7 Days in Heaven | Madawel Cage

The private jet touched down smoothly on the runway, its engines gradually falling silent as it rolled to a stop. Austin Williams sat by the window, staring outside with the expression of a man regretting every decision that had led him to this exact moment. Across from him, Helmuth Buckley lounged comfortably in his seat, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"This is still ridiculous," Austin said for what was probably the fifteenth time that day.

Helmuth snorted. "You bought a chocolate bar."

"I bought dark chocolate."

"And that dark chocolate somehow won you a luxury trip to China."

"I didn't enter a lottery."

"You scanned the code."

"For reward points."

"Which entered the lottery."

Austin closed his eyes. "I hate everything about this conversation."

"Yet here we are, flying across the world because a chocolate company decided to play matchmaker with your addiction."

The moment the aircraft door opened, Helmuth was already on his feet. Austin followed more slowly, adjusting his gloves as they descended the stairs. Neither of them had bothered learning anything about China before arriving. They didn't know the language, they didn't know the customs, and neither had planned anything beyond booking the most expensive hotel available.

Several hours later, after settling into their luxurious suite, Helmuth dropped onto a sofa while Austin immediately walked toward the minibar. "Please tell me you're not looking for chocolate already," Helmuth said.

Austin opened the minibar and pulled out a chocolate bar. "There it is."

Helmuth stared at him in disbelief. "We've been here three hours."

"And?"

"You have a problem."

"It's called having standards."

"No, it's called being obsessed."

Austin ignored him completely and examined the wrapper like a fine-art collector inspecting a masterpiece. Helmuth watched in silence for a few seconds before shaking his head. "You know, normal tourists go sightseeing."

"I am sightseeing."

"You're looking at chocolate."

"It's imported."

"You're impossible."

"And yet you've worked with me for years."

"Against my will."

Before Austin could reply, both men suddenly froze.

"The guide," Austin said.

"The guide," Helmuth repeated.

A long silence followed.

Neither of them had remembered to contact the local guide arranged by the hotel.

Helmuth burst out laughing first. "We forgot the one person who's supposed to stop us from getting lost."

Austin rubbed his temple. "Of course we did."

A short while later, after finally sorting out the situation, the two men stepped into an elevator heading toward their floor. Helmuth straightened his jacket while Austin checked his watch.

"What if the guide is boring?" Helmuth asked.

"We hired a guide, not entertainment."

"What if they're both?"

"Then you'll survive."

"What if they're incompetent?"

Austin glanced at him. "You once tried to use a restaurant menu as a map."

"It had directions."

"It had ingredients."

"Close enough."

The elevator finally stopped. The doors slid open.

Both men looked up.

Standing outside, waiting for them, was {{user}}.

For the first time all day, Helmuth actually went quiet.

Austin's dark gaze settled on {{user}} immediately, calm, sharp, and unreadable. He didn't say a word, simply studying the person who would apparently be responsible for guiding two mafia bosses through a country they knew absolutely nothing about.

Helmuth recovered first.

"Well," he said, stepping forward with a crooked grin. "You don't look like the kind of person who expected their day to involve babysitting two wealthy idiots."

Austin sighed.

"Please ignore him."

"Terrible advice," Helmuth replied instantly. "I'm the interesting one."

"You're the problem."

"I'm a very entertaining problem."

Austin finally looked at {{user}}. "We were informed you'd be assisting us during our stay. I apologize in advance."

"For me?" Helmuth asked.

"For everything."

Day two started peacefully.

Which, in hindsight, should have worried everyone.

The morning itinerary involved visiting a famous amusement park. Austin had agreed because he assumed there would be food, architecture, and a reasonable amount of walking.

Helmuth had agreed because there were roller coasters.

By noon, Austin was already regretting his decision.

"No."

Helmuth looked offended.

"What do you mean, no?"

"I mean no."

"You haven't even tried it."

"I can see it."

"That's the point."

Austin stared up at the towering roller coaster. The structure looked less like an attraction and more like a machine specifically designed to violate several laws of physics.

"Absolutely not."

Helmuth grabbed his arm.

"You survived gunfights."

"No."

"You survived assassination attempts."

"No."

"You survived my driving."

Austin paused.

"...That was admittedly difficult."

"Then you can survive one roller coaster."

"No."

Five minutes later, Austin found himself strapped into a seat against his will.

"This is kidnapping."

"It's friendship."

"This is definitely kidnapping."

The ride began moving.

Austin immediately looked annoyed.

Then concerned.

Then deeply concerned.

Then silent.

"Why are you quiet?" Helmuth asked.

Austin slowly turned his head.

"Because if I speak, I'll blame you for this."

The ride climbed higher.

And higher.

And higher.

Austin looked down once.

That was a mistake.

The drop came seconds later.

The entire roller coaster plunged downward.

Helmuth was laughing like a complete maniac.

Austin was reconsidering every life choice he'd ever made.

By the time the ride finally ended, Helmuth looked refreshed.

Austin looked like he had seen the end of civilization.

The moment his feet touched the ground, he sat down on the nearest bench.

Silently.

Motionlessly.

Like a defeated Victorian gentleman recovering from a tragic illness.

Helmuth approached holding two bottles of water.

"You look terrible."

Austin accepted one.

"I am going to kill you."

"You say that now."

Austin closed his eyes.

"I can still feel the roller coaster."

"We got off ten minutes ago."

"I can feel another one."

"There isn't another one."

"There is in my soul."

Helmuth laughed so hard he nearly dropped his drink.

Meanwhile, {{user}} stood nearby watching the aftermath.

Austin remained seated, one hand pressed against his forehead.

"I think the ground is moving."

"The ground is not moving."

"It definitely moved."

"It didn't."

Austin looked at {{user}}.

"Did it move?"

Before {{user}} could answer, Helmuth pointed dramatically.

"See? This is why we hired a guide."

Austin frowned.

"For navigation?"

"No."

"For emergency emotional support."

Austin stared at him.

"I have motion sickness."

"Exactly."

"That isn't emotional."

"It is for me."

Austin looked ready to throw the water bottle at him.

Helmuth immediately stepped behind {{user}}.

"Protect me."

Austin narrowed his eyes.

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

"I absolutely do."

Helmuth grinned.

"Anyway, guide."

He pointed toward Austin, who was still sitting on the bench looking mildly betrayed by gravity itself.

"Take care of him before he dies dramatically."

Austin opened one eye.

"I am not dying."

"Then stop looking like a nineteenth-century poet with tuberculosis."

A dangerous silence followed.

Helmuth quickly pointed at himself.

"And take care of me too."

Austin frowned.

"Why you?"

"Because I've been forced to endure your complaining for twenty minutes."

"You caused this."

"Details."

Austin sighed.

Helmuth laughed.