Two weeks after my unexpected evening with Angel Dust, the network discovered beneath my territory continued to occupy a considerable amount of personnel without requiring me to personally descend into the tunnels with a rifle in hand.
Which was a welcome improvement.
The engineers had now mapped a large portion of the branches near the former Outpost Forty-Seven.
Some tunnels had proven completely useless and been sealed, while others did indeed connect to several industrial sectors important enough to justify more serious work.
The prospect of having an underground logistics network had quickly transformed what had begun as a particularly bloody attack into a long-term infrastructure project, even though I had repeatedly needed to remind the engineers that discovering a few kilometers of tunnels did not mean we immediately needed to excavate beneath half my territory.
They were engineers.
Give them a hole in a mountain and enough budget, and sooner or later they would propose a railway line.
I knew scientists well enough not to hold it against them.
I had spent part of the morning examining a proposal to connect two military depots to the network when my lieutenant entered my office carrying the afternoon schedule.
The appointment listed there was considerably more interesting.
Carmilla Carmine.
Unlike the last meeting we had attended together, this one concerned neither the Overlords of Pentagram City as a whole, nor the death of an Exorcist, nor the potentially catastrophic consequences such information could have if it began circulating through the streets.
It was simply business.
Carmine Industries already supplied the Dominion with several categories of equipment and, most importantly, a limited quantity of angelic steel.
Until recently, I had considered the material a rare and particularly useful resource whenever a sinner dangerous enough for their regeneration to become a problem needed to be permanently eliminated.
Recent events had somewhat changed my perception of its value.
I now knew that Exorcists could be wounded by their own weapons.
I also knew that one of them had been killed.
Everything pointed toward Carmilla being responsible, even though I still possessed no evidence solid enough to transform my near certainty into an established fact.
The investigation continued discreetly, with few enough resources devoted to it that its existence no longer mattered in my daily life.
That could wait.
The truly important information was already in my hands.
Angelic steel wasn’t simply a weapon capable of permanently killing sinners.
Its strategic value was potentially much greater.
And I had absolutely no intention of explaining to Carmilla why the idea had suddenly become so much more interesting to me.
The headquarters of Carmine Industries hadn’t changed since my last visit.
The limousine stopped in front of the main entrance in the early afternoon, flanked by two vehicles carrying a small escort.
Not an entire company, not a military display intended to remind the neighborhood that I possessed an army, and certainly not enough men to make it look as though I had arrived preparing for a siege.
A few soldiers were enough.
An Overlord who needed to parade several hundred men around every time she met another power mostly gave the impression that she desperately lacked confidence in herself.
My lieutenant stepped out first before opening the door for me.
“The logistics teams confirmed the figures this morning.
If Carmine Industries accepts the proposed increase, we can absorb the new deliveries without altering our current storage capacity for at least eight months.”
I stepped out and adjusted my cap slightly.
“And if she offers more?”
“Depot Four can be converted in less than three weeks.
It is currently operating at only forty percent capacity and already possesses the security measures required for storing sensitive material.”
That was why I had brought him.
I was perfectly capable of memorizing logistics tables, but there was no reason to turn a commercial transaction into a personal exercise in memory when the man responsible for part of those matters was standing only a few meters away.
We entered the building.
The employees we passed clearly recognized my uniform and its accompanying decorations, but none stopped to stare openly.
Carmine Industries had operated around weapons, contracts, and dangerous clients long enough that the presence of another Overlord inside its headquarters did not provoke widespread panic.
An employee led us to a room on one of the upper floors.
Carmilla was already waiting.
Clara and Odette were there as well, each with a series of files and documents arranged across the long central table.
Several metal samples and different manufactured components had been prepared on a side display, immediately confirming that Carmilla had no intention of wasting our time with an hour of pointless pleasantries.
I liked that woman.
Professionally.
I preferred to clarify that sort of thing internally ever since Angel Dust had started commenting on everything with two legs and a functioning respiratory system.
