Chapter 1: The “How to make the kid grow up” Plan

Francis was in his special place. The wooden vessel rocked against the light green waves as Francis sat comfortably inside, the rhythm it made against the crashing waves lulled him into a sweet slumber. Francis often found himself alone on his small boat. He was a dot on the large expanse of sea around him and yet he so sure the waves would never betray him or lead him astray. Francis loved this place, it rekindled his memories of the times his father and him would let hours go by as they floated back to back, only an oversized canoe separating them from the open sea and a watery grave. With the wind in their hair, a fishing rod in their hands and the feeling like that moment could last a life time. It was during those moments Francis could safely say he had everything he wanted in life and that he was truly happy. The soft sound of water slapping gently against small hull had woke him up. Francis slowly regained consciousness, the rocking of the boat slowly making him come to his senses. It was like peace on earth for Francis after everything he had been through this year, it had been a long time since he’d felt inner peace such as this. Then his beautiful day dream came crashing down on him with the sound that had haunted him throughout his childhood, a sound he had hoped never to hear again.

“Oi you lazy ass, it’s time for dinner!” the voice came from a grey haired old man, with leathery skin and a deep and coarse voice. He stood on the white sanded beach waving his evil stick in the air, looking like he just escaped from a nursing home by the skin of his teeth. Judging from the mix of anger, stress and anxiety that appeared on his face they must have not treated him well. Francis grinned at the imaginary backstory he'd given his grandfather.

A two storey cottage sat on the edge of a lush green jungle where the trees began to clear. It stood on a platform tall enough that a grown man could walk underneath the house without having to duck or crane his neck. A collection of wooden steps lead to the also wooden veranda, a set of wooden rails on each side could be held on to so that you wouldn’t slip, as you got to the veranda the railings opened out to surround the rest of the wooden platform, disappearing into the side of the outer walls. The smell of dry but not musty wood hanging heavy in the air, the scent invading your senses as well as your clothes the longer you stayed beside it. On the veranda was an old lacquered oak bench that sat under a window beside the front door, on the other side of the door was a wooden rocking chair that smelt of pine, with a vine of flowers was carved enveloping the chair from the bottom upwards. The door was plain and simple with the lingering smell of what used to be an ash tree, but its frame had the same design from the rocking chair coiled around its edges. In short it was a beautiful house that looked like an arsonists dream come true.

With the beach being maybe a hundred meters away the sound of the waves gently crashing against the white sand could be heard from the porch. Looking out from the outstretched railings Francis could clearly see the setting sun, becoming massive in size as the water began to swallow its light, revealing the lengthy convex beach that caved inwards. The once green sea adopted an orange hue changing from one shade to another as the waves danced under the setting sunlight. Two jagged slopes rose from the water on either side of the sun and moved inwards to make up the surrounding mist topped mountain regions, where thick fogs hid their tallest peaks behind Francis. He looked out to the horizon as bright orange lights danced on his bare arms and shirt, taking up most of his view. He took a deep breath and exhaled, his body feeling as if it was breathing for the first time. As the suns light began to fade and the darkness took over, the sound of the jungle awakening could be heard all around the cottage, the sounds of nocturnal insects and beasts realising the day had gone and the time for creatures of the night had come. Sick with the sight of nothingness the smell of his grandfather’s cooking reached Francis’ senses and tempted him to go inside, and with a convincing rumble of his stomach he marched inside the hut, thinking.

Francis thought of all the rich people who paid absurd amounts of money to go to places like these.

-I guess if I had money like them a fortune is a small price to pay to take a glimpse of a real paradise -

“You know I thought soldiers were supposed to active all the time, like Rambo or something.” The old man nagged, rice flying from his mouth, “Why don't you go outside and kill a rattlesnake with your bare hands? That's what soldiers should do on their free time! Not sitting on a boat all day!” the old man never let go of the thought that soldiers were always soldiers and were never anything else, not writer or a teacher or a friend. They were always just soldiers.

“I’m not a soldier anymore gramps,” Francis sighed as he ate his rice, “I don't do that stuff anymore.”

The old man was nearing his 65th birthday and death looked like it was the last thing on his mind with how lively the old geezer was. Heck the old man was probably the last thing on Death’s mind too; Pappy Magalone always said that death was too busy with other things, that death had no time to wait for an old man like him to give up. The old man was unexpectedly healthy for, you know, being an old man! He could still beat Francis hard enough that Francis would flinch whenever his granddad raised his hand a little too high. Beatings were common in the Magalone household.

