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| - Before you handed him over to Johnny's men, Akarist told you something:
'Ah, so I was correct. This is about Mr. Sonata. How droll. No doubt he's begun to fear his contract is finally up. Oh, you did know that, correct? This is all about the little deal Mr. Sonata made to gain all of his wealth and power and fame. It's a sad case, really, but one repeated any time ambition and ignorance boldly stride into the open arms of the underworld. I was wondering why so many people seem so enthralled by such a mediocre singer. And here I had put it off to changing tastes in music over the eons since I was last alive.
- This thick sheaf of photocopies is a duplicate of the contract Johnny Sonata had you steal from Arachnos. Johnny's name has been blacked out on this copy. However, you notice that it's still warm to the touch.
- *Ahem*
- Johnny Sonata is always the hottest ticket in town, and these two front row seats are probably worth more than most people on the Island make in a month. Just the thing to bribe a low-paid technician.
- After you smacked him around a bit, Librarian Engrat was ready to tell you what he could about the copy of Johnny's contract you showed him:
'I'll tell you what you want to know, just cease! This may not be my body, but I've grown quite attached to it. Little bit of humor there.
- This thick contract is written in strange reddish letters that glow faintly and feel warm to the touch. It's dozens of pages long, and written in a bizarre kind of legalese. The signature on the bottom is Johnny's world-famous autograph.
- Now he's interested in the Wailers? He leaves me to deal with this for how long, and now he wants you to take care of it? Fine. The biggest group of them right now is down in the sewers. I can tell you where to go and how to get there. If he's interested now, it must be because he's found a way to save his miserable hide. Well, as long as it keeps people from getting hurt, I can handle that.
- Awright! Thanks for tha' tickets, pal. Mr. Sonata told me where ya need ta go, an' I got tha portal prepped for yah. We'll be ready ta pull ya back once yer done. Now, this thing's still a bit shakey, so ya might be a bit uncomfortable. Don't mind that. An' if it does go wrong on yeh, well, then ya won't be able ta mind it ever again. Now, I got tha coordinates all set, an' tha portal's powered up. Go on in.
- It does make sense, though. My guess would be that the 'Wailer' demons are part of the curse, come to collect Mr. Sonata's soul. Mr. Sonata has been very clever, though. St. Martial itself is nothing more than a way to focus mystic power into a series of wards meant to distract, disrupt, or bar the demons' entry. But it won't work forever. I'll provide him advice of course, but it's not going to help. These things never end well. Believe me, I know.
The delightful thing about situations like this is that it works both as history and as metaphor. Johnny Sonata sold his soul for success literally, but the sort of person he is, if there were no demons in this world, he would have sold his soul just the same through more mundane means.
- Well, I can tell you it's demonic. Most likely a soul-exchange contract. You know, wealth and power and fame in exchange for one's soul. As a Librarian, I've seen a great number of them. I note that the contractee has been blacked out, so it's most likely someone powerful. You, perhaps? Well, whoever it is, if they're looking for a way out of it, I'm afraid I won't be much help to you. You'd probably need a specialist in demonic negotiations like the traitor Akarist to find a loophole.'
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