Cameraman Never Dies

Now, boot up the time machine and crank those gears to the past, when Victor— dashing in his good ol' carriage— lounged like a budget prince. He had his triangular hat tipped at just the right angle, aiming for "serious" but landing squarely in "midlife crisis chic." His eyes, however, were glued to the man across from him.

This man wasn't just a guy; oh no. He was The Guy. He wore a white mask that practically screamed, "Guess what? I know where you hid your embarrassing secrets, and I've got all day to leak them to the world."

Victor's heart did its best impression of a drumroll. Skip, skip, thud— was that the rhythm of his demise? He wasn't sure. He just knew this stranger had the kind of vibe that could make the most hardened mercenary reconsider their life choices and possibly take up knitting. Enjoy exclusive chapters from My Virtual Library Empire

The masked man lounged like he owned not just the carriage but probably the road and maybe even the horses pulling them. One arm dangled casually out the window, a posture that said, "Yeah, I'm here, and no, you can't handle me." When he finally spoke, his voice was smooth as butter, but colder than a witch's heart in winter.

"Oh… you seem worried," the man drawled, the smugness in his tone was thick enough to spread on toast. "Care to share what's on your mind? If it's about running, don't. I'm only here to chat."

Victor clung to his triangular hat like it might transform into a weapon or, failing that, a comforting blankie. His throat turned into a desert, and his brain had taken the first stagecoach out of town. "Who are you?" he managed to croak, all the while trying to summon the courage to grab his pistol. Spoiler alert: the courage wasn't picking up its phone.

The man tilted his head like a predator sizing up its next meal. "Ah, yes, introductions," he mused, with a pause so long it could've been its own chapter, but couldn't be published due to lack of words. "You may call me… Lucifer."

Victor's instinct was to laugh— because, honestly, who introduces themselves like a drama queen at a masquerade?— but the sheer menace in Lucifer's tone froze the laugh in his throat.

"I have something you want," Lucifer said, his tone as confident as a con artist with a winning hand. "Information."

Victor blinked. "About…?"

"Your enemy," Lucifer replied with a devilish grin that, though hidden by the mask, was unmistakable in his voice. "I've been chasing the same foe for years. And I can give you everything you need to know to destroy them."

Victor perked up. "What's the catch?" He'd played enough poker to know you didn't get a winning hand for free.

Lucifer leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Simple. Work for us to fight the enemy. My organization will hire you. Power, resources, and knowledge would be at your disposal. You'll be almost indomitable."

Victor hesitated, eyeing the stranger like a cat assessing a particularly suspicious-looking box.

Lucifer raised a hand, his voice solemn. "I swear on Veritas, the God of Light and Truth, that the information I speak to you will be the absolute truth... Now, will you work for us?"

Power-hungry Victor took the bait. His greed screamed louder than his common sense. He had nothing to lose since he was familiar with being a hired assassin, and he could return after beating the enemy. And he could get power that money can't buy, the person in front of him was proof of incredible power

"Deal." he did not have to think much.

"Excellent." Lucifer leaned back with the smug satisfaction of a cat who just knocked a vase off the counter. "Let me tell you what you're up against. The Church of Night— it's them. They're the ones who most likely hired your little assassination organization to target the young lady of the Drakonis house. And they've got a shapeshifter under their thumb— goes by the name Alexis. He might be the one you are looking for."

Victor's eyes widened. "A shapeshifter? Are you sure?"

Lucifer nodded gravely. "The very same. This information comes at a great cost. It was a trail of blood and madness that led me here. A dear underling of mine named Satan lost someone close to him. Gruesome, unspeakable. The Church of Night leaves no loose ends. They will erase every scrap of evidence tying them to their crimes, you know about the attack on your organization's branch right? You'll want to tread carefully."

Victor swallowed hard, his mind whirring like an overworked steam engine.

"Oh," Lucifer added offhandedly, standing up and straightening his coat, "one last thing. I will give you a church of night's location that is designated as a target, it is not a dangerous one but tread carefully. And I do not care if it is someone else who goes in your stead. In fact, I support sending someone who could move skillfully around the shadows."

Lucifer held out his hand and a mask similar to his materialized on his palm. "Wear this mask, and think of observing the world— you will become intangible even by the common eye. This is our first gift."

Victor held out his hands like a quirky five year old and took the smiley mask. He did not immediately wear it, something told him not to. His heart stopped beat boxing and started to function normally again.

Lucifer was not done yet, "Just will for the mask and it would appear in your hands, make sure to give one to whoever you are hiring."

With that, Lucifer tipped his black top hat, stood up, made sure his black tailcoat looked the part, stepped forward, and vanished into thin air, leaving Victor with a head full of questions about how deep this went and a slip of paper with the location written, and also a note that read— "Be extra careful, they could watch you at unexpected times".

Victor sat there, clutching the information as though it was a lifeline, not realizing he'd just volunteered himself as Lucifer's pawn.

Lucifer had only sworn to tell the truth about the information, and all he told was the truth, but he did not tell information about the actual enemy Victor was actually chasing— Judge. A slight wordplay in the promise that Victor failed to notice. Effectively turning Victor's attention from chasing more clues regarding the attack to the church of night.

And all this?... It was orchestrated by Judge's script that he wrote after taking an all-nighter in his room with just a lantern and a few papers. Man, talk about commitment.