The stink of bleach still clung to the air where they'd scrubbed blood from the booth. The Master Club kept its image spotless, but the truth was always soaked into the wood. Elma strutted through the hall like the mess was perfume, her silver crop top still stained faint red from Ruv's throat.
Nitron was waiting by the balcony, glass of brandy in hand, watching the cleanup below like it was theater. He didn't look at her until she stopped, her heels clicking against marble.
"You did well," he said finally, voice smooth enough to cut glass. "Almost too well."
Elma leaned against the railing, close enough that his smoke-and-spice scent wrapped around her. "Don't sound so bitter, boss. I leveled up. You should be celebrating."
Nitron's lips curved in that cruel almost-smile. "Don't forget. Your levels belong to me."
She laughed, low and dangerous. "Then I hope you enjoy the ride."
He downed the rest of his drink. "Booth Nine. Human client this time. Rich. Important. The kind of man who thinks the world bends because his wallet says so. Don't kill him."
Elma's brows lifted. "That's a first."
"Consider it a test," Nitron said. "I don't just need a weapon. I need control."
[System Alert: Assignment Incoming]
Client Tag: Human Politician
Risk: Psychological Test
Reward: Active Skill Slot Unlock
Booth Nine smelled like cigars and ego. The man inside wasn't a demon, but he radiated filth worse than most of them—mid-forties, suit straining at the gut, bald spot shining under the chandelier. His eyes dragged over Elma like he was already peeling her clothes off.
"There she is," he said, grinning with yellowed teeth. "Nitron promised me his best girl. Thought you'd be taller."
Elma slid into the booth opposite him, crossing her legs slow, her skirt riding high enough to make him swallow. "I thought you'd be richer. Guess we're both disappointed."
His grin cracked, replaced with a scowl. He leaned forward, voice dropping into a snarl. "I wanted this bitch to suck my dick, not talk back. Nitron better not be playing games with me."
Elma tilted her head, smiling like a predator. "If you wanted silence, you should've ordered a corpse. I'm alive. Get used to it."
His fist slammed the table, rattling the glasses. "Call Nitron right now. Tell him I want obedience, not attitude."
Elma laughed in his face, sharp and cruel. Then she slid into his lap like she owned him, nails grazing his cheek. "Why don't you call him yourself? See how fast he tells you to choke on my spit instead."
[System Ping: Tension Escalating]
Optional Path: Submission → Faster Reward
Optional Path: Domination → Higher XP
He gripped her jaw, forcing her to face him, his fingers digging bruises into her skin. "You think you're special? You're just a hole with legs."
Her smile never faded. "And you're just a wallet with cholesterol. Now shut up before I carve 'hole' across your throat instead."
His breath stuttered. Perfect. She leaned in, biting his lip until he yelped, then whispered against his mouth, every word filthy and sugar-sweet.
"You wanted me to suck your dick? Baby, I'll do you one better—I'll suck the soul right out of you and leave the shell drooling on this leather."
The system flared hot in her vision.
[Skill Unlocked: Soul Drain (Active)]
Drain 5% energy from weakened targets on contact.
Power thrummed through her veins. She ground against him once, just to hear him choke on a moan, then sank her nails into his chest, tearing fabric and skin. Blood seeped warm against her hands.
He screamed, but it was muffled when she crushed her mouth against his, drawing the breath straight out of his lungs. His energy flickered, draining into her like smoke through a crack. He slumped back, weak and gasping, his cocky arrogance bled dry.
Elma stood, wiping her hands across his ruined suit jacket like it was a napkin. He was still alive—barely—but broken in every way that mattered.
Nitron appeared at the doorway, slow-clapping, his shadow spilling long across the floor. "Congratulations," he said. "Restraint looks good on you."
Elma smirked, stepping over the whimpering politician. "Restraint's boring. Next time, give me someone worth breaking."
[System Update: Assignment Complete]
+1 Level
Skill Slot Activated
New Active Skill: Soul Drain
The whole club had gone quiet. Eyes followed her as she strutted out, blood smeared on her thighs, laughter sharp as glass. She looked like sin dressed in silver, and for the first time, she felt the system humming under her skin like it wanted more.
Behind her, the politician sobbed. Ahead of her, Nitron was smiling.
And somewhere deep in the code of the world, a warning flickered that only she could see:
[Caution: Elma Nuiz is leveling faster than predicted.]