The streets of the Doomsday District weren't exactly welcoming. Smoke billowed up from crumbling buildings and the sky glowed a sickly red from the flames of distant explosions.
This part of the city was in constant war. It used to belong to an overlord once, but after a certain incident it's not run by any overlord, a free-for-all district, if you will.
Charlie walked fast, Dazzle floating anxiously by her side. She muttered to herself, more to vent than to think.
"I can't believe him. That absolute jerk!" she huffed, kicking a loose rock across the cracked pavement. "Just because he's got that dark, melodic voice or that—" she stopped herself, groaning as she rubbed her face. "—that stupid twelve-pack and those arms and… okay, no, I'm getting off-topic."
Dazzle chirped softly, his little body glowing faintly as if trying to calm her.
"Ugh. After what he said last night, and how we were actually bonding, I thought…" she sighed, her voice softening. "I thought we were becoming friends."
Her nose twitched slightly. "No. Forget that jerk. Let's just go rescue Razzle. That's what's most important."
That thought only lasted thirty seconds before she froze mid-step.
"Wait… I only know Razzle's somewhere in an old Overlord theatre… in Doomsday," she realized, eyes widening. "But where exactly? This place gets blown up every other day!"
Her heart sank a little. For all her optimism, even Charlie couldn't deny how huge and dangerous this district was. She bit her lip, looking around, debating whether to ask one of the nearby demons for directions, but before she could, an imp in a dark pinstripe suit stepped out of an alleyway.
He was grinning, a little too smugly, as he held out a folded letter in his clawed hand.
"Princess Charlie Morningstar," he said smoothly, tipping his hat. "The boss wants a word. He's been expecting you, if you want your little friend back, that is."
Charlie stiffened. "Where is he? What have you done with Razzle? I swear, if you've hurt even a—"
The imp raised a hand, cutting her off with a toothy smirk. "Relax. Nothing's gonna happen to the little thing. If you follow me, that is."
Dazzle let out a low, growl-like hiss, his eyes glowing slightly, but Charlie put a hand out to calm him. She hesitated for a heartbeat, then nodded. "Fine. Lead the way, Mr—"
"I'm a woman," the imp snapped.
"..."
"Oh... sorry. Lead the way then, Miss."
As she followed, she couldn't help glancing back toward the direction of the Prince's apartment — just for a moment. Then she turned away. She didn't need him. Not anymore.
Dazzle stayed close to Charlie, his eyes sharp and scanning every corner. If things went wrong, he was ready to transform and get her out, even if that meant leaving before they could get Razzle.
Eventually, they reached a large building that stood out like a polished gem in a pile of rubble.
The old Overlord Theatre.
Surprisingly intact, with ornate carvings and gold trim that still glimmered faintly through the grime. It was way too clean for this district, which could only mean one thing: someone powerful was keeping it that way.
The imp pushed the door open and gestured inside. "After you, Princess."
Charlie straightened her jacket and stepped in.
The theatre's grand lobby was dimly lit by flickering chandeliers. The floor was polished white marble, cracked in places, but the massive portraits on the walls had been restored with care, each depicting powerful demons from ages past.
Seated casually on the stage, lounging in a velvet chair, was a tall shark demon with sleek blue-gray skin, a white mohawk fin, and a gold snaggletooth that gleamed whenever he smiled.
"Ah, Princess Morningstar herself!" he said cheerfully, standing up and spreading his arms. "Welcome, welcome! My sincerest apologies for the… confusion. My boys weren't supposed to snatch your little critter. But, well, once we realized we'd crossed royalty—" he chuckled, sharp teeth flashing "—there was no turning back, eh?"
Charlie frowned but kept her tone polite. "You don't have to worry about that. I'm not here to start a fight. Just return Razzle, and we can put this behind us."
The shark demon sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. "Ah, if only it were that simple. See, I've got a rather… peculiar clientele. And the moment they saw your adorable little friend? Well, let's just say they were ready to pay top soul."
Charlie's eyes widened. "You sold him?!"
"Now, now, let's not be hasty," the shark said, waving a finned hand. "I'm in a bit of a bind here. Unless…" His grin turned razor-sharp. "You could offer something more substantial."
"What do you want?" Charlie asked grimly.
He pretended to think, rubbing his chin. "Hmm… let's see. How about an Asmodean crystal, some land rights in Pentagram and Imp City, and—oh, I dunno— 500 million souls? Sounds fair, yeah?"
Charlie stared at him in disbelief. "You're bleeding me dry! I don't even have that authority or money, only my dad does!"
He shrugged. "Then, I guess we've got a little problem, princess. Because if you can't give me those things, well, you can say goodbye to your little friend."
Charlie panicked. "Please. Can't you see what you're doing is wrong? You don't have to do this. I don't believe people are just bad, I know Hell isn't… the easiest place to make a life, but I believe you can be better than this."
Her voice trembled slightly, but there was conviction there: the same hope that drove her to build a place for sinners. The shark just blinked at her. His men snickered around him.
Charlie took a deep breath. "You know what? Maybe words aren't enough."
She stepped forward and began to sing.
Her voice reverberated through the theatre — beautiful, clear, powerful, and full of emotion. It wasn't about bargains or threats. It was about compassion, forgiveness, and a belief that even in Hell, there was something worth saving.
For a fleeting moment, it seemed the demons around her were actually thinking that what she had said was true... but before she could even finish, mocking laughter filled the room.
"Hahahaha!!"
"Is this Chalk skinned bitch for real?"
"Hah~she's gonna give me a hernia! Haha!"
The shark demon threw his head back and cackled, clutching his stomach. His goons followed, jeering and mocking her, the sound bouncing off the walls and right into her ears.
Charlie's voice faltered.
She stood frozen on the stage, her eyes drooping, the light in them dimming just a bit.
It reminded her of all the times she'd tried, the reporters who laughed, the sinners who sneered at her, even her own father, who she thought would support her. And… even Prince.
Maybe they were right about her.
The shark demon's laughter faded, replaced by a cruel smile. "Cute performance, Princess. But I think playtime's over."
He turned to his men, already bored of this farce. "Grab her."
"With pleasure, boss."
The thugs smiled, pulling out demonic Tommy guns and angelic ropes that glowed faintly with holy energy.