Filler
The Art of Lip-Reading
Time: 8:45 PM
Location: Molvis Bunti Restaurant, Dark Corner Booth
The terrified waiter scurried away, leaving three steaming cups of plain tea on the dark wooden table. Kniya, Malesh, and Salesh huddled in their secluded booth, their black masks and dark aviator goggles still securely strapped to their faces.
Across the expansive, candlelit dining room, Filoska and Antues Doate were sitting at a private table.
Now, a logical observer might ask: How the fuck are they getting to know what the couple is saying from forty feet away in a loud, crowded restaurant? They cannot possibly listen to low-pitched romantic whispers from that distance.
The answer was simple street-survival. Back when Kniya and Malesh were running the slums of Seistain, they had mastered the exact science of "mouth speaking"—advanced, flawless lip-reading. By simply watching the muscular activity of a person's mouth, they could perfectly translate the dialogue in real-time.
Kniya leaned forward, squinting through his goggles at Antues, and began whispering the translation directly to Salesh.
"Okay, the idiot is opening his mouth," Kniya whispered. "He's saying... 'Filoska, the lighting in here is beautiful, but it pales in comparison to your corporate aura.'"
Salesh rolled his eyes under his goggles. "Gross. Keep going."
Malesh narrowed his eyes, picking up the translation as Antues leaned closer over the table. "Now he is saying... 'Looking past the flesh, into the depths of your being... if your body does not belong to me tonight, your soul always does.'"
The booth went completely dead silent.
"What the actual fuck?" Salesh whispered, his entire body physically recoiling in pure, unadulterated disgust. "Did he seriously just say that?"
"He just said that," Kniya confirmed, gagging quietly. "He's opening his fucking romantic library to impress her, and he went straight for the body and soul dialogue. He is literally telling her that he owns her soul. That is serial killer behavior."
"I am going to throw up," Salesh groaned, clutching his stomach. "That is so fucking disgusting! I am going to shoot the chandelier and drop this fucking shit right on his head! I am not going to listen to this!"
Kniya and Malesh both slowly turned their heads, staring at Salesh in pure disbelief.
"You?!" Kniya hissed. "Salesh, you were literally reading a bright pink romance novel about a Duke crying in a courtyard just two hours ago! I thought you loved this shit! I thought you would talk exactly like that!"
"No, no! I am not like that!" Salesh defended furiously in a hushed whisper. "There is a line! The Duke was wealthy and emotionally conflicted! I don't talk about soul and body fucking things! That is literally weird and shit like that! Fuck this shit. I am going to shoot the chandelier and drop it on him. Fuck this thing."
The Demon Lord's Entrance
Salesh didn't even hesitate. He reached into his jacket, pulled out his heavy black-steel revolver, and cocked the hammer.
"Salesh, no!" Malesh hissed, grabbing for the gun.
"Put that away, you idiot!" Kniya aggressively whispered, trying to wrestle the barrel down.
But it was too late. Salesh yanked his arm free, aimed the barrel perfectly at the heavy iron chain suspending the massive crystal chandelier directly over Antues's side of the table—making absolutely sure Filoska was out of the drop zone—and pulled the trigger.
BANG!
The gunshot deafened the restaurant. Women screamed. Waiters dropped trays of expensive wine.
The heavy iron chain snapped. The massive, two-ton crystal chandelier plummeted directly toward Antues's head.
But before the glass could crush the freight broker into paste, a man suddenly leapt off the second-floor dining balcony. He was wearing a highly detailed, flowing black cape, demonic armor plating, and a full-face comic-style mask.
The man drew a gleaming silver sword mid-air, swung it with surprising athletic force, and violently smacked the falling chandelier. The heavy crystal fixture completely deflected, crashing into a nearby dessert cart in a spectacular explosion of glass and cake.
The masked man landed perfectly on one knee, slowly sheathing his sword. The entire restaurant was completely paralyzed in shock.
The man stood up, adjusting his cape. "Fear not," he announced in a deep, theatrical voice. "I have saved you."
Filoska, covered in a light dusting of powdered sugar, stared at the man in pure shock. Antues, who had nearly just died, scrambled backward. "Who... who are you?!" Antues gasped.
"I am the Demon Lord," the masked man declared proudly. "And I am here to protect the innocent."
Back in the dark booth, Kniya's jaw literally unhinged.
"Oh my god," Kniya whispered, his eyes sparkling behind his aviator goggles. He grabbed Malesh's arm, shaking it violently. "Malesh! Malesh, look! It's him! Please, please allow me to go take his autograph!"
Malesh grabbed Kniya by the back of his shirt and violently yanked him down behind the table, hiding them from view.
"Are you fucking mad or what?!" Malesh hissed furiously, his deadpan face cracking into pure, cynical rage. "He is not a fucking Demon Lord, Kniya! Do you think an actual, magical Demon Lord would carry a cheap metal sword and save a corporate client from a falling light fixture in a expensive restaurant?! It is literally not possible! It's a guy in a costume!"
