Author note 1: One chapter a day until Saturday.
After that, we’ll go back to 1, 2, or even 3 chapters a week.
The final publication schedule will be set in a week or two, once I see how I’ll be organizing things.
I had considered canceling the visit exactly three times.
The first when my alarm went off.
The second when my coffee arrived.
The third when I saw the car waiting for me in front of the manor and realized that I was actually going to leave the peace and quiet of my domain to cross a good part of the Pride Ring in order to visit a hotel dedicated to the rehabilitation of sinners.
That third hesitation had lasted a little longer than the others.
I stood at the top of the manor steps, one hand resting on the railing, while a large black sedan waited in the middle of the courtyard.
It was nothing extravagant compared to the vehicles some Overlords used to announce their presence from three districts away.
No horns on the hood, no decorative flames, no obscene statues or paint bright enough to cause an epileptic seizure.
Just a perfectly maintained black body, a few dark metallic elements, and tinted windows.
I had bought the first version several decades earlier.
Since then, almost every one of its parts had been replaced at least once, the engine had been changed three times, and the body had survived two shootouts, one explosion, and an accident involving a truck full of demonic pigs.
I still refused to replace it.
At this point, it was a matter of principle.
The soldier assigned to drive was waiting near the front door.
Like all the others, he wore his long charcoal-gray coat, black trousers tucked into high boots, and a steel helmet without the slightest insignia.
The mass of shadow that served as his face revealed only that eternal mouth filled with sharp teeth that had scared away enough visitors for me to have long since stopped keeping count.
Beside the rear door stood my lieutenant.
Same uniform, same impossible face, same smile, with the only difference being that his helmet had been replaced by an officer’s cap.
I walked down the steps while mechanically adjusting my gloves.
The lieutenant opened the door.
“Commander.”
“Lieutenant,” I said with a slight nod.
I stopped before getting in and looked at the two soldiers, then lowered my eyes toward my own outfit.
Dark uniform, polished black military boots, a cape over my shoulders, and a military cap.
I slowly raised my eyes toward them again.
For several seconds, no one spoke.
“You know, now that I think about it, perhaps we didn’t choose the most reassuring appearance for visiting an establishment dedicated to redemption.”
The lieutenant did not move.
“Should I change uniforms?”
I looked at him, imagining the idea of him simply going to put on something more casual produced an image absurd enough in my mind that I abandoned it immediately.
“No.
Forget it.”
I settled onto the back seat.
The lieutenant sat beside me and closed the door while the driver returned to his seat.
A few seconds later, the car left the courtyard and took the road leading toward the main gate.
I watched the manor grow distant through the window.
It would only be a simple visit.
Charlie had been very clear.
I had agreed to no partnership, no contract, and no participation in her program.
I had not even promised to publicly support her idea.
I was simply going to observe her hotel, meet its residents, and determine whether the Princess of Hell possessed anything more concrete than enthusiasm capable of wearing down my patience.
In theory, nothing particularly complicated.
In practice, I had learned over the course of my different lives that a sentence containing the words “nothing particularly complicated” generally came before a disaster.
I crossed my legs and took out a small file resting in the inside pocket of my cape.
I had done some additional research.
Not much.
I refused to spend an entire night investigating a hotel I had not yet decided to take seriously, but arriving completely ignorant would have been even more stupid.
☆
Charlotte Morningstar, known as Charlie.
Daughter of Lucifer Morningstar.
Founder of the Hazbin Hotel.
Partner of Vaggie.
Official project: rehabilitation of sinners in order to allow them access to Heaven and provide a solution to the Exterminations.
☆
On paper, it remained completely insane.
I turned the page to consult the residents and staff members, who were much more interesting.
Angel Dust.
Pornographic actor, criminal, drug addict, and the establishment’s first real rehabilitation subject.
I had reread that part twice to make sure I had not missed anything.
The Princess of Hell had therefore chosen as her first candidate for heavenly ascension a drug-addicted porn star connected to organized crime.
