His eyes locked onto the glowing figure in the right corner of the panel.
[Coins: 50,999]
It was an annoying amount. It was not obscene enough to feel rich, but neither was it low enough to feel panic.
Until a few hours ago, his mentality had been that of a paranoid "prepper": saving every coin for the apocalypse, hoarding resources for when something worse than a cosmic clown appeared at his door.
But the ease with which Lillith and the girls had dispatched the threat of Derry had touched a nerve.
If they were so strong, what was he stressing so much about saving pennies for?
Besides, there was that itch in his brain.
That dopamine that only gambling can offer.
"To hell with it..." he murmured feeling the adrenaline. "I have fifty thousand. Spending a thousand is practically a rounding error."
Taking a deep breath, he adopted the solemn expression of a general sending troops to a certain death.
"Let's go! A round of ten! Show me what you have, stingy system!"
[CONFIRM]
With a thought, his balance dropped to 49,999.
Immediately, the minimalist panel exploded visually and a huge roulette wheel appeared floating in the middle of his room, bright... very bright.
"And... spin!"
The needle began to buzz, spinning at a dizzying speed.
The lights of his room flickered in sync with the system's special effects, creating a casino atmosphere.
Click-click-click-click...
The wheel began to slow down and his heart, betraying his facade of indifference, began to beat faster.
He knew it was the basic one, but hope is the last thing to be lost. What if something rare came out?
The needle made the last jump and stopped.
The notification sound jingled happily.
[Item: "Spectral Vision" Eye Drops x1]
[Description: A single drop and we guarantee that you will see all those invisible "friends" for 12 hours. Warning: They sting the eyes.]
A grimace appeared on his face.
Why do I want to see more?
Trash. Next.
[Item: Standing Mirror]
[Description: An elegant full-length mirror. Aside from reflecting your vanity, it does not do much. But... perhaps it is waiting for the right tenant?]
"Hm. Well, this is not total trash," he thought, rubbing his chin. "Airam is going to like having another house."
Passable.
[Item: Radio.]
[Description: An antique radio that only tunes into static and, occasionally can receive some strange signals from "other places"]
"As if I didn't have enough with the creaking of this house. Straight to the basement."
The needle kept jumping.
[Item: a simple Halberd]
He blinked, confused.
"A halberd? Seriously?"
He looked at the icon of the medieval weapon, a long spear with an axe at the tip.
"What am I supposed to do with this?"
The wheel spun again and then, the familiar icon appeared.
[Item: "Seduction" Silk Stockings Pack (Black, White, Gray - One Size)]
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!" he shouted jumping up from the bed. "Again! It is always the same with you!"
He walked in circles around the room, frustration coming out of his pores.
"I have hundreds of these pairs in the inventory! Hundreds! Give me grenades! Give me potions! Give me something that does not make me look like a pervert with a fetish!"
The system, ignoring his tantrum, released another prize.
[Food: Birthday Cake x5]
The anger deflated as fast as it came.
He looked at the five cakes with frosting that appeared in his inventory, floating next to the damn stockings and the medieval halberd.
"Cake..." he said with a defeated tone. "You give me lace stockings and then cake. Basically, you are telling me to throw a very strange party."
He dropped back onto the bed, covering his face with his hands.
"I hate chance."
The roulette wheel kept spinning.
[Ingredient: Supreme Quality Garlic x10]
[Description: Purple skinned garlic, organic and potent. It has a slight repellent effect against certain vampires. Of course, its main use is to guarantee that you never have a second date if you eat it raw.]
?
He looked at the garlic heads that appeared in his hand.
"Fantastic," he murmured, throwing them onto the bed.
[Item: Crossbow]
[Description: A modern crossbow made of composite polymer. Includes ten carbon fiber bolts. Silent, lethal and reusable. The essential accessory for the survivor.]
Another old weapon...
[Food: Instant Noodles "Fermented Hell"]
[Description: The flavor you did not know you feared! Contains a package of sauerkraut and kimchi fermented in a jar for years. Acidic, spicy and highly addictive. Warning: Your stomach might file a formal lawsuit against you after consuming it.]
His face darkened and he lay down again.
Upon checking the history of the draw, his enthusiasm had already evaporated. Except for the crossbow, the rest was... well, things you would find at a garage sale.
"Last chance," he murmured, watching the roulette wheel spin slowly for the tenth and last prize. "Give me something good..."
The needle passed the "Common Item" square.
It passed the "Rare" one.
And then, it stopped on a square he had not seen before.
The entire room lit up in an explosion of golden light that forced him to close his eyes for a second.
The system notification sound was not a simple click, but an orchestral chord, triumphant and deep.
[CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE OBTAINED A LEGENDARY RANK ITEM]
[Special Space: Demonic Detective Agency]
[Description: An independent pocket dimensional plane, exclusive to the user. It functions as a base of operations, safe refuge and office. People who need "special help" will be able to perceive its entry into the real world. Active Ability: As the owner, you can access this space by opening any existing physical door. Likewise, you can use the Agency as a nexus for travel.]
"..."
He was stunned, with his mouth open, looking at the floating panel. The golden light faded, leaving only the blue glow of the text.
The stockings, the garlic and the noodles disappeared from his mind. The previous nine prizes together were not worth even the digital ink of this last one.
"Independent dimensional space?" he whispered, feeling how his heart began to pound hard against his ribs.
Wasn't this basically Dante's Devil May Cry?
Or the Matrix Construct?
He leaned forward, reading the text. "If you want to go to a place, simply open a door."
The description was a little ambiguous, almost poetic.
Did it mean that the agency door could manifest wherever he wanted? Or that he carried the agency with him?
He reread the key part: "you can enter it by opening a door."
