Arackniss and Angel sat across from each other in a cozy corner of the Double Down Deli, they truly have the best sandwiches in town. The aroma of their lunch wafted between them as they settled into a conversation about Angel's progress.

"You know, Angel," Arackniss began, taking a bite from his porchetta di ariccia, "you've come a long way. Your moods aren't swinging so violently anymore. Therapy must be hard, but you're getting there."

Angel smiled, a genuine expression that had become more frequent lately. "Yeah, it's been rough, but I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Didn't think I'd say this, but therapy's helping."

Arackniss nodded, his many eyes reflecting a mix of pride and relief. "The therapy department was only added a couple of years ago, but it's been a big success. No one really knows why Husker decided to hire psychologists, but the staff is grateful."

Angel chuckled, a light-hearted sound that filled the room. "Yeah, I guess the staff might love The Cat's Den and their work here, but I'm sure that dealing with guests can be a nightmare."

Arackniss laughed along, his mood lifting. "Tell me about it. I am part of the security team and even I have some difficulties dealing with the clients. I swear some of them try to get under your skin on purpose. Hospitality is no easy job, that's for sure."

Angel's laughter faded into a thoughtful silence, and he leaned forward, a curious glint in his eyes. "By the way, what's up with the staff today? Everyone's running around like headless chickens. I've noticed it happens at least once a month."

Arackniss's expression grew serious, his many eyes furrowing. "Once a month, the boss goes to a meeting with two overlords, Rosie and Alastor."

Angel's eyes widened, and he let out a gasp. "The Cannibal Queen and the Radio Demon? Those two are some of the bloodiest overlords in Hell! I know they're allies, maybe even friends of Husker, but monthly meetings? No wonder the staff is on edge."

Arackniss nodded, understanding the concern in Angel's voice. "Yeah, it gets the staff worried about Husker's safety. They're paranoid and high-wired, thinking about what could go wrong."

Angel's fingers drummed nervously on the table, his thoughts racing. "I get it now. Husker alone with those two... It's nerve-wracking to even think about."

Arackniss reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on Angel's arm. "Hey, don't worry. The boss is strong, and in all these meetings, not once has he been injured or angered. He even comes back to the casino and resort so relaxed that he hums sometimes."

Angel's worry began to ease at Arackniss's reassuring words. "Really? He hums?"

Arackniss chuckled, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, he does. It's almost like those meetings calm him down, give him some kind of weird peace."

Angel took a deep breath, feeling a bit more relaxed. "Well, if Husker can handle it, then I guess I shouldn't worry too much. Still, it's hard not to."

Arackniss nodded, his eyes softening with understanding. "I get it. But the boss knows what he's doing. He's a lot tougher than he looks. Those meetings are important, and he wouldn't go if he didn't think he could handle it."

"Thanks, Arackniss. I needed that reassurance," Angel smiled.

They continued their lunch, the atmosphere between them lighter now. They chatted about lighter topics, sharing laughs and stories. Meanwhile, in the heart of Cannibal Town, amidst the eerie ambiance and the scent of freshly brewed tea, Rosie, Alastor, and Husker gathered for their monthly meeting. It was a tradition they upheld, rotating between Cannibal Town, Radio Tower, and The Cat's Den, each time bringing their own unique flair to the gathering.

For these special occasions, Husker exchanged his usual traditional black suit for a striking burgundy ensemble, perfectly complementing the all-red attire favored by Rosie and Alastor. Husker's pocket watch, a masterful blend of functionality and opulence, hung from his waistcoat with pride. Every tick of the watch was a reminder of his punctuality, precision, and the meticulous care with which he managed his affairs.

Rosie sported a stunning ruby necklace, a gift from Husker himself, adorned with many rubies from the Wrath Ring. Rosie's necklace gleamed under the dim lights of the teahouse, its vibrant stones catching the eye of everyone who glanced her way. The rubies, sourced from the dangerous mines of the Wrath Ring, she wore them with grace, her presence commanding respect and admiration from all who encountered her.

Alastor, never one to be outdone in the realm of style and true to his flamboyant nature, pinned the ruby brooch he had bought from Blackjack Bijoux to his lapel. The ruby's deep red hues matched his mischievous smile, the gemstone's brilliance only enhanced his charismatic and somewhat eerie aura.

Together, they earned the nickname "The Scarlet Trinity" among the citizens of Pentagram City. Unlike the Vees, who relied on strict alliances and calculated deals, Rosie, Alastor, and Husker operated on a different wavelength. They were formidable on their own, each with their own domain and influence. Their friendship was not bound by contracts or obligations—it was built on mutual respect and camaraderie. They did not need each other to keep their power, but if their bond made others wary… well, they did not complain.