Charlie had to be given credit for a certain amount of ambition.
The next one was:
Husk.
Bartender.
Former Overlord.
That detail had immediately caught my attention.
I had heard his name in the past, although we had never had any reason to meet directly.
His current status was far less prestigious than the one he had once possessed, and the information regarding the exact circumstances of his downfall was contradictory enough that I preferred to wait until I saw him myself.
Niffty.
“Insufficient information.”
I frowned because that was rarely reassuring.
I turned another page and finally found the name that truly interested me.
Alastor.
The Radio Demon.
My thumb remained against the edge of the paper for a few seconds.
Him, I knew.
Not personally, but we had simply existed long enough in the same city to know each other’s reputations.
His arrival in Hell had been difficult to ignore.
At the time, I had already begun establishing my own position when several older Overlords suddenly disappeared.
The stories had spread quickly, then their screams had begun being broadcast over the radio.
A particularly effective method of communication.
I had appreciated the principle, much less the individual behind it.
Alastor was powerful, unpredictable, and seemed to consider a large part of his existence a form of personal entertainment.
Exactly the kind of person I had learned to avoid when no concrete interest justified a meeting, and he was now helping Charlie manage a redemption hotel.
Really weird.
I closed the file.
“The more I learn, the less this place makes sense.”
The lieutenant turned his face slightly toward me.
“Should I consider the establishment a potential threat?”
I looked at him.
“No.”
He waited.
“Well, probably not.
But if a short woman with one eye tries to climb on you, don’t shoot.”
The lieutenant remained perfectly still.
“Why would she attempt to climb on me?”
“I have no fucking idea.
Her file contains only three lines.”
He slowly nodded, as if that explanation made the situation perfectly logical.
I put away my documents.
The rest of the journey passed in pleasant silence.
The closer we got to Pentagram City, the more the landscape changed.
The forest surrounding my domain gradually gave way to busier roads, then the first outlying constructions.
Glowing signs reappeared, followed by advertisements, questionable businesses, and that chaotic architecture Hell seemed to consider perfectly normal.
I watched the city pass behind the window.
I did not hate Pentagram City.
I had lived there for a long time.
I still owned several businesses and a few properties there, and a significant portion of my income still came from activities located within its boundaries.
I simply preferred to appreciate it from a distance.
An explosion sounded in a parallel street but no one on the sidewalk reacted.
I smiled slightly.
After all the time spent in Hell, some things never changed.
At a traffic light, a green-skinned demon approached the car and tapped on the driver’s window.
He seemed to want to sell something.
The soldier slowly turned his face toward him.
The salesman saw the smile and immediately stepped back.
Then he looked through the rear window and saw me.
He stepped back again.
By the time the light turned green, he was already on the opposite sidewalk.
“Excellent customer service,” I commented.
The driver did not answer and we continued.
The reactions became more frequent as we moved through the city.
The car itself was not remarkable enough to attract attention.
The problem mainly appeared when a passerby caught sight of the driver or recognized the discreet emblem placed on the door.
A demon stopped a conversation in the middle of a sentence.
A woman pulled her companion by the arm to move him away from the road.
Two men in front of a bar followed the car with their eyes until it disappeared behind us.
I had never really appreciated that part of my reputation.
But fear was useful and avoided an enormous number of problems.
But there was a difference between wanting people to respect your boundaries and seeing strangers wonder whether they were about to die simply because your car had turned into their street.
Fortunately, not everyone seemed to know my face.
When we slowed because of an overturned vehicle in the middle of the road, two young sinners were standing in front of a shop.
One of them looked at our car, probably saw my silhouette through the partially open window, and elbowed his friend.
“Hey, who’s the kid with the cap?”
His companion followed his friend’s gaze and went pale.
His hand immediately closed around the first one’s shoulder.
“Shut the fuck up.”
“What?
But—”
“Your.
Fucking.
Mouth.”
I looked away to hide my smile.
Now that was already more amusing.
The lieutenant, meanwhile, had turned his head toward them.
I gave him a slight elbow.
