He closed his eyes, and his body began to change.
Missy paused, watching as his form shifted from the jester outfit.
Armor and royal fur spread across his body. White beard strands pushed through his face as he slowly transformed into the King of Hearts depicted on the playing card.
The transformation ended with him looking like a real-life copy of the King of Hearts—his majestic gray-white beard, wrinkled skin, heart-patterned clothing, and weapons complete.
The rifles and revolvers were marked with red hearts, their metal gleaming with a crimson hue.
The image was finished with a royal scepter tied to his kingly robes.
It felt surreal...
This was his third—maybe fourth—time undergoing a transformation that altered him in his entirety.
The first time was when he manifested in this world.
The second was when he was possessed by Falco.
The third was his jester enlightenment.
All three felt leagues above the other soul-mimicking personas.
And now this—
The King of Hearts.
This one wasn't brought on by soul consumption, but by raw spiritual energy.
He felt the King's card beneath his fingers, then pushed—pushed all his spiritual cocoon, shaped in its image, back into it.
King…
A king…
He began changing again, this time into a random thug.
Qiren dove through the persona's memories—flashes of a kid watching European films, fantasy games, animated movies. Every notion, thought, and pride associated with kingship was stripped away and sent into the card.
He watched as those memories eroded into black spots within the thug's soul.
Pant… pant… pant…
He was fully transformed into the thug now, his kingly appearance gone as quickly as it had arrived.
The card on the table glowed.
The king now sat with a cold expression, a lion's pelt draped over his throne. Revolvers hung at his waist, three rifles strapped across his back.
Qiren looked down at his own waist, then over his shoulders. His guns were gone.
Did I send them into the card?
He glanced back at it, then at the lone revolver still on the table—the only one that hadn't been turned into an image.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
"That was awesome," Missy said, clapping as she stood, having witnessed the transformation firsthand. "What was that? You got all old for a moment—I was worried you'd croak before our game even started."
She rose slowly, curiosity drawing her toward the card. "This looks different… did you change it?" she asked, stepping closer.
Qiren didn't answer right away.
His hand brushed the card, and both of them saw an invisible lock hovering above it.
It shimmered with a dial—numbers marking time around its edge, from one to thirty minutes.
"What the—? Is this safe to be around?" Missy asked, stepping back a few paces. She knew this was Qiren's "magic," but she had no idea what would happen if she got too close.
This was a penalty card, after all.
For all she knew, it could come to life and start blasting.
Qiren mused at her caution and pulled her closer. "Try giving it a poke," he whispered vaguely.
"That's not reassuring. Shouldn't you say something like it's safe as long as I'm here or something cheesy?" she shot back, though her eyes drifted to the card again, curiosity winning out.
He turned into the King of Hearts first. Then the card glowed, and he mimicked—shapeshifted into—a guard right after.
Is that his power? Mimicking? That would make sense. He wouldn't kill so freely without a way to hide his true identity.
For all I know, he might not even be a guy. Sure, we flirted—but how much of that was an act?
Dang. I got sidetracked.
She cleared her head. "So… a mimic's power, when placed on a card, would store items and seal its form into it—allowing it to be given to someone else."
That was her conclusion from what she'd seen, and it was enough to make her fingers move.
"I hope it doesn't do anything permanent," she said, "or you'll be stuck with a vengeful old man hovering around you."
"That would be a nightmare," he replied. "Then I wouldn't have a top-grade beauty to snuggle with."
She steadied herself and pressed her index finger to the card's surface.
The lock pulsed, revealing what it bound together. Dozens of faint, indistinct chains fluttered into existence.
Qiren felt it immediately. With a bit of spiritual intent, he could choose when the lock would release—turning anyone who touched it into the new King of Hearts.
"It didn't do anything," she said.
He heard the disappointment in her voice. "What, are you disappointed?"
He stepped in behind her, arms wrapping around her waist.
"How about I let you set this penalty card?"
"If you're offering, I'll accept," Missy said, tilting her neck to the side. Qiren took the invitation, brushing her hair aside and kissing her collar.
"Mmm," she moaned as he used the moment to advance their "relationship." At the same time, she confirmed something else—he wasn't a vampire, at least. She kept trying to piece together the jester who had brought this new thrill into her life.
"You can pick from three categories for the card," he murmured, his voice vibrating along her neck. "Trap, shapeshift, or blessings."
She shivered against him. He's good at this.
Is he an incubus, then? Though would it matter if he could take anyone's face?
If he wanted to, he could wear a celebrity's appearance and bed any supermodel he pleased.
Her hands slid over his—one lowering toward her inner thigh, the other cupping beneath her breast. Should I test it out? Maybe he'll surprise me.
He gripped her firmly, fondling her breast.
"Since you said I get to choose," Missy said, guiding his fingers with her left hand as she squeezed, "I won't pick the trap category. I don't want another death scenario added to my list."
She said it lightly, but the tone made him think otherwise—another rule that could end her life had just been avoided.
"Really?" he murmured, fingers teasing along her slit. "Very well. Which one do you want, then?"
"Not the shapeshift," she said, grinding against his fingers, coating them in her leaking heat. "We both know you wouldn't appreciate me becoming an old man."
"That leaves blessings for little old me~"
He lifted his mouth from her neck. "These are the blessings I can give: Hope, Sorrow, Pain, Fear, and Selective Memories."
In what world are pain, sorrow, and fear blessings?
She was about to say it—but he silenced her with his mouth.
The kiss deepened, tongues swirling for dominance. She closed her eyes, melting into him. Her breasts warmed under his hands as he molded her flesh, teasing her nipples.
His fingers below parted her vulva, taking control, pushing two knuckles deep into her slick heat.
Plop.
When he pulled back, she was gasping. "Since you're an adrenaline seeker—willing to go as far as seducing a demonic monster who wouldn't blink at killing or consuming souls…"
"So how about this as a blessing? I stitch together memories of a gang member during brief, adrenaline-filled moments—picking a few at random to create a shot designed specifically for you."
"That sounds interesting."
"Yeah, I pick that. Can you add a specific memory to the bundle?" she asked, licking her lips.
"That's possible," he said, "but I'm afraid I can't pick any of your memories unless you're offering up your soul~"
She laughed, slipping from his grasp but keeping his hands where they were as she sat on the desk. "Not quite."
She pressed his left hand deeper into her chest, his right further into her wet velvet.
Propping one leg on the edge of the table, she spread wider. "I heard men produce a stronger dose of adrenaline during sex."
"I want you to put your memory of us doing it into that penalty card—so I can see if it's true for myself~"
Qiren clicked his teeth. She wants to use me as a guinea pig.
Their eyes met. Only now did he fully see her madness—and decide to match it.
"I thought you said you don't do anything naughty on the first date," he said.
"This isn't a date," she replied, leaning closer. "I'm just testing my favorite game master's mechanics. That's fine, right?"
He stared at her for a moment longer. "I did ask you to choose what I put into the card, after all."
They moved closer together as the first rays of sunlight spilled into the room, bathing it in gold. Bodies were strewn across the carpet, unnoticed as they remained locked in each other's warmth.