Rosie, the Cannibal Queen, ruled her territory with an iron fist wrapped in a velvet glove. Her subjects followed her not out of fear alone, but because they knew she genuinely cared for those loyal to her. Her alliance with Alastor and Husker was a natural extension of her leadership style—based on mutual benefit and shared respect.

Alastor, the Radio Demon, thrived on chaos and spectacle. His broadcasts were infamous, his reach in Pentagram City unparalleled. Yet, for all his flamboyance, his friendship with Husker and Rosie was sincere. He enjoyed their company, the banter, and the strategic discussions that kept him on his toes. His loyalty was not bought with favors but earned through countless shared battles and victories.

Husker, the cat overlord, was the anchor of their trio. His pragmatic approach and business acumen were crucial in balancing Alastor's unpredictability and Rosie's fierce determination. His casino and resort were not just places of business but sanctuaries for those seeking respite from the brutal politics of Hell. The bond he shared with Rosie and Alastor was a source of strength and stability in an otherwise chaotic world.

Though, Husker couldn't help but notice the unease radiating from the Vees, especially Vox. The possessive overlord seemed particularly wary of Alastor's attention being focused elsewhere. Vox, with his ability to brainwash and manipulate through his TV broadcasts, was always a formidable opponent. His unease was palpable whenever he sensed the growing influence of the Scarlet Trinity.

But Husker paid it no mind. Let the Vees squirm and fret—if anything, it amused the cat overlord. The sight of Vox, usually so composed and in control, losing his cool over their alliance brought a smirk to Husker's face. It was a small, satisfying victory in the larger game they all played.

As the Scarlet Trinity, their power did not need constant demonstration. Their mere presence together was enough to send ripples of unease through their rivals. They thrived on this subtle power play, using their bond to maintain an upper hand without overt displays of dominance. Their strength lay not just in their individual abilities but in the silent agreement that they were stronger together.

As they sipped their tea and exchanged pleasantries, Alastor leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he addressed Husker. "You've been quite the entertainer lately, my dear Husk. First, the turf war and Henroin's demise, and then snatching Valentino's star right from under his nose. I must say, it's been a pleasure to watch."

Husker's lips curled into a satisfied smirk. "Just keeping things interesting, Alastor. Can't let Hell get too dull."

Pre-recorded laughter sounded from Alastor's radio, before the redhead continued speaking. "I happened to drop by your den while you were occupied with the fallout from Henroin's demise. I heard you left a young woman in charge. Quite a curious choice, considering only your employees seem to know about her. Do you not trust her with guests?"

Husker shrugged nonchalantly. "I trust her capabilities, Al. But I prefer to have her focus on the business side of things rather than the political intricacies of my territory. Besides, I put her fully in charge of the daycare and arcade project. I wouldn't entrust her with that responsibility if I didn't have complete faith in her abilities."

Rosie chimed in, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "Oh! My people have made full use of Full House Fun Care whenever they go for a weekend out. I'm thrilled to hear that families from my town are finding comfort in your den, Husker. It's wonderful to have a place where everyone feels welcome, regardless of their background. Not many sinners are as welcoming to cannibals as you."

Husker's voice was smooth as silk as he replied, "My den will always be open to you and your people, Rosie. You have my word on that."

Rosie giggled, clearly charmed by Husker's graciousness. "Now aren't you a charmer, kitty cat."

Alastor hummed thoughtfully, twirling his microphone staff between his fingers. "And what about her absence, Husky? I was surprised not to see her there when I visited, both times. First when everything went down with the mafia overlord, and afterwards when Angel Dust had first joined your staff. Was the young lady too busy to attend to me?"

Husker's expression softened as he explained, "As I said, I do not want her involved with politics, as such she does not attend to royalty or overlords in my territory." The last Husker needed is someone important, figuring out he had the Princess of Hell working for him. "As for the time you visited when I was busy handling the fall out of angering Valentino, she was not even at The Cat's Den. She's currently on a sabbatical, Al. Some family issues have come up, and her father needs her support. She's not a soul I own, but I couldn't deny her the time she needs with her family."

Alastor nodded in understanding, though a hint of skepticism lingered in his gaze. "Of course, Husker. Family comes first, after all." As Alastor twirled his staff, his mind wandered, silently contemplating Husker's seemingly soft-hearted nature. But for now, he kept his thoughts to himself, content to let the conversation flow.

