The secret of a good poison, much like a good bouillabaisse, isn't in the potency of the ingredients, but in the balance. If it’s too strong, the body rejects it with vomit before absorption. If it’s too weak, the liver metabolizes it and you only get a headache.

  What I was preparing in Madame Gristle's kitchen needed to be perfect.

  "Are you putting cilantro in that?" asked Gristle, leaning over the counter, watching me pipette a drop of Wyvern bile into the Spider Queen's venom vial.

  "It's Tomb Parsley Extract, Gristle. It masks the metallic aftertaste of the neurotoxin." My hand didn't tremble, though the Parasite inside me was restless, scratching at the walls of my stomach. It knew what we were doing. We were creating a weapon to kill a god.

  The kitchen was closed to customers. Spread across the stainless steel table were stolen diagrams from Helix Pharma, the decrypted hard drive, and empty pizza boxes.

  Valéria was typing on three laptops simultaneously.

  "I have the schedule," she said, without taking her eyes off the screens. "The 'Golden Sun Gala' starts in four hours. It’s being broadcast live to 200 countries. The Solar Knight is going to give a speech on 'Peace and Security' and then demonstrate his powers in a staged fight against a captured monster."

  "Show-off," Luna grumbled. She was sitting in a corner, polishing the microphone-baton with a flannel cloth. She looked older than she did two days ago. The "naive pop idol" look was gone, replaced by the look of someone who had seen the inside of a giant spider.

  "The demonstration is where we get him." I pointed to the holographic map of the event, projected over a soup pot. "According to the Helix files, the Knight needs the 'Ego Stabilizer' injection exactly 15 minutes after using large amounts of mana. If he doesn't take it, his parasite's hunger goes out of control."

  "And he takes this in the dressing room?" asked Luna.

  "No. He takes it on stage." I smiled, a cold smile. "They disguise it as a 'Victory Toast.' A crystal goblet containing a golden nectar that is, in reality, a cocktail of biological suppressors."

  I held up the vial I was mixing. The liquid inside had turned from neon green to a translucent gold, identical to champagne.

  "We're going to switch the bottle."

  "How?" Gristle crossed her massive arms. "Security will be Presidential level. Magic shields, poison detectors, chimeric dogs."

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  "Poison detectors scan for magical toxicity," I explained, capping the vial. "This here isn't magic. It's pure biology. To a sensor, this looks like fermented grape juice. As for getting in..."

  I tossed a pair of gray jumpsuits onto the table. They were Sanitation and Cleanup Division uniforms.

  "Nobody looks at the janitor, Gristle. The event is going to have a monster fight, right? Someone has to clean up the blood in the arena before the toast."

  "It's the stupidest plan I've ever heard," Valéria laughed, lighting an electronic cigarette. "I like it. I'll handle the cameras. I'll loop the feed for ten seconds when you make the switch."

  "And if it goes wrong?" Luna stood up, gripping the baton tightly. "What if he notices the taste?"

  "The Spider Queen's venom anesthetizes the taste buds upon first contact. He won't feel a thing." I walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "The problem isn't him drinking it. The problem is what happens after."

  The plan was simple in theory, but chaotic in practice.

  The venom would cut the connection between the human (the Knight) and the Hunger Parasite.

  Without the symbiosis, the Parasite would panic. It would try to get out.

  It wouldn't be pretty. And it would be on national television.

  "We're going to expose the monster," said Luna, firmly. "We're going to show everyone what Sovereignty really is."

  "Exactly." I looked at the clock on the wall. "We have three hours. Do the mise en place. I want equipment checked, escape routes memorized, and wills signed."

  Two hours later, we were in the van (a new one, stolen by Valéria) behind the Pacaembu Stadium, where the Gala was taking place.

  I looked at myself in the rearview mirror. The gray janitor uniform fit me like a second skin. It was my original armor. It was who I was before all this.

  Arthur, the garbage man.

  "Are you ready?" asked the Parasite in my mind. Its voice was calm, almost solemn.

  "Afraid of meeting a distant relative?" I thought back.

  [THE HUNGER PARASITE IS AN ABERRATION. IT CONSUMES WITHOUT LEARNING. IT IS A WASTE OF BIOMASS. IT MUST BE RECYCLED.]

  I smiled. Even my inner monster had professional standards.

  "Doctor," Luna called. She was also wearing the gray uniform, with a cap hiding her short hair. She looked nervous, but focused. "Valéria gave the signal. The South Sector ventilation system is disabled. We can go in."

  I grabbed the cleaning cart. Inside the mop bucket, in a false bottom, were my scalpels, the golden vial of venom, and Luna's disassembled sonic amplifier.

  "Remember, Luna." I looked into her eyes. "Today we aren't heroes. We aren't saving anyone. Today, we are just the cleanup crew. We're going to clean up the filth they've hidden for thirty years."

  I pushed open the service door. The noise of the crowd inside was deafening, a roar of blind adoration that made the floor shake.

  We walked down the concrete corridor, heads down, invisible to the eyes of the elite passing us in gala dresses and magical suits.

  We reached the side of the stage.

  The Solar Knight was there, ten meters away, bathed in spotlight. He was magnificent. Tall, golden, smiling for the cameras as he waved. His aura was so strong it almost burned my skin.

  But with my enhanced vision, I saw the truth.

  Small tremors in his left hand. Black veins pulsing in his neck, hidden by the high collar of his armor. Cold sweat on his forehead.

  He was hungry.

  The monster inside him was knocking at the door, demanding dinner.

  Beside him, on a velvet table, sat the crystal bottle with the "Victory Nectar."

  I took a deep breath. The smell of expensive perfume and lies filled my lungs.

  "Let's get to work," I whispered.

  I pushed the cart into the light.