Veildark Records: The Melody of our sins

1. A complicated meeting

As Kain entered and closed the door, a sense of relief washed over him. The clamor of gears and industrial chaos outside had finally ceased, allowing him to focus on more important sounds. The harmonious yet discordant noise he had heard outside? Just an electric guitar being played deeper inside the record label. Kain and his crow, Greasy, now stood in the reception area of Veildark Records. The atmosphere was calm, with soft jazz playing in the background-though it was difficult to hear over the guitar. The walls were painted a deep red, and noise suppressors were strategically placed on the walls, ceiling, and even the floor. A few potted plants served as simple decoration, and a large poster next to the reception desk advertised Kain's first concert, held over seventy years ago in a now-defunct Pentagram City gym. The poster showed the same smiling Kain, still wearing-impressively-the same suit.

At the reception desk sat a demoness with her pink hair in an updo, wearing a white tank top that accentuated her neckline and black cargo pants. Her eyes were closed, and she stomped her bare feet on the ground, practically dancing in her chair. With a headset on, she was completely absorbed in the music from an MP3 player clipped to her waist, lost in her own world as if the rest of reality didn't exist.

Kain folded his cane and tucked it inside his suit, walking over to the reception desk. He placed his hands on the counter, feeling the texture, but the demoness didn't seem to notice his presence.

"Cinder," Kain said, trying to get the receptionist's attention. She didn't hear him and merely turned her back to him.

"Caw... She's listening to music, Kain. She won't hear you. Let me handle this," Greasy said, flapping his wings and hopping onto her legs.

Cinder Lune felt the touch of the bird's claws on her pants and opened her eyes, revealing purple irises that sparkled like sapphires-an extravagant contrast amidst the red-toned environment.

"Aww, Greasy! It's great to see you," Lune said, stroking the crow's head. Greasy cawed back without even opening his beak.

Then a thought hit her. Wait, if he's here, then... Cinder slowly turned around and came face to face with the rhythm demon.

"Good afternoon, Miss Cinder Lune," Kain said, a mischievous smile forming on his face. "Are you doing your job well?" His words appeared in the audio visualizers that lit up within his eyes as he spoke.

The demoness screamed, almost jumping out of her chair in fright. The headset flew off, along with the MP3 player, which luckily didn't break. Greasy just laughed, flying back to perch on Kain's head.

"B-Boss!? You scared me, showing up like that!" Lune exclaimed irritably, shaking her head.

"If you'd been paying attention at the entrance, this wouldn't have happened," Kain said, rolling his eyes.

"Sorry..." Cinder muttered, looking down, a little embarrassed.

Kain sighed, bringing his hands to his eyes and frowning. "Just pay attention next time, okay?"

"Okay..." Cinder replied, still embarrassed.

"I'm not going to ask what you were listening to. Are the others here?"

"Yes, sir. But if I may ask... Why did you show up so late? It's already two in the afternoon."

"Work kills, Cinder Lune. I had to stay late last night sorting out the expenses for repairing the studio," Kain said, slightly irritated, crossing his arms.

"Was that incident really that serious?" Cinder asked, concerned.

"Yeah. Anyway, I'll talk to you later. Let the others know it's time for our daily meeting."

"Y-Yes, sir," Cinder replied with a quick salute.

Kain chuckled lightly and left the reception, gripping the metal bar on the wall to guide himself deeper into the record label.

Kain finally arrived at the source of the guitar sounds, walking down the hallway toward the meeting room. In one of the label corridors, a bat demon was playing an electric guitar while a spider demon listened intently, scribbling notes on a piece of paper.

"Alright, Lenian, I think we've tested enough," the spider demon said, pausing his writing to look up at the bat.

The bat was tall and wore a black coat marked by years on stage, protruding wings and And thin pants with intentional rips that went down to the knee. And thin black shoes worn from frequent use.

"Got it. So, what do you think?" Lenian asked, placing the electric guitar on the floor and unplugging it from the amplifier.

Rash adjusted his purple beret, which matched his oil-stained engineer's overalls and the holsters at his sides, each with a six-round revolver nestled inside. He wore a purple dungaree jumpsuit full of pockets typical of an engineer in addition to a bell on the left handle and a lever-action rifle magazine loaded on his back. His four eyes, arranged in a neat rectangular formation, blinked as he considered the equipment.

"These new amps are perfect. Those folks from the Greed Ring really know their stuff," the spider demon replied, carefully folding his notes and tucking them into his pocket.

