"It might just be some minor flaws from age. Thank you for polishing it for me," Mephisto said, refusing to admit he had tampered with it.
As long as he didn't admit it, there was no problem.
"Then give me my fee," Morin said, extending his hand without hesitation.
"I didn't ask you to do it," Mephisto's expression changed instantly.
"Heh." Morin tapped the table lightly.
"Then I'll spread the news about how the great Hell-Lord Mephisto got tricked by a mortal-"
"You don't seriously think I care about something that trivial, do you?" Mephisto said dismissively.
"Alright then." Morin stood up.
"Let's go, Duke. I'll extract your memories. Then we'll invest and make a movie."
"What do you think we should call it?"
"The Hell-Lord Who Got Fooled: Mephisto's Little-Known Story?"
"Uh... sounds good?" Duke followed him. "But I haven't studied acting."
"That's fine," Morin said, visibly more excited by the second. "You just need to recreate the scene."
"Don't worry. This movie will be a worldwide hit. Everyone will know your heroic story."
"Wait!"
Just as they reached the door, Mephisto finally spoke.
He didn't want to show weakness.
But he couldn't let them leave.
If this story got out, the damage would be unbearable.
"Did you hear someone talking?" Morin asked, not stopping.
"No."
"Good. Let's go."
"Wait!" Mephisto's face darkened as he stepped in front of them.
"We can talk."
"Oh?" Morin looked at him with mock surprise.
"The famous Hell-Lord Mephisto wants to talk?"
"What do you want?" Mephisto asked directly.
He was done playing games.
He had already realized there was nothing he could do to Morin.
By contract with the Ancient One, he couldn't harm Duke.
And while he could theoretically harm Morin, his power on Earth was too limited.
He couldn't flip the table.
Since brute force was off the table, he had tried trickery.
That was a demon's nature.
But Morin had already seen through it all.
From the start, Morin had been waiting for this moment.
The groundwork was done by the Ancient One.
All Morin needed to do was stand firm.
It was effortless.
And extremely satisfying.
Once every trick failed, Mephisto finally chose negotiation.
He'd take a small loss.
End it cheaply.
"I already told you," Morin said, curling his fingers.
"I want everything."
"Money? Power?" Mephisto asked coolly.
"Money and power," Morin replied greedily.
"With money and power, everything else is easy. I don't really care beyond that."
"I want some magical knowledge."
"And money-" Morin smiled. "You have plenty, right?"
"A billion dollars. That's fine, yes?"
"...Did I hear that right?" Mephisto stared at him.
"You're joking. I'll give you one million at most."
"Why?" Morin asked disdainfully.
"As a Hell-Lord, you don't even have a billion dollars?"
"Isn't money trivial for you?"
"Even if I did, I wouldn't give it to you for something this small!" Mephisto snapped.
"I didn't cause him psychological harm. He broke the contract first!"
"Oh, right." Morin nodded calmly.
"I forgot to mention-your contract was completely illegal."
"You're fully responsible."
"Mr. Duke's actions afterward were self-defense."
"You-ten million. That's my limit," Mephisto gritted out.
"One hundred million," Morin sighed theatrically.
"I'll step back too."
"And magic. As payment for cleaning your mess."
"At least a quarter of what you know."
"Agreed!" Mephisto said immediately.
That was well within his acceptable range.
Money was meaningless to him.
U.S. dollars were useless.
The haggling was habit.
As for magic-
"At least a quarter" left plenty of room to curate.
And maybe add a few surprises.
"Add a little more," Morin said casually.
"No," Mephisto snapped.
"We've agreed."
He pulled out another contract and placed it on the table.
Morin skimmed it.
"The money must be legal U.S. dollars, transferred through lawful channels to my account," Morin said.
"I'll send you the details later."
Duke nodded without question.
He didn't care about the money.
The curse was gone.
That was enough.
"Anything else?" Mephisto waved his hand, modifying the terms.
"And the magic," Morin continued calmly.
"No traps. No hidden effects. No harm. No loopholes."
He added every restriction imaginable.
Mephisto's face darkened.
He had already abandoned the idea of tricking Morin.
This fox was too sharp.
And if he refused, Morin would simply walk out.
"...That's it," Morin said after a long list.
"One last thing."
"...What?" Mephisto asked dully.
"All hidden clauses are invalid," Morin said.
"And-"
He recited the exact clause from Duke's original contract.
Word for word.
Purely to be annoying.
Mephisto's expression twisted.
But he added it anyway.
At this point, leaving it out would feel like losing.
The contract was finalized.
They signed with sigils of power.
Not blood.
Different ritual.
Same binding force.
Morin had learned it from one of Tia Dalma's books.
"Haha. Done," Morin said, waving his hand.
"You can go now."
"We will meet again," Mephisto said coldly.
"Of course," Morin replied.
"You still owe me the magic."
"Within three days," Mephisto said stiffly.
He slammed his cane down.
And vanished.
"...Are you sure he won't retaliate?" Duke asked nervously.
"Oh, he definitely will," Morin said calmly.
Duke: "???"
"That's fine," Morin added. "I'm ready for him."
This was just a warm-up.
The hundred million didn't even count toward experience.
The real harvest would come later.
This was only the appetizer.
"You should go home," Morin said, setting protective arrays on Duke.
"The rest has nothing to do with you."
"Enjoy your new life."
"And don't worry about Hell."
"Heaven will welcome you."
With that, Duke left.
Moments later, the money arrived.
One hundred million dollars.
Clean.
Instant.
Morin smiled as his Traffic Cop profession advanced.
He transferred the money to Duke immediately.
"Isn't this too much?" Duke called.
"I promised you the best motorcycle in the world," Morin laughed.
"It's your reward for tricking a Hell-Lord as a normal human."
"The money's clean. Lottery winnings. After tax."
"...Thank you," Duke said sincerely.
"You're welcome."
"Goodbye, Duke."
"Goodbye."
Duke hung up.
Today felt unreal.
A curse lifted.
Memories restored.
A Hell-Lord fooled.
Speed beyond a hundred miles per hour.
And wealth beyond imagination.
Most importantly-
His father was alive.
Healthy.
Laughing in the living room.
"Dad," Duke said suddenly, "let's go to Hawaii tomorrow."
"What? Where'd you get the money? Aren't you working?"
"Nope. I quit. I won the lottery."
"One hundred million."
"...You're lying."
"Why would I?"
"You've been a liar since you were a kid."
"Well..."
After all-
Someone who could trick a Hell-Lord had talent.
...
Two days later.
"Let's hear it for Johnny Blaze!"
A stadium roared.
Music thundered.
Trucks lined the field with ramps at each end.
Fireworks exploded.
Atop a ramp, Johnny Blaze appeared in full racing gear.
Simple.
Direct.
Pure speed.
One jump.
Across half the stadium.
From ramp to ramp.
The crowd held its breath.
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