Normally, Felix allowed tension to breathe between rounds. He'd learned early that anticipation made people reckless. But as anything can be taken advantage of, so could idea's.
Shortening the pauses between rounds, it kept remaining players from wandering their eyes too often.
"Double or leave." Nudging the dice across the crate toward a sinner missing half his lower jaw, the demon naturally hesitated. After a roll, a curse exploded from his ruined mouth while the surrounding gamblers laughed.
The moment hesitation appeared, Felix immediately redirected attention somewhere else before uncertainty could spread through the crowd. Good ol' peer pressure also worked.
This wasn't the only change, however. He'd also stopped letting spectators linger for free. If someone wanted to stand close enough to watch, they either played or moved aside.
Quietly collecting the souls, the eruption of laughter and praise from further down the street came again. For the fourth time in under an hour, someone near his crate glanced toward the crimson lanterns. And for the fourth time, they looked back disappointed.
Exhaustion was a constant wave for hours on end. By the time the last of his players left, there wasn't much left to salvage.
Felix gathered what little remained on the crate. Stacking the dice into his palm, he stood and lifted the crate, this time carrying it inside the shop. By the time the door shut behind him twice, he decided to go for a walk.
The further he got from his usual corner, the more parts of the street changed in small ways. This was a result of small organized groups with stationed dealings and businesses.
There were quite a few he recognized in structure, if not in name. He hadn't given it some thought for a while, but maybe seeing such things like backroom card dens, corners with deals, and especially small groups posted at intersections was unfondly familiar.
In the living world, things like these were naturally supposed to be hidden in fear of exposure; so, seeing everything presented out in the open was still a new experience he was adjusting to. He was only still revising his knowledge of hell. He could've known that opposed to the many lessons that hell was a realm of eternal pain and damning fire, it was rather similar to earth.
Obviously, it was much worse. But it was better for him.
Felix could faintly remember a moment of learning when he was alive. Even at a young age, he had managed to carve out something small for himself, even if it was just a side hustle.
He'd called it readings. It wasn't entirely a lie. With a bit of cold reading, some overheard conversations, and a careful eye for detail, Felix had been able to tell people about themselves that made him gain the label of a psychic.
He remembered enjoying it more than the money. There was something satisfying about watching someone lean forward, hanging onto his words as if they mattered. As if he mattered.
It had worked for a while. Then came the wrong customer.
Felix couldn't remember his face clearly anymore, but he remembered the way he stood too still and lacked specific reactions without any surprise or curiosity.
At the time, Felix had assumed he'd simply misread him. It happened. Now, thinking back on it, the hindsight was apparent. For fucks sake, the questions had been too pointed and too deliberate.
Days after the guy left, his visits stopped being casual. He'd frequently noticed people lingering a little too long near his corner. It hadn't taken long after that before his little operation disappeared overnight, made sure through a black eye and bruises he'd been given.
At the time, he hadn't understood how something that small could draw attention. He'd assumed it was bad luck. Wrong place, wrong time type of case. Now, older, he realized it someone had pointed him out, no doubt his odd client.
The memorable lesson he learned that day was to avoid drawing attention to yourself when creating a hustle around others. It could be perceived as a challenge. At the very least, have protection or otherwise make sure you have the influence to be protected.
But what could he take away from that now? He didn't know enough to even attempt to build influence — at the very least, not yet. So that left him with protection.
How troublesome. .
Never the type to limit himself to simple answers, Felix began searching for a creative and unexpected solution: one they wouldn't see coming.
He needed some way to deal with his new competition, but also some way to learn more about them. After all, it was to convenient for them to appear out of nowhere.
From the result of his pondering, a light-bulb might as well appeared above Felix's head. With it came a menacing grin. To those around, he looked like the average manic, but he was a planning maniac at least.
𓋹
For his plan, he found himself in unfamiliar territory. Deeper into the district, the change in scenery came from territory already claimed made it clear what a parallel they were to the controlled outskirts he was used to.
When mentioning 'controlled', he was referring to less of an influence by just one. Many parts were influenced by different parties, which took on many forms. It reminded him of the center of the pride ring. Just to a lesser degree.
Just in the distance, he saw a cart filled with a couple of boxes of alcohol by the sidewalk. It probably belonged to the imp beside it, muttering under his breath while kicking the wheel.
What drew Felix's attention next was the wolf-like demon behind him.
He'd seen a few like it before. Back near the heart of Pride, they'd been hauling anything heavy while being dragged with chains. They were treated worse than imps, and that was saying something.
Appearing male, the wolf demon stood with both hands braced. With tense shoulders and stiff posture, he attempted to push the cart forward. The effort showed, but the cart barely moved.
"Fucking useless mutt. You have one job!"
Although lowering, the wolf demon didn't respond, continuing to try and push the cart with a weak vigor. Squinting, Felix watched for another second, then stepped forward.
"Your wheel's caught."
The imp glanced over, annoyed at first, then mildly relieved at the interruption. "Yeah? Well it's all I could get. So fuck off."
Felix tried to whistle, but learned his new lips could only let out a shy attempt. With a quiet embarrassment, Felix distracted himself. "Need help?"
The imp huffed something under his breath, stepping aside with a dismissive wave. "Knock yourself out."
With permission, Felix moved to the side of the cart instead, crouching briefly to glance at the wheel. Noticing how the problem wasn't the weight, he looked underneath, seeing it was because of how it was sitting.
He stood again, tapping the side of the crate once. "Stop." The hellhound froze immediately. Adjusting the angle himself, he nudged the wheel free from the edge before stepping back. "Try now."
After a push, the cart rolled forward. The wolf demon was still struggling, but it'd helped.
The imp blinked, then straightened slightly, no doubt expecting that to take longer. "Huh."
Felix stepped aside as the cart cleared the obstruction, brushing his hands together. "You know, the stack of boxes are uneven, you'll lose something if you keep it like that."
"Yeah, yeah," the imp waved him off again, though his words seemed to carry weight, as he was already looking at the crates with a bit more attention.
While observing the scene, Felix's attention returned to the wolf demon.
The wolf detail came from his shaggy black fur, digitigrade legs, and predatory yellow eyes that contrasted sharply with his submissive posture. He wore a collar around his neck, marking him clearly as property.
His long, bushy tail hung low and motionless between his legs, devoid of any canine enthusiasm. Despite his slim build and intimidating jawline, the hellhound moved with the hesitant, defeated grace.
What made Felix tilt his head was a device fixed against his back, half-hidden beneath the angle of his shoulders — thin lines running along his spine, disappearing beneath his skin.
Beneath the intimidation, though, his features were surprisingly young — he couldn't have been much older than Felix.
"Where'd you get him?" Felix asked.
The imp snorted. "Got stuck with him, more like. No clue where the boss found him, but I was stuck with him as a flunkey."
Humming quietly, Felix commented. "Seems like a hassle."
"You have no idea."
Felix skimmed back at the cart, then at the street behind them.
"Tell you what," he said. "I'll help you move the rest of these. Save you the trouble."
The imp narrowed his eyes slightly. "And why the hell would you do that?" Felix gestured in the vicinity of the cart. "And you won't have to deal with him after."
With wide eyes, the imp looked between Felix and the hellhound, weighing it. Seeing as an answer was given a moment later, it must've not been a difficult decision.
"Fine. Your loss. Now we have to get these down a few blocks to some places."
Felix returned to the cart with a smirk, already adjusting a box before the imp could say anything.