Chapter 249: The Customer Is Occasionally a Snake

Renn locked himself in a room with a snake-sized maintenance vent, which was the first helpful contribution he’d made to the evening. The officer hit the door as I reached the wall, and I checked that there was no fan behind the grille before slipping through as mist.

[System: You checked for the spinning death bit, mate; that’s personal growth, and we didn’t even need a motivational podcast from some cunt renting a Lamborghini.]

Save the speech for my funeral, because I want everyone thinking I was one useful lesson away from becoming unbearable. I formed on the counter while Renn tipped the case above the open floor hatch, where rushing water waited to carry the register into a treatment channel beyond the fence.

A tendril beneath the lid pushed it upwards, scattering receipts across the floor instead of the opening. The bound register caught against the broken corner while Renn swung the case at my head, smashing a mug behind me when I ducked away.

Physical immunity remained several minutes out of reach, and my side already hurt before the next swing caught it. I hit the desk beside a falling monitor, then rolled clear before he could bring the case down on the place where my head had been.

"You could try cooperating, because I’ve had a long night and your furniture isn’t making either of us look better," I told him. He said I could have taken money instead, which seemed like a strange complaint from a man who hadn’t offered any until his office became a fight.

He grabbed the register and threw it towards the hatch, forcing me to catch it with a smoke claw. The effort took enough attention that his boot struck my middle, driving me against the desk leg and loosening my grip before I could pull the book onto the counter.

It landed half on the grate with the other half above the water, leaving me one careless movement away from losing what we’d chased across the city. Renn lunged for it again while I considered how quickly a proper bite could end the whole conversation.

[System: Keep him breathing, champ; an audit lets you ruin his life during office hours, and you can spend the saved effort taking the fairy somewhere with proper fucking chips.]

You’re offering revenge with weekends free, and I resent how well you understand my long-term career goals. Orin’s receipts lay beside the hatch, and I pulled them clear before choosing where to bite, annoyed to discover that they mattered more than the choice.

When he reached for the register, I climbed his arm and wrapped above the elbow, forcing his wrist towards the wall. His shoulder followed because it preferred to remain attached, and the shout that came out of him suggested we’d finally reached a subject he understood.

He struck at me with his other hand, so I caught that wrist with a tendril and guided him towards the counter. The impact stopped the argument without ending his breathing, giving the officer outside time to demand that somebody open the door.

"I’m dealing with a customer who keeps refusing to accept the terms, but I’ll have him ready in a moment," I called. Renn’s knee buckled near the hatch, and I pulled him sideways before he could fall into the water and turn a good outcome into a much larger problem.

He offered me a percentage while I pinned his arm, so I asked for ninety and watched him start calculating. I let him reach the hopeful part before explaining that I meant years, then lifted the door bolt while he called me a fucking animal.

The officer entered and told me to release him slowly, keeping her attention on his free hand while her partner moved to help. I eased my coils away only when the cuffs closed, then pulled the register clear of the grate before either man could step on it.

[System: Ask for a receipt before they take him away, mate, because if he’s going into storage, he’ll want to know whether we charge by the day or by the arsehole.]

I’d rather let him discover the rates when he tries calling customer service, because I suspect he’ll be spending plenty of time on hold. Outside, Bridget gave the attendant water while her driver gathered loose pages for the officers, keeping them beneath a folder instead of letting the wind choose the order.

Renn began explaining contractor rights and misunderstandings as they led him out. The attendant interrupted by stating exactly where the knife had been held, making the whole defence sound much less useful before Rook even reached the office door.

She checked the register’s collection numbers and altered consent records before bagging it. Renn demanded a receipt for the seized property, and the attendant started laughing with the shaky relief of somebody finally allowed to find part of the night funny.

"Storage fees apply, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy the chance to challenge them during office hours," I told him. The officer taking him away failed to hide her smile, which improved my opinion of public service considerably.

Rook asked where the struggle had begun, and I showed her the wet grate before anyone moved the scattered papers. The officer inside photographed the case, the open hatch and the damage around the desk while Renn complained that none of us understood his business.

"I’ve spent two days learning it, and the main lesson seems to be charging people for problems you created yourself," I told him. He asked for a lawyer instead of answering, which was the first service request he’d made that I thought might help him.

Bridget returned my visibility clip with Cherry’s paper flag still tucked beneath it. She read the instruction about hot women, declared herself qualified to process the return and kissed the scales beside my mouth. For once, I kept my clever answer to myself.

I was still enjoying the warmth when her phone rang and the colour left her smile. She turned the screen towards me, showing my photograph beneath the name of a private security firm and a fresh notice offering money to anyone willing to bring the red snake in alive.