It was pretty predictable that Husk was gonna quit at some point. Thanks to Vaggie and Charlie bickering with each other, and people treating Husk like a therapist, Husk finally lost it and left the Hotel. Alastor left, so why couldn’t he?

The door slammed behind Husk. He stood beneath the screaming rain before shoving his hands into his pockets and heading for the Magic Kat Casino. Nothing had changed. The liquor, cigars, perfume, flashing lights, cards, dice—it was all painfully familiar. Husk returned to gambling and drinking, winning at first and feeling the old rush of freedom. Soon, however, his winnings vanished. One loss became another, followed by another drink. Eventually, he slumped at the bar, staring into his glass, no longer seeing an Overlord or a winner—only someone exhausted. And it made him grin. “This is the life. Good booze, no one askin’ me for nothin’, and a song sung by a lovely broad.” He chuckled and raised his drink towards the stage. “Here’s to you, baby.”

Then a spotlight illuminated the stage. A familiar figure stepped beneath it: Guest, dressed beautifully for her performance, with blonde fur, voluminous hair, and her long pink tail.

Guest wasn’t just some lovely broad, she was Husk’s wife. Before and after death. And the wife that he hasn’t seen for twenty years, not ever since his overlord days when they were happy together.

Husk stared as she sang, transforming her pain into something glamorous. Beneath the playful performance was something raw, something he recognized.

When she finished, the crowd erupted, and she disappeared backstage. Husk remained frozen, the alcohol suddenly forgotten. He lowered his glass and muttered, “Son of a bitch.” For the first time that night, the casino felt a little bit too much like home. It made Husk feel homesick.

God. He really missed that woman.