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Death Can't Spell And I Have a Very Long Name!

Alistair Cornelius Archibald Fitzgerald Reginald Maximilian Pendragon the Third, of the Northumberland Pendragons Sushi, has three goals: Get rich Stay alive Never think about his dead family again Two out of three isn't bad. Orphaned at three, raised by a grandmother who saw the future and didn't like what she found, Alistair survived childhood through a combination of protective magic and sheer spite. His name isn't just absurd, it's a weapon. Each syllable is a ward against cosmic forces that marked him before birth. The only problem? When he actually died as a child, Death started filling out his intake paperwork, got bored halfway through writing his name, and just... forgot about him. Now seventeen years later, Alistair is a small-time acquisitions specialist (thief) working for a criminal organization that definitely doesn't know he's technically immortal due to bureaucratic oversight. They want him to retrieve a stolen artifact that contains fragments of primordial creation energy. Easy job. Good pay. Terrible consequences if he fails. But the artifact is more dangerous than advertised. The people hunting it are more ruthless than expected. And Death just realized there's incomplete paperwork with Alistair's name on it, which means eventually, inevitably, someone's going to have to write out that entire ridiculous name. Death would rather break cosmic law than deal with that. A dark fantasy comedy about ambition, survival, and why bureaucracy is the real cosmic horror.
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