanding untill it was its torso. Two tiny legs were attached to its bottom. On its face were two shining white eyes, and a row of teeth in a full smile.

The creature sprinted towards Alexander. He tried to move away but found that he couldn’t. Something had frozen him. The creature jumped off the edge of the table, diving towards his thigh, and then, it went through his thigh.

When Luca said it would hurt, it was an understatement. It felt as if a fire had welled up inside of his chest. He tried to scream and trash and rip whatever had gotten into him out, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t move, and he couldn’t scream, as if he had no air in him.

He writhed for two minutes until he passed out. When he woke up, he was in the middle of a street in the main district. Two guards stood in front of him, one of them slapped his chin in an effort to get him to wake up. It hurt much more than it had any right to.

“Is everything alright son?” One of the guards managed to mutter, before he collapsed down onto the ground.

“You FUCKING fool,” Morticous shouted, stomping his way up to Alexander.