That gruesome night held many terrors for the residents of Portelin. One can travel to nearly any tavern, on any district or alley, and hear the tale of the silent massacre, depicted in a variety of news and whispers. The devil who attempted this cruelty became a living legend in a fortnight. It is said that once you enter the slums, nimble steps that send hurrying echoes across the alleys will plunge you deeper into the darkness of the night, that's when and where you might become one of his victims.
Nevertheless, with every legend that spreads in the taverns of Portelin, there exists a kernel of truth not known to all the folks, and the myth of the devil is one far stranger than fiction and imagination. Hundreds of spies were suddenly killed at dusk, yet not a single howl of battle or a clashing of weapons was heard. For the whole days to follow, some of the homeless were no longer daring enough to linger any further into the devil's den. Swiftly, under the monitoring eyes of the underworld higher ups, the slums were left to be untouched. The already barren wasteland was seeked only by the brave and the desperate ones…
Some of those brave opportunists kept sentencing their men to death by sending them to the devil's den, the treasure of the sea was that tempting after all... And yet to no avail. scores of spies and informants, hordes of thieves and murderers… were all slaughtered by a single man, leaving behind twisted displays of butchered corpses, smothered in blood, gore and death… some of the tycoons even went as far as banding together. In secrecy, the men raised the same banner for once and sent wave after wave of lawless men, hired bounty hunters, and some infamous Portelinian pirates. To the slums they ventured at the twilight of the night, in hopes of unveiling the secrets of whatever or whoever hid the fruit. But nothing seemed to slow the beast's grisly work.
In desperation, some even reached out to the five families of the west, under false hopes and promises. Soon enough, Portelin stood vigil at the raging fire that corrupted her taverns for a day; the devil fruit being auctioned at a future time in the theater drew more attention to the whole ordeal.
Charged with maintaining order and balance between the underworld forces, the big five were adept in handling these matters, not even the bigshots in the pirate world looked down on their influence, especially since they were taken under the protection of Capone Bege the don, one of the scariest monsters in West blue. The structure of the mafia families was constantly in flux due to certain outside interventions, mainly Marewyne the 'magician' and his organization who were both linked to the disappearance of multiple mafia bosses in the past decade.
Claude Brave, patriarch of the brave family, known to have ownership over most trade routes in West blue. Frank Costello, leader of the performers and artists who is frequently active in Portelin. Feudal lord Danzo, previously known to be a cruel pirate, now continous his line of work as a mafia boss. And lastly, Waylen stagehand, known on a surface level to sell all sorts of desirable goods such as beauty and fastion products, legal weapons and the such... although from the inside, his companies operate in the shadows using slave labour.
Together with the don, they made up a total of 300 million berries in bounty. They set their eyes on Portelin, or more accurately the devil fruit it holds. The evidance that's been recently circulating in the black markets convinced them of the truth. They each saw each other as rivals, but for this matter, which could escalate further and draw the marines right into the frey, they quickly set up a meeting of four. Just four were present since the don was not with them this time.
The mafia heads' arrival in Portelin set the taverns on fire, many gangs and lingering thieves quickly opted for the smarter choice and gave up on the fruit. Residents of the districts clenched their hands in nervousness, the hearts beat rhythmically awaiting the war to break out. The turmoil might finally awake the tranquil city's thirst and appetite for bloodshed.
—--
In a room, darkened by the shadows of the massive stone pillars, the only source of light were the minuscule lamps held by the bodyguards of the four. The light of the sun didn't seem to be reaching this hellish place, which was a pity, as it would have perhaps lightened the moody atmosphere, that surrounded the round but arched table and the four carved-from-wood chairs.
"... Whose brilliant idea was it to set the meeting in a fucking brothel house" spoke the hoarse voice of Waylen. His usual wild agressive temper was a big headache for the other three to deal with. The dark skinned man thirty year old man, with features that seemed to be roughened by his never-ending anger, looked to be further agitated by the ongoing moans and screams of pleasure. '... Fucking animals, they only know how to use their third legs' he thought internally. His downcast, frustrated mood was shown for the others in the room to see, the two scrawny slaves behind him shivered in fear of the brutal monster.
"heh heh, careful with that language now, you know our customers paid for the services right, we can't fail them and their stacks of berries now, can we?" responded the amused voice of Danzo the feudal lord. The round, short-statured man was counting with a stack of cash in hands, his face would twitch from time to time to show an expression of pure delight. Nothing excited him more than seeing his pockets filled with those shiny little papers. He turned his lust filled eyes to the neat looking man, who happens to be the richest in this room. With no guards being present behind, which says a lot about his power, his face twitched once again but this time in annoyance and jealousy.
"heh heh, what does the artist think? You don't seem that bothered about what one would consider 'profanity', that's quite unexpected" Danzo spitefully spoke, Waylen shared the same curiosity as he also eyed the neatly dressed man.
"... What love and sex is, but one of the hidden pleasures we strive to taste, perhaps even once in our short lives. Love is young, blossoms through hardships and controversies like a fine floret. As in an artist's palette, there is only one singular dominant color, which provides the meanings of life and art, it is the color of love. This overflowing emotion can never be held down by anything. It is a gaping pit, ready to swallow us all in, every young man and his ambitions, every woman and her gentle dreams, once we are down, some will try to climb up, some are given the chance to run away scot free... " his gentlemanly demeanor held the others by the throat, he closed his eyes for few seconds, only for that dramatic silence to end with his tone turned up a notch or two."... but they refuse! They cling to the illusions of love and sex! Isn't it wonderful?!" the tidy man spoke fanatically with mild eyes that hid mad taints underneath.
