Medici immediately wrote in dust, "Hey, brat! Do you even understand negotiation? Negotiation means finding a balance both sides can accept and profit from. You can't just take without giving anything, can you?"
"What I'm giving is standing here and chatting with you, Your Excellency Medici."
Edward said, "And constantly giving you chances to fool me, bluff me, and make me change my mind and let you out."
"..."
After a long while, Medici squeezed out a sentence. "You're clearly sitting."
"All right, then it's sitting here and chatting with you, and then..."
"Shut up."
"You got it."
Edward thought for a moment, then reached into his Spatial Pocket and took out the Brass Rod he had retrieved from Sefirah Castle beforehand. "Your Excellency Medici, someone as knowledgeable and experienced as you, who's eaten more salt than I've eaten noodles, must know what this rod is used for, right?"
No sooner had he finished speaking than the Underground Palace began to tremble slightly. A dozen or so seconds later, a voice mixing Medici's with those of the other two evil spirits came through the gap in the door:
"I'll tell you Bethel's complete three-part honorific name. Give me that rod."
The sudden voice gave Edward a sharp start. He immediately raised his guard, ready to fight or flee at any moment.
"So you could speak all along, Your Excellency Medici? Were you just messing with me these past few times?"
Medici spoke again, but this time the other two evil spirits' voices were no longer mixed in. "I don't have the fucking time to mess with you. It's because of that thing in your hand that I can get my voice through to you."
"???"
Edward froze. "Really? I don't believe you."
As he spoke, he stuffed the Brass Rod