They escorted Felix into the back with the tense precision reserved for a ticking bomb. The demons at his flanks were as immovable as stone pillars, staying silent as they forced him down into a chair.
The room he was in was bare, holding nothing but a small table and two chairs. With the demons ignoring his every glance, Felix began to observe the room to pass the time.
Minutes stretched out into an agonizingly long wait before a man stepped into the room.
He was remarkably tall, with caramel-colored skin, a striking grey bob, and an exceptionally posh sense of style. Felix took one look at the stranger's white-and-yellow suit and knew it probably cost a fortune.
Though significantly older, he carried himself with a profound sense of calm that you could feel without even looking directly at him.
Behind a pair of round glasses, the man's eyes remained shut, yet he radiated an aura of pure intimidation.
Trailing right behind him was a noticeably shorter woman with striking, feline features. Felix caught himself scanning her figure before quickly looking away, focusing intently on the blank wall opposite them.
She wore a custom, shredded bodysuit paired with thigh-high leather boots.
'Was that a collar?'
The man pulled out a chair and sat down opposite to Felix, while the cat demoness remained standing behind him.
"Ah, apologies if I've made you wait. I heard you were interested in work. Is that true?"
He spoke with a quiet, calm authority. It was jarring to see a demon so refined while running a street gang, though Felix couldn't tell if that poise was bought with wealth or born of pure influence.
"I am, sir."
"Care to tell me why?"
"Well, frankly, I'm broke. Do I need any more reason than that?"
The demon's questions carried a flicker of genuine curiosity, but his relaxed posture and unreadable expression gave nothing else away. While it was hard to tell, Felix could swear the older demon found amusement in his words. A faint sound, resembling a snicker, escaped him.
"Are you the one in charge? And if so, can I get your name?"
"I am. Please, call me the boss."
"Boss, huh? Then did I get the job?"
"Well, do you gamble?"
Prompted by the question, Felix recalled the scene he had witnessed just before stepping inside. From passing memories, he realized that for almost the entirety of his life, he had never gambled a single day.
"No."
"Perhaps 'gamble' is too simple a term. Let me rephrase. Have you ever wagered your entire future on a single choice, blind to the outcome? Have you really never played that game?"
The unexpected words caught Felix off guard, but he kept his composure, his only outward concession being a subtly raised eyebrow.
"Well, yeah, if you look at it that way, hasn't everyone? That's a bit of a loaded question considering that logic applies to basically anyone you ask"
The Boss tilted his head, a thin, amused smile touching his mouth. He propped his chin on the edge of the table. "Are you perhaps unwell? Maybe a mental illness?"
Felix blinked a couple of times, struggling to process the sheer absurdity of the question.
Discovering that mental illness could actually exist in Hell was bizarre enough, but the fact that they thought he had one took the cake.
"What? Of course not!"
Felix's face hardened into a deep frown. The mere suggestion of mental illness struck a raw nerve. As far as he was concerned, he was the most stable person in the room.
"Easy, easy. It was just a thought I found myself having."
'Over questioning a circular philosophy? Everyone in the world must be insane to you.'
"If you want to work for me, I have just one condition."