Upon asking Lola, Nine was told he could bring as many Demons he wanted to live in his part of the General's Divide, but that he would need to wait until at least Breakfast since she still had a lot of prep work to get through, having opted to use a potion to extend her waking hours to pump the lead out and finish the task enough to get Nine out of the common area so it would be easier to work around his wants.
Upon his return, Nine found the Ratricks had retrieved their ammo, no more knives, cutting boards, pots, or pans could be seen littering the floor.
They stood vigilant as he passed them, he picked two of the medium-sized ones up and they clung to his shoulders for a moment before he managed to get them to nap.
Once they were snuggled up in a little Ratrick den made of blankets He took their place at the wall, the other three seemed confused at what he was doing as he began their training in the art of taking shifts.
Unlike his old cell, there were plenty of Windows on the walls to indicate the time of day. Nine pondered why the sleeping area here was so chaotic and pondered if, since it was the first and second floor, all new or weak recruits were sent to work on the floor, resulting in a mass overpopulation of workers who could last days or years without moving in rank.
By the time he woke up the two Ratricks and traded them out for the other medium and Tiny, he could see that Gorvo had returned to life and was in the middle of rallying his troops.
Whether it was for a Fight, just to assure them that Nine's attack had been a cheap shot and he was still better than him, some other third thing, or a combination of any three, Nine wasn't sure.
He watched them as they spread apart, Gorvo looking over to him and smiling before walking away.
"I wonder if I'm allowed to fire that guy?" Nine muttered, "Oh no better yet, make him do all the chores they tried to blackmail me into doing, I stopped listening but that guy was still talking for a while, and I cut him off, so there's gotta be a lot of cleaning up to do that none of the first floor dudes wanna do or something,"
Nine switched Tiny and the third medium back in, put Big Guy to sleep as the night kept going, after some time he felt pride as the two mediums moved towards the sleeping area, and Big Guy came back in their place.
"I'm proud of you guys," he decided, "I should get mismatched hats so I can properly tell the medium Trio apart," having said that he also began wondering how he would ever be able to tell all the Imps apart, outside of Debbie, they all mostly looked the same, he could tell the Caravan Quartet part only thanks to fact that they had stolen some clothes from the Caravan and all wore brown cloaks, he could now tell the trio of trauma apart thanks to their new blood red dresses, all three looked the same but each had a little heart in a different spot, right sleeve, left sleeve, and back, making it so he could tell them apart so long as they didn't change.
But all the other imps wore the same kind of rags he had spent most of his life in.
"Even if I memorized names," he muttered, "Forty-six identical faces with Forty-six different names, they're bound to get mad If I don't at some point gain the skill to pick each one out in a crowd,"
He looked out at the night sky from the closest Window to the corner, as he pondered, and pondered till his ponderer was sore, he tried feeling out for their heartbeats the same had had before, realizing that he had at least the ability to tell Imp blood apart from any other creatures he wondered if he could tell them apart the same way he had group them all together.
The second he tried to do so it was like they were all different shapes and colors, their natural connection to blood magic making it so he could tell each of them apart from the small magical difference in how their hearts produced blood, some had weaker magic, some stronger, and each one had a slightly different resonance in their blood when he looked at them.
"I can work with that," He decided as he focused on memorizing the original fours blood resonance.
He hadn't quite got it down when the sun began peeking in through the window and he heard a sound echo through the halls, it didn't remove his exhaustion, but it did cut it down just enough that he felt that, if he had gotten a proper night's sleep, he could have woken up without much complaint.
Having dropped the Blood wall during the night to reserve his strength Nine stretched the stiffness of guarding a spot out of his body as the common room got noisy, dozens of demons heading the opposite direction of the Teleporta mirror to where Nine assumed the Dining hall was.
"All right we're forming a line," Nine decided as his Imps began emerging from the bed fort, "Split into four groups of ten with one Ratrick, then a final group of Seven with one Ratrick," The Imps huddled up, leaving a group of six consisting on the original four, the Imp with a new dress that had a heart on her back, and a random Imp from the Coastal group.
"Debbie," Nine looked under the bed, using his blood scene on all the Imps in an attempt to get better with it, she looked out at him from under the bed, her heartbeat and the brief look he got at her indicated she was terrified, but upon seeing Nine's face fear dissipated and she scurried out from under the bed with haste and latched onto his leg.
"Alright calm down," He looked to an Imp whose heartbeat changed to a tune he felt indicated jealousy, "This little lady, as far as I can tell, had been killed and turned into Jam more than a few times," The Imp looked away red-faced at how instantly Nine had caught her glaring.
Nine set her on the Back bed before picking up Big Boy and setting him next to her, he proceeded to assign each of the remaining Ratricks a group.
