Liquidation: From Big Boss to Bloody Demon Sauce Chapter 13: Chapter 13: Human-Like Craft

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Digging into the depths of my business acumen and strategic planning, an idea sparked. I might not have been the same man I once was, but my cunning and cutthroat skills in business were still intact. Engaging Grimora with aggression would lead nowhere—neither did I possess the brute force nor any secret weapon. The Bihound was a strong asset, but it was currently depreciating. Every scratch and bite it took from Grimora's minions was a loss in my overall capital. I needed to stop the hemorrhage. What I did have, and what no demon in this hell-bound realm possibly could, was a sharp mind and a skill for negotiation. As the Bihound held off the remaining demons, I took a gamble facing Grimora. Summoning the most commanding voice I could manage, I addressed her. "Grimora, are you so desperate to prove your might that you would send your minions after a 'pitiful puddle'?" Her striking face contorted in anger, yet I could tell that I had hit a nerve, but I didn't stop there. "Are you really happy being stuck in the Dark Glade? You know that you are no more than a pet for Luriel to do what she would like with, right?" "Shut your mouth!" Grimora yelled, but she didn't order her demons to attack me directly. She was listening. Grimora’s eyes narrowed at my words, her body stiffening. It locked her in silent contemplation for a moment, a moment that was enough to make her question her deeply rooted beliefs. Using those seconds to my advantage, I probed further. I needed to exploit the fear Luriel had instilled in her. "Have you ever thought about how your life could be if you weren't bound to follow the commands of another? If you held command over your own existence? Look at you. You are a progenitor of demons, yet you flinch at the wind because you think Luriel is watching. She manages you through abuse and fear. That isn’t leadership. That's a hostage situation." I knew the type well from my previous life. She was middle management—given just enough authority to feel superior to those below her, but kept on a short enough leash to be absolutely terrified of the executives above. You don't fight middle management; you offer them a promotion. The shift in her demeanor was immediate. Her confident facade crumbled under the weight of my proposition. Watching Grimora's bewilderment, I found a renewed sense of power surging within me. The Bihound stepped up behind me, its two heads letting out a low, rumbling growl that shook the glowing green dirt of the glade, adding physical weight to my words. As an experienced businessman, I understood the art of negotiation and the likelihood of turning the odds. In my past life, I'd dealt with powerful women, ones who had swallowed their pride and bowed to a deal when it was strategically crafted. I was sure that no matter the realm, the essence of survival remained the same. For the moment, Grimora was not a succubus trying to kill me; she was a potential ally. Someone beneficial. “There is an alternative,” I said, “If you deem yourself worthy. And no, it hasn't to do with asserting control over a hapless blob of Ether.” With a triumphant feeling, I watched as Grimora looked back at me, her face a mask of confusion. The oppressive sulfur air of the glade seemed to hang still around us as she processed the pitch. Behind me, the Bihound snapped the neck of a goblin-creature with a wet crunch, tossing the carcass into the underbrush. Grimora didn't even glance at her fallen minion. Her attention was entirely monopolized by the deal on the table. “An alternative? What could you possibly offer me, you pathetic stain," she sneered back, but even in her mockery, the curiosity in her voice was palpable. The last of her confidence seemed to drain away, indicating a clear victory for my proposition. With that invitation to elaborate, I couldn't help but feel an intense gush of satisfaction that my gamble had paid off. Though the fight behind me had painted a dire picture just moments ago, this small victor