The growl vibrating in the old imp's chest slowly fizzled out. He looked down at the pile on the counter, his eyes narrowing as he took in the loose wallets and vapes.
Swallowing a defeated sigh, the old demon swiped the entire pile behind the counter in one motion.
"You want to talk about sinners? Fine. What do you want to know?"
"I heard someone down the road call them a special headache. What exactly makes a sinner a bigger pain in the ass to deal with than anyone else down here?"
"Yup!"
The old imp, dementedly exclaimed as he jumped onto a chair. Fiddling with one of the vapes Felix had brought, he randomly launched into a rant.
"They drop down with no respect, no brains, nothin'! You spend decades buildin' a clean racket and drawin' lines, just for some greenhorn asshole to blow up the block to show off."
He stopped, turning the plastic vape over in his clawed hand with a look of profound confusion. Poking at the mouthpiece, he squinted into the small opening to discern what narcotic it could possibly be.
Finding no answers, he tossed it onto the counter with a disdainful snort.
"And why? Just cause they damn well can. Only upside is they're the whole reason there's any real profit. They ruin the neighborhood, sure, but no cash flows without 'em."
Felix stared flatly at the old imp, a sigh passing through his chest.
The imp ranted about how much he hated sinners, yet his clawed hands hadn't hesitated for a second to swipe Felix's stolen vapes and wallets.
He recalled the days of his former life, remembering a bitter truth to the world.
Whenever an impoverished district was inundated by a crowd of rowdy, rich outsiders, the local residents invariably loathed the sudden chaos brought to their doorsteps.
As painful as it was to come to terms with, there was little that could be done. Their entire livelihood depended on the cash those outsiders dropped, which was often little more than indirect scraps.
Piece by piece, the messy puzzle started coming together in his head.
Taking into consideration everything he had just heard, combined with how they behaved, Felix found his thoughts naturally bridging the gap.
The way the imp talked about sinners dropping down out of nowhere, bringing their specific vices, and reckless habits with them—it all pointed toward a likely conclusion.
In short, sinners were just humans who had died.
It closely fit with the basic ideas of Christianity he had learned, making it a perfectly fair assumption to work with.
He had died and woken up here, and now thousands of others were apparently doing the exact same thing, bringing their massive buying power and mindsets into the afterlife.
'Could they also have a system?'
He had to resist the urge to bite his nails when forming that thought.
"So when they drop down, do they just wander around lost, or do they seem to know exactly what they're doing?"
The imp closed his eyes for a moment, then shrugged.
"Hell if I know."
'Damn it.'
Felix's new body had fingernails, but he was unsure if it was a great idea with his track record involving his teeth. He couldn't stop thinking about it.
What if other people had systems? What if they had something even better?
"If they're the ones responsible for cash, where do they usually end up spending it? There's got to be a spot nearby where they dump their wallets."
The old imp let out a rattling laugh, finally hopping down from his chair.
"They're up in the higher parts of town. Somewhere you definitely wouldn't survive. You don't have the muscle for it, and you sure as hell don't have the money."
He crossed his arms as his expression shifted into something more pitiful.
"Look, I'll give you a free piece of advice. In a dump like this, it's easier to just find a big fish, work for 'em, and eat the leftovers. It's better than getting your head kicked in."
"Those punks who tried to get the jump on you in the alley? They weren't just random bums, ya know. Find a boss to back you up. Unlike us imps, you sinners actually have a chance to climb that ladder."
For obvious reasons, the words of the imp pissed Felix off. The idea of settling for scraps and being a lackey for anyone almost made him reach out and punch the imp to the floor.
Of course, he couldn't do this literally, so he settled for his imagination.
"Work for a big fish, huh?"
Felix muttered as if considering the option.
"Well, if it's the only way I'll stay alive."
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught his reflection in a mirror and paused to take himself in.
He had to admit, he looked both unique and undeniably cool. If he dressed better, he could easily pass for a big shot.
"Hey, you sell clothes?"
"Course. You got souls?"
Flashing a grin, Felix answered without hesitation.
"Nope! But I think I have other things worth your while."
He stepped behind a shelf, breaking the view the two had.
Coming out a moment later, he held a jumble of odd items in his hands. Out of everything, the Imp's gaze instantly locked onto a badly cracked phone.
Eyeing him with some intensity, the old imp turned around.
"Gotta check if we even got anything that'll fit your frame."
"I'm fine with larger clothes."