Lantana
The Woodlands
Vito
Vito breathed heavily as he looked over at Frère. The Glaceon’s breathing was starting to become steady, and his ice-blue chest rhythmically heaved up and down. His eyes had finally closed, but there was still some drool on his chin.
“You did a good job, Vito,” Lucrezia gently said.
“One of them got away, and he poisoned Frère,” Vito spat.
It was his fault. If he was just quicker, he could have saved Frère! Then he wouldn’t be in this position!
“I knew he was strapped with something, and I didn’t tell Frère…” The trainer looked down and swallowed hard as he clenched his fists.
“It’s not your fault, Vito.” Lucrezia patted the younger boy’s shoulder. “Besides, you’re the person who also pulled Frère out and helped me get him treated.” She smiled.
“Pika!” Vito heard Pikachu squeak.
The yellow mouse bit down on his trainer’s wrist, growling as he attempted to get his attention.
Ack! Vito recoiled from the sudden bite. He had forgotten how sharp his friend’s fangs were, but he smiled as he woke up to reality.
“And I think Pikachu agrees,” Lucrezia commented at the sight.
“Thanks, Pikachu…” Vito smiled as he pat his friend on the head, then looked back towards the forest where he had been prior.
The lone mobster who had shot Frère had been dragged off, and last Vito saw they had whipped away at his body before tying him to a tree half-naked with the use of vines. Safe to say, they weren’t thrilled with the idea that the perpetrators who were behind Tangrowth’s poisoning came back.
“What’s going to happen to that guy?” Vito asked.
“It’s…” Lucrezia swallowed and sighed. “It’s better not to think about it, kiddo.”
He would be killed. That thought unsettled Vito; he hated The Mob as much as he hated The Legion, but at the same time… something about it all felt wrong. Even though Frère had been poisoned, even though Tangrowth had almost been killed, the idea of leaving this man to die sent shivers down his spine and made his stomach churn.
Even worse: where was Emile? He had tried contacting the trainer several times, but he hadn’t received a single response. That made him even more nervous.
“Psy!” Psyduck, who had been sitting near a tree, loudly quacked. The yellow duck stood upright and pointed to the North.
That was the same direction Emile and Belle went off in before they mysteriously vanished, giving a simple “Stay put!” before leaving.
Vito's eyes widened as Emilie and Belle, walking side by side, pushed through the treeline. The older trainer was cradling something close to his chest.
“Emile!” Vito grinned as he picked himself up, but as soon as he remembered that Emile had left him and Lucrezia, he gritted his teeth and ran towards the trainer with clenched fists. “Where the hell were you?”
“I’m sorry.” Emile smiled, though the smile was weak and his voice trembled as he replied. “Things got a little… hectic. A group of guys came by and caught me snooping and they weren’t too happy about it.”
As Vito came closer, he eyed the small object that Emile held to his chest. It was a small green plant with a shell on it, and the sight made Vito raise a brow, but was soon replaced with wide eyes as Vito soon realized that this wasn’t a plant, but a Pokemon.
“What the heck is this?” he asked.
“This here is a Turtwig, a couple of months old at the very least,” Emile replied. “It turns out these mobster guys wanted him and not Tangrowth… but Tangrowth got drugged and kidnapped trying to save him, so this little fella followed wanting to play hero.”
“You’re kidding…” Vito smiled.
Then, as he saw Emile step forward, Vito suddenly remembered Frère.
“Where’s Frère? Please tell me he did a decent job at pushing the guys back,” Emile said. “It’s why I left him, I wanted to make sure you were safe.”
Vito swallowed hard.
Oh right, let me tell you that it was my fault that your best friend almost OD’d and died on a drug shot at him by mobsters.
“You alright, kid?” Emile asked as he tilted his head.
Vito saw Belle’s eyes widen.
Might as well tell the truth. They both knew something was up.
“Frère…” Vito started off. His voice came out quiet and meek, because he was sure he was going to tell Emile, but again, the question of “how” still persisted in his mind.
Emile’s eyes widened as he heard Vito talk.