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"..." Waylen and Danzo gulped down hearing the end of that speech. The brown clothed never failed to daze them with his unorthodox ways.
"...ummm, You know they paid for sex right? Or fake 'love' as some would say... That's what brothels are for after all…" Danzo had to close his wide-open mouth from speechlessness and the same went for Waylen. They had known the love fanatic Frank Costello for long, the man always disguised himself as a calligrapher to blend in with other guest artists. To the opera houses and theaters he would drift, drowning himself in his own fantasies about love and art. He wore a brown colored suit, with a fancy painter hat and a pair of traditional shoes to go along with the artist persona.
" ahhh, talking of money… Love and art cannot coexist without those sweet cash papers, some men like to make themselves feel rich by counting the things they have that money cannot buy, others will flaunt their wealth and earn fake love along the way. That's their artistic way of living, as an honorable man myself, I cannot fault them" Frank commented with enthusiasm. Which brought the other two to another moment of silence that lasted way too long for someone else's taste.
"... Are we not gonna discuss the actual issue we have at hand?" the fourth agitated voice of Claude, leader of the braves. The most active group of criminals at the current moment, engaged in many inhuman activities. The reason for the patriarch's grumpiness is the recent loss of one of his most competent men, Moriban Brave. He investigated the whereabouts of his subordinate's death in hopes of catching trails of the murderer, only for his efforts to go down in vain, barely achieving anything other than wasting a handful of resources and manpower, which could have been used to fight off that shrewd headache inducing magician and his organization instead.
"hmm, we were talking about the devil fruit, I believe the issue has been handled. Once it's auctioned we will bid the highest amount, none will dare to challenge us, even if they do we can always steal and kill. Isn't that what we initially agreed upon?" Danzo's eyes were still glued on the money. His hands playfully folded the papers like a trickster's does, which got on the others' nerves, but they were too distracted by the topic at hand to point it out.
"no, It's not the damn fruit. It's the devil and whatever the fuck his shadowy identity might be. You know he could be one of those troublesome pirates, he could be that savage barbarian in the south, or one of the joy thriller pirates or perhaps even one of the magician's installed puppets, whose sole purpose would be, if my calculations are right, to mess with our plans…" Claude's grumpy tone and expression didn't suit his appearance, he resembled pretty much any other average mafia boss with a black hat, a black suitcase and classic pants that ended with a pair of stylish, dark-leathered shoes. His dashing face broke the façade quite arbitrarily, but despite the situation he kept talking sense to them. "... You all know quite well that our enemies will not forfeit any opportunity they might chance upon to make us lose our most desired treasure, the devil fruit"
With the response, the mood grew even heavier than before. Serious expressions adorned the four mafia bosses. They have also heard of the legend themselves, and they even happened to witness some of the atrocities committed by the so called devil. The brutalized corpses certainly didn't make for a pleasant sight.
"... My slaves tended to countless gangs and rich brats shattered by the killings, dissected the crime scenes and looked for connections between murders. However the end of the rope doesn't strike us anywhere near" Waylen spoke, resisting the urge to bash the round table and crack it open.
"… hmm we are far from the first to hunt this devil it seems, many bounty hunters and lawless tried." Danzo's conviction grew that this was the work of something beyond demonic. He fidgeted from impatience, his legs writhing in intoxication. 'all of this for a mere devil fruit, well I can't really complain either…' his bands of trained assassins were scattered across Portelin, ready to betray his comrades at any given time, shall the need arise. Even at this moment, despite appearing vulnerable to the untrained eye, two of his best right hand men were sneaking in darkness.
"... Good and evil are not truths, they are born from men and their doings, and each one of us sees the shades differently" the composed Frank commented with his melodic, dramatic voice. Recently, he's been struggling with his art pieces, as if the hunt for the devil has changed him and made his soul restless. Chances are, the killer probably knew they were seeking his whereabouts. He noted how the man continued to play with his hired men, planting fake trails and traces here and there... seemingly delighted in their torment and the agony sown by their failure in catching his trail. Frank lost quite a bit of coin in this hunt and that surely left him awake at night. Though the fashionable man showed none of his internal turmoil to the outside faces.
"huuuh, whoever this wicked man is and whatever he does. Let's just proceed with the plan. Keep your troops at bay, just in case something happens amidst the auction" sighted Claude Brave as he brushed his face with both hands. He really needed some sleep for this day. He had the magician to deal with for a couple days, and now there is this devil that hunts at night. 'if we don't solve this issue, we will become the laughing stock of West blue. At this rate, we have to, at the very least, get our hands on the fruit' he was unwilling to turn back, not after the losses he accumulated.
—--
Unknown to the four heads, an eerie existence spied on their meeting. A frog the size of a full grown camel, with the hands glued to the ceiling of the brothel, the skin blended perfectly with the sunless surroundings. 'Portelin will face a new golden era, I will make sure of it' he endured the uncontrollable desire to jump down using his new frog legs and snap their necks in one swoop. Instead he listened closely to their talks, knowing full well the devil they were talking about at the moment might also be spying on them.
"... Even young brats like me have many friends, siblings… and many depts of affection to repay, just so you wait" he knew the four clowns could not preserve their alliance for long. With the days passing, and their losses getting greater to borne… their lusts, gluttonies, desires, they all will control their moves sooner than later. He dealt with these kinds of people for far too long, one thing he also realized is that these types of criminals could , at any time, easily commit acts that would haunt Portelin for generations as long as their greed dwells deeper… and he knew fully well… that someone had to put an end to their power-seizing families…