Carmilla stood when we entered.
“Tanya.
Lieutenant.
Thank you for coming.”
“You chose an excellent way to get my attention by putting the words ‘angelic steel’ in your business proposal.”
A very slight smile appeared on her face as she invited us to sit.
“I assumed it would be more effective than a long speech about opportunities for cooperation between our organizations.”
“Much more.”
My lieutenant sat to my right, opened his file, and remained silent while Clara distributed several documents.
Odette, meanwhile, placed a chart in front of us showing the volumes purchased by the Dominion over the previous years.
Carmilla wasted no more time.
“Your initial request calls for a progressive forty-percent increase in your purchases over the next twelve months, with the option to increase the volume further without completely renegotiating the contract.
That’s perfectly feasible, but it’s sufficiently above your usual orders that I’d prefer to understand your requirements before proposing a pricing structure.”
I quickly reviewed the figures.
“I’m building a larger strategic reserve.
The Dominion has expanded, our requirements have expanded with it, and relying on emergency purchases for a material with limited supply no longer interests me.
I’d rather pay to store something I may not need immediately than discover one day that I need it when everyone else is trying to buy it at the same time.”
Carmilla watched me for several seconds.
She certainly wasn’t naïve enough to believe that such a precise increase resulted from a sudden passion for inventory management.
That didn’t make my explanation false.
The best lie was usually the one in which you didn’t actually need to lie.
“You aren’t the only one to adopt that reasoning since the announcement of the accelerated Extermination,” she eventually replied.
“Demand is increasing in almost every sector.
Some of it is reasonable.
Some comes from small groups convinced that stockpiling a few blades will be enough to protect them from whatever may happen over the coming months.”
“Panic is excellent for business as long as you aren’t one of the people panicking.”
Clara glanced up from her documents, visibly amused.
Carmilla barely smiled.
“Until panic creates a shortage severe enough to disrupt the clients who actually know what they’re buying.
That’s precisely why I prefer to organize large orders in advance.”
She slid a document toward me.
The proposal was simple.
An immediate initial increase, followed by several stages over the coming months.
Carmine Industries guaranteed a minimum volume in exchange for a purchasing commitment over a period long enough to allow them to adjust their own inventory.
I carefully read every clause.
My lieutenant did the same beside me.
Nobody spoke for several minutes.
It was relaxing.
I had participated in far too many negotiations where people seemed to believe silence was a weakness that absolutely had to be filled with words.
Carmilla clearly had no difficulty waiting while I checked what she was offering me.
Eventually, I put the document down.
“The volume works for me.
The price of the third tier doesn’t.”
Odette spoke this time, calmly explaining that the increase corresponded to the anticipated cost of recovering and processing the material if demand continued rising.
She didn’t recite some prepared justification meant to impress me; she presented the figures, explained which expenses could fluctuate and which would probably remain stable.
My lieutenant asked several questions regarding transport and delivery schedules.
The discussion lasted nearly twenty minutes.
None of us threatened anyone.
Nobody theatrically placed a weapon on the table.
We were two organizations large enough to understand that a difference of a few percentage points on a multi-year contract could represent more money than a dozen particularly successful robberies.
Eventually, we reached a compromise.
The third tier would remain below the price originally requested, but the Dominion would accept a slightly higher minimum commitment if Carmine Industries guaranteed priority access to part of its stock.
Once that matter was settled, I moved on to the subject that actually interested me.
“I’d also like to change the nature of part of the deliveries.
Until now, we’ve mostly purchased raw material and a few finished weapons.
I want more manufactured products and a better idea of your capabilities if our requirements increase suddenly.”
Carmilla’s gaze became slightly more attentive.
“What kind of products?”
“Nothing exotic.
Handguns, long guns, blades, and appropriate ammunition.
I mainly want to know what you’re capable of producing consistently without compromising quality.”