“Oh yeah, I forgot you’re a sissy. Freaking noob. If you're gonna spend a whole day at sea at least catch some fish next time will ya?”

-Yeah and I’ll shove it down your old ass throat then we’ll see how loud you can shout -

“I know what you’re thinking boy. You’re asking for a beating” His grandfather glared at him.

-How the hell? Is he psychic? – Francis seriously thought about whether or not his grandfather could read his mind or not as he stared at the old geezer, wondering if he had any supernatural talent that wasn’t beating a child or shouting at the top of his lungs.

After his father’s death Francis played Royal Road for something he felt was a lifetime, trying to escape from the pain he felt, hiding from everyone, hiding from his loss. Then when he was forcefully made to leave the game out he found out everything was gone, he had lost more than he thought he did and it pained his poor heart even more. The memory of that day was still fresh in his mind.

***

SYSTEM ERROR

Forced log-out: interference from outside the game has caused you to automatically log-out when this message ends. Goodbye.

The red flashing lights that took up the whole of his vision had left as quickly as it came, leaving only darkness. Francis tried to open his capsule but it was stuck, he tried a short kick in desperation which was followed by the click of the lock opening. Francis fell vertically out of his capsule. Face flat on the floor, the pain fresh on his face he got to his knees and looked up.

“That’s why it was so bloody heavy!”

“Really? I couldn’t even tell the difference.”

“Liar. I thought you were crying for a second with so much sweat on your face.”

“Was not. Its ‘cause it’s a hot day, that's all.”

“Whatever mate, just wipe that crap from your forehead, you’re sweating so much you're starting to look like a fountain. You're making me thirsty.”

“Shut up!”

“Oh that was great comeback. You sure showed me.”

“Well if you’re so smart and I’m so dumb why are we doing the same thing for a living?”

“Ha~ you have a good point, the world really is unfair.”

“Yeah the world is too cruel to the poor.”

“Too cruel indeed” Both men sighed in harmony.

Francis watched as the two men bickered, and finally realized the situation he was in.

“Who are you?! Why are you kidnapping me!?” Francis screamed at the top of his lungs, his breathing getting heavier by the second,”What the hell is going on here!!”

The two men finally decided to acknowledge him; one was huge brute that easily made up two or maybe three times the size of Francis, he had dark brown hair in sweaty clumps that stuck to his forehead and temples as well as an array of freckles that decorated the space under his small beady eyes and around his stumpy nose and nearly the rest of his rotund face. He was wearing a white T-shirt that looked like it was in pain with dark patches that covered the cloth; sweat was pouring from his brow. The other man was taller but only slightly, he had deep slanted eyes that were framed by his incredibly bushy eyebrows and the dark shadows underneath his eyes, a pointed nose protruded from his face and was hard not to concentrate on if you might have had a conversation with him. He also had sweat dripping from the matted light brown locks on his head and his sharp cheek bones all the way down to his angular jaw and pointy chin before dripping off and onto the carpet below. There was an identical white T-shirt that hung off his body, swaying in the non-existent breeze. They both wore identical black trousers and identically shiny shoes. It was as if The Blues Brothers had hit rock bottom, but kept their image. Looking at Francis they bellowed in amusement, after taking a few deep breaths moments later to calm down they spoke.

“We aint no kidnappers you little brat!” the fat man shouted.

“We’re bailiffs.” He said proudly.

“And we’re here to take everything that’s worth anything.” The skeletal man said with a smirk.

“Courtesy of your late father, our employers’ debtor. Sorry kid it’s just business.”

“Yeah, sorry kiddo it’s just business.” The sweaty man echoed.

And with that they left taking everything worth anything in the Magalone household, leaving only the smell of sweat behind.

***

It had been a year or so since Francis decided he would be worth something in his fathers’ eyes and joined the army, even though he wasn’t there to see him now Francis would never regret his decision. Sometimes he wished his father could know how much Francis has changed and that he did do something useful with his life as his father used to say. Francis likes to think he would have been proud of him.

Bzzt Zzzt ZzzZzzT

“Goddamn mosquitoes,” Pappy Magalone chanted as he hunted down the evil insects with his electrified tennis racket of doom. The smell of roast meat soon filled the air. If this had been a few minutes ago, Francis would be gagging from the smell and most likely choke on his food.