“No.”
He immediately turned back toward the road.
“I had received no order.”
“I know.
That’s exactly what’s starting to worry me.”
A few minutes later, I finally caught sight of our destination and leaned slightly toward the window.
“Oh fuck.”
The photographs did not do it justice.
The Hazbin Hotel had clearly been designed by someone who had declared war on the concept of discretion.
The building rose above the surrounding structures in an extravagant mixture of red, black, and gold.
Signs, oversized windows, and an almost aggressive amount of decoration immediately drew the eye.
I had seen military fortresses that were less visible.
At least no one could claim they had trouble finding the address.
The car slowed in front of the entrance.
And, obviously, Charlie was already waiting outside accompanied by Vaggie.
The princess spotted us before the car had even completely stopped.
Her smile immediately became enormous and she walked down the few steps separating her from the street.
“You came!”
I looked at her through the window, confused.
I had clearly said I would come.
Apparently, my simple ability to keep an appointment already counted as an exceptional achievement in this establishment.
The driver got out of the car and Charlie stopped when he straightened to his full height.
Her gaze rose to the helmet, then lowered toward the mouth filled with sharp teeth.
She recognized him and waved.
“Oh!
Hello!”
The soldier inclined his head.
“Princess.”
Vaggie, standing a few steps behind, briefly closed her eyes.
“Great.
Now they recognize her.”
The driver walked around the car and opened my door.
I stepped out while adjusting my cape, then turned when the lieutenant got out on the other side.
Charlie immediately looked at his cap.
“That one is different!”
The lieutenant turned his face toward her.
I held back a sigh.
“He’s a lieutenant.”
“Ah!”
She moved slightly closer, clearly fascinated.
“So the cap indicates rank?
Are there several different ranks?
Because yesterday I only saw the ones with helmets and I was wondering how they organized their chain of command if—”
Vaggie placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Charlie.”
The princess stopped.
“Yes?”
“At least let her get out of the car.”
Charlie looked at my boots, one of which was indeed still next to the door.
“Oh!
Sorry!”
She quickly stepped back, and I finally finished getting out of the car.
“Thank you.”
Vaggie gave me a look that strongly resembled a silent apology.
I was starting to understand why this woman always looked tired.
The soldier closed the door behind me.
“Wait here,” I ordered him.
“If someone tries to steal the car, stop them.”
“Lethally?” the soldier asked.
Charlie abruptly turned her head.
“No,” I replied.
The soldier inclined his head.
“Understood.”
Charlie looked at me.
“Does he always ask?”
“I’ve learned from experience that it’s better to be specific.”
“Ah.”
She seemed to hesitate to ask why.
Vaggie gently squeezed her shoulder.
For once, Charlie decided not to dig deeper.
The lieutenant came to stand at my right before I gestured toward the entrance with my hand.
“After you, Princess.”
Charlie’s face immediately regained all its joy.
“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!!”
She opened the doors with an enthusiasm that would have been more appropriate for inaugurating a palace.
I entered and all conversations stopped.
I came to a halt a few steps inside the entrance.
The lobby was large, colorful, and much warmer than I had expected.
Several couches occupied the center of the room, a bar stood to one side, and omnipresent red decoration was clearly trying to remind everyone that they were still in Hell despite the establishment’s particularly optimistic purpose.
Naturally, it was the occupants who caught my attention.
A white-and-pink spider demon was sprawled across a couch.
Behind the bar, a winged cat stared at me with a bottle in his hand.
And near a table stood a small cyclops woman who had stopped what she was doing to stare at me.
Her pupils settled on me, then on my lieutenant.
I immediately remembered her file and its three fucking lines.
Shit.
Charlie entered behind me.
“Everyone!
This is Tanya Degurechaff.
She’s here to visit the hotel and—”
“Wait, wait, wait.”
The spider demon had straightened up.
Angel Dust.
Even without the file, it would have been difficult to mistake him for anyone else.
He placed two of his hands on the back of the couch while a third pointed in my direction.