“Don’t mess with me here, kid,” he hissed. His voice was stern and loud, and his breathing quickened as he looked at Vito. “Don’t you mess with me.”
Before Vito could even think of a response, Emile rushed past him. Belle reached her hand out, hoping to grab ahold of her trainer’s arm, but failed. Eventually, she teleported over to where Lucrezia and her patients were at.
It was my fault.
Vito swallowed hard before he chased after Emile.
Emile carefully set Turtwig down next to Tangrowth, then kneeled down and gently cupped Frère’s face, staring at the Glaceon’s closed eyes.
“Frère!” he called out.
There was no response from him. No smug bark, no biting… just breathing.
“I gave him the same medication that I gave Tangrowth, but Glaceon will need to go to a Pokemon Center for treatment,” Lucrezia said.
“How did this happen?” Emile asked.
Vito took a step back as he saw the hands that held Frère tremble, and he could even hear Emile’s breathing.
“Vito,” Emile said again, his voice more louder now. “Who did this?”
Vito swallowed hard and took a deep breath, his heart pounding beneath his chest as he thought of what to say.
“It was all my fault!” he blubbered. “I’m sorry… a bunch of guys tried coming through The Woodlands, and it irritated the grass types. So Frère went in and helped fend them off, but two got through and I beat them but one got away and the other is tied to a tree…”
Vito looked down again.
“But one of them had some sort of dart gun full of whatever messed up Tangrowth and then shot Frère… I noticed it and I…” Vito continued on, and his voice became shaky.
“Vito,” Emile spat. “This isn’t your fault, do you understand?”
“But I let it happen!”
“No, you didn’t,” Emile shot back. “But if you think you’re so much at fault, then make up for it by keeping Frère safe.”
Keep Frère safe?
“Wait a minute!” Vito cried. “What do you mean keep him safe?”
Emile took a Pokeball off his belt and with a press of a button, Frère was called into it. Then, he walked towards Vito.
What the hell was Emile going to do?
“You heard Lucrezia, kid,” Emile said. “Frère needs to go to a Pokemon Center, and I can’t handle him right now. I want you to hold onto him, keep him safe.”
“But what about you?” Vito asked.
Was he stupid? Leaving again, at a time like this?
“I’m gonna find that tied up guy you told me about,” Emile informed him. “I’m just… going to have a little chat with him and then I’ll come right back. So sit tight with Belle, OK?”
Emile got up from his knees and stomped south, where the lone mobster was tied up.
Vito saw Belle take a step forward, then watched as Emile turned around and jabbed his finger in the younger trainer’s direction.
The trainer felt the breath leave his lungs for that second as he saw Emile’s pale blue eyes, normally so calm, full of endless fury. He wasn’t sure what was being said, but he knew that their conversation was telepathic.
Belle didn’t do anything as the conversation ended Instead, she stood right beside Vito, her gaze unreadable while she watched Emile leave.
----------------------------------------
Emile
It happened again.
Emile was losing someone again, and it was all his fault.
“What are you gonna do next? Maybe you can just leave him in the Pokemon Center while you go off and try to please a corpse,” a snide voice reminiscent of his own whispered into his mind.
No.
“Then after you fail at that,” the voice continued, holding back a giggle, “you can rot away in your father’s lab, drinking your life away, and keep having a pity party for one now that Frère and Epee are in the grave!” It laughed.
No.
Unbridled fury flowed through Emile’s veins as he stomped forward. He reached for another Pokeball, calling out Chevalier.
The Ceruledge bowed before immediately approaching her trainer’s side, walking alongside him.
“Something hurt Frère and many other Pokemon,” he informed her, his voice barely above a whisper. Emile dared not to refer to this mobster or his cohorts as “people.” The things they did to Frère, Tangrowth and many other Pokemon were sickening.
They were all pure garbage. Disgusting filth. Stains that needed to be wiped off the planet, even. These were all thoughts that ran through Emile’s mind. All the trainer could think about was vengeance.
Chevalier didn’t respond, but the burning glare in her eyes told him all that he needed to know.