After a year and a bit of military service, Francis was discharged from the military for reasons he hasn’t told anybody yet. So when the day came for him to leave he had know no idea where to go, after hours of self conflict he bought a plane ticket and decided he had to see the old man. Time with the army had changed him; however he’d die before he had to start living by himself.

One night, amidst the thunder and the pouring rain there was a knock on his door, the old man with his stick in his hand opened the door cautiously. With the door fully open, the old man stared into the eyes of a giant. Francis had grown and extra inch that year making him six foot, although a common sight for Francis, Pappy Magalone hardly ever saw the creatures. The old man saw a man who towered him, fear kept the old man standing; the man in the rain had short cropped hair, toned looking but not bulky arms. A flash of lightning showed that he wore a grey T-shirt that was fitted to his body and DPM trousers which were tucked into boots that hugged the area above his ankles where the lacing started. A huge camouflaged rucksack hung off one shoulder; however the old man failed to see any of these details, the man’s eyes were the colour of night, the whites of his eyes making them even darker. These eyes felt familiar to the old man, he began to notice the face that bore them. A flash of lightning revealed his face. The old man wept and his legs crumpled as he saw his grandson’s face. The old man cried until he choked on his own tears, eventually stopping when Francis wrapped his arms around him as he joined him on the floor.

And so here he was. Francis fished when he was free and farmed when he wasn’t. Not the most dazzling life but he liked it here. He loved being with his grandfather too.

“Oi Francis I’m kicking you out.” His grandfather said casually, “you’re a lazy bastard and you eat too much. I can’t afford you.”

Francis sat there mid-chew staring at his grandfather.

-Did I just hear him right? Did he put magic mushrooms in my food? WHAT THE HELL!?-

Francis’ mind filled with all the excuses that meant he misheard his grandfather.

“Me and your aunt decided you can’t be a boy forever, you gotta go take care of yourself.” He paused, “Now listen here, your aunt Mari found a place not too far from your old place and we got it covered thanks to what your Dad left you.” He paused again, “I know it’s a big step for you but it’s something you gotta do. You got the money from your year with the grunts right? So don’t be begging us for money unless you’re done eating the grass in your back garden.” Pappy Magalone paused and looked at Francis in the eye a final time, “You’re flight leaves tomorrow. Eat your food. Pack your things. We leave in the morning.”

With that said he got up and went to bed.

Francis thought what he couldn’t say,

-FFUUUUUUUUUUUUU -

Pappy Malone shed a manly tear after waving off his beloved grandchild. He left the airport and called for a taxi the moment Francis disappeared behind security. On his way home he recalled the conversation he had with his daughter a few days back over the phone.

“Hello?”

“Oh, hello Dad how’s everything?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“That’s good. So how is it taking care of Francis?”

“That’s that thing, we gotta do something about the kid.”

“Huh? What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

“Mari, I doubt have enough years left to take care of another child.”

“Don't worry dad if that ever happens I’ll take care of our little brat. Why are you worrying anyway? You’re like a freaking cockroach!” Mari laughed.

“HUH? What’d you say you little brat? You’re lucky Francis took your place as my punching bag!” He retorted, “ Anyways we got a real problem on our hands, the brat’s still a brat and it doesn’t look like that’s changing anytime soon. I’m worried about the kid you know? What’s gonna happen when we aren’t around?”

“Yeah, yeah, I see where you’re going Dad. I'm worried about him too. So what do you suggest we do? It’s not like the kid’s gonna change just like that.”

“I know, I know. That’s why we’re gonna make it impossible for him not to sort himself out.”

“Okay, and how do suggest we do that? Are you gonna throw him in the freaking forest old man?”

“Hey that’s not so bad! But I got a better idea...”

“What?”

“We buy his own place.”

“WHAAAAAAAT...?”

“Just trust me this will open his eyes, he’ll finally be introduced to the real world.”

*silence*

“Hello? Mari, you still there?”

*heavy breathing*

After hours of trying to persuade his daughter that it was a good idea, it was finally decided that with the savings he has Pappy Magalone will buy Francis his own apartment, nothing special just a place good enough not to die. And after an even longer period of persuasion and under the threat that Pappy Magalone would sell his house and move in with her, Aunt Mari gave up and said, “Alright I got it. If the kid’s dying of starvation, I’ll be there to rescue his skinny ass.”