I let my gaze move across the samples displayed beside us.
“And before my engineers decide to conduct expensive experiments with a material they understand less well than you do, I’d like to know which configurations have already proven themselves.”
This time, Carmilla actually smiled.
“A surprisingly reasonable decision for someone who employs so many scientists.”
I met her gaze.
“That’s precisely why I know what happens when you give a laboratory a rare material without imposing a budget limit.”
My lieutenant had the decency not to add anything.
I knew perfectly well, however, that he was thinking about several personal projects that had exceeded their original budgets.
Carmilla stood and invited us over to the side display.
Several weapons were arranged there.
Some clearly used angelic steel only on specific components, while others had been designed around much larger pieces made from the material.
She picked one up and began explaining the differences.
I listened carefully.
Angelic steel possessed properties that made certain manufacturing methods considerably more complicated than working with ordinary metal.
Carmine Industries had developed its own processes for reworking it, and some weapons did indeed require specific modifications rather than simply replacing one component.
I never asked what would be most effective against an angel.
I didn’t even say the word.
I asked about durability, accuracy, costs, wear, and production capabilities.
Nothing a military client couldn’t naturally ask.
My lieutenant focused more heavily on maintenance and compatibility with our current equipment, while Odette answered him in enough detail that he began taking notes.
I picked up one of the weapons.
“Suppose I decided one day to equip several hundred men with equipment like this.
Not necessarily the same model, but weapons using your steel and produced according to your standards.
How long would it take?”
Carmilla didn’t answer immediately.
Her gaze moved from the weapon to me.
I didn’t change expression.
She knew I possessed several thousand soldiers.
Asking how long it would take to equip a few hundred of them was hardly absurd.
It was nevertheless the kind of question an intelligent person would remember.
And Carmilla was very intelligent.
“That would depend on what you ordered and how much material you were already supplying,” she finally explained.
“A few hundred specialized weapons can be produced relatively quickly if we have the components and if you’re willing to accept several models rather than a completely standardized series.
A much larger order would require dedicated industrial preparation.”
“Weeks or months?”
“For a few hundred, weeks, provided we know in advance what you want.
For several thousand, we’d be talking about a different scale of production and therefore a different contract.”
I simply nodded.
Useful information.
No need to ask for more.
I put the weapon back and continued examining the various products.
That was when I noticed the restraints.
They weren’t particularly spectacular: a system of short chains attached to reinforced cuffs, parts of which seemed to use the same pale metal as the weapons on display.
I picked them up.
They were heavier than they looked.
“You manufacture these too?”
“On request,” Carmilla replied.
“They’re not our most popular product.
Angelic steel is far too expensive for most of our clients to waste it on restraints.”
I turned one of the cuffs between my fingers.
“Could you manufacture a complete system?
Wrists, ankles, and collar, with a sufficient proportion of your steel to retain the desired properties?”
This time, even Clara shifted some of her attention away from her file.
Carmilla watched me.
“Yes.
But if your objective is simply to prevent an ordinary sinner from escaping, there are considerably cheaper solutions.”
“An ordinary sinner, certainly.”
I put the restraints back.
“Some targets are more valuable alive than dead, and the ones genuinely worth capturing rarely have the courtesy to be easy to contain.
I prefer knowing what can be ordered before I actually need it.”
Carmilla said nothing for a brief moment.
Then she nodded.
“We can manufacture them.
If you want a prototype, give us the specifications and we’ll establish a price.”
“Not today.
I simply wanted to know whether it was possible.”
I moved on to the next item.
The conversation continued.
No further questions about the restraints.
That was precisely why negotiating with Carmilla was pleasant.
She knew how to recognize information another person had no intention of elaborating on.
So did I.
Eventually, we returned to the table to finalize the remaining details of the contract.
Outside, Pentagram City continued producing its usual racket beyond the building’s large windows.