"Alright everyone stick close to your Ratrick," To make sure the Ratricks got the idea he made a Blood rope, handed it to a Ratrick, and then trailed it to his Imps.
Once all the Imps were properly set up he motioned them forward and his group began their quest to breakfast.
He got plenty of stares, murmurs, and more than a few Demons laughed at him, not all felt like an insult, a Demon who looked like a giant Racoon stopped him and told him exactly where the Troll from the previous day was and advised he keep his little one's far away from it.
They managed to make it to the Cafeteria with only one attempted snatching, a creature that looked like a Human with the head of a Lizard had tried to make a grab and run, and hadn't even managed to touch one of the Imps before all five Ratricks concentrated fire and it was forced to flee with a knife sticking out of its upper arm.
Nine attributed their low snatch attempts to that failed attempt as it had been in the middle of the common room and plenty of demons saw the results of an attempt.
Nine walked into a circular chamber and had to ask directions to the Common room from a small group of Demonings, who all pointed him in the direction and wished him luck.
"Gorvo definitely has a present waiting for me," Nine decided as he and his Imps followed the directions.
Upon arriving at a room equally as big as the Common room, but lined with multiple long tables, circular tables, with each wall seemingly dedicated to a different type of serving food, he felt a lot of eyes on him as he moved his Imps toward the closest counter, and waited in line, when it was his turn, he looked at the Demonling serving food, and before he could ask what food they had it spoke to him with a shake of his head.
"Sorry bud, but Gorvo has banned you from the Cafeteria, you'll have to talk to him if you want food,"
"What?" Nine demanded in confusion, "He's just some dude, you can't bare me and mine from eating just cause he said so,"
"Look Greenhorn-"
"I don't have horns," Nine snapped back, irritated at the situation, "And If I did they'd be Red!"
"Look Idiot," The Demonling cut back, "Gorvo basically runs the first floor, none of the General's care, and the Demon Lord never comes down this low, and even if some stupid sap decided to take on the role of General Nine, Gorvo would still run things cause any attention whore willing to take that title isn't one worth respecting, Just like that hack Eight, only General I respect are the original Seven from the old days, so if you want shit to be fair, get you and your little Imps to the Seventh or Sixth Floor, till then, go be a good dog and Beg,"
"Good Dammit," Nine Turned to his Imps and had them and his Ratricks huddle in a Corner before taking a deep breath.
"I'm gonna get you all food," he promised them, "Everyone stay right here, and if you feel treated throw a rock and the Ratricks will pelt whoever you hit with Knives until they back far enough away,"
After getting confirmation he went to every area serving food, and was denied service from them all.
"Alright, peace has failed," Nine noted as he made his way towards Gorvo who stood up from his table, surrounded by Demonlings, other Hobgoblins, and a few shorter Green variants he assumed were Hobless Goblins.
"Come to beg?" Gorvo asked happily.
Nine walked up to him, and then grabbed his left arm, making a great show of slowly breaking it off, talking as he did so.
"You know why you're on the first floor?" Nine asked as Gorvo took a step back from him, "It's because it's the floor for Adventurers who are just starting out, the baby floor. And I'm sure some of the inhabitants of the first floor are there because it's easier, they don't have to try as hard, or they're just from a weaker race and are complacent with that, but not you," Nine laughed as his arm finally tore off, "Oh not you, your stuck down here because you're a talentless mook, who's only ability is to tell other talentless mooks what to do,"
Nine smacked Gorvo across the mouth with his served hand, "I'm not some cowards who crawl and cries and begs for mercy because some big bad monster says this floor is for weak babies, and he's just so cool and awesome! When in reality he's been stuck on that very floor for seven years, so either fight me, actually fight me yourself without having some smuck fire arrows from afar, or shut the fuck up and go back to pretending like you denied the Title of General Nine over being too much of a bitch baby to ever even be considered for it,"
Gorvo and Nine stared at each other for a long moment, then Gorvo swung his fist back and decked Nine full in the face, who didn't bother doing anything as he held his ground without so much as being pushed back.
"Bitch," Nine said elegantly before using his attached hand to smack Gorvo across the mouth, this time like he meant it. The Hobgoblin was sent sprawling over a few tables before landing inside the Kitchen area, having been effortlessly aimed at the first Demonling.
Nine ignored Gorvo's men and climbed up onto the table, most of the Cafeteria having already been watching when he had started talking to Gorvo he held up his severed stump and formed a cone so his voice could be heard better.
"Hello, all you fine Demons of the First floor," He called out, "I am General Nine," all voices went silent upon his introduction, "I have been informed you all think that anyone who would take my title is a sad little attention whore, and have heard the same things said about General Eight, in response to that I Issue a simple decree, one that I hope you of the Second floor will tell you're General about so she can use it, and then you to clean the mess you made in her divide," Nine made sure everyone's attention was on him before he made his decree, "Fight me, cowards,"
Nine's cone swirled into a tendril that stabbed his discarded hand and returned it to him, twisting it around a little before it began healing back into place.