His gaze moved from my uniform to my cap, then stopped on my lieutenant.
His lips slowly stretched.
I knew that expression.
Someone was about to say something stupid.
“Okay… can someone explain why the creepy kid just showed up with the demonic version of the Waffen-SS?”
The silence became remarkable, with a slight hint of discomfort.
Charlie’s eyes widened.
“Angel!”
Vaggie immediately put a hand to her face.
“Fucking hell, Angel…”
Behind the bar, Husk froze with his bottle a few centimeters from his glass.
My lieutenant did not react at all.
As if the words had entered one ear and gone out the other in the same fraction of a second.
I slowly lowered my eyes toward my uniform, then looked at my lieutenant’s outfit.
Finally, I raised my head toward Angel.
Unfortunately, I could not even pretend the visual association was incomprehensible.
“They wear no political insignia.”
Angel raised two hands in innocence.
“Hey, I said ‘demonic version.’ I was trying to be precise.”
I crossed my arms.
“Your historical rigor is admirable.”
A delighted smile appeared on his face.
“Thanks, doll.”
“That was not a compliment.”
“Even better,” the spider chuckled.
Charlie looked back and forth between Angel and me as if she were trying to determine whether she needed to intervene before a murder occurred.
Husk finally spoke without taking his eyes off his glass.
“Angel, maybe avoid pissing off the Overlord with magical artillery in the first five minutes.”
Angel turned toward him.
“Oh, come on!
I’m breaking the ice.”
Husk poured his drink.
“Yeah, well, she can break the building.”
I turned my head toward him and he finally raised his eyes toward me.
We observed each other for a few seconds.
I knew that face.
More tired than in the old descriptions, certainly much more alcoholic, but there was no doubt.
“Husk,” I said with a nod.
His paw tightened slightly around his glass.
“Degurechaff.”
Angel looked at Husk with one eyebrow raised.
Then me, then Husk again.
“Wait.
You know each other?”
“By reputation,” I replied.
Husk took a long drink.
“That was already more than enough.”
I smiled, showing my canines.
“Feeling’s mutual.”
He raised his glass in my direction.
I returned the gesture with a slight nod.
For the moment, the bartender had just become the most reasonable individual in this establishment.
Which was probably not a good sign considering he was likely drunk most of the time.
“OOOOOOH!”
The high-pitched scream immediately made me turn my head.
Niffty was no longer near the table.
She was in front of my lieutenant.
I had not seen her move despite being an Overlord.
Even he seemed not to have anticipated it.
She moved around him at an impressive speed, examining his coat, his boots, his cap, and especially his face.
“He has no eyes!”
She passed in front of him.
“And no nose!”
She moved behind him.
“But he has lots of teeth!”
The lieutenant slowly turned his head to follow her.
Niffty planted herself in front of him, raised her face, and he lowered his.
Their two smiles ended up face to face.
I suddenly felt a discomfort that several battlefields had never managed to provoke.
“Can I touch?” the small woman asked.
The lieutenant turned his head toward me.
“Commander?”
I looked at Niffty.
She already had her hands raised toward his cap.
I seriously considered intervening.
Then I remembered all the times my soldiers had remained perfectly impassive in front of explosions, dismemberments, and artillery fire.
A small hyperactive woman represented an interesting opportunity to test their psychological limits.
“Permission granted.”
The lieutenant stared at me.
At least, I assumed he was staring at me.
“Understood.”
Niffty let out a delighted squeal and literally climbed onto him.
Vaggie looked away.
Charlie brought her hands in front of her mouth to hide her laughter.
Angel made no effort at all.
“Oh fuck, she adopted him!”
“I didn’t adopt anything!” Niffty protested from the lieutenant’s shoulder.
She grabbed the edge of his cap.
“He’s just too cute!”
I looked at my lieutenant.
Two meters of dark silhouette, a mouth full of fangs, and enough physical strength to tear a car door off.
Cute.
I think that was the exact moment I gave up all attempts to understand this establishment’s aesthetic standards.
