Dalton sat across his boss on a long cafeteria table. Normally, the office cafeteria was a place where seats were scarce, but people took one glance at Malcolm, their faces became pale and they avoided their table like the plague.

“I wonder why no one is sitting with us?” Dalton had a bad feeling.

His boss didn’t seem to care, continuing his onslaught on the buffet of food in front of them. There were piles of empty plates to the left of him. He was currently using a loaf of bread to sponge some bacon grease. Then, horrifically, he stuffed the full loaf in his mouth.

“At least chew.” Dalton’s eye twitched.

Malcolm held up a finger, while he proceeded to pop a hole in a watermelon and suck it dry. It made Dalton’s stomach churn to see such overwhelming gluttony. He had eaten enough for a platoon, yet he kept on going.

Finally, after finishing his third chicken, he blew out a satisfied burp.

“So.” Malcolm appraised him while he picked his teeth with his fingernail. “You’re the new anchor Eira has sank me with. Let me be clear, you won’t change me.”

“O-okay.” Dalton wasn’t following.

“That woman is out to get me.”

“Okay.” Dalton glanced at the door. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but is it alright if I just leave now?”

Malcolm took out a revolver and pulled the hammer. A woman who saw it screamed gun. Everyone in the cafeteria ran in pandemonium.

Malcolm licked his lips. “You’re not going anywhere. You understand!”

“Okay.” Dalton slowly sat back down. His eyes focused on the barrel of the gun.

“Good. Now, you tell me what Eira is planning.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Then he added. “She hasn’t told me anything other than you’re supposed to train.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right? She doesn’t just go out of the way to put a newbie on me. Just like the woman she set me up with that transformed into a weregorilla when she looked at the moon and smashed my favorite whorehouse. Or the other woman she set me up with that tortured me to get me in shape but tried to kill me when she found out that I was sleeping with her sister. Or the other woman she set me up with that was secretly an assassin that destroyed my second favorite whorehouse. I know her game!”

“You do see the pattern, right? Those are self-inflicted wounds,” Dalton said.

“Yeah.” He leaned in. “They were all set up by Eira.”

“You were cheating on them other people! Everything you did was your fault!” Dalton snapped.

“She’s sending me a curveball, because I know her game. She assigns a subordinate. We get to know each other. We go to a whorehouse, give each other high fives, and I start to like you. Then it turns out you destroy my current favorite whorehouse!”

This man was hopeless.

Dalton placed a hand on his chest and said in a very monotone voice. “I promise I won’t destroy your favorite whorehouse.”

He didn’t seem convinced, but he withdrew his gun. “If you do, I will use Sebastian here, and hell shall rain down on you.”

“Can I leave?”

“Go!”

That night, Dalton took the time to look for a new job.