And so the ‘How to make the kid grow up plan,’ came into existence.

- Kid. You better not mess this up. – Pappy Malone silently prayed.

Francis never liked civilian plane rides, there were too many people – he never liked people either. Nodding or shaking his head when he had to, and even saying a word every now and then, he somehow got past security, his suitcase trailing behind him and his military rucksack slung over his shoulder. Francis Magalone finally made it back to London, plane tickets courtesy of the old man.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

– Best birthday gift ever – Francis celebrated in his mind. Home sweet home, if he could still call it his home.

Aunt Mari was waiting for him at a nearby restaurant, it was the first time he’d seen her since he stopped contact with all his family when he joined the army. When Pappy Malone told her that Francis was back she wanted to drop everything and see him, but he told her not to, she still had her life to manage and Francis didn’t want to get in the way of anything. Of course she didn’t care about what Francis thought and was already packing her bags as they spoke, it had to take a little time and Francis threatening her that he’d would leave his granddad’s house and find somewhere else and she would never see him again, until he decided otherwise. This only managed to make her even more angry, like slapping a bull, but in the end she decided to let it go if he came to see her soon, which Francis agreed to, although not this soon.

She was just like he remembered. Aunt Mari could be considered by society as a young woman since she only recently entered her late 20’s, 29 to be exact, if Francis remembered correctly. His grandfather used to tell Francis that when his dad and Aunt Mari were just little kids, he used to get confused which one was which. She had some of his Dad’s facial features: high cheek bones and wide black eyes you couldn’t mistake for dark brown, though slanted enough to tell she was from south east Asia, with our family or maybe even our country’s international trademark - straight black hair. What separated them was Aunt Mari’s small rounded nose, thin lips that were a lighter pink than his father’s and higher cheekbones that made her eyes look smaller than they really were. Francis’ aunt was a beautiful woman, though he had never thought of her like that, he treated her like his mother ever since he could remember. He used to lay his head and sleep on her long curvy legs while she stroked his face and hair with the delicate fingers on her small hands, sometimes she would put her slim arms around his shoulder when they walked together. Her small form hid her aggressiveness something she shared with the rest of Francis’ family, he remembered trying his best as a kid when she visited because seeing her fury once had scarred him emotionally. Today she wore her hair in slight curls that made it look like a curtain of black waves under moonlight, complimented by her bright flowery sundress and the light brown handbag that was on the table. Francis was related to this woman, people used to think she was his mother all the time, and he’d never correct them. She turned her head and finally noticed him. She flashed him her trademark smile and Francis used all his strength to hold back his tears. She rushed to his side and hugged him.

“Long time no see brat.” She spoke with a touch of nostalgia in her voice.

They sat and ate while exchanging stories, filling each other in on what they’ve missed. Francis found out that aunt Mari wasn’t a lonely old woman who lived with cats instead of her sanity, like he thought she would have been when he returned. On the other hand she was in an almost year long relationship with a man who she planned to marry, they were engaged. Francis almost passed out from shock when he heard the news.

“Oi you rude little bastard! I wasn’t planning to spend the rest of my life alone you know.” She grumbled in offense.

“I really thought you would.” She punched his shoulder, “ Ow! Child abuse!”

“You’re not a kid anymore, even though you’re still a brat. I didn’t forget it’s your 19th today, just in case you were wondering.” She beamed at him, “I got you the perfect present.”

Francis slept on the drive to his new place of residence. He woke up to shouts to glee.

“Wake up! We’re here!”

“Ahhh” Francis groaned as he came back to his senses.

“Follow me!” Aunt Mari practically giggled as she shook the keys in front of him. “Hurry up!”

“Yeah yeah.” Francis spoke unenthusiastically.

The car locked behind him as he walked into his new apartment building. His apartment was on the top floor, the 20th floor, so it was a long elevator journey with a very excited aunt.

*Ding*

They finally reached the top. Room 206 was the last door on the right, just a straight walk from the elevator. Inside was a huge living room, too big for just one person. Francis could see three doors one on each corner of the room, two bedrooms and one bathroom like his aunt told him earlier, there was no carpet only a wooden floor that reminded him of his grandfather and a lone light bulb that hung from a cable on the ceiling, currently on. There were only two things that stood out in the room, one was the absence of furniture and the other was the thing behind Aunt Mari. In the middle of the room was a rectangular shaped object with a white sheet of cloth over it. Aunt Mari had rushed to the mystery object when they entered the room and had waited after Francis had stopped looking around and focussed on her. She pulled hard on the sheet.