The lieutenant slowly turned his face toward me.
“Commander.”
“You were given permission.”
“Understood.”
I almost detected reproach in his voice.
That was…
fascinating.
After all the time I had spent with them, it was the first time I had heard anything other than their usual voices.
I was going to have to make a note of that.
“Niffty!” Charlie called, trying to regain at least some control.
“Maybe leave our guest alone.”
“But he doesn’t even move!”
“That’s exactly what worries me,” Vaggie muttered.
Angel had moved closer and was also examining the lieutenant.
“So, handsome, you really got nothing under that helmet except a mouth?” he said in a voice that sounded like flirting?
The lieutenant did not answer.
Angel turned toward me.
“Does he talk?”
“Yes.”
“And?
Why isn’t he answering me?”
“He probably has nothing to say to you.”
Husk choked on something behind his glass.
Angel placed two hands on his hips.
“Okay, that was personal.”
“We have known each other for approximately four minutes.”
“I have that effect on people,” the spider replied proudly.
“I’m starting to notice.”
Charlie finally stepped between us with a smile that was far too wide.
“Okay!
Now that everyone has met—”
“Not quite, Princess.”
The voice came from behind me.
The slight radio static accompanying it was enough to identify its owner before I even turned around.
The lobby seemed to subtly change.
Not by much, honestly.
Angel kept smiling.
Husk kept drinking.
Niffty was still hanging onto my lieutenant.
But something in the atmosphere had just tightened.
I turned while remaining straight.
Alastor stood near the staircase.
Tall, thin, dressed in red, his cane in hand and that permanent smile exactly as wide as in my indirect memories.
His eyes settled on me and his smile seemed to gain a few more millimeters.
“The famous Devil of the Red Sky.
What an unexpected pleasure!”
I let my gaze travel over his silhouette.
The Radio Demon.
Still that smile.
Still that unpleasant sensation that every word spoken in front of him risked becoming a source of entertainment.
I had never understood people like him.
Personally, I needed a book and coffee to have fun.
“Alastor,” I said in a neutral tone.
He placed one hand against his chest.
“I’m touched.
You remember me.”
“You broadcast the screams of several Overlords over the radio for years.
You were difficult to forget.”
Angel had moved closer to the bar.
“Oh, this is starting well.”
Husk handed him a glass without even asking.
Alastor let out a laugh accompanied by a brief burst of static.
“And you!
Your reputation has also preceded you for a very long time.
The Devil of the Red Sky finally leaves her little fortress to visit our humble establishment.
I must say Charlie continues to provide us with wonderful surprises.”
I glanced toward Charlie and saw her standing straight.
She was smiling proudly.
“I just asked.”
Vaggie crossed her arms.
“Several times.”
“I was VERY persuasive.”
“Sweetie, you begged her just to come to the hotel.”
Charlie blushed.
“I did nooot beg!”
I looked at Alastor.
“She begged.”
“Tanyaaa!”
Alastor burst out laughing.
Charlie briefly buried her face in her hands.
I was finally beginning to understand why some demons spent time in this place.
It was entertaining.
Alastor descended the last few steps and approached.
His gaze briefly passed over my lieutenant, still accompanied by Niffty, before returning to me.
“I must admit that I’m curious.
You have never been particularly known for charitable activities.”
“I’m not here to do charity.
I’m here because the princess piqued my curiosity.”
“Oh?”
His smile did not change, but his eyes became slightly more attentive.
“Now that is even more interesting.”
I held his gaze.
“Don’t get excited.
I haven’t yet decided whether all of this is an interesting experiment or a massive waste of time.”
“Why choose?”
I raised an eyebrow slightly.
Alastor spread his arms toward the lobby.
“Both can be wonderfully entertaining.”
I let out a small laugh.
“I see some things really refuse to change.”
“You flatter me, my dear.”
“That was not my intention.”
His radio laughter echoed again.
Angel raised his glass with a chuckle.
“She does that to everyone, apparently.”