“It hurt him badly, and they hurt others badly too…” Emile continued. “But it works for others just like itself, and we’re going to find out where it came from.”
They continued to walk forward, until finally coming across several grass types, all glaring in a single direction.
When Emile focused his gaze in that direction, he saw a man tied to a tree by vines. Most of his clothes had been forcefully torn off, leaving him only in his pants.
The vines began to glow green, and the man screamed loudly. They were cries of anguish and pleading, and they were full of so much pain and fear that it pulled Emile out of the endless void that was his rage.
Emile saw the man’s muscle mass begin to dwindle away. The vines were slowly, painfully, draining his energy, the grass types making sure that the man suffered as much as possible until he died. Judging by the fact this man didn’t look like a walking skeleton, the process had more than likely just started.
It was a disgusting practice, but to the grass types, this form of punishment was justice.
Personally, Emile would have preferred this man to suffer a much more gruesome fate than this, but unfortunately, that was impossible.
Primarily because no matter how much he despised this waste of space, he needed him alive in order to know where he and his cohorts came from, and while Emile hated the idea, he knew that his pile of garbage needed to be punished by humans. Not Pokemon.
“Enough!” Emile cried.
Soon the screaming stopped, the vines stopped glowing and every grass type looked in Emile’s direction.
“He hurt one of my own.” The trainer stepped forward. “My best friend was poisoned the same way Tangrowth was.”
An Arboliva stepped forward and looked at Emile.
This has got to be the one who assisted me in treating Tangrowth earlier, he thought.
“I want to know where this man came from, and prevent something like this from happening ever again,” the trainer declared.
Arboliva looked amongst its fellow grass types. Sunflora, Dolliv, and others also looked amongst each other, then nodded in agreement before they stepped away.
Emile turned his head towards the tree. The vines were suddenly removed, and the man fell flat on his face onto the dirt.
“Oh… thank you,” the man sputtered as he got up.
That struck a nerve. It acted like Emile had saved him, despite the fact that this thing was the reason why Frère was in his catatonic state.
Adrenaline pumped through Emile’s body as he walked towards the mobster and kicked it as hard as he could in the chin, sending it falling on its back. He didn’t stop there, though. Emile took a step forward and took the criminal by the wrist, then pinned it against the tree, his free hand placed up against the mobster’s neck.
Chevalier stepped forward. Blue and violet embers danced on her blades, so bright that they were almost blinding, and generated a heat so intense that Emile could feel it from several feet away. One of those blades was pressed up against the mobster’s neck.
It gritted its teeth and closed its eyes, squirmed underneath Emile’s grip, but its resistance was futile. Even if it got out of the trainer’s grip, Chevalier would decapitate it.
“You hurt someone very close to me,” Emile spoke, his voice as quiet as a whisper.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
He looked down at the mobster. His right hand and wrist was covered with dark red, sickly, blisters, and the sight alone elicited a smile from Emile.
Frère had done a good job.
It was more than likely that the grass types had unfrozen the crook’s hand, simply so they could drain more energy from him.
“Please man, I’ll tell you anything!” the mobster screamed. “Th- that Glaceon, it was yours right?” he stammered as he flailed about. “That was Rocco, not me!”
“That’s nice and all, but it’s barely a good start,” Emile spoke. “Talk. Where did you and this ‘Rocco’ come from, and why were you here?”
“We normally operate near The Worker’s District, but we keep to ourselves!” the mobster said. “We… we have a bunch of places there!”
Emile looked over to Chevalier and nodded his head.
The sword that was only a mere distance away from the criminal’s throat moved closer, above Emile’s fingers, the burning blades almost pressing against the crook’s skin.
The crook cried out in horror, tears streaming down its face now as it kicked and flailed about. The more it squirmed, the more Emile’s grip lessened.
“What else do you wanna know? I just gave you some key information!” it squealed.
“Who leads you?” Emile shouted.
“I don’t know!” the crook sobbed and screamed, its voice running ragged now and cracking as it shouted, “I only know one of the Capos, I’m not even a made guy! I was gonna make my bones here!”
And Emile was considering making this guy into nothing but bones.
