The two walked out of the shop and made their way back to the car. She smiled and gave him a knowing look. "See? Kindness works after all. You didn't need to resort to violence!"
She turned to Prince with a triumphant smirk. "You said we'd have to use force, but look at that—we got what we needed through good manners and a smile!"
Prince didn't move for a second. He just stared at her, then spoke. "He didn't talk because of you being kind."
Charlie blinked. "…What?"
Prince pointed a claw at her head. "He talked because he's afraid of your father. Not you. Not your kindness or manners."
Charlie's smile faltered, her eyes falling. "…Oh."
For a moment, she stood there quietly. But then she forced herself to nod and stood tall again. "Well… afraid or not, we still got the information. That's what matters."
Prince's visor buzzed faintly like a smirk. "Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night. Come on, let's go…"
---
The streets of Pentagram City weren't safe. They never were.
Charlie knew that, but walking them now beside Prince drove the point home. A sinner got his head caved in with a pipe right in front of them before they walked past his corpse. Someone else was setting fire to a trash can, laughing as the smoke rolled into passing shops. A pack of demons wrestled over a wallet in the gutter.
Charlie hugged her suitcase tighter. "…Is it always like this…?"
Prince glanced sideways, his visor pulsing faint purple. "What'd you expect? Lu Lu World?"
She frowned. "I didn't expect… this much nonsensical violence."
"This is the default. They're immortal, after all. Sinners at that. There's a reason why they're down here and not up there," he said. "Murder, theft, assault. This is what they are. What feeds their boredom of immortality."
Charlie stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. "They're people who made mistakes."
Prince turned fully to face her now. His voice rumbled through the vox. "They're sinners. They're down here for a reason. Look around you. Do you see saints?"
Charlie shook her head, frustrated. "Do you think I don't know where we are? I'm not stupid. But I also know regret is real. Guilt is real. If someone down here wants better—why can't they at least try? Or hell, be given an opportunity?"
Prince let out a short laugh. "Try? Princess, this is their afterlife. They had their shot up there. They blew it. They don't get a second chance."
"That's not fair."
"It's Hell. Fairness here died the day sin came to Earth."
Charlie scowled. "That's your answer to everything, isn't it? 'It's Hell.' Like that makes it okay for people—people who, yeah, may have done some more than fucked-up shit—but still—"
Prince tilted his head. "And your answer is 'they can change.' Do you have proof? Or is it just blind faith? And better yet, what makes you think they even want to change? What if they like things the way they are? What then? Why do you believe they can change?"
Her voice cracked a little. "Because I have to believe in it! If I don't, then what's the point of me even trying to… what the hell would I be fighting for if not my dreams?!"
Prince fell quiet. She caught her breath and looked away, embarrassed at how much she'd let out.
Dazzle looked between the two but decided not to say anything.
"…You've never lived like them," he rasped. "You've never fought over scraps. You've never had your ribs broken because someone liked your coat. You've never had to kill someone for a bed."
Charlie hugged her arm. "I… I guess not. I've always had a place I can call… home. But that doesn't mean I can't understand them. It doesn't mean I can't try."
Prince's tone sharpened as he shook his head. "Try all you want, but don't pretend you know what it's like to live their lives." He gestured around. "This is their eternity. Every second is survival. From the moment they fall, they can only rely on themselves. There is no redemption. Only who's strong enough to keep going. Trust me, if they wanted to live, you wouldn't find a single sinner out on the streets on extermination day…"
Charlie's chest tightened. It wasn't the first time someone had told her she didn't understand, but hearing it from him stung more somehow. "So what, you think every single soul here deserves this forever? No exceptions?"
Prince's answer was immediate. "Yes."
She blinked at him. "…That's an awful way to think."
"That's the reality, Princessa."
Charlie shook her head, hair swaying. "You sound like everyone else today. Naïve. Stupid. Crazy. That's all I keep hearing. And you know what? I don't care. My dream matters to me. Even if no one believes in it. I believe in it."
Prince's visor glowed faintly brighter, as if amused. "…You really aren't going to give up on this endeavor, are you?"
"Not a chance. Not on my people. Not on my friends. Not on Razzle. Not on anybody if I can help it. And giving up isn't in my vocabulary."
Prince didn't bother to give her a reply, not with words, at least. Instead, a demon jumped from behind her. He caught it before she noticed, snapping his blade out and stabbing the demon.
The corpse slowly slid down the wall.
Charlie spun around and gasped. "You didn't—ugh, you killed him!"
Prince shook blood off his wrist. "He was aiming for your throat."
"You could've just knocked him out!"
"I could've. But then he'd come back later with friends."
Her hands balled into fists. "You don't have to be so ruthless!"
He stepped closer, voice dropping so low it did slightly unnerve her. "And you don't have to be so soft. You're paying me to find your friend, not to be nice."
For a moment, they just stared at each other.
Then she saw the blood trailing down his arm. The fabric was shredded, and his skin there was gashed.
Charlie's eyes softened. "…You're hurt."
"It's nothing."
"It's not nothing." She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward a busted bench. "Sit."
"Princessa—"
"Sit!"
"..."
He sighed but sat. She tore her suitcase open, pulling out a first-aid kit. Her hands worked fast but gentle, cleaning the wound, wrapping it with bandages that looked comically cheap in contrast to his armor—especially the rainbow stickers that read Get Well Soon.
Prince stared at his bandaged arm, his visor dimming ever so slightly.
"..."
They stood in silence for a moment, broken only by the sound of Dazzle coughing, bringing the two back from their little staring contest. Prince stood, flexing his arm. "Good enough."
"You're welcome," she huffed.
He adjusted his visor. "Now we know your friend's alive. We have around three days to find him before the auction. Best chance is to sneak in and out without drawing any attention, but first is finding where and when the auction is."
Charlie nodded, clutching her suitcase.
"For now," Prince continued, "we make some plans of action… you got anything scheduled?"
She hesitated. "…Just waiting on an email. That interview I probably bombed." She muttered that last part, but he heard.
"Then you're clear. Good."
"..."
"That's all you have to say?" she asked, annoyed. "No 'you'll get it'? No 'chin up, Princess'?"
"Encouragement doesn't change facts."
She groaned. "You are the worst pep-talker ever."
Prince ignored her, heading to his car. "Come on."
"Where?" she asked, running to keep up.
"My place. North-East Side."
Charlie blinked. "You have a place?"
"Yes."
"Like… with furniture?"
"..."
He chose to ignore her for the rest of the way.