Scene 19 - May 29th

Exterior City, Late Evening

Quinn Kaufman

We chatted as we went through the city, light banter and jokes that help keep our minds active as we leapt from rooftop to rooftop, passing through the Crows’ territory without incident. That wasn’t surprising, really - Hertz’s gang was mostly invested in sex work and gambling, nonviolent crimes that heroes typically didn’t involve ourselves in.

The Buff Boys, in contrast, sold drugs - they were best known for providing power-granting drugs like brawn, but they also peddled opiates, cocaine, meth, and anything else that could get you high - operated protection rackets, performed blackmail, and were generally scumbags. Not only that, they were expanding - or trying to, at least.

So as we began to reach the edge of the Crows territory that bordered the Buff Boys, our conversation faded. This was the most likely area to encounter a serious incident and, sure enough, my sense of presence picked up on scuffling a block or two off our patrol route.

“Hey boss, I’m picking up something from over there,” I said to Canaveral as we landed on a roof overlooking Kohei Street. “I can’t tell exactly what, from this distance, but I think it’s fighting.”

He nodded. “We’ll check it out. Anima, what’s the ETA for the police?”

“Three minutes, in this area. You want me to call them?”

“Put them on notice, but don’t call yet,” he decided. “It might be nothing, after all. Go ahead and call them in if we get into a fight, though.”

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“Got it.”

We began moving, and it took less than a minute for us to reach the rooftops overlooking the fight. Two Buff Boys, steam rising from golden skin, as well as three members of the Crows - identifiable by the suit jackets they wore - were standing in a ring around another member of each gang, jeering and hooting at the pair who were actually fighting. Some sort of cross-gang fight club, maybe?

“Surprisingly civilized, delegating just one fighter from each gang,” I noted. “The Buff Boys are usually a bit more barbaric in their beatings.”

“Fits for the Crows, though.”

“Clever Crows will constrain a campaign, but brutish Buff Boys belie the benefits of such brawling bargains.”

“How do you do that?” Canaveral wondered.

“Do what?” I asked innocently.

He shook his head. “Let’s see what they do when I drop in. I’ll try and diffuse the situation without fighting - you stay up here and be ready to back me up.”

“Got it.”

He flipped over the edge of the building, landing easily on the ground beside the gangsters, and casually hooked his hands in his belt. “Evening, gents. Having a nice night?”

“Canaveral, thank god you’re here!” One of the Crows immediately cried. “These thugs came out of nowhere and attacked my friend!” The other three nodded in agreement, theatrically patting the one who had been fighting on the shoulder.

I sighed into my earpiece. “Sure, that sounds likely.”

“It’s a matter of plausible deniability,” Anima noted. “Do we believe them? No. But it lets the Crows maintain a reputation as respectable members of society rather than gangsters.”

“Does it work?”

“Everyone knows they’re a gang, but they’re seen as the civilized option, so... sort of?”

Canaveral tilted his head to the side, eying the Buff Boys. “Interesting story. What’s your take?”

“Get the fucker!” one of the Buff Boys shouted, and the Crows scattered.

Anima tsked. “They always do this,” she complained. “I wish they’d do something new. Oh well... the regulars will be there in two minutes.”

I nodded. “Might as well lend a hand before they get here,” I said, and flipped off the edge.