Is Your Dad Evil?

[BCOLOR=transparent]Max just laughed in mock humor at the situation. Sending someone to hell for a week or two was apparently considered less then medieval. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]"I don't see how you think so. If anything, an early visitation to the afterlife would be far worse then just losing your hands." He scoffed. "You're just twisting the law to suit your own needs. You and I both know that's not what it was written for."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Twisting the rules and finding loopholes to suit yourself wasn't much better then actually breaking them in Max's eyes, in fact, it might actually be worse. She kept talking about how it was a positive, life changing event for some, and at this point, Max was in disbelief. How could she possibly think sending a mortal to hell as punishment for petty theft could end up being a positive influence?[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"You know, I've heard just as many similar stories about reformed criminals who went to jail. You're taking your punishment to cruel and unusual lengths, and abusing loopholes to do it. Just because it worked out well for some doesn't mean it did for everyone. All the people I interviewed were much less then reformed." He told her. "Did you ever consider that some of them didn’t have any choice in the matter?” He asked simply, his mind jumping to the last person he interviewed.[/BCOLOR]

Max raised an eyebrow at the girl, confused.
"I don't think you're following. Humans don't percieve Hell the same way you do. A place of eternal torture and punishment is no place for a living mortal." He replied, sighing. "And I don't think you follow. I'm saying that jail reform can do just as well, and indeed, probably better, then your way of handling criminals, without inducing the kind of trauma that comes with it." He clarified, shaking his head slowly. "You aren't above the law. Whatever the rule you're loopholing says, you and I both know you're violating its intent."

This was starting to get irritating. He should have figured she'd become hostile quickly, after all, he was arguing with the daughter of the club owner, not just some employee or something. She retorted back at him, questioning what he was saying, and Max leaned forwards for emphasis, speaking slowly and firmly.

"You might not be aware, but there are people who don't try this stuff directly. I dug up some info on a man offering a prize to some for managing to steal from Gomorrah, while others he extorted and threatened. It's not a stretch to say that they were trying to protect their families." He explained slowly.

Now came that question again, the one he couldn't answer. She probably knew it too. It wasn't likely she'd know even if he told her, they were a secret order after all, and fairly new to Monte Carlos. "It doesn't matter who I'm working for. I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do." He said simply, dodging the question. "And I don't want Gomorrah shut down." He told her, sitting back in his chair. "...Not yet."

"It's pretty simple, Chloe. Help me stop this, and I drop the case. I don't want to be your enemy. I'm in the business of creating peace, not war."

Max was starting to get frustrated with Chloe's lack of appreciation for the severity of their situation. It was like she didn't even care what they did to these people. Then, when he got down and asked her for help, she finally seemed to perk up and pay attention. Finally.

When she explained that she couldn't help with her father, Max just sighed, nodding in understanding.
"I should have figured." He said, disappointed. "Nothing's ever easy in this city, is it?" He asked sarcastically, laying back in his chair. "Your dad doesn't even trust you not to spill his secrets?" He asked, a little more seriously. He had thought they would have been much closer, given how fiercely she defended him at first, but this new development might have just shined a little light on the situation.

At her offer to help, Max smiled. "Now we're making progress." He chuckled. "I've got a first name, at least. Leander. He's a black market dealer that I've heard about once or twice, but I've never ran into him. Likes to trade in magical items." He explained. "Can you put a face to that name? Know any of your dad's enemies?"

"Whatever you say, I guess." Max shrugged, listening as the girl explained that she knew him and where he was hiding. He wondered if there was more to this story, as it seemed like it wasn't exactly a sustainable business model, considering the rate at which their attempts to rob the place failed. Still, just one or two bottles would probably be plenty.

"Not an enemy, just someone who tries to rob you on a regular basis?" He inquired, raising an eyebrow at the statement. He didn't have much reason to trust her, especially because of how difficult she had been with him at first. He pushed the thought away. At the very least, they'd both have dealt with a mutual enemy.

"I'd try to bring him in. If it comes to it, though, I guess I'l put a bullet in him. It's best that we get him off the street." He answered.

"I guess so." Max said "I assume you're not coming with, then?" Max asked doubtfully. He was used to handling this sort of thing alone anyways. As she texted, Max politely waited, pulling up his own phone and sending an update to The Order. It seemed his mission had just changed, at least for now. Slightly upsetting, but at least he'd be taking down a priority target.

She gave him a word of warning, that he was likely going to have to put in a little extra effort. He thought for a moment, stroking his chin slowly. "Well, let me put it this way... One way or another, this guy won't be making another poor schmuck go into your club." He said flatly.