Even from this height, several distant explosions could be heard without anyone in the room paying them the slightest attention.
Hell had its own background noise.
Once the documents had been approved, Clara and Odette began gathering them while my lieutenant checked the dates scheduled for the first deliveries.
I could perfectly well have stood up and left.
Carmilla, however, remained seated.
“I heard about your evening with Angel Dust.”
I closed my eyes for a second.
Of course.
When I opened them again, Clara wore a faint smile she was clearly trying to hide by looking at her papers.
“I assume asking how that information reached you would be pointless.”
“You spent several hours drinking in a public establishment with one of the most recognizable actors in Pentagram City before a fight broke out in front of the building.”
Carmilla calmly folded her hands in front of her.
“The surprising part would have been if nobody talked about it.”
I sighed.
“He had a disagreement with a few idiots.
They decided to settle it while I was there.”
“And one of them drew an angelic blade.”
My attention immediately returned to her.
She raised one eyebrow slightly.
“I sell weapons, Tanya.
It’s in my interest to know when one of them appears in a public fight involving recognizable people.”
Reasonable.
“In that case, you probably also know that he left with it.”
“Yes.”
I leaned back slightly in my chair.
“Angel knew how to defend himself.
I had no reason to intervene until that blade appeared.”
“That’s not the part of the story people find amusing.”
“Naturally.”
“They prefer the version where Tanya Degurechaff and Angel Dust spend the evening together before you personally drive him back to the Hazbin Hotel.”
I looked at my lieutenant.
He was still focused on his documents.
Far too focused.
“If I hear that story being repeated at the domain, I’ll know who to blame.”
He finally raised his head.
“I submitted no report concerning your drinking with Angel Dust.”
“Your phrasing inspires absolutely no confidence.”
Clara suppressed a laugh.
Even Carmilla looked slightly amused.
I decided it was time to change the subject before this conversation became a disaster.
“Since we’re talking about the hotel, I assume you’ve also heard that I’ve visited several times.”
“Yes.
I’m simply curious about what you actually think of Charlie’s project.”
There was nothing particularly threatening about the question.
I nevertheless considered my answer before speaking.
“I still have no reason to believe redemption works.
Charlie has a theory, a great deal of determination, and absolutely no conclusive evidence.
If she eventually obtains some, I’ll revise my opinion.
Until then, I consider her project extremely unlikely to succeed.”
Carmilla inclined her head slightly.
“And yet you continue spending time with her.”
“Because Charlie and her project are two different things.”
I allowed a few seconds to pass before continuing.
“She’s interesting.
So are the people around her, sometimes.
I don’t need to believe in her hotel to appreciate some of the people living there.”
I saw something briefly pass across Carmilla’s expression.
Not mockery.
Perhaps simply a degree of understanding.
“Charlie has always had a way of attracting people who, on the surface, have absolutely no reason to remain around her.”
“I’m beginning to notice.”
We went no further.
There was no reason for the conversation to become a personal confession between two women who knew each other primarily through business and status.
Carmilla had her interests.
I had mine.
I respected her, which was already a great deal in this place, but respect didn’t mean I was going to forget that she was an Overlord with secrets of her own.
Including one secret whose golden corpse had been placed on the table during our last meeting.
A few minutes later, we stood.
The contract was concluded.
Our angelic-steel reserves would gradually increase over the coming months, and Carmine Industries would also send us a selection of products for evaluation by my technical teams.
I had obtained no confession.
I hadn’t looked for one.
For today, I had obtained something more useful.
Production capabilities.
Timeframes.
Prices.
And confirmation that it was entirely possible to order restraint systems incorporating angelic steel.
I rarely knew in advance which information would eventually become important.
That was precisely why I preferred accumulating a great deal of it.
We left Carmine Industries in the middle of the afternoon.
My lieutenant sat opposite me in the limousine while the escort vehicles resumed their positions around us.
He waited until we had left the district before speaking.