Husker's voice lowered as he leaned in, his tone grave yet determined. "Speaking of Angel Dust is going through detox right now, so you won't be seeing him at The Lucky Draw or the casino floor anytime soon."

Rosie's eyes widened, her hand moving to her chest. "Detox? Is he going to be alright?"

Husker nodded solemnly. "He's struggling, but he's under good care. It's a tough journey, but Angel is determined to come out stronger on the other side."

Alastor's expression hardened as he absorbed Husker's words, his smile sharpening into something dangerous on his face. "And what about this Love Potion you mentioned? Made from Valentino's toxins?"

Husker nodded, his eyes narrowing with disgust. "Yes, Valentino's saliva contains aphrodisiac properties. It's the main ingredient in Velvette's Love Potion. He's been drugging his souls all this time."

"Well, at least now we understand how someone like that moth made it to overlord status," Rosie shook her head in disappointment.

Alastor's smile was even glacier. "Disgusting. I always knew that pimp was weak, but this is beyond pathetic. And Vox, allying himself with them? I should have known better than to expect anything more from a TV."

Husker and Rosie shared a knowing glance before breaking into laughter. Husker shook his head incredulously. "It's a circus out there, isn't it?"

Rosie chuckled, nodding in agreement. "You couldn't make this stuff up if you tried."

Husker's expression turned serious once more as he continued to share the intel he had gathered from Angel. "There's more. Vox has the ability to brainwash sinners who look into his TV."

Rosie's teacup slipped from her grasp, clattering to the table as she gasped in shock. Alastor's radio crackled ominously, a sinister laugh echoing through the room. Alastor's grin widened into a manic smirk. "Oh, Husker, my dear friend, you always bring me the juiciest stories. So, Voxy goes around preaching about trust while he's out there brainwashing his followers? Perfect! This is perfect!"

Husker exchanged a glance with Rosie, his cat-like eyes wide with amusement. "I think he's finally lost it."

Rosie chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh, he was always a bit loony. Nothing new there."

As their laughter echoed through the teahouse, Alastor then shifted in his seat, his tone taking on a more irritating edge. "And speaking of Vox, have you noticed how his modern technology scrambles people's brains? It's all fake news and plastic behavior. The man is a walking facade!"

Rosie and Husker looked at each other, bemused by Alastor's sudden tirade. They took delicate sips of their tea, watching as Alastor's rant continued.

"He's got everyone hooked on his flashy gadgets and fake promises," Alastor continued, his voice rising with indignation. "It's like he's playing puppeteer with the entire city, pulling strings with his digital lies and manufactured charm. It's sickening! Only I get to do that!"

Husker couldn't help but chuckle at Alastor's fervor. "Well, Al, you always did have a flair for drama."

Rosie smiled, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. "It seems our dear Alastor is spilling the tea today."

Alastor's eyes sparkled with a mix of anger and delight as he leaned back, gesturing wildly. "Oh, you haven't seen anything yet! The way he manipulates people, it's like watching an old lady gossip at a Sunday service. He's got everyone wrapped around his little finger, feeding them whatever narrative suits his fancy."

Husker laughed, shaking his head. "And yet, here we are, plotting our own moves. I suppose every king needs his jesters."

Rosie nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Indeed. But jesters or not, Vox's influence is a serious threat. We need to be careful."

Alastor's demeanor shifted, a predatory grin spreading across his face. "Oh, I have no intention of underestimating him. But knowing his tricks gives us an edge. And if he thinks he can outmaneuver us, he's in for a rude awakening."

Husker's eyes gleamed with determination. "Agreed. We'll use his own games against him. After all, if he wants to play with fire, we might as well show him how it burns."

Rosie's smile turned wicked, a rare glint of malice in her usually blank-warm eyes. "To that, I can toast. Here's to turning the tables on the Vees and anyone else who dares stand in our way."

Alastor nodded, his expression uncharacteristically sincere. "To our alliance and the havoc we'll wreak on those who underestimate us."

Huskeri raised his cup, his smile gentle but his eyes steely. "To the Scarlet Trinity. May our enemies fall."

As they raised their teacups in a toast. They all froze for a second, before giggling like children instead of the powerful overlords they were. Plotting the demise of their enemies was so much fun! This vindictiveness made Husker doubletake, he had been spending too much time with Rosie and Alastor. Their bloodthirst was starting to rub off on him.

Oh, well, he was already in Hell. How much worse could it get?

As they drank to their pledge, the room seemed to hum with the promise of future battles and victories. In the heart of Cannibal Town, amidst the clinking of teacups and the whispered strategies, the Scarlet Trinity fortified their pact, ready to take on the Pride Ring—and win.