“Join?
Join what?
Join the ranks of people who hit a brick wall and come back crying?” Vaggie asked, her voice full of doubt.
Moon wagged his index finger.
“I mean joining their way of operating.”
He straightened his posture.
“Let’s put redemption aside for a moment.
Let’s talk about the Three Vs.
Tell me, what do they rely on to survive?”
“Media, the adult industry, and fashion,” Vaggie answered with a frown, not understanding where he was going with this.
“Good summary.
And what do they need most?”
“Traffic?
Attention?
Money?”
“Exactly.”
Moon turned back to look at the city’s night skyline.
“What is the hotel currently lacking the most?”
“Everything,” Vaggie said flatly.
“Uh…” Moon was momentarily choked by her bluntness.
“No, what we lack most is publicity and momentum.
We need all of Hell to know that there’s a place here doing something shocking and unprecedented.
Whether they mock us or look down on us doesn’t matter; first, they have to know we exist.”
Moon stared at the airship in the distance.
“And currently, the most powerful propaganda machine in Hell is in the hands of our enemies.”
Vaggie stood up from the sofa and walked over to Moon’s side, following his gaze out the window.
“You want to cooperate with them?
They want us dead!”
“I didn’t say cooperate.
I said utilize.”
He continued, “Listen, Charlie needs publicity, and the hotel needs visibility.
Since the Three Vs occupy the high ground of social media traffic, we’ll borrow their momentum.”
Moon leaned against the window frame with his arms crossed, guiding Vaggie’s train of thought.
“Think about them carefully.
Give me the details.”
Vaggie took several deep breaths to steady her heart.
The despair in her eyes gradually faded into deep reflection.
“The Three Vs…” She organized her thoughts, speaking with a hint of uncertainty.
“Vox—the TV head.
He’s a tech giant who controls all the surveillance and power grids.
He’s a control freak, extremely narcissistic, and he has a blood feud with Alastor.”
“You already know Valentino.
Abusive, lecherous, emotionally unstable—he’s the most unpredictable live wire of the three.”
“And then there’s Velvette.” Vaggie’s brow furrowed.
“That little maniac with the British accent.
She’s the Overlord of the fashion world and handles social media.
She’s arrogant and dismissive, thinking everyone but her is a fossil.
She’s the backbone of the Three Vs and the one most skilled at inciting public opinion.”
“A perfect combination,” Moon nodded.
“One for technology, one for content, and one for dissemination.”
He continued, “Vox wants power, Valentino wants pleasure, and Velvette wants attention.
Their interests don’t always overlap.”
Moon turned to look at Vaggie.
“When Charlie goes to them to beg, it’s a position of weakness.
What we need to do is walk up to them as equals and tell them: We have a project that can bring them massive traffic and attention, and ask if they’re interested in investing.”
He went on, “We need an entry point.
An opportunity that makes them step on each other’s toes while pushing the hotel into the spotlight.
We drag a behind-the-scenes abuser like Valentino back into the limelight.
When that happens, will he still be able to treat Angel however he pleases?”
Vaggie was stunned by his words, though her brow remained tight.
“But why would they agree?
What’s in it for them?”
“Benefit?
A Hell Princess humbling herself to run a doomed redemption game with a bunch of Sinners—that in itself is the joke of the year and a top-tier trending topic.
Vox would love it; he could use it to mock Alastor to his heart’s content.
Valentino could show all of Hell his absolute control over his property.
As for Velvette…”
At that moment, something clicked for Vaggie.
A piece of information she had overlooked suddenly surfaced.
Her eyes sharpened.
“Velvette!
Right!
I remember now!
Velvette’s annual fashion show is in a week, and she sent Charlie an invitation!”
She looked up.
“I always thought she just wanted to humiliate Charlie or use her as a mascot to drive traffic.
But looking at it now, isn’t that the perfect stage?”
Moon met her gaze.
The heavy atmosphere in the room completely dissipated.
Vaggie’s single eye sparkled.
She was no longer just the guardian who could only watch helplessly as Charlie got hurt; she saw a target she could actively strike.
The dullness and sense of powerlessness that had weighed on her for so long vanished, replaced by a long-lost edge and an anticipation mixed with tension and excitement.
She didn’t know exactly what Moon would do, but she had a feeling that as long as Moon was there, this wouldn’t be a one-sided slaughter.
“What do we need to do?”