“I’m beginning to like her,” Alastor declared.
“I advise against developing bad habits,” I said, rolling my eyes.
Charlie suddenly clapped her hands.
“Okay!”
Everyone turned toward her.
She stood in the center of the lobby with the determined expression of someone who had finally regained control of a situation that had escaped her within the first thirty seconds.
“Now that introductions are done, we can start the tour!”
I looked at my lieutenant.
Niffty was still on his shoulder.
“Almost all the introductions,” I said, keeping my gaze on Niffty.
Charlie followed my gaze.
“Niffty.”
“What?!”
“Maybe you could get down.
Please.”
She made a small disappointed noise but obeyed, sliding down the lieutenant’s coat before touching the floor.
She raised one finger toward him.
“I’ll be back.
Hehehe, bad boy.”
The lieutenant turned his head toward me.
“Should I consider that a threat?”
Husk set down his glass.
“Yes.”
I looked at the bartender.
“Thank you?”
“You’re welcome.”
Charlie took a deep breath and I saw Vaggie tense up.
I understood why one second later.
“So!
This is obviously the main lobby.
This is generally where we meet in the morning and organize some activities, although we also use other rooms when we need more space, especially because Angel sometimes complains that the exercises take up too much room, and right there you have Husk’s bar, although technically I’d prefer if we reduced alcohol consumption a little because it’s not necessarily ideal for rehabilitation, but we’re working on it, and behind there is—”
She was off.
There was no other word to describe what was happening in front of me.
Charlie did not simply begin a guided tour.
She launched a verbal offensive that would have shut up my former superiors in the Empire.
I followed her through the lobby while she pointed out every door, every hallway, and practically every piece of furniture that might have a function.
A question about the common room triggered an explanation about group activities, which became an anecdote involving Angel, which reminded her of a workshop idea she wanted to organize, which led her to explain why Vaggie considered that idea dangerous.
Vaggie walked behind her with the resigned expression of a veteran who had long since accepted that some battles could not be won.
We climbed the stairs.
“And upstairs there are the rooms!
Obviously we’re not going to visit all of them because they’re private and I really want the residents to feel at home here, it’s super important, because if someone feels like they’re constantly being watched they’ll never really open up and work on themselves, well I suppose some minimum amount of supervision is sometimes necessary because Angel has already—”
I looked at Vaggie and met her gaze.
I moved slightly closer.
“Yesterday, you told me you get used to it.”
“Yes.”
“You lied.”
She held back a smile.
“Maybe.”
Charlie turned around while continuing to walk.
“Do you have a question?”
“None.”
“Great!
So right here—”
And she was off again.
I let out an amused sigh.
Strangely, it did not annoy me as much as I had imagined.
Charlie talked a lot.
Far too much.
No, I mean really, really a lot.
But unlike most individuals who monopolized a conversation, she did not seem to do it to draw attention to herself.
She was simply incapable of containing her enthusiasm when a subject mattered to her.
It was exhausting…
But in a very sincere way.
The tour continued.
I asked a few questions about their program, mainly when Charlie left enough space between two sentences for me to get one in.
The answers were sometimes surprisingly thoughtful and sometimes so naive that I wanted to ask whether she had actually lived in Hell her entire life.
And yet, I noticed something else.
Details.
Angel passed by us at one point with two glasses.
He placed one in front of Husk without being asked anything before walking away while throwing an obscene remark at our group.
Husk insulted him, Angel gave him the finger.
Nothing extraordinary in itself, except that he had asked for nothing in return.
Later, Niffty picked up several objects that had fallen from a shelf after she crashed into Vaggie at full speed.
She put everything back in place, even cleaned the dust around it before running off to find my lieutenant.
Again, nothing extraordinary.
For the most part, those were ordinary behaviors.
That was exactly the problem.
Hell was not devoid of all cooperation.
There were friendships, couples, families, and even genuine loyalties.
I would have been stupid to claim otherwise after all these decades.
But acts completely devoid of self-interest remained rare enough to be noticed.