Nine hopped off the table, still ignoring Gorvo's goons, and started walking back to his Imps, after three steps he felt a heartbeat getting closer and he leaned to the left as Clark swung his right hand at him, Clark went just slightly past him before Nine's arm swung up from his side and slammed his fist in Clark's face, sending him back the way he came.
Humming a happy little tune he walked up to the closest counter connected to the kitchen, the Ocelot man standing there flinched when Nine knocked his fist against the counter.
"I'd like food for me and all my Imps, although I understand if you need me to kick your teeth in so I can get it myself since you all think I'm not worth respecting, so I can't see why I should both respect any of you, You'll come back to life, so don't feel pressured to lose your peers respect out of fear of death,"
"Wh…what can I get for you, sir?" The Ocelot replied nervously.
By the time Nine had gotten his Imps, Ratricks, and Himself something to eat, the common room was in an uproar at his announcement of being a General.
Most, once he was far enough away, started saying it was a paper-thin lie in an attempt to shut down Gorvo.
Gorvo himself had rushed out of the Cafeteria with Clark in tow, the look in his eye telling Nine he was not quite done being a problem.
Nine enjoyed a delicious bowl of hot and sweet mushy stuff
Despite the odd look the bowl's contents were delicious, his Imps having taken over a table and were enjoying the same things, His Ratricks acting like it was the party of the century as they had each gotten a bowl according to size.
He did his best to use a spoon, but after choking on it just went back to using his hands.
"He has the table manners of a witless git who'd take the job," he heard someone whisper.
"Insult me further away or get you ass over here and fight me, coward," he shot back, resulting in most of the table behind him relocating, "Thought so,"
Along with the Ratricks and Nine, Debbie was also eating with her hands, reminding Nine that she needed a bath as she wasn't able to finish her bowl due to the dirt she had been passively adding to it with just her hands, presumably overtaking the sweet flavor.
Nine finished up his food and cleaned his hands with a cloth napkin, he proceeded to do the same thing for Debbie, and the Ratricks, and once all the Imps finished he had them line back up in their groups as he began depositing all their napkins in a large bin that he presumed would later be taken to either a furnace or a room for cleaning.
He had just made it back to his Imps when the Troll returned.
"Oh god dammit," Nine sighed as it began marching towards him.
"Thanks to you I have to eat breakfast without any Jam," The Troll said angrily, stopping just short enough to avoid becoming a pincushion alla Ratrick, "I'm putting a formal complaint in about this, the Demon Lord doesn't treat theft lightly,"
"You gonna tell I stole something, or you gonna tell her I stopped you from murdering, mutilating, and then Canablizing another Demon!?"
"I'm a Troll you shit for brains," he shot back, "It's not Canablizim if I eat-"
"You are a Demon!" Nine shot back angrily, "A Demonic Beast or just normal Animals would be fine, but Imps are classified as Lesser Demons, not Demonic Beasts, so it's Canablizim and I won't stand for that shit even if they do come back to life, fuck you go eat your ass if you need some Demon Meat so bad, you got plenty of it to spare"
"Last warning," Troll barked out, "Give back Debbie, and a few of your spares as a show of good faith, or I'll put in a formal complaint and Take care of all of these pretty little snacks from ya once you're thrown out of the Tower,"
"Screw you I'm putting a formal complaint about this regardless of what you say," Nine had no idea how to do that but figured he could ask Eight about it the next time he saw her.
He motioned for the Troll to move, and it did so after checking and seeing the Ratricks were already aiming at him.
Nine put himself between the Troll and his Imps and they began moving out, the Ratricks sidestepping as they kept their aim on the Troll till all Imps had passed and Nine started to walk away.
Having more sense than Gorvo when it came to picking a fight a guy who could make his opponents pop like water balloons the Troll instead hit a table angrily. As Nine exited the Cafeteria, he led his Imps back toward the Teleportal Mirror since Lola had suggested he check in with her after breakfast.
Nine had just gotten everyone into the hallway leading to the Teleportal when he ran into a second very interesting group.
Gorvo and Clark snickered from behind the demon; they had presumably gone running and crying for aid.
"General Eight," Nine greeted merrily, Who was visibly amused but still holding a stern look.
"So, I presume this is the big Imp claiming to be General Nine and abusing false authority?" She asked Gorvo, doing a good job at not cracking a smile.
"Yes," Gorvo pointed at Nine somewhat dramatically, "Stealing property, harassment, murder, wasting food,"
"Hey, that last one's a lie," Nine snarled back angrily at the mere thought.
