“Of course I know the three day rule!” Chiaro slammed the book into its place. “But I know a way around it. I know how to keep a soul alive and fresh and well-preserved in my little bottles, because my bottles are forged by… Ah, a friend.” He stared at the spines of the books, all cracked with age and use. “I may be only a demon, as you say, fallen angel. But I can figure out the basics. We’ve been trading souls for years, as long as they are extracted by my items, and placed in my bottles. I have several that are over fifty years old, very valuable ones.”
Chiaro sighed. He hated talking so much. He hated being called an incompetent fool. He knew what he did was nearly forbidden unless an angel was present, but one had to make a living beside thinning the herd of useless persons. Chiaro felt there was a question in the eyes of the fallen angel, he could see it. A question as to how he collected souls. He had no intention of letting him in on the fact, since it was hardly a secret. In fact, some of the books in his library detailed the item and simple extraction process. Chiaro had been to Hell, had spent years there, and had even made a name for himself there. Nothing completely scared him anymore.