Lenian glanced to his left and saw Kain approaching.

"Oh hey, the best musician in Hell has finally arrived," Lenian said, gesturing to Kain with a grin.

"Cut the introductions, Lenian. Are these the new amps?" Kain asked, stepping closer.

"Yep, they came in last night along with the other new gear. We figured we'd take advantage of the... incident to give the studio a bit of an upgrade," Lenian explained. "Ronnie even pitched in some funds so we could grab a few premium items, like this electric guitar from MTFD and some others like new headphones and even a Helltek Pro soundboard. It's quality stuff, boss." He picked up the guitar from the floor and held it out to Kain.

"Kain, pick up the guitar," Greasy cawed, nudging him.

Kain reached out, feeling around for a moment before his hands found the instrument. He held it carefully, fingers brushing over the polished metal and sturdy string joints of the MTFD Lior electric guitar.

"It's impressive, alright... but tell me, how much did this cost? I bet it wasn't cheap." Kain said crossing his arms and returning the guitar to Lenian.

"Boss, sometimes quality is priceless," Lenian said, raising an eyebrow.

"Ronnie..." Kain sighed, shaking his head.

"Well, boss, we had to buy a lot of things to replace what was lost. Even the window needed replacing," the spider demon, Rash, added, his extra left hand never leaving his holster.

"I know, I know," Kain replied. "Look, I already asked Miss Lune to inform everyone. Meeting's now."

"Want me to help you get there, boss?" Rash offered, leaning slightly forward.

"No need, Rash. I've walked this place so much, I've memorized it," Kain assured him, adjusting his suit. "But you know where to go."

He continued down the corridor, his hand occasionally brushing the wall as he passed framed records and albums-relics from his career and those of other artists who'd recorded at Veildark Records. The red walls, softly lit by warm yellow lights, gave the space a calm and elegant feel, a striking contrast to the industrial chaos just outside. Closed boxes of equipment were stacked along the hall, remnants of the fire that had struck only a week before, leaving the studio scrambling to replace much of its gear.

After climbing the stairs to the second floor, Kain finally reached a door at the end of the hallway with a white metal plaque that read "Meeting Room." He opened the door and entered, making his way to his usual chair at the head of the mahogany table, the room's focal point. The meeting room was spacious and meticulously arranged, each chair placed with precision around the polished table. On the left side of the room, a wide window-closed and shaded by white blinds-concealed the view of the polluted metropolis outside.

Greasy hopped down from Kain's shoulder, landing on the table with a loud, creaking scratch as his claws made contact with the wood. A few minutes later, the employees began to file in. One of them flicked on the lights, illuminating the room with a soft glow. They took their seats, glancing at one another with a hint of nervousness, the recent events still fresh in their minds.

"So... is everyone here?" Kain asked, his tone curious.

"Everyone but Ronnie," Cinder replied.

"That maestro... Alright, let's get started," Kain said, clearing his throat before continuing. "As you know, we recently had a little 'incident' in the studio that cost us sixty thousand souls' worth of recording and audio equipment-not to mention the structural damage."

Rash rubbed the back of his neck and muttered, "It was complicated... I'm lucky to have left the studio in one piece. At least I managed to save half of the drum set."

Lenian slammed his hand on the table, frustration evident. "How was I supposed to know that lizard breathed fire?"

Kain raised an eyebrow. "Well, that doesn't change the fact it's your responsibility, Lenian. As A&R director, you should've known."

"You nearly burned me alive, you bastard," muttered a imp sitting beside Lenian. She wore a gas mask under a green hooded sweatshirt, black shorts, fingerless gloves and a prosthetic on her left leg which gave her a distinct look, and her 4-foot frame contrasted sharply with Lenian's towering 6 feet.

Lenian glanced down at her, exasperation flickering in his eyes. "I didn't burn you, or almost burn you, Vixy. It was the damn lizard."

Vixy huffed, crossing her arms and pointedly looking away.

The silence stretched for a moment before the door swung open, and a tall demon strolled in, twirling a baton with a wide grin on his face Wearing casual clothes, even a little sloppy, which is strange due to the profession he practices. "On the bright side, this Luxuria Mundi has a killer sound. And with heavy metal on the rise among those rebellious types not so keen on Lucifer's teachings, I'd say we're onto something profitable. Nice find, Mr. Bloodbite."

Everyone's eyes turned to the door-except Kain, who, arms folded, remarked dryly, "Look who finally showed up. You're late, Ronnie. Where were you?"