The practical meaning hit him suddenly: Any door is His door.
His gaze drifted slowly toward the white wooden door of his bedroom.
Holding his breath, he jumped out of bed, landing barefoot on the carpet, and walked toward the door.
He extended his hand. The metal doorknob was cold under his palm.
'Agency,' he thought forcefully. 'Take me to the office.'
He turned the knob.
He threw the door open.
The hallway was no longer there.
The carpet was not there nor the family photos on the walls. The stairs going down to the living room were not there.
Before him stretched immensity.
A vast, titanic space, without a visible horizon.
Everything was wrapped in a slate gray mist, a static and silent void. There was no up, nor down, nor walls.
It was like standing at the edge of the universe before creation.
He stood frozen on the threshold, with one hand still on his room's doorknob, looking into the abyss.
"Is this... the Agency?" his voice sounded small, absorbed by the silence of the place. "Is this a joke? It is empty! It is an infinite parking lot."
Tentatively he put a foot out and tried to step on the gray void.
The instant his foot came down, the "ground" reacted. A wooden floor, polished and dark, materialized under his sole with a solid sound, extending in all directions for a few meters.
He entered completely and closed the door behind him.
The door remained there, floating in nothingness, a solitary frame in the void.
Immediately a sensation of absolute control invaded him.
He looked around, hands on hips.
"Well, this is depressing," he said out loud. "If I am going to have a business here, I need furniture. It is too empty. I need a desk... something classic, something with authority."
As soon as the thought formed in his mind, the gray in front of him swirled like smoke.
Light and shadow converged at a point three meters away. From out of nowhere, matter wove itself together.
A massive executive desk, Victorian style, made of dark and heavy mahogany, materialized with a thud on the floor that expanded to receive it.
It had engravings.
But it did not come alone. On the desk, a classic banker's lamp with an emerald green glass shade turned on with a click, bathing the wood in a calculating light.
"Woah!"
His eyes popped open.
He walked quickly toward the desk and ran his fingers over the surface.
It was cold, varnished, solid. It smelled of old wax and expensive wood.
The realization hit him.
He did not need anything. He just needed to... imagine it.
"I like it!" he exclaimed. "Basically, I am in 'Creative Mode.' Let's see how creative I can get."
He began to walk, his footsteps echoing on the wooden floor that generated automatically under his feet as he moved forward.
He felt like an interior designer.
"Furniture, atmosphere, lighting... I need this to have class, but to scream danger," he murmured, rubbing his chin while visualizing the mental blueprint.
He stopped and looked toward the door, establishing his reference point.
"First things first. My desk has to be right in front of the entrance, to see anyone who crosses that threshold."
In a blink, the heavy Victorian mahogany desk that had appeared before vanished and re-materialized exactly where he wanted and the antique radio occupying a place of honor in a corner.
"Perfect. Now, to the left..." He turned on his heels. "That wall needs history. A display. But not just any one, I want a museum display case."
The air shimmered and a huge glass shelf with a black steel frame surged from the ground.
"And an empty display case is sad," he said with a smile. "Let's fill it with memories."
With a thought, the objects of his adventures materialized inside the glass, illuminated by small internal spotlights.
There was the hermetically sealed glass bottle, inside which a dark and furious essence, Art, swirled uselessly. Next to it, Freddy's bladed glove. Jason's iconic hockey mask. A boning knife with stains that would never come off. A disturbing wax figure. And, as a recent centerpiece, a red clown nose.
He nodded with deep satisfaction.
They were not just objects; they were trophies.
"The Victorian mirror I took out a while ago... put it next to the display case," he ordered.
Instantly the standing mirror appeared.
"Now, the center. I need a social area," he continued, walking toward the middle of the room. "Something where deals can be closed or simply to waste time. A black leather Chesterfield sofa, worn but expensive look. And a glass coffee table... ah, and Persian rugs to dampen the sound."
The furniture appeared with a soft sound. The set screamed "exclusive gentlemen's club."
"To the right... entertainment. Definitely entertainment," he snapped his fingers. "A regulation size pool table. And for the atmosphere... a classic jukebox, loaded with the best classic rock hits."
The pool table landed with a solid thud, the ivory balls already organized in a perfect triangle, and the jukebox came to life in the corner.
He was becoming addicted to this... The sensation of control was intoxicating.
"Right! The most important thing!"
He turned toward the vast wall behind his desk.
"I need a backdrop that says 'don't mess with me.' A weapon rack that reaches the ceiling, Matrix style."
Metal screeched and a metallic rack rose from the floor, climbing toward infinity.
It was full of hooks, grids and magnetic mounts.
With a thought, his inventory emptied.
The twins Ebony & Ivory occupied the center spot. The crossbow placed itself to their right. Even the medieval halberd now hung vertically on one end, looking strangely intimidating and ceremonial in this context.
The prototype was complete.
In a matter of minutes, he had gone from being in an existential void to having the best "man cave" on the planet.
He walked toward the jukebox and pressed a random button with his fist.
The internal mechanism spun, the arm lowered and the first chords of a heavy and dirty electric guitar riff filled the air.
With the music booming, he walked slowly behind his desk. An ergonomic executive chair appeared just in time for him to drop into it.
He leaned back, the leather creaking under his weight, and put his feet up on the desk, crossing his ankles.
He looked at his kingdom.
Everything he saw had been created by his will... The sensation of safety was absolute, here, nothing could touch him unless he allowed it.
A smile full of pride was drawn on his face.
"Not bad for a first attempt," he murmured, looking at the door and then sweeping his gaze over the dark luxury that surrounded him. "And since I have the weapons, the style and the place... there is only one possible name for this agency."
"... Devil May Cry."
________
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