Yet, the more he looked at the mobster, the clearer his thoughts became. He was starting to see this crook less as a thing and more of a human. After all, what kind of person wouldn’t beg and plead for their life?
The rage still remained, however, and why wouldn’t it?
Emile swallowed hard. He wanted nothing more than to have Chevalier cut off this insect’s head, but what kind of person would that make him? He wouldn’t be “in the right” just because he killed a person, especially like this.
He turned to the direction of the woods he came out of. Nobody else had come out with him, but he couldn’t help but wonder, what kind of example would this set for Vito?
How would he feel if the kid who’d started to look up to him learned that he was a murderer?
The trainer took a deep breath, then looked over to Chevalier and shook his head.
Ceruledge stepped back, withdrawing her blade from the man’s neck.
“What’s your name?” Emile asked.
“Ma… Matteo. Matteo Artom,” the associate replied, his voice now soft yet raspy from all his screaming.
“Alright, Matteo Artom…” Emile said. “Despite the fact I am a foreign trainer, United Region law, and therefore Ransei law, applies here. Meaning I will be holding you until the appropriate League-approved authorities arrive to arrest you.”
“You want to rely on The League? You’re fucking hilarious!” Matteo laughed. His voice was still cracked and raspy, but he appeared to be genuinely amused.
Emile turned his head to the grass types, then back at Matteo, and smirked.
“I could just leave you here.”
Matteo’s eyes widened in horror.
Emile turned his head and dragged Matteo towards him by his wrist. The trainer’s Ceruledge stood by the prisoner, and the two of them stared at the grass types.
“I will be taking this man with me,” Emile declared
For a moment, the grass types stood still, before Emile was suddenly met with dozens of glares.
An Arboliva shouted and cried as it stepped forward, then pointed its wreath at Matteo.
Chevalier matched its movements, her burning gaze meeting the grass-type as she raised her arm, pointing the tip of her blade at her potential opponent.
But Emile raised his hand above his Ceruledge’s arm and shook his head no.
A fight would serve no purpose here; it would only make matters worse. The trainer was about to say something, but before he could, a loud, guttural cry was heard from the left.
Slowly, Emile turned his head to see Tangrowth, slowly walking towards him and the other grass types with Vito, Pikachu, Belle, Lucrezia and Psyduck walking by his right, and Turtwig walking by his left.
“The big guy woke up!” Vito chuckled as he scratched the back of his head.
Emile couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Tangrowth, alive and moving about, especially as the other grass types stepped away from Emile and approached Tangrowth, all of them smiling and crying as they hugged and greeted the large grass type.
Tangrowth patted each of them on the head, letting out quiet gurgles of greeting, and then turned towards Emile. He let out another gurgle, this one louder than before.
The grass types all stood to the side, watching as their leader slowly walked towards the Pokemon trainer.
Tangrowth’s vines were just as thick as they were plentiful. It was hard to make out the Pokemon’s face from it all, and with that alone it was easy to tell that the grass type was probably the oldest Pokemon in Lantana; hell, he was likely older than Emile was.
The grass type slowly outstretched his long vine-like hand before the human.
Emile raised a brow and looked towards Belle.
“He wants to thank you,” Gardevoir informed him.
“It’s not me who you should be thanking.” Emile looked back at Tangrowth as he took his large vine-like hand within his own. “It should be that brat over there.” He motioned towards Vito. “Without him, we would have never known that you were in danger.”
Tangrowth stood still for a moment, then nodded as he released Emile’s hand and walked over to Vito, and soon gave the boy a rather tight hug, given how he unleashed a loud “Ugh!” sound.
Emile chuckled as he watched Vito’s “suffering.” He saw the boy lightly pat Tangrowth on the back before being put down and breathing deeply, and soon the others began to laugh as well.
All was well.
The Wandering Teacher
Lantana
Redacted
Mike-Actual
There was a rather simple route to take to Carbone from Lantana. It was safe, and while there were various wild Pokemon roaming about, the rangers never had a reason to patrol the route dubbed “The Miner’s Trail” by many Lantanans who left to work in the mines of Carbone.
