Chapter 11: Electrocution and Employment

A sudden burst of wind slammed into the floorboards, forcing a jagged splintering noise to erupt beneath my feet. If I were made of flesh and blood, I would have exploded into gore. A deep crack tore through the wooden floor between my feet, stretching like a scar until it smashed against the wall behind me. I looked down at the narrow crevice between my shoes, then tilted my gaze back at the man, the so-called boss.

His hand was still extended, fingers stiff and sharp like a blade.

“I guess that’s a no…” I muttered under my breath.

The brute holding Nira didn’t flinch, but Jandar took a step forward, still radiating power. “Little girl,” he growled, voice low and grating, “you better behave yourself… or you’re gonna get hurt.”

Nira turned to me with wide and alert eyes. The fear was still there, but something else had replaced the hollow emptiness I’d seen since I last saw her. There was willpower, instinct, and a desire to survive in her eyes. I had no idea what had happened during the time we were apart, but something inside her had changed. She wasn’t the same girl who refused to speak or eat. 

“What do we do now?” she asked.

“Just wait outside by the door, I will be done shortly…”

I launched myself at the man gripping her wrist. The moment I touched him, I felt the familiar pull and snapped into his body like a switch flipping. Instantly, I released Nira. Her wrist dropped from my hand, and she shot forward to the door. The door burst open under her weight and slammed against the wall with a violent crack.

The boss scowled, his attention shifting from her to me. “Ollie,” he said, dragging the syllables. “What in nine hells was that?”

Stabs narrowed his eyes, stepping back. “Boss… I don’t think that’s Ollie anymore.”

I could feel it then as tiny sparks danced across my forearm, little pinpricks of static flickering against my skin. A low buzz hummed in my head. It was electricity. Ghost powers, right? Yeah, that had to be it… I remembered every bad horror flick I watched and every cheap documentary I’d written fake stories for. Ghosts got weird powers tied to how they died. It sounded stupid back then. Not so much now.

Ken whimpered behind me. “W-what’s happening?”

The boss didn’t wait for an answer. With a sudden whip of his arm, another razor wind howled toward me. I dove to the side, but not fast enough. My right arm was lopped clean off, the air pressure slicing through flesh like butter. Pain flared white hot through my nerves, and for a moment, I thought I’d black out. But… Instead, the pain felt muted, like static over a TV screen. I stared at the stump, spewing blood all over the place.

Weirdly, I didn’t panic.

“I guess there is nothing more painful than death, and that’s why this feels rather mundane to me…”

I funneled the pain into my remaining hand. Sparks arced across my fingers, growing stronger with each breath. I focused everything into that limb, my mind latching onto the surge of energy building in my palm. “How about an introduction?” I asked. “I mean, we are all civilized people here-”

Then I let it loose.

The lightning bolt burst from my hand like a cannon. It tore across the room as a streak of pure white-blue energy that hit the ‘boss’ dead center. The force knocked him off his feet. For a second, he stood with a perfect hole in his chest, staring at me like he still didn’t understand what had just happened. Then he collapsed forward. His body hit the ground with a dull thud, unmoving.

“Huh,” I said, blinking. “I didn’t catch his name.”

I turned my attention to the now-useless left arm. It was charred black and pretty much useless. Apparently, this ghost power had a cost.

My gaze moved to the rest… Ken was already sitting in a puddle of his own piss, trembling. Stabs wasn’t much better, though, to his credit, he still stood upright.

I gave them a nod. “So… Stabs and Ken, right?”

Stabs didn’t answer. He was staring at the corpse of his boss, then at me, like trying to make sense of what just happened.

I smiled faintly. “What do you think about a business opportunity?”

Ken whimpered.

Stabs tightened his jaw, but didn’t speak.

“Please,” I said, casually brushing ash from my shoulder, “call me Renzo. From now on… You work for me.”

“What do you mean?” Stabs asked, his voice shaky, but not broken. I couldn’t tell if he was playing cautious or genuinely confused, but I didn’t let that stop me.

