"Ben Shar Da'Jin is the urlax you are looking for." a tentacle-mouthed humanoid spoke in broken commontongue.
Len had simply watched as Fawx took the initiative to find information. The drinks they poured in this "tavern" were honestly disgusting. Even with the things labeled "mild", Len was unsure whether a human could survive this toxic sewage flowing down their throat.
"Where can I find, Ben Shar Da'jin?"
"Just follow the trail of scrap and 'natches. You will find his den." the alien took another swig of the toxic waste and fell silent. His eyes dilated and he suddenly fell backward from his seat. His tentacles started foaming and his body twitched wildly, before finally calming down.
Fawx looked at Len in surprise. Was this another power of the progenitor? Did he kill the alien to get rid of their tracks? But the Ghoul only shrugged his shoulders.
"Wasn't me. I swear." Len answered amused.
With all the talking, Fawx had lost count of how many drinks they had and didn't notice because the alien kept matching him. However, how could a humanoid, no matter how genetically far distanced from a human, match up to a genetically modified supernatural monster?
Even when Fawx was just a Descendant, he had simply outdrank the alien until it fell into a coma.
"The trail of scrap and 'natches" was quite literally the name of a busy trading lane. Or rather a gap between rundown structures that housed scrappers, workshops, and prostitutes. After asking around and lining some pockets they found the place of Ben Shar.
This Da'Jin, which was a local term and translated to something like a crimelord, had his hand in spaceship modification and prostitution. While he owned a big dockyard and workshop at the port, he resided at the Silicon Whispers, the biggest luxury brothel of the street.
Bright, gimmicky lights and red velvet tried to cover the grime and decay of the building and its employees. Maybe Len was too ancient, but he felt like he was taking physical damage from looking at this Monolith of Bad Taste.
The horror didn't stop there. Inside, on an elevated throne, sat Ben Shar Da'Jin
"Jappa is that you?!" Len almost exclaimed when he saw the obese body that was squished onto the throne. It was covered in festering wounds, that didn't seem to bother the body's inhabitant. Ben Shar was occupied with groping two aliens that were feeding him with food and booze.
At least Len hoped it was fruits and not some kind of slimy alien eggs.
Aside from the shameless display of debauchery, the ghoul found that the shared roots had some more distinct effects than just having roughly humanoid bodies. The club made him feel nostalgic.
Scantily dressed ladies in cages at the ceiling were dancing to the booming music and flickering light show. the slightly more dressed waitresses displayed their attributes and would leave to give private shows to paying customers.
On top of sharing a genetic origin, they also shared quite a lot of kinks. Fetishes had transcended race and gender. Though it was hard to specify which was what, in this chaos. The scene reminded the ancient ghoul so much of earth, that he almost felt something like homesickness.
"Are you going to turn him?" Fawx pulled him out of his reminiscence.
Len's graceful face distorted, when he looked back to Ben Shar. Len had eaten a lot. Rotten and decomposed bodies, rats, decomposing rats. He did a lot he wasn't proud of to survive as a ghoul on earth.
However, there was no way in hell. Not in a million years would he want to touch this kind of syphilis-ridden dumpster fire of a living being. He had standards! (Now)
"Hypnosis will be enough..." he mumbled disgusted.
As thy approached, they were stopped by a pair of lizard-skinned hunks. Instead of hair, they had mohawks made of spikes, like iguanas. Not to mention that they were roughly three meters tall and their shoulders almost as wide.
"What's your business with the boss?" the mountains of prehistoric tankiness blocking their way asked.
"We need some modifications for our ship," Fawx explained.
In the meantime, Len simply put a spell on the two pea-brains. They stepped aside as if Fawx's explanation was enough and let them through. They passed two thick security doors and entered the red carpet that led up to the throne.
"What do you want? Why didn't Joe and Joel stop you?" Ben Shar asked in a rough voice, the strong booze made him slur.
The two ghouls didn't say anything, as Len worked his magic to subjugate the lard mountain's mind. To his surprise, the man resisted.
"Eh? Aren't you humans? Since when can humans do mind tricks?" he mumbled surprised.
Len sighed. With a quick gesture, the doors of the lounge were closed by the lizardhides at the front.
"I really wanted to avoid this, but you leave me no choice. Fawx, Sick'em!"
"Wait, wha-!" however, the descendant couldn't resist the command. His eyes turned red and he charged at Ben Shar, ripping and tearing at his throat like a wild beast.
The ladies feeding the Da'Jin screamed but were quickly subdued by the ghoul's hypnosis.
"Good boy, come back." the progenitor called back his descended.
Fawx regained his sanity and immediately started puking. Was it the sudden control of his mind? The target's taste? the realization that he had just mauled someone? maybe a mix of everything. these young ghouls all lived in the modern age and could feed on lab-grown organs. They still lacked the mentality of a beast.
As the child was trying to deal with the sudden trauma, Len watched the fat crimelord turn. he didn't give it any of his blood. Someone like this was just a danger to the cause. The terrible wound on his neck slowly healed as did all the other festering spots on his body.
The once-great crimelord turned into a lowly servant of the progenitor Ghoul.
Well, technically he was Fawx's first servant, but whatever his Children owned was also his. The eyes, unfocused and cloudy from booze and drugs, slowly cleared and stared at Len, as if he was the messiah.
"Have you come to your senses?" the ghoul asked
"Yes, Grandmaster."
"Good, You will order your people to modify my ships."
"Yes, Grandmaster. What modifications do you want?"
"All of them."
"Of course."
Why would Len be satisfied with the bare minimum to escape from the federation? Just how his children's servants were his, whatever the servants owned was also his! He saw no need to hold back.
He pulled the old lord off the throne and took place himself. Through Fawx he was able to access all the information that was left in Ben Shar's brain. In a matter of hours, he had turned all important members of the cartel, the leaders, accountants, and experts, into his people.
Some he hypnotized, others he had to turn because it did not work on them. Although their boss was gross, the subordinates gave him a glimpse at the plethora of tastes, the galaxy had to offer for him.
Ben Shar was now a Da'Jin in name only. A scapegoat for the public. Fawx had barely calmed down by the time Len had become the real crimelord here.
Accessing the information of the members he turned to servants, the ghoul got a better understanding of the Zhancor Spacestation's power structure.
There were several gangs operating from the space station, but only five Da'Jins. Of the five, Ben Shar had been the most pathetic, dabbling in two businesses with minor success. it was another reason why they were referred to him.
Other Da'Jins would not make deals with some nameless outsiders.
The other four controlled Drugs, Smuggling, Entertainment, and Technology respectively. The more he found out about the station the more intrigued he got. Seeing how easy it was to take down Ben Shar, the ghoul fostered the desire to take complete control of Zhancor.
A colony for human produce and a space station for more exotic ingredients. the kind of financial and logistic power bundled in this place would also be a big help in the development of his colony.
Len really had more than enough time. They could stay here, maybe for a year or two. Thoroughly restructure the place and put his people in important roles. That actually sounded quite fun to him.