It was thanks to this that Uniform Mike was able to set up shop, away from prying eyes of new trainers, farmers and miners all alike. They kept their distance away from the Pokemon, and very rarely did they meet here like this.
This was one of those rarities. Six men met each other in a bunker that resembled one within The Woodlands, an old Island War Bunker formed when the old Generals were paranoid about a Kantoan invasion. Many things, ranging from explosives to firearms, had been stored here until they were eventually cleaned out by the newly formed Enotrian League.
Mike-Actual thought it was a shame those things were cleaned out, but that was fine. If they were never cleaned out, then the League would watch over those things with eyes like a Braviary, and if the League observed the bunker then there was no point in using this place as a hideout.
“Attention!” Mike-Actual shouted as he stepped inside the bunker.
All six of Uniform Mike did as they were told. While they had the regal posture and standing of soldiers, they all wore different uniforms, but that was fine.
Three wore the dark colors and casual outfits of the Lantana Mob, and the others wore the signature black and red uniforms of The Legione Armata.
This was Uniform Mike, a joint task force consisting of those assigned into The Lantana Mob to play criminal with Aldo De Luca and three Legionnaires who had been with The Armata for years. All were deathly loyal to the cause; it was the only thing that drove Mike-Actual and his men.
“Colonello De Luca has called us. We are to eliminate a known individual who’s been snooping around The Legion,” Mike-Actual said as he pulled out the photo of the target and handed it to Mike-One, who stood at Actual’s right.
The soldier took a brief glance at it, nodded, and then passed it to the soldier beside him.
“The target’s name is Emile Hawthorne. Intel says that he’s a conference-level trainer, maybe even better, hence why we are the ones assigned to take him out,” Mike-Actual informed him. “As it stands, intel knows that he has two Pokemon with him: a Glaceon and a Gardevoir, but there is the chance he has a full team of six.”
The soldiers listened intently as they passed the image amongst each other.
“We are to kill him and anyone who is with him. We’ll make it look like a mob hit, then play cops and robbers. Standard procedure,” Actual continued.
“Cops and robbers” was code for The Legionnaires arresting those within the mob, then claiming they escaped arrest after taking them to this very bunker. Of course, they would have to hide for a while, but they’d come back and perform their usual jobs.
It was even easier when The Legion had people who could help get the soldiers off the hook.
“Are there any questions, gentlemen?” Actual asked.
There was no response.
“Good!” Mike-Actual smiled. “We’ll begin the operation at 1900 hours tomorrow. Get ready, and get set. We don’t want a prolonged engagement, we want to kill Hawthorne and anyone who’s with him quickly.”
“Sir yes sir!” all the soldiers shouted in unison, saluting all the while.
The Wandering Teacher
Lantana
The Woodlands
Vito
Vito slowly made his way through The Woodlands with Psyduck at his side.
Emile, Belle, Lucrezia and that mobster had all left, but Vito couldn’t do that. He still had one thing to do, and he smiled as he walked alongside Psyduck.
“It was kinda fun working with you, Psyduck,” he told the water type as they walked across the grass.
Thank goodness they weren’t walking in the marsh this time. Never again would he go around The Woodlands…
Psyduck quacked and grinned, nodding as he followed alongside Vito.
Pikachu, on the other hand, frowned as he rode on his trainer’s shoulder. He squeaked and lightly scratched his trainer’s cheek, then pointed at his belt with six Pokeballs attached.
“No, Pikachu,” Vito whispered as he shook his head. “We can’t.”
Oh, but by Lupa, Vito wanted to catch Psyduck. He had been a great help when trekking across The Woodlands to see the grass types, and he had even helped out greatly against the mobsters!
If it wasn’t for him, Vito would be dead, and so would Pikachu. They owed the duck their lives, but again, as much as he wanted to, Vito could not take Psyduck with him.
How would Golduck feel about his child being taken away like this? He had earned the trust of the water types, and he didn’t wish to ruin that trust.
It didn’t take long for him to come across the water types. They all came out from the nearby bushes and trees, their eyes first meeting Vito’s, then Psyducks, before finally, they looked over towards the lake and cried out.
