“You really mean to tell me that the whole facility is gone. Just like that? Melted into slag?” A deep, tense voice could be heard coming from the speakers of the computer.
“That is correct.” A man replies, his tone not as heavy but just as tense. Had Maximillian been in the room he would have immediately recognised him as the leader of the mobsters that had raided the garbage exchange back when he still could not walk. He possesses a pair of big owlish eyes and long hair, tied into a ponytail. It reaches just past his shoulders.
The man in the monitor exhales a big puff of smoke as he shifts in his seat.
“Who’s the prime suspect? This news has really come out of nowhere, none of the families stand to benefit from this, especially not now. After the last world leader meeting we’ve been completely cut off by arms manufacturers. The bastion has become one of our main suppliers since then…”
“If I may, I still have some things to say.”
“Go ahead, Hakou.” The man, one of the ten dons, waves his hand in a gesture to let his subordinate speak.
“At the time of the incident I came in contact with some of the perpetrators, a group of four. I’m ashamed to admit that we didn’t do a very good job at halting them. They split up and two of them went in to intercept our sixteen man squad…” Hakou cuts off his retelling for a moment as he feels the pain emanating from his most recent injury spike.
“...I don’t know what happened. Out of everyone, I was the only one that made it out without any permanent injuries. One of them had a sword, of all things, and because of him most of the men that were with me are either dead or missing limbs. Weirdest of all the second didn’t go down no matter how many times we shot him, he shielded the swordsman with just his body, no armor or gear, nothing. I know I shot him in the head with my handgun on at least three separate occasions and all I received in response was just a bit of blood trickling down his temple.”
“After the dust had already settled we followed their tracks down to an underground opening within the Bastion leading to a tunnel system.”
“Hold on a second here, Hakou.” The don suddenly speaks out, placing his cigar on the ashtray near him. “There’s a tunnel system, below the Bastion?” Hakou nods.
“How long has that been there for? Is it recently dug with the express purpose of infiltrating the bastion or has it always been there? Give me more details.”
“I can say with certainty that it’s been there for quite a long time. One of the men under my command had been a history major before he joined us. He informed me that the style with which it had been built resembles the one used by some sort of a monarchy from centuries ago, for what it’s worth he also said that their most likely purpose had been as a living space well hidden from the heat of Meteor City.” By this time the Don had pulled out a pen and paper and had begun writing down notes.
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“Have that subordinate further inspect the tunnels and then contact my right hand man to report whatever he’s found.” He puts down the pen after some time.
“Understood.”
The Don leans back into his seat. “Now tell me, I’m not a builder but a tunnel system sounds like it’s pretty damn difficult to miss, especially after you’ve begun digging into the ground to lay the foundations of the buildings you’re about to construct. During it all, nobody thought that it might pose a security risk?”
“I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve heard of it and most of us are still preoccupied with containing the fire.”
“I see.”
A second figure moves into the video displayed by the monitor, they whisper something into the Don’s ear that makes his face harden.
“Hakou, there’s something else of importance that has come to my attention. If you have anything else to report, report it now.” The Don stands up from his seat, reaching his hand off screen to pick up his coat.
“I drew sketches of the four people I encountered.”
“Huh, I never took you for an artist. Send them through then.”
Hakou sends the already prepared files to the Don. It takes a while for them to be downloaded and decrypted - an encryption algorithm possessed only by the higher ranking members of the family.
Still standing, the Don clicks through the images sent.
“I’m guessing that the man with the afro is our ‘tank’” He comments.
“That’s right sir.”
“...I’ll have someone run these through the database and see if anything comes up. Until then, I want you to investigate how the fiasco with the tunnels happened. Get to the bottom of the issue and bring me the ones responsible for it.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Good.” The video suddenly cuts out. All that remains on the monitor is a black screen filled with the words ‘Call ended’.
----------------------------------------
An assistant opens the door leading out of the office as the scowling Don passes through it, followed by a singular person, his bodyguard.
They make it through the corridor, down the elevator of the skyscraper they’re in and into an underground parking lot. The whole way through everyone they pass makes sure to give the two of them ample space to move, doubly so for the bodyguard.
Entering a sleek black limo the Don gives the driver directions as to where he wishes to go before pressing a button that closes the sound-proof window separating the front seats from the rest of the vehicle.
Loosening the tie around his neck and crossing his arms, the Don starts a conversation with the man sitting in the seat opposite of him.
“What do you think, Leech? Is it Hunters?”
“Nishishishi… Nen users? Most certainly, nobody else would dare consider bringing a sword to a gunfight. Hunters? Definitely not.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I’ve seen the guns that are in use. They’re weak, having trouble penetrating bone. Against a normal person they’ll do their job, but against a Nen user?” He points to himself with his thumb, giggling. ”You might as well throw pebbles at them, it will have the same effect. No competent Nen user would let a bullet that weak penetrate their skin, don’t you remember what that man told you?”
“He said that he saw blood.”
“Exactly! Their Nen is weak. Still that doesn’t change the fact that they’re Nen users. I’d suggest that we send our own Nen users to track them down and snuff them out before they become a problem. If they’ve attacked once it’s more than likely for them to attack once more.”
“Humph. Do you think that people like you grow on trees, Leech?”
“Nishishishishi.” Giggling in his odd tone Leech leans back. He raises both his arms and leaves them to rest on the two seats beside him.