Ronnie rolled his eyes, leaning against the doorway with a casual shrug. "Well, I was out having lunch with my boyfriend. Then some fans showed up... and, well, it took a little longer than planned."

"Hey, Ronnie!" called a cyclops demoness in a pink dress, seated to Rash's left.

"Oh, if it isn't the best opera singer in the city!" Ronnie replied with a grin. "Caught your last show at the Opera House Red Bride, It was amazing."

"The city?" the demoness replied proudly. "Everyone knows I'm the best in all of Hell."

"Don't get carried away, Lumiere," said another cyclops demoness sitting next to her with a smirk. "You've still got a long way to go."

Lumiere rolled her eye, sighing. "Stop killing my buzz, Luvenna."

Ronnie approached Kain, then turned to the rest of the room and cleared his throat. "If I could have everyone's attention for a moment."

The demons shifted their gaze toward Ronnie, while Kain, unable to see, simply focused on the sound of his voice.

"As manager of Veildark Records, I'm pleased to announce that despite the recent setbacks in our studio, our efforts have been a success. We reached our half-year profit target in record time, thanks in large part to Miss Lumiere's stellar work in promoting our artists and-"

"But," Kain interrupted sharply, cutting through Ronnie's words, "with the accident in our studio, the increase in taxes, rent, and emergency repairs-totaling over a hundred thousand souls-and the cost of new equipment, which I haven't even seen the final price tag for yet, our target has had to increase."

Ronnie rolled his eyes. "Geez, Kain, you're such a pessimist."

"I'm not a pessimist, Ronnie. I'm a realist."

"That's what every pessimist says," Ronnie retorted with a smirk.

"Whatever. If things keep going this way, we may have to get a loan or start cutting expenses," Kain said, crossing his arms. "Maybe the coffee machine, or the Dance Dance HELLVolution machine in the break room."

"WHAT!? NOT THE HELLVOLUTION MACHINE!" Lenian yelped, eyes wide. "My high score on Purple Sin is perfect!"

"I almost tied with you last week," Rash said with a smirk. "Got 660 points on Purple Sin."

"That's the difference, my arachnid friend," Lenian shot back, puffing out his chest. "'Almost tied' isn't a tie. You're still short of the perfect 666 points-my record."

"It's only a six-point difference," Greasy chimed in, his claws tapping across the table as he strutted toward Lenian.

"IT'S STILL A DIFFERENCE!" Lenian shot back, arms crossed defiantly.

"You're quite childish, Lenian Bloodbite. I think it's cute," Lune said with a light laugh, crossing her arms.

Lenian blushed and looked away, flustered by the comment.

"Look, it doesn't matter who has the highest score," Kain said, his tone drawing everyone's attention back to him. "What we need now is to think of ways to increase our profitability without resorting to cuts or loans."

"Excellent idea, Kain," Ronnie chimed in with a smirk. "If anyone has a suggestion, please raise your hand..." He glanced at Kain and added with a grin, "Or, you know, just speak."

"Oh, oh! I have a suggestion," Vixy said, raising her hand eagerly.

"Go ahead, Vixy. Let's hear it," Kain encouraged.

"We should... start selling drug-"

"Alright, does anyone have a less criminal idea?" Kain interrupted, deadpan.

"The Longheart Museum," Ronnie suggested, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.

"The what?" Kain asked, eyebrows raising in confusion.

"Listen, Kain, you're a demon with a well-established musical career spanning over seventy years in the world of jazz. You have fans all over Hell-they're constantly at our door wanting to talk to you. So let's make the most of it. We could set up an exhibition showcasing your long career and offer paid tours. It's a great way to boost income without a huge expense. The record label itself is already quite a landmark, so we could profit from guided tours, use the money for new equipment, and maybe even expand operations. It's a win-win situation. Think about it: we'd not only make money but also set an expectation of quality for the artists under our contract. It's an excellent idea, don't you think?"

Greasy chuckled from his perch on Kain's head. "You think fast," he remarked, giving an approving caw.

"A museum about me?" Kain repeated, rubbing the back of his neck with a hint of doubt. "I don't know, Ronnie..."

Ronnie just crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "Look, you brought this on yourself when you decided to leave your money stashed in Pentagram City for, what, some moral reason? Besides, from what I'm seeing, no one here has a better idea-so, it's either that or... you know, selling drugs."

Kain sighed, leaning against the table. "Alright, let's hear more about this 'museum' idea..."