Golduck swam out from the lake, and stepped onto the shore, his red eyes full of anticipation as he looked at Vito.
“We did it.” Vito smiled. “And it was thanks to Psyduck here.” He patted the Pokemon on the back.
Golduck smiled and walked towards him and Pikachu, nodding and letting out a laugh that sounded like a mix of a raspy voice and a quack. He clapped his hands, then clapped Vito on the shoulder, nodding his head in approval.
“You are honest,” Golduck’s voice rang in Vito’s mind. “Yes, yes. I see well.”
Golduck looked at Psyduck, and the two entered a silent conversation.
What were they talking about? Vito guessed it was all done telepathically, given how often Golduck’s expression was changing. It went from questioning, to pride, then back to questioning again.
“What do you plan next?” Golduck asked Vito.
“Uh… I wanna travel Enotria,” Vito admitted. “I want to become the Champion!”
“Cham…pion?” Golduck tilted his head.
“Yeah,” Vito said. “I want to get rid of the corruption here in the south, I want to make Enotria better for everyone… I grew up here in Lantana, and I learned the hard way that The Legion is only in for itself, and they’ll allow groups like those who hurt Tangrowth to prosper if it gives them an extra dollar.”
“Everyone you say?” Golduck asked.
“Yeah!” Vito smiled. “For people, for Pokemon… everyone.”
For his father. For Giuseppe. For those who had been harmed by The Legion, just like he had been.
Golduck nodded and looked at Psyduck again, then up at Vito.
“To become Champion means to become strong, yes?” Golduck asked.
“It does. Very strong! Even stronger than the guy I’m travelling with!” The trainer nodded.
“Then, I ask. Make my child strong. Become Champion with him,” Golduck said- no, insisted!
Vito’s heart stopped as he looked at Psyduck and then back at Golduck. It took a few seconds to process his request, and he felt his mouth go dry.
“Are you sure about this? This is your child, after all…” Vito replied.
“It is natural for every parent to want the best for their child,” Golduck said. “Take him with you. Be happy. Be strong.”
Vito looked at Psyduck. Before he could even ask if this was what he wanted to do, the duck had swiftly nodded.
Well, I guess that settles it, then.
Vito smiled as he pulled a Pokeball off his belt and kneeled in front of Psyduck.
“So uh… I’m not sure how to do this, but if you decide to change your mind, you can break out OK?” he asked. “You’ll be in here for a bit, I just need you in here so people know that we’re traveling together, alright?”
Psyduck quacked and nodded his head.
Vito swallowed hard and poked Psyduck’s forehead with the Pokeball.
The device opened, pulling the duck inside before it fell out of Vito’s trembling hand. His heart pounded beneath his chest as he saw it shake a second time, and then a third time, and finally…
It clicked, and Vito was certain he could feel his heart jumping from his chest.
He had finally caught his first Pokemon.
The Wandering Teacher
Lantana
Il Club Gladio
Aldo
Il Club Gladio was a tight-knit club. It was located just by The Worker’s District and didn’t have many patrons. Officially, it was a “Boxing Club”, but that was far from the truth, though many did visit the club and box with one another. They would enter the small makeshift ring, gloves and all, and have a grand old time beating the hell out of each other.
The truth was that if you went through a secret passageway down below, you would learn that Il Club Gladio was a fight ring for Pokemon, but these weren’t the kind of Pokemon battles you could see on T.V.
In Pokemon battles, Pokemon listened to their trainers. Sometimes, the trainers gave out commands, and other times, they advised their Pokemon on what to do, much like a boxing coach would.
Here in this underground arena, however, things were different. Wild Pokemon from above were caught, ensnared, and then released upon each other for viewers from all over Enotria to see. They were untamed beasts clashing against each other for the amusement of others inside the ring, and today, an Ursaring and a Krookodile stood against each other.
The crowd cheered and roared as they watched the two Pokemon covered in claw and bite marks moved against each other. They could barely process the speed at which the two beasts moved at, but they roared when they saw the Ursaring slam its fist into the Krookodile’s jaw.