“Tada!"

It was a capsule.

Before Aunt Mari left, she told Francis the “Dos and Don’ts” of living alone as well as giving him a handbook the size of a short novel. After telling Francis that if he wanted something he’d have to get it himself, she kissed him goodbye and that Ollie – her boyfriend – had left him a mattress as a gift in one of the rooms. With a loud bang of the door Francis was left alone with his mattress and Royal Road.

There was no time to lose. It had been a painful year alone. Too many things had happened; life had let him down more times than he had expected it too. And finally he was reunited with the one machine which could bring him happiness. Francis stepped toward the machine, and another, until his finger tips touched the cold ceramic casing. He hesitated. Did he really want to do this all over again? Was he really the same as before? Wasn't he a changed man? Francis stood there facing one of the biggest obstacles in his life – laziness, simply not caring about what happens. He knew if he entered this godly machine then everything he’d done to change himself would vanish, he would end up as just another game addict. But that wasn’t him anymore, he wasn’t just going to shut himself away and hide in one of his games. He faced his problems now, like a real man.

-That isn’t me anymore. I need to find a way to make some money. I have to survive. –

He quickly stepped away from the machine. Unpacking his things, he thought of all the things he could do for a living from now on.

-I could be a fireman or policeman. They would gladly accept a military man like me. – He thought to himself.

-I could do manual labour, there’s always some sort of construction going on, right? - He tried to re assure himself.

-I can always be a store clerk. I mean I don't hate people that much! – He tried to convince himself, unsuccessfully.

With the thought of eating grass and wondering what it would taste like heavy on his mind Francis turned to the one place in the world that could give him what he needed – the internet. With his new beloved laptop Francis decided to look for an answer.

-It hasn’t changed much in a year, still full of cats-

After looking any sort of job he thought he could do, from washing dishes and cleaning streets to holding doors open and parking people’s cars, Francis’ future was looking bleaker by the minute. Getting tired of finding nothing, Francis decided he do a little research on what he’s missed in the gaming world this past year. He didn’t have to look any further to before something caught his eye. A newspaper from last year had the front page title of, “Boy sells avatar for 3 billion won.”

-No. Freaking. Way. – Francis could not believe what he just read.

After reading a little more, he found out that at the time 3 billion won was equal to almost £2 million.

-How could I miss what’s probably the biggest win in gaming history since gaming tournaments became practically extinct! –

The reason for Francis not knowing about this great event was that there was no way he could have known. Even though the virtual reality system was used in army training, not strictly known to the public, it had its own local area network which wasn’t connected to the rest of the world, and the commanding officers listed the internet as “distracting” and therefore prohibited its use. Now if Francis had friends at this early point in his army career then they probably would have told him about it. Also if people didn’t think he was weird and avoided him he might have even over heard it. Past this point his comrades in arms felt it was old news, which is why Francis never found out during his time with the army. After the army he spent his time on an island in the third world, with internet access but with no laptop, and by then it almost been a year. He could have watched T.V. but Francis was too busy enjoying life in paradise and fishing to care about television. This finally leads us to the present day.

-I can’t believe I missed something like this! – Francis thought in frustration. This single piece of news gave Francis a brain wave.

-Now I'm definitely sure I can make money like this. –

He searched long and hard for a way to make money through gaming, he sorted out all the sites that could scam you from the trustworthy ones, and finally he was left with all the sites he could use to make money. After evaluating each one he was left with two sites, one was the number one site dealt with selling off in-game items for real money, and the other site was called Yorozuya it was a site where people could send requests to complete, from partying with you to a certain level or just finding you an item or even hire a member as a bodyguard or a mercenary. The site would give your request to one or more of its agents to complete all for a little bit of cash, and depending on your contract, a bunch of other stuff too.

Francis decided that he wouldn’t be able to get any worthwhile items that would end up getting sold on the auction site any time soon, so he decided he’ll check it out once he gets an item that could make him some real money. So that meant he only had one choice remaining.

He stared at the Yorozuya application form in confusion.

