The briefing had barely ended when two glowing holographic screens shimmered into existence above the living room table.
On one screen was a figure dressed in robes of blinding white—God in one of His many mortal-friendly forms, radiant but calming.
On the other screen lounged a figure in an impeccably tailored black suit, devilish charm dripping off of him—the Devil himself.
Both wore the expressions of stern but vaguely amused overseers.
"Good morning, Daniel," God said warmly.
"Yo," the Devil added lazily, waving two fingers. "Nice office, huh?"
Daniel blinked, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sudden divine conference call. He glanced around the stunning, gothic-themed manor again—the soaring ceilings, the ancient wood, the velvet and iron mix—and shrugged in his typical deadpan.
"It's nice. Can't complain.
Not like I'm getting paid anyway."
The room fell silent.
Both the God and the Devil slowly turned to look at each other, like two parents realizing they had forgotten their kid's birthday.
A dangerous pause.
"…What do you mean, you're not getting paid?" the Devil asked, his voice suddenly sharp, almost scandalized.
Daniel scratched the back of his head.
"You know. Paid. Money? For services rendered? ".
The Devil's smile twitched into something less amused.
He turned, very slowly, toward Malik.
"You didn't send him his transfer, did you?" the Devil said, voice silky but filled with knives.
"And you didn't give him the phone either?" God added, a little more gently, but his light flared a little brighter—a subtle divine scolding.
Malik coughed into his fist.
"I… uh… forgot?"
The Devil rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers.
A small black smartphone materialized in a burst of flame, landing neatly on the table in front of Daniel.
It gleamed faintly with a supernatural aura, symbols and glyphs faintly swirling under the surface of the screen.
"This," the Devil said, pointing at the phone like a teacher showing a very important tool,
"keeps track of supernatural news, client requests, bounty offers, classified events, and direct messages from Heaven and Hell."
God smiled and nodded.
"It's also enchanted. It can't be hacked, destroyed, or stolen—unless by someone on our level. Treat it well."
Daniel picked up the phone carefully, feeling the faint hum of magic thrumming through it.
Before he could say anything, Astrael quickly placed a small packet beside the phone—inside was a sleek credit card with an ornate, divine symbol on one side and a dark, infernal rune on the other.
God explained smoothly:
---
"Your payment works in three streams."
1. Monthly Human Salary:
You'll receive a deposit each month into a regular mortal bank account—enough to live comfortably, food, whatever mundane needs you have.
(Some humans dealing with the supernatural may also pay you directly.)
2. Heaven and Hell Credits:
Special currency used to purchase rare items, gear, enchantments, or even information from both Heaven's vaults and Hell's markets.
You can visit shops invisible to normal humans—or order directly through your new phone.
3. Freelance Payment:
Payment from private supernatural clients varies wildly.
Some pay in cash. Others in diamonds, gemstones, ancient gold coins, rare minerals, magical artifacts—you name it.
---
Daniel stood there, absorbing it all.
Human money... divine and infernal currency... literal bags of ancient treasure.
He blinked once.
Twice.
Then, without warning, he stumbled back into the couch, slumping with a stunned, almost tearful smile.
"Holy shit," he muttered, voice cracking slightly. "I'm rich."
Astrael smirked and crossed her arms. Malik pretended to be very interested in something invisible on the wall.
Even Lina peeked around the corner, confused by Daniel's sudden emotional collapse.
The Devil chuckled low and leaned forward on his holographic feed.
"Welcome to the family, kid.
You don't just fight monsters anymore...
You get paid to do it."
God added, smiling kindly,
"Serve well. Live well. Protect the balance."
With that, the holographic screens flickered out.
Daniel stayed frozen for a full minute longer, the new smartphone and card clutched in his hand like precious relics.