The ground type recoiled from the punch and roared, then lunged forward and tackled his opponent onto the floor. Krookodile hadn’t even bothered to take a breath, his mind more focused on the idea of killing his opponent.
The Ursaring struggled. With his large, bulky arms, he punched Krookodile, over and over again. Loud cracks filled the battlefield as the crowd above roared and cheered at the gruesome fight, realizing that Ursaring’s punches were breaking the bones in Krookodile’s body.
The cheering grew louder as the crowd watched as Krookodile’s fangs met Ursaring’s neck. Blood pooled from the wound, and the ground type began to enjoy his “meal.”
Aldo grimaced and turned his face away. His stomach churned and he soon got up from his seat and walked back into his office, a small little room fit just for him to conduct business at.
Yes, the club and underground arena had a third purpose as well. It was here where Aldo De Luca became Don De Luca, where he made sure to reside strictly underground to watch Pokemon kill each other, and it was where he operated.
He found the practice of these battles disgusting, but it generated more profit than any drug operation could. People lived to see Pokemon tearing into each other. To see blood spill on the floor, to see one devour another entirely.
Aldo sighed as he sat down at his desk, getting rid of the gruesome image of Krookodile eating Ursaring out from his mind. It was times like these he wished he had Meowscarada around… the damn lap cat was so easy to focus on.
His focus soon shifted away from his precious lap cat as he heard a knock on the door, and The Don swiftly took a deep breath and cleared his throat, making sure to keep his image as a “cold and ruthless mob boss.”
“Sir, we have a problem,” Aldo’s right hand man, Underboss Salvatore Verga said as he entered the small makeshift office Aldo had made for himself.
Aldo turned his head towards the larger man, who was six feet tall and as well built as a Machoke. Verga, much like Aldo, had fought in The Protection War, or Island War depending on your perspective.
He also had a baritone voice that would garner anyone’s attention.
“What is it, Salvatore?” Aldo coolly asked.
“I received word from The Legion about ‘mob activity’ in The Woodlands,” Salvatore informed him. “A group of guys got pushed out by the grass types there, their outfits were different from ours. Some wore the colors of The Paura group, and others wore the colors of the Speranza group.”
“What?” Aldo hissed as he rose up from his seat.
“That’s not all… two associates, kids who wanted to join up with us got involved too. One is still in The Woodlands, the other we’re still looking for.”
Aldo gritted his teeth. This was not what he ordered! He had ordered them to wait and strike at anyone who left The Woodlands!
“What about the farmers?” he asked.
“We’ve silenced four out of five,” Salvatore said. “At the moment, we have an associate trailing Giuseppe Armani. Once he’s dead, our guy will have made his bones.”
Ah, Giuseppe. He was a good soldier; it was a shame that he didn’t stick around after The Rocket Conflict. Aldo could have used a guy like him in his ranks, though the criminal knew that Giuseppe’s capabilities would have been better served within The Legione, had he joined.
“Good. Focus on finding our associates, I want them taken to The Shack,” Aldo replied. “I also need you to tell Afonso to stay away from Lantana for a while, the operation he and Meowscarada are going through is of great importance.”
“Understood, sir.” Salvatore saluted. “I’ll have it done ASAP.”
Aldo, meanwhile, reached for his Poryphone. This mess had gone on far enough, and new plans were going to need to be put in place. It didn’t take him long to begin calling Ombretta.
The phone rang once… then twice… then three times.
Damn that woman! She was always sleeping when you needed her the most!
On the fifth ring, she finally answered.
“Colonnello De Luca,” a rather groggy yet gentle voice spoke up. “What can I do for you?”
“We need to meet,” Aldo said. “In person, my place.”
It took everything Aldo had to not sound stern, but he was at his wit’s end. Too much was at stake here, and the mob being noticed like this was a terrible thing for their plans.
“When?” Ombretta questioned, the grogginess in her voice swiftly dissipating.
“As soon as possible. I will be leaving my club shortly.” Aldo replied. “Uniform Mike has been activated, but I fear this will bite us hard.”