And Charlie was apparently trying to turn them into a habit.
I still did not know whether that meant anything or perhaps nothing at all.
A demon could bring someone a drink and remain a perfectly irredeemable asshole.
But I had come here to observe, so that was what I did.
I observed.
Nearly an hour later, we had returned to the lobby.
Charlie turned toward me, hands clasped in front of her.
She had spoken for an amount of time that would probably have required several bottles of water from a normal person and yet still seemed full of energy.
“Sooo?”
I slowly removed my gloves.
“So what?”
“Well…
what do you think?”
Vaggie stopped beside her.
Angel and Husk were back at the bar.
Niffty had found my lieutenant again and was now examining his boots.
Alastor stood a little farther away, leaning against his cane with obvious interest in my answer.
I looked around.
The lobby…
The residents…
And Charlie.
I had seen enough to begin forming an opinion.
But she probably was not going to like it.
“I think your method is a mess.”
Charlie’s smile wavered.
“Oh.
Haha…”
“You have no reliable system for measuring individual progress.
Your objectives are too vague, your experimental sample is catastrophically small, and I have yet to see any evidence demonstrating that behavioral change would actually cause a reaction from Heaven.”
Her shoulders gradually sagged.
Vaggie was now looking at me with a much less friendly expression.
I continued anyway.
“You also seem to be improvising a significant part of your program, your employees clearly do not all share your objective for the same reasons, and I strongly suspect the Radio Demon is here mainly because he finds this entire situation amusing.”
Alastor placed a hand over his chest.
“What an accusation!
That hurts, my dear.”
I turned my head toward him.
“Is it false?”
His smile widened.
“Well…
not entirely.”
I pointed at Alastor while looking at Charlie.
“There.”
Charlie looked at the floor, dejected.
For a second, I wondered whether I had been too harsh.
Then I remembered that she had asked for my opinion.
I was not going to lie to her simply because she was likable.
I slowly put my gloves back on.
“However…”
Charlie immediately raised her head.
“However?”
I looked at Angel, who was now trying to convince my lieutenant to drink something despite the obvious lack of suitable lips.
Then Husk, who was telling him to stop his bullshit.
Then Niffty, who insisted on knowing whether my soldiers could bleed.
Finally, I turned back toward Charlie.
“I didn’t say I wanted to leave.”
Her expression changed so quickly that I almost felt like stepping back when she started bouncing toward me.
“Really?
Like really really?”
“Your method is bad.
That does not necessarily mean your hypothesis is.”
Charlie remained silent.
A Miracle.
I continued before it disappeared.
“I still do not believe you can send a sinner to Heaven simply by teaching them to become a better person.
I have no proof that such a mechanism exists and neither do you.
But I admit I observed enough things today to want to understand exactly what you are trying to cause.”
Her smile returned.
I immediately raised one finger.
“Don’t start.”
She closed her mouth.
It lasted only two seconds.
“But that means—”
“Charlie.” Vaggie placed a hand on her shoulder.
“She said not to start.”
Charlie took a deep breath through her nose.
She genuinely tried to contain herself.
I could almost see the words piling up behind her teeth.
Then she exploded.
“Okay, but if you want to stay a little longer I could show you our exercises in more detail and explain how we try to evaluate behaviors because maybe we don’t have a system as rigorous as you’d like but we still take notes and I could show you Angel’s although some of them are private so obviously we’d have to ask him first and—”
I closed my eyes and took a BIG breath.
Vaggie gently patted my shoulder as she walked past me.
“You get used to it.”
I reopened my eyes and watched her walk away.
“Still not.”
Her laughter reached me from the hallway.
I turned my attention back to Charlie, who was now talking about a trust exercise that had apparently caused a fire the previous week.
I had planned to stay for an hour.
It had already been longer.
And, against all expectations, I still had no particular desire to go home.
That was probably a bad sign.
Or maybe I was simply curious to see how far this gigantic improvised experiment could go before something exploded.
In this hotel, the two possibilities were probably not mutually exclusive.