"But he has the cape!" Kniya begged, peeking over the table. "Please! Just one autograph on a napkin!"
"Absolutely fucking no!" Malesh ordered, holding Kniya down by his collar. "We are not going to intervene in between this after we just caused a massive amount of chaos and committed attempted murder! Stay down!"
The Riverfront Retreat
Over by the shattered dessert cart, Antues was hyperventilating.
"Okay, I think my luck is just so fucking bad today!" Antues panicked, grabbing Filoska's hand. First the fart gas, now the falling glass. He was completely traumatized. "I am really sorry, Filoska, for today! I think we should just go to a near... to some other place! Let's just go to the riverside! Please!"
"Yes! Let's just go!" Filoska agreed, completely abandoning her dignity as they both sprinted out of the restaurant doors, fleeing into the night.
Once the couple was gone, the restaurant remained dead silent, staring at the Demon Lord.
Slowly, the man reached up and pulled his comic mask off.
Kniya peeked over the edge of the booth and instantly froze.
It wasn't a magical being. It wasn't even a dedicated cosplayer. It was the extremely wealthy, highly corrupt Governor of the Seistain Capital District.
"The Governor!" one of the wealthy patrons gasped.
The entire restaurant suddenly erupted into massive, echoing applause, cheering for the Governor who had just "bravely" saved a civilian.
Behind the booth, Kniya was boiling with absolute, unfiltered rage. His hands were shaking.
"That motherfucker," Kniya growled, his voice vibrating with anger. "The Governor? The fucking Governor of the capital was dressed up as my favorite character?! He completely ruined the aesthetic! A corrupt political hack just ruined the Demon Lord's image! I am going to bankrupt his entire campaign!"
"Focus, Kniya," Salesh whispered, holstering his smoking revolver. "They are going to the riverside area. We need to follow them."
"Fine," Kniya seethed, glaring at the cheering Governor one last time. "Let's go."
The Riverside Bench
Ten minutes later, far away from the chaos of the restaurant and the lingering smell of the park, Filoska and Antues finally found a quiet place to sit.
It was a beautiful, serene riverfront area. The water was calm, reflecting the city lights, and the paved walkway was entirely deserted. They sat down on a cold stone bench, both of them breathing heavily, completely exhausted from the most disastrous date in DI history.
Antues hung his head, running his hands through his hair.
"Filoska," Antues sighed miserably. "I don't even know what to say. This has been a total nightmare."
The Dam Bribe
Time: 9:15 PM
Location: The Seistain Riverfront
Filoska and Antues sat on the cold stone bench, staring out at the beautiful, rushing water of the Seistain River.
Ten feet behind them, buried deep in a thick row of decorative bushes, Kniya, Malesh, and Salesh were crouched in the dirt.
"Well, I'm out of ideas," Kniya whispered, pulling his dark mask down slightly to breathe. "We dropped a chandelier and gassed a public park. I think we just have to let them sit by the river. We cannot do anything about it."
"We can do a lot about it," Malesh whispered back, his voice completely cold and pragmatic. "I know everyone in this area. I own the political infrastructure. And I have personally bribed the federal officers who are operating the upstream dam. I am going to close this river right now."
Kniya stared at him. "You are going to turn off a fucking river?"
Malesh didn't answer. He just pulled out a heavy, encrypted satellite phone and dialed a direct line.
"Seistain Hydro-Dam Control. Officer speaking," a voice answered on the other end.
"Close the dam," Malesh ordered flatly. "I want this river to be completely dried up. Close this dam right now, you fucking idiot."
There was a panicked pause on the line. "Sorry?! Sir, it is not possible! Please, releasing or holding that much water requires federal clearance! I know you are a high-net-worth individual, but I cannot just turn off a major waterway!"
"Oh, you fucking individual, just get the thing right the first time," Malesh sighed, deeply annoyed by the existence of laws. "Listen to me. Move out of your control office right now. There is a guy standing outside by the lower spillway with a black motorcycle and a heavy duffel bag containing exactly five million credits in untraceable cash. Take that amount and close the fucking dam."
There was the sound of a chair scraping, footsteps, a door opening, and the heavy unzip of a canvas bag.
"...Okay, sir," the officer breathed heavily into the phone. "Fuck the rules and regulations. I am going to close the dam."
A loud, distant, mechanical CLUNK echoed from miles upstream.
Within exactly four minutes, the beautiful, rushing water of the Seistain River completely stopped flowing. The water level plummeted, leaving behind a massive, ugly, muddy trench filled with flopping fish, old shopping carts, and wet garbage. The romantic ambiance was instantly annihilated.
On the bench, Filoska and Antues stared at the massive mud pit in sheer, absolute confusion.
"What the fuck?!" Antues yelled, standing up. "Where did the river go?! Did someone steal the river?!"