“The agreement is better than the initial projections.
Priority access to their stock will more than compensate for the minimum commitment if prices continue increasing at their current rate.”
“I agree.
Prepare Depot Four anyway.
I’d rather have too much space than be forced to improvise if we decide to accelerate our purchases.”
“I’ll transmit the order when we arrive.”
I watched the city through the window.
“And begin selecting several units for an evaluation program.
No need to inform half the army.
I want a few experienced groups capable of testing Carmilla’s equipment as soon as it’s delivered and producing useful reports.”
My lieutenant nodded.
“A company?”
“Much less to begin with.
A few sections drawn from different units will be enough.
Infantry, close protection, and reconnaissance.
I want to know how these weapons perform in several environments before deciding whether wider distribution is worthwhile.”
“And the restraints?”
I looked at him.
He had obviously noticed my interest.
“Nothing for now.”
I turned my attention back toward the street.
“But retain the information.
If we ever need to capture something our conventional methods can’t properly contain, I don’t want to discover at that moment that it takes three weeks to design the equipment.”
He accepted the answer without asking another question.
The vehicle had traveled several kilometers when a message arrived on his terminal.
He checked it.
His demeanor changed slightly.
“A problem on the western route.”
I turned away from the window.
“With our convoys?”
“Not directly.
Two groups have been fighting over several blocks since last night.
The fighting intensified around two hours ago, and the main road used by our transports now passes directly through their combat zone.”
He handed me the terminal.
I quickly reviewed the report.
The two groups belonged to minor local Overlords whose territories had bordered one another for several years.
Neither represented a serious threat to the Dominion, and neither had attempted to attack our installations directly.
They had simply chosen a particularly inconvenient place to settle their disagreement.
“Where are the convoys going at the moment?”
“The first was stopped before entering the area.
The convoy commander is awaiting instructions.”
“Have him take the southern route.
The others do the same until further notice.”
I continued reading.
The detour would add approximately forty minutes.
Annoying.
Not catastrophic.
“Also inform both sides that our convoys are being temporarily rerouted.
No threat and no ultimatum.
I simply want them to know we’ve identified the problem and don’t consider their fighting an attack against us as long as they remain intelligent enough not to touch our men.”
My lieutenant transmitted the instruction.
I continued reviewing the report.
One of the two Overlords controlled several workshops but had recently lost an ammunition depot.
The other possessed more men, but his vehicles and fuel supplies were notoriously poor.
I smiled slightly.
“Have our local agents evaluate their stocks.”
My lieutenant looked up.
“Are you considering supporting one of them?”
“I have no reason to choose a winner as long as their war remains far from my borders.
However, two organizations consuming ammunition, fuel, spare parts, and equipment at an accelerated rate represent two potential customers.”
He remained silent for several seconds before returning to his terminal.
“We have several surpluses available in the western warehouses.”
“How wonderfully convenient.”
I had absolutely no intention of giving anything away.
If they wanted to keep killing one another, they could perfectly well pay for the privilege.
“Prepare separate offers.
Conventional ammunition for the first camp, fuel and mechanical parts for the other.
Prices should account for the additional risk involved in delivering into a combat zone.”
My lieutenant began recording the instructions before I added:
“No angelic steel.
No weapons from our new order with Carmilla, and no equipment whose loss could create a strategic problem for us.
They can buy anything replaceable.
Everything else stays in our inventories.”
“Understood.”
I handed the terminal back to him.
“And if one side wins before the contracts are signed, we’ll sell the winner whatever they need to rebuild.”
My lieutenant put the device away.
“A remarkably neutral approach.”
“I do my best to respect conflicts that don’t concern me.”
His sharp-toothed mouth stretched slightly.
I returned to watching Pentagram City.
Overlords rarely fought one another openly without serious cause.
The consequences were too expensive, territories changed hands, and the victors could emerge weakened enough to immediately attract the attention of a third party.
