The Devil’s Broker – Chapter 3 – Novel

Chapter Three – The First Break

The alleys of Saddar were quieter than usual that night. Stray cats prowled near shuttered shops, and the flickering tube lights gave everything a sickly glow. Daniyal pulled his jacket tighter and lit a cigarette, though his hands were still trembling from the nightmare.

He wasn’t looking for trouble. Trouble found him.

A woman’s desperate cry echoed from a corner street.
“Bachao! Please, somebody help us!”

Daniyal stopped. His instincts screamed to walk away, keep his head down, like always. But his cursed hands burned hot again, almost pushing him forward.

He turned the corner and saw them: a frail woman clutching her son, maybe twelve years old. The boy’s eyes glowed faintly green, his body twitching like he was possessed.

Opposite them stood a figure tall as two men, skin like burnt coal, its smile wide and sharp. The demon’s voice was smooth, mocking.

“The contract was signed. The boy’s life is mine.”

The mother sobbed. “He didn’t know! He just wanted to pass his exams, he’s a child!”

Daniyal froze. He knew the look of a fresh deal. Some desperate kid must’ve whispered a wish into the shadows, and a demon had answered.

He muttered under his breath, “Idiot… demons don’t hand out tuition scholarships.”

The demon turned, eyes locking onto Daniyal.
“Ah… the broker himself. I wondered when we would meet.”

Daniyal swallowed hard but forced a grin. “What can I say? Business is small, Karachi’s even smaller.” He flicked his cigarette aside. “Why don’t you leave the boy, and I won’t embarrass you in front of your… uh… ghostly cousins?”

The demon’s laughter rattled the windows.
“You cannot break a contract, human. Only we can collect.”

But Daniyal’s hands flared red, brighter than ever before. He looked down, shocked. The markings shifted, forming words he didn’t understand. Instinctively, he reached out and touched the boy’s forehead.

The glowing script leapt from Daniyal’s skin onto the boy, wrapping around him like chains. Then, with a blinding flash, it shattered. The boy collapsed, unconscious but breathing.

The demon staggered back, eyes wide.
“Impossible… how did you”

Daniyal stared at his hands, still trembling from the power surge.
“I… broke it?” he whispered. Then louder, with a crooked grin: “Guess I just invented refunds for demon deals.”

The demon shrieked, lunging forward, claws slicing through the air. Daniyal barely dodged, grabbing a broken pipe from the ground.

“Alright, ugly,” he said, circling. “Let’s see how you handle Saddar-style customer complaints.”

The fight was messy. Daniyal wasn’t a fighter; he ducked, swung wildly, and used street smarts. He threw sand in the demon’s face, smashed a bottle against its arm, and when it cornered him, he thrust his glowing hand into its chest.

The creature howled, dissolving into ash that blew away with the wind.

Silence returned to the alley. Only the boy’s soft breathing remained.

The mother looked at Daniyal with tearful gratitude.
“You… you saved him. How can I ever”

“Don’t thank me,” Daniyal cut her off, shaking his head. “Just… tell him not to make stupid wishes again. Tuition may kill him, but demons will kill him faster.”

The woman nodded, clutching her son.

As they hurried away, Daniyal leaned against the wall, panting. His hands were still glowing faintly. He laughed to himself, bitter but relieved.

“Great. Now I’m officially the guy who cancels demon deals. Just what I needed.”

But deep down, under the sarcasm, a strange feeling stirred, something he hadn’t felt in years.

It was… purpose.