A few hours later..
I sat in Blitzo's office, staring at the cluttered desk in front of me. The deranged world around me seemed to move in its usual, dizzying whirl, but I was trying to focus. Trying to think.
I'd managed to get a few hours of "quiet" time to reflect, if you could call it quiet when the occasional explosion or shriek could be heard from outside the office. The truth was, things were never really going to slow down here. But that didn't mean I couldn't take control and turn this business around. I told myself readying myself to begin being productive,
I had a plan, and it started with one simple fact: This place was a disaster.
I leaned back in Blitzo's tattered chair, trying to get comfortable in a body that didn't feel like mine.
The memory of my old life, the life I'd just lost, seemed like a faraway echo now. That part of me—the one who used to worry about paying rent, making the right choice, staying clean—was fading with every passing second.
The man I was now was here to clean up Blitzo's mess, whether I liked it or not.
And Blitzo's mess was extensive.
I looked out the cracked window at the abyss of Hell below. This was supposed to be a top-tier assassination business, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I.M.P. was about as far from top-tier as you could get.
For starters, the office. It looked like a post-apocalyptic yard sale with no real organization. It wasn't that the team didn't have potential, but there was no structure. No clear systems. Blitzo ran things with his will and no plan, that might have worked—if we were in a war zone. But we weren't. We were in Hell, sure, but the point was that I.M.P. needed organization.
The team was talented, but they were scattered. They didn't have clear roles, clear expectations, and worst of all, no one seemed to know how to communicate properly. It was all impulse and recklessness.
I ran my hands over my face. Okay. So, first things first: I needed to bring some order to the chaos.
The next problem: the clients. I.M.P. worked with some of the worst kinds of people, the lawless, disorganized, and often, shady to the core individuals. Blitzo didn't seem to care about the reputation of the company, as long as he got paid, but that was short-sighted. What good was making money if you had no long-term plan? The business was all about getting in, doing the job, and getting out, but that mentality would only get us so far. There was no thought given to repeat clients, establishing trust, or building a reputation for quality work. It was just… survive the day, and hope you don't blow up the building.
But ack to the main issue at hand
The team. I had Moxxie, Millie, and Loona. Each of them had talent, no doubt about it. But they needed guidance.
Moxxie was the most reliable, even though he hated all the mess. He wasn't as chaotic as Blitzo, and he had an actual moral compass. I could see him becoming a key figure in this business if I helped him embrace more leadership. Millie was tough, strong, and fiercely loyal, but she was impulsive—too quick to jump into situations that could end badly. She needed someone to remind her that strength wasn't just about muscle—it was about patience, strategy, and thinking before acting. Loona was a wildcard. Smart and sarcastic, she had potential in the tech field, but she needed structure too. If I could get her to care about more than just her phone, maybe we could get this shabby company on the right track.
I leaned forward, folding my hands together. I had to bring these pieces together.
First, systems. Every business has them. Hell, even Hell had a twisted version of order, and I could work with that. But if I didn't create clear roles, timelines, and a framework for how things operated, the whole team would continue flailing. I had to make sure that everything was organized, from how we took jobs to how we executed them.
And to get them to listen to me I also had to be a model of that
Second was the clients. We had to stop working for anyone who could pay us. We were in Hell, sure, but that didn't mean we had to be just a hitman business. I wanted to rebuild the brand—to offer quality work, reliability, and a reputation for excellence. Reputation would go a long way in Hell. It might be a place built on chaos, but even the demons had their pride.
And finally, and most importantly, leadership. I didn't have to be Blitzo to run the company. In fact, I'd be better at it if I wasn't acting like him.
I needed to be better. I needed to show the team that I was a leader they could trust. I wasn't some unsound figurehead. I was someone who would guide them toward something bigger. I was going to run I.M.P. like a real business, and that meant showing them that I could be more than just a wild boss. I could be someone who cared.
I rubbed my eyes. I knew this wouldn't be easy. Blitzo's past decisions had left scars on the company, and I had no illusions about what it would take to turn things around. But I had knowledge. I had future knowledge, for crying out loud. I knew how businesses should be run. I could see the mistakes before they even happened.
I wasn't just going to survive in Hell. I was going to change the damn place.
I stood up from the desk, my resolve hardening. I walked out into the main area where the team was still working.
Moxxie looked up first, raising an eyebrow at me. "You alright, Blitzo? You've been zoning out a lot today."
"I'm fine, Moxxie," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Actually, I'm ready to get to work. Big changes are coming. You guys ready?"
Millie gave me a slow smile. "Big changes huh? I'm listenin."
I turned to Loona, who barely looked up from her phone. "Are you? Or are you just pretending to care until I make a deal that'll let you get more Wi-Fi?"
Loona rolled her eyes but didn't bother to argue. "Whatever, you're the boss. Let's see if you can actually pull it off."
I grinned. I wasn't just going to pull it off—I was going to build something that worked.
And for the first time since I got here, I actually believed it.