-Are these questions serious? What kind of people are these guys looking for? They sound like greasy old men that would take advantage of a poor little girl’s financial situation – Although he thought this, Francis didn’t care.

Yorozuya Application Form

Thank you for your interest in becoming a Yorozuya member.

Character name: Exul

Email Address: [email protected]

Character Gameplay time: 0 hours

Current Level: 1

Character creation date: After I fill out this application.

1. What type of payment would you like to receive?

- Money, if not in-game currency and items can do, as long as I get paid.

2. How much would you like to be paid?

- Any amount, as much as you can, as long as I get paid.

3. What jobs are you willing to do?

- Anything, as long as I get paid.

4. What jobs are you not willing to do?

- Nothing, as long as I get paid.

5. Why did you choose to become a Yorozuya?

- So that I can get paid.

6. Do you play the game frequently?

- I will even if I don't get paid.

7. How long do you intend to be a Yorozuya member?

- As long as I get paid.

Thank you for applying to become a Yorozuya member. This application will be sent directly to our website which will then be screened by one of our experienced members. If your application has passed our requirements, we shall contact you with further details.

Meanwhile Ben, a young Yorozuya member somewhere in Royal Road, had finally logged-out and was just getting ready for bed. Now as one of the members responsible for recruiting and the new recruits of an expanding business, he had to regularly check for any applicants as well as jobs which could be given to any of the new recruits as well as to accept only those suitable to became a member.

* Logs on to Yorozuya *

*Clicks on job requests*

*Scrolls down*

*sigh*

-Why are there ever any job requests our lowbies can do? Work ethic isn’t what it was before – He sighed.

*Clicks exit*

*Clicks on new applicants*

*Clicks first application*

After going through dozens of applications of people who were either asking for way too much money or just weren’t ambitious enough to work as a Yorozuya member, Ben was worn out. He yawned thinking to himself he might just smash his computer if he see’s any more of these applications. Just as he was about to log out, something new came up.

New Message

-I might as well do one more. This is a lucky bastard to catch me just before I got to log out –

As Ben the Yorozuya read the new application form on his screen, all he could think was how ridiculous it was.

-WTF? Is this guy hallucinating? Must be some strong stuff! – Ben was laughing his ass off.

He could absolutely not believe that this was serious.

-Am I getting trolled? –

It was minutes after reading it again and again for his own amusement that Ben decided to share this with his colleagues. Sending it to as many Yorozuya members that were online as he could and waiting to see their reactions.

The Yorozuya forums went nuts. All online members had something to say:

-LMAO where did you find this guy?

-Huh? He hasn’t even started playing yet?

-Come on. Be real I know you, made it up

-Imagine the look on his face if he see's that his character name's taken.

-He sounds desperate for some cash.

-Hahaha no freaking way!

-Sounds like a greedy bastard.

-The quality of our members is just going downhill.

-If this was a girl, we do some real dirty stuff!

-Freaking psycho pervert, the police haven't caught you yet?

-Come on it was a joke! The guy said he's willing to do anything! ;)

After a barrage of insults and even psyche analysis provided by the graceful members of the Yorozuya they determined that whatever this was, even though they found it hilarious, they had to mark it as spam and have it deleted. At that moment Big Boss jumped in.

-What’s going on Ben?

-Oh it’s nothing boss just some punk playing games

-Oh really? What kind?

-Here lemme show you. Check your inbox

Big Boss couldn’t believe what he just read. It didn’t make him laugh, but instead it spoke to him, making him remember something’s he would rather forget.

-...

-Boss? You there?

-Yeah I’m here.

-It’s stupid right? Don't worry I was about to delete it.

Big boss couldn’t believe what he just read. This boy was in many ways just like Big Boss when he was younger. A guy who needed money and had to do it any way he could. It reminded him of the many struggles he had to face just so he could eat for the day, all those people who made fun of him and everyone who looked down on him, the humiliation he lived with but he never gave up. If they could only see him now, 'never underestimate the poor and desperate' he always said.

-...

-Boss?

-No. Don't

-Don't what?

-Don't delete it. Accept him.

-HUUUH?

-Just do what I say.

-Erm yeah sure okay. Are you sure?

-Yeah, I'm sure.

-Is this a good idea I mean he's just trolling us

-Do it. Now.

-Yes sir

-Good.

And with that Francis Magalone became a proud new member of the Yorozuya family. He just didn’t know it yet.