“…s …boss? …boss? Boss!” Waking up slowly, Mourn looked over to his second in command with a shallow glare.

“What is it?” Mourn sat up slowly from his lounge chair, staring at the worried blonde.

“Boss, you said I had to wake you when the fourth Demon Lord was killed.” Mourn blinked, remembering everything more clearly now.

He was Mourn, his first name wasn’t really necessary, and his followers called him either Boss or Mister Twenty Three.

Mourn was a Contract Holder with Chronos, the Ruler of Hell, among many other humans who also held the same Contract known as the LEV.

The Contract was that the holder would attempt to kill Chronos, and while he wasn’t stupid enough to try, Mourn could only assume attempting to protect Chronos in some fashion would result in consequences.

To strengthen the abilities gained by the Contract/LEV, one needed to fight and kill other beings, most typically monsters in the Dungeon, which in itself was a gateway between Earth and Hell where Chronos lived.

Much like an RPG, the LEV would grant boosts in power when enough monsters were slain, designated as levels, though how that worked was unknown to Mourn.

In addition, you could tell a Contract Holder from a normal human by the fact that a Contract Holder would possess a tattoo of the word ‘LEV’ on their left wrist.

Underneath said tattoo would be a number that corresponded to the strength (or level) one gained from the Contract.

Okay, enough wondering about common knowledge, now to go a bit deeper…

Mourn was the equivalent of a Mob Boss in the modern climate of Adventurers (aka Contract Holders) and dealing in all sorts of crime.

And this person that just woke him up, Eddie, was his extremely reluctant second-in-command of his yet unnamed criminal empire, though he was still contemplating the term ‘Wonderland’.

“Boss, you zoned out again.” Eddie said cautiously, out of fear of reprisal from Mourn, who switched moods as quickly as a person breathed.

Quite often Eddie could actually find himself joking with Mourn one second, and find himself in threat of loss of limb the next, with nary an understanding to what happened.

And Eddie had checked up Schizophrenia and it was definitely not what was happening to Mourn…

Though Eddie should have known about mental disorders, Mourn also didn’t have Split Personality or anything like that… maybe?

Mourn could be insane as his old ‘home’ made him out to be, but then he could turn and talk shop with their ‘Chefs’ about chemical compounds and how their drugs worked.

And Mourn would understand everything and at times even mention things the Chef’s didn’t consider.

Then he’d cartwheel out the room like nothing happened.

“Eddie… quiet for a moment. I’m ordering my thoughts… little by little… okay. Now disorder once more… there. I’m at a stable level of chaos now.” Eddie stared at the manic grin appearing on his boss’s face as said man limbered out of his lounging chair as if he were boneless…

The entire action was unnatural, and yet graceful, something Eddie had long attributed to being something Mourn did naturally without even noticing.

“Eddie, report on the different sectors.” Mourn’s words snapped off as he himself walked away, Eddie having to follow lest he be punished by Mourn.

“Well, for the drug trade we’ve managed to muscle in on a few independent suppliers and you have a meeting with a big time dealer of cocaine and meth soon.” Eddie did not manage to keep his vindictiveness out of his voice…

Between how Mourn tortured him until he fell ill at the thought of running away, and the fact that Mourn could actually go for other people, Eddie liked pointing Mourn at people he legitimately disliked.

He wouldn’t wish Mourn on an innocent of course, but if they were already annoying…

“Then when it comes to the arms trade, with all the weaponry you procured from your victims we managed to get a stable start, we are using one of our clean guys to start up a gun-shop legitimately.” Mourn nodded, finally getting into the kitchen.

Making himself some milkshake, Mourn motioned for Eddie to continue talking.

“Arms trading will probably swap back to older weaponry considering the Dungeon and Blacksmiths, so knowing this; we managed to recruit about five or so Blacksmiths.” Eddie’s bit of foresight got Mourn to lessen the amount of abuse he sent his way.

Mourn wondered if Eddie was realizing what was happening to his mind, becoming dependant on Mourn’s approval, and should the opposite occur the pain would get Eddie to realize it was much better to have Mourn happy.

Not to mention that Mourn rewarded Eddie based on said results, using money, lighter drugs, and the occasional woman in Mourn’s employ.

Most of those women were psychotic and dangerous to some extent, but there were a few more down to earth which Eddie hung out with.

Mourn also considered that Eddie might actually start a relationship one day, in which case Mourn would quit with the latter reward.

“And finally, in terms of the group in general, every member has broken the level ten barrier, with the average level being around fifteen.” Mourn scoffed slightly, ignoring his own milk mustache.

No one would dare call him out on looking funny, though one or two might point it out.

Eddie didn’t dare, knowing that Mourn actually wanted someone to point it out. It was good as volunteering to be a torture victim.

“That’s pitifully low considering who we are challenging… but it’s better than nothing.” Mourn complained with a sigh, looking over the warehouse he was currently staying in.

“Eddie, we need to get everything ready… In the long term, our enemy isn’t other gangs but those people who are deemed the strongest… the Chosen.” Mourn was a strange one, if he did something, he aimed for the best…

If he was going to be a Contract Holder, an ‘Adventurer’ he would be the strongest, indisputably.

Eddie felt sorry for the Chosen… especially the American one.