“I’d hate to continue the brand of evil this guy specialized in,” I said while giving the corpse a casual kick. The body remained unmoving, of course. “But I can use this organization’s resources. Clearly, there needs to be a change in management.”

I turned and settled onto the oversized, fur-lined chair Jandar had claimed as a throne. Sitting there felt oddly natural, comfortable even. I rested my one barely functioning arm on the wide wooden armrest, leaned back, and felt comfortable for a good second.

“What even was this guy’s name?” I asked, gesturing vaguely at the bald corpse sprawled out like yesterday’s laundry. “Can you tell me about your boss?”

“Jandar,” Stabs replied after a beat. “He was… called Jandar. Used to be an adventurer.”

“Figures,” I murmured. “What else?”

“He’s ruthless, and for a time, he’d held notoriety in the field for always killing the opposition. Now, he’s the leader of the sole operating gang here in Enmar, the boss of Twinfist Gang…”

I could feel a headache building behind my temples. Ugh… The adrenaline from that lightning blast was starting to wear off. The edges of my vision fuzzed a little. Maybe I was pushing things too far. I gestured at the body I was still occupying. “This one’s Ollie, right?”

Stabs nodded. “Yes.”

“Patch him up. Tie down the stump before he bleeds out.”

Stabs scrambled to a cabinet near the wall and rummaged through its contents. He came back with a bundle of rags, a relatively clean bandage, and a dagger. Without a word, he dropped the dagger’s blade onto the floor to avoid any misunderstanding, and then he brought the sheath to me. His hands were steady as he twisted the makeshift tourniquet into place, the sheath pulling the dirty cloth tighter until the blood flow slowed.

“I… I don’t think Ollie will make it,” Stabs muttered without looking at me. “He’s lost too much blood.”

That was probably true. Yet, even with the pool of red forming beneath, I felt… disconnected. Not indifferent, just detached. I didn’t want poor Ollie here to die, but I wasn’t about to lose sleep over it either. “Do it anyway.”

Stabs obeyed, finishing the job with the kind of grim efficiency only experience can teach.

“This is what’s going to happen,” I said, straightening in the chair, ignoring the blood still dripping from Ollie’s arm. “Save Ollie here if you can. If he dies, then too bad. Anyway, the important part is this… you're in charge now.”

Stabs stiffened, clearly not thrilled, but he didn’t protest.

“But don’t mistake this power for your own,” I continued. “You answer to me, and only me. I don’t care how you keep your people in line. Just make sure they stay there.”

He nodded once, sharply. “I understand. If you tell me to jump, I only need to know how high.”

I raised a brow, mildly impressed. “Quick to understand. I like that.”

Stabs waited, already beginning to shift from henchman to handler.

“One more thing,” I added, voice low. “No one touches the silver-haired girl. If I need anything from you, I’ll find you.”

Before he could reply, I pulled out of Ollie’s body. The moment I left, the poor guy convulsed, choking on a ragged gasp as the pain finally caught up to his nerves. His back arched, and he screamed.

I didn’t stay to watch.

Phasing through the wall, I then emerged on the other side where Nira waited, hugging her knees beside the door. She stood the moment she saw me.

“Renzo!”

She looked relieved, even if her shoulders were still shaking. I gave her a nod and extended a hand. It phased right through hers.

Nira blinked at the empty space where contact should’ve happened. I stared at my hand like it had betrayed me. “Right,” I muttered, withdrawing it. “Ghost.”

Together, we headed down the hall. None of the ruffians lingering in the shadows made a move to stop us. A few glanced our way, but quickly looked back down, more interested in their dice, drinks, or whatever passed for priorities around here. Apparently, nobody had heard the boss just got got a smoking hole in his chest.

Not a single one of them spared a second glance at the silver-haired girl walking beside me, clueless about her value. Their loss. It wasn’t like they could stop me, either.

We stepped through the front door without resistance. I didn’t even need to say “boo.”