"See, he admitted to it, teach him a lesson in how a soldier should act General," Gorvo visibly realized he made a demand and swiftly corrected it, "If you please would,"
Eight held a stony face as she approached Nine, who waved off the Ratricks as they prepared to defend him.
"What'd you steal?" She asked curiously.
"They stripped down and took a few of my Imps," Nine said with a huff, "I just grabbed all the Imps in the area and ended up with one extra, but she didn't want to be slaughtered and turned into jam so I let her stay in my group,"
"Jam?" Eight seemed disgusted at the thought and Nine at least took solace that eating Imps was probably a frowned upon activity even with the revival field. Eight shivered at the thought before continuing, "Harassment?"
"They stole my Imps then demanded I do odd jobs to maybe, get them back. Also, they tried to ban me from the Cafateria unless I gave them my Imps when I took them all back because Gorvo owns the first floor for some reason,"
"Odd," Eight replied as she looked back at him, "Last I checked if a Floor doesn't have a General or its usual General is out on business, it falls under the command of the next Highest General in the count,"
"I'm just a foot soldier," Gorvo replied without so much as breaking a sweat, indicating he was used to lying to Eight's face, "He's lying, and doing a poor job might I add just look at him!" as Gorvo spoke Nine's face felt oddly hot and he felt perspiration wanting to form but he denied it from doing so since it was a waste of his liquid resources he could use for blood magic.
"He's…practically sweating,"
"Yeah, I am," Nine agreed as he put a hand to his forehead, "Why'd the temperature go up?" No sooner had he managed to ask did Eight seemingly teleported a few feet back and smack the back of Clark's neck, as soon as he crumpled like paper Nine's face stopped feeling hot.
"Oh, that's only immensely suspicious," Eight noted as she tossed Clark to the side and moved back into her original lace in a blink of an eye. "So who did you Murder?" She asked without paying any mind to Gorvo trying to say that the big Imp was forcing Clark to do it with blood magic to make it seem like he wasn't feeling the pressure of his poor lies,"
"That guy," Nine replied shortly, "He tore my dress so I popped him like a water balloon," Eight looked at him suspiciously for a moment before pressing the response.
"Ok, so you don't know your original name, but you do know what a Water balloon is?" Eight questioned in mild confusion.
"They used to throw food at us during some of the more boring fights in the blood pit, but when I started eating it they switched to water balloons since it left plastic and more watery than usual blood instead,"
Eight shook her as she turned to Gorvo, "He somehow makes me sad about everything," She took a deep breath before nodding, "Yep, that's General Nine," She patted Gorvo on the head, "Good luck with that, boss of the first floor," Nine motioned for his Imps to follow down the hall as Gorvo followed after Eight.
"There has to be some mistake," Gorvo called back in desperation, walking over and even on Clark without much thought, feeling slightly bad Nine helped him to his feet and patted him down.
"Go on," Nine told him, "Don't touch my Imps," He didn't bother looking back since the Ratricks already had him in their sights and would take care of him if he tried to grab an Imp and go.
"That is General Nine," Eight said again, "He is the boss of the first floor, as such you're no longer under my jurisdiction, so leave me the hell alone you sniveling child, tiered of you always running to me to solve problems you cause,"
"Then have me moved to the Seventh floor," Gorvo's recommendation was met with laughter.
"I tried," She told him flatly, "But when Seven had One disguise her as a recruit, she worked on the first floor for a day and got mad at me for trying to throw my trash at her, which was fair,"
Gorvo turned to Nine, having seemingly realized he had run out of bridges to burn with Eight, "Nine," He said merrily, "We got off on the wrong foot, you need me, no one's gonna listen to or respect you of all creatures, let me run things in your stead and-"
"Nope, no, fuck you," Nine replied firmly, "My decree is final, shut up, do your job, and if you can't respect me I won't respect you," Nine Forced Gorvo out of the way as Eight sticking her arm in the Teleportal to keep it open for the Imps and Ratricks to cross over. "If you have any further problems with how I do things feel free to Fight me, coward! Now on to business, I hear a Tub is supper dirty, go clean it by yourself, and if I find out you made someone else do it or even so much as had them help you, I'll make you into a Jam and offer it to the Troll as a peace offering, maybe Hobgoblin tastes better than Imp, only one way to find our right?"
"I'll make sure it's done sir," Nine looked to the new voice back and saw that Clark was shaking slightly as he saluted.
"You traitor," Gorvo snarled back.
"I serve the commander of the first floor," Clark replied firmly, before adding in a fearful tone, "And I don't want to be turned into Jam,"
"Good," Nine said as he tossed Gorvo aside, "Maybe sure he gets it done before others start taking baths," Nine followed after his little squad and entered his Divide as Gorvo and Clark seemed to get into a fight or argument of some kind.
"They'll figure it out," Nine decided, not fully caring one way or the other.