Max had spent the last few days settling into the hotel.
He helped where he could—fixing broken furniture, repairing walls, reinforcing weak structures, and generally making the place feel more alive again.
His wounds had healed nicely.
Angel weapons still left a sting in his memory, but physically, he was back to normal.
While he hadn't gotten significantly closer to Charlie or Vaggie yet, things were… improving.
Slowly.
Naturally.
More importantly—
He had gotten permission to use the kitchen.
Which meant tonight was important.
A proper dinner.
A date.
Max rolled up his sleeves, looking over the ingredients he had gathered.
"Alright…"
"Steak. Potatoes. Asparagus."
He nodded.
"And a special anti-hangover fruit drink."
He smirked.
"Because I know at least half of them are going to need it."
He was just about to start prepping—
When a magic circle lit up beneath his feet.
Bright.
Sharp.
Instant.
"…Fuck."
Before he could react—
Reality twisted.
Max landed in a dark, damp basement.
Stone walls.
Faint torchlight.
A summoning circle beneath him.
And standing in front of him—
A face he hadn't seen in a long time.
But would never forget.
Blunk Frugi.
Head of the eastern branch of the mafia family from Max's human life.
The same family that betrayed him.
Max's expression didn't change outwardly.
But internally—
Something cold settled in.
"…Well," he thought, "this is convenient."
Blunk looked him over, unimpressed.
"You're new."
He frowned.
"This was supposed to summon a demon named Malfo."
He waved it off.
"Whatever. You demons are all the same."
Max tilted his head slightly.
"I wouldn't go that far."
Blunk ignored the comment.
"I have a job for you."
Max smiled faintly.
"Of course you do."
He folded his arms.
"What do you want… and what's the payment?"
Blunk leaned back confidently.
"I need you to play music for me and my guests."
Max blinked.
"…That's it?"
"I just got married," Blunk continued. "And I want the best."
Max couldn't help it.
He laughed.
A low, amused sound.
"You summoned a demon… for live entertainment."
He shook his head.
"Humans really don't change."
Blunk's expression hardened.
"Do the job."
Max shrugged.
"Fine."
He summoned a violin into his hand.
"I'll play."
He paused.
"But first… payment."
Blunk smirked slightly.
"You demons don't care about money."
He gestured, and one of his men brought forward a small vial filled with red liquid.
"I have something better."
Max's eyes narrowed slightly.
"The blood of Jesus."
For a moment—
Everything went quiet in Max's head.
He stepped forward slowly.
Took the vial.
Inspected it.
"…You're serious."
The energy radiating from it was unmistakable.
Holy.
Ancient.
Powerful.
The kind of thing that could rewrite entire systems of power.
Blunk shrugged.
"I have no use for it."
Max smiled.
"…You just made this worth my time."
He tucked the vial away carefully.
"Alright."
"Let's give your guests a show."
Max was led upstairs to an overlooking balcony above the main hall.
The party below was lavish.
Filled with mafia elites.
Influential figures.
Corrupt power players.
And—
Her.
Lisa.
His former girlfriend.
Standing beside Blunk.
Dressed elegantly.
Smiling.
Like nothing had ever happened.
Max's grip tightened slightly on the violin.
"…Of course."
The party began.
Max raised the bow.
And started playing.
The music was…
Perfect.
Beautiful.
Mesmerizing.
Every note carried precision, emotion, and control far beyond human ability.
The entire room fell into a trance-like admiration.
They were captivated.
Entranced.
Exactly as Max wanted.
Because hidden beneath the melody—
Was something else.
Max infused the music with the essence of sin.
Not subtle.
Not gentle.
Amplified.
Gluttony.
Wrath.
Lust.
Greed.
Envy.
Sloth.
Pride.
All woven into the sound.
At first—
Nothing happened.
Then slowly—
It began.
One guest started eating uncontrollably.
Another began arguing.
Another drew a weapon.
Then—
Violence.
Chaos.
Blood.
The entire room spiraled.
People turned on each other.
Screaming.
Fighting.
Killing.
All while the music continued.
"Stop it!" Blunk shouted. "Demon, stop!"
Max didn't stop playing.
"I was told to play until no one could stand," he said calmly.
He tilted his head slightly.
"And you interrupted me."
His eyes glowed faintly.
The music shifted.
Darkened.
Those who fell began to rise again.
Necromancy.
The dead stood.
Eyes empty.
Bodies moving.
They turned on the living.
The massacre escalated instantly.
The room became a slaughterhouse.
Blunk stumbled backward, panicked.
"You—what are you—?!"
Max lowered the violin slowly as the last notes echoed.
"I delivered exactly what you asked for."
He looked over the chaos.
Satisfied.
"Entertainment."
He turned slightly, preparing to leave.
"Now…"
He paused.
A faint smile forming.
"…I'd say farewell."
His gaze lingered briefly on Lisa.
"…Though…"
He chuckled softly.
"Do I really want to see my ex in Hell again?"
He thought for a second.
"…Actually…"
His smile sharpened.
"I think my girls would enjoy meeting her."
With that—
Max vanished.
He reappeared back in Hell.
Back in the hotel kitchen.
Like nothing had happened.
He rolled his shoulders slightly.
"…Well."
"That was productive."
He looked at the ingredients still laid out.
Then smirked.
"Now…"
"Back to cooking."