But it happened.
And when war broke out between two powers too weak to threaten mine, I saw no moral reason to sacrifice the Dominion’s interests in order to convince them to make peace.
I was an Overlord.
Not a fucking humanitarian organization.
We reached the domain in the early evening.
I didn’t even have time to reach my office before one of the technical supervisors informed me that several prototypes prepared from our current stocks were waiting for me in a workshop.
I could have postponed it until tomorrow.
I didn’t.
The laboratory occupied part of a building located a few minutes from the manor.
Several engineers were already working when we arrived, and one of them led us to a table where different components had been arranged.
Most were still nothing more than concepts.
A bayonet using a limited amount of angelic material along its functional edge.
Several configurations of short blades.
Components intended for firearms that would still require serious testing before I allowed anyone to distribute them.
I picked up one of the prototypes.
“You started before the meeting with Carmilla?”
The engineer nodded.
“Using existing stocks only.
We wanted to determine what material savings were theoretically possible before receiving the new products.
We haven’t considered anything operational.”
Good answer.
I had no desire to discover that a laboratory had distributed experimental weapons to my soldiers because a drawing looked promising.
My lieutenant examined another component.
“How much material does this design save?”
The engineer began explaining the calculations.
I listened while studying the bayonet.
The general idea was exactly what interested me.
Angelic steel was too rare to waste on portions of a weapon that didn’t require it.
If a blade could retain the desired properties using only a correctly positioned portion of the metal, manufacturing the entire object from the same resource was luxury rather than efficiency.
Of course, that still needed to be proven.
“When Carmilla’s first products arrive, compare your designs against hers.
I want durability, wear, and reliability tests before any significant production.
If something breaks after twenty uses, I’d rather discover it here than in the middle of a fight.”
The engineer nodded.
I put the component down.
“And don’t try to save material simply so you can write a better percentage in your report.
If removing twenty grams makes the weapon ten percent less reliable, put the twenty grams back.”
“Understood.”
We continued the inspection for nearly an hour.
Several ideas were promising.
Others would probably end up in a crate alongside every invention that had seemed brilliant until somebody actually tried to use it.
That was the principle of research.
You tested.
You failed.
You understood why.
Then you tried again with something less stupid.
By the time I finally returned to the manor, night had fallen long ago.
I removed my cap as I entered my office and placed it in its usual corner before sitting down.
An entire day devoted to contracts, inventories, weapons, and a territorial war from which I now hoped to extract a profit margin large enough to compensate for the detours imposed on my convoys.
A perfectly respectable day.
My phone vibrated.
I looked at it.
Charlie.
Naturally.
I opened the message.
> Hi Tanya!!!
❤️
Do you think you’ll be coming by the hotel soon?
We’re preparing lots of new activities and I’ve got a few ideas I’d really love to show you!
I stared at the screen for several seconds.
Then I looked at the files stacked across my desk.
The tunnel reports.
The new contract with Carmilla.
The prototypes.
The territorial war.
And probably thirty other things my lieutenant had been kind enough not to immediately dump in front of me.
I replied:
> Not in the next few days.
I have work.
I’ll come by when I have time.
The answer arrived less than twenty seconds later.
> Okay!!
No problem!
Have a good evening, Tanya!
❤️
I looked at the heart.
Charlie used far too many hearts.
I put the phone down beside the files.
For several seconds, I thought about what Carmilla had said earlier.
Charlie really did attract people who had no apparent reason to remain around her.
Angel was probably the most obvious example.
Alastor belonged in a category of his own.
Pentious was there now.
And, in a particularly irritating development, I had to admit that I was beginning to make that list myself.
I still had absolutely no intention of spending the next few days at the hotel.
For once, Charlie would have to make it through an entire week without dragging me into one of her disasters.
I picked up the first report in front of me and began reading.
With a little luck, she’d manage it.
Even in Hell, sometimes you had to know when to be optimistic.