Kapitel 63: Espionage
///Lost'sForward/// 100 Power Stones = 1 Chapter
For the Rose familia, mayhem ensued.
First, one of their night clubs was cut down. And by an unknown adversary worst of all.
The marks left in the basement of the club, the lacerations that erased the steel and cement walls and servers — it was something both the police and the Rose familia had never seen before.
Cain's corruption ate away at matter itself. As it tore through cement and technology, it evaporated anything it touched, leaving behind a scar that followed the shape of a laser, but without the melting burns along its edges.
Instead, the corruption erased what was once there.
The computer screens and servers that housed all the club's data? An eerie streak of nothingness severed it all. All that remained as proof of its occurrence was black soot that coated the rim of the laceration.
The corpses too, the ones Cain slaughtered under the guise of mercy, were burdened with nothing more than a small hole between their skulls.
Their skin wasn't melted nor were their bones cracked. The corruption penetrated their beings swiftly and easily. Again, if it weren't for a black ring surrounding the hole in their foreheads — then no one would know how they died.
On the other side of town, beyond the jungle line, investigative forces rummaged through what remained of the illegal crop farm. Multiple vans surrounded the scene, each of them equipped with some means to dissect the crime scene whether it be autopsies, lab work, fingerprints — all of it and more was housed in the vans.
Unfortunately, the corpses of the gunman were helplessly strewn about. The grenades ravaged their bodies and sent an arm here, a leg there, and a head further down.
Their bodies were mutilated beyond recognition. And due to the heat of the explosion, many of their fingers either melted or tore to the point where fingerprinting wouldn't work.
Of course, while this was occurring, the camera hidden in the trees was still recording and behind its counter-screen — Emilio saw all.
He saw the police scatter around the area.
He saw the sergeant make a disgusted expression before calling the precinct.
He saw a percentage of his earnings disappear, all while unable to do a single thing about it.
Instead, the man gently rubbed his temples with his thumbs. He had a fresh cup of tea on his desk — jasmine — alongside a miniature sand garden fully equipped with a mini rake to soothe his troubles.
Emilio needed to be calm today. He was meeting with the President of Brazil to discuss a deal moving forward.
The meeting would take place on the highest floor of the tallest skyscraper. An unlikely restaurant was situated there, a sushi restaurant, a dish the two men were quite fond of.
Eventually, the time for the meeting arrived.
Emilio was escorted in his chocolate brown Bentley to the valet of the skyscraper. At the base of the skyscraper, men in suits with white gloves stood waiting.
One of them opened Emilio's car door.
As he stepped out, Emilio buttoned his gray blazer and tightened his scarlet tie. He checked his gold watch and smirked at the time — ten minutes late.
When he entered the main floor of the building, an international bank, he was stopped by security. There, he had to remove his jewelry and his shoes, his belt and his glasses.
He stepped through the metal detector.
*BEEP BOOP*
"Please step to the side, sir." One of the guards said.
Emilio complied and removed himself from the line of bank patrons.
With an air of ease, Emilio smiled politely and rummaged through his coat pocket.
"My apologies," Emilio said while handing over a folded piece of paper, "in my youth I broke my spine. I have four bolts embedded in my back — here's the paperwork."
The guard grabbed the piece of paper. He read its contents and nodded in affirmation.
"Very well." The guard returned the paper, "I still need to pat you down though, sir."
"Of course." Emilio readily spread his arms and legs.
Once the inspection was over, he boarded the elevator and selected the fiftieth floor.
*DING*
The doors opened and Emilio was met with a dark hallway filled with guards.
One of them stepped forward.
"Confirmation?" The guard said.
"Admire its beauty, but be wary of its thorns." Emilio responded.
The guard nodded and spread his arm towards the greater hallway.
"This way, sir."
Emilio was led down the hallway of guards. At the end of the hallway, a set of traditional Japanese doors stood waiting.
The guard pushed open the doors and led Emilio past a sea of empty tables. They passed by multiple bonsai trees, a miniature pond with two koi, and a bamboo fountain that perpetually filled with water and released it back into the water.
In the back of the restaurant, at the bar made of black marble, the president of Brazil sat and conversed with the sole employee currently at the restaurant — the restaurant's owner and head chef.
The owner was Japanese and bald. He wore a white bandana over his head with an ornate apron to match. Beside him, damascus knives littered the wall — all of them held by magnets to both attract the eyes of the guests but also to show off his exorbitant collection of blades that included a sheathed katana placed in the center of the wall of knives.
Without precedent, Emilio took the stool beside the President and sat accordingly.
"You're late." The President said off-handedly.
"Something came up." Emilio said.
"Oh?" The President's eyes gleamed, "Do tell."
Emilio noticed an empty cup of sake placed before the President and an identical one beside the sushi chef. He motioned towards it with his fingers and made eye-contact with the sushi chef.
The chef nodded in response and passed through the curtains leading to the kitchen. He needed to grab another ochoko for the sake (ochoko is a small cup traditionally used to serve sake).
"Yesterday was my niece's birthday —" Emilio said, "the house was a mess. I spent some time this morning sorting it."
The President of Brazil raised his head. He looked past Emilio's shoulder and motioned for one of his guards to approach.
The guard arrived with a tablet and placed it on the bartop in front of the two men. When he placed it down, the tablet was already playing.
"Alright —" A young man's voice played from the tablet, "kill everyone here and then yourself."
A few seconds passed.
*BOOM*
Just when the explosion detonated, the guard who delivered the tablet paused the video.
"Your niece looks bigger than I remember." The President said, "And when did she tattoo her hands black?"
A thick vein bulged in Emilio's forehead.
Underneath the bartop, he clenched his fists.
"There was a breach —" Emilio began.
"A breach?!" The President interrupted. "Your farm was wiped out! I also received a report that one of your clubs shut down recently? And before you try to squirm your way out of this, just tell me, are the two related?"
Emilio stared at the President.
He didn't know how to reply. In fact, he couldn't stop thinking about the video.
'How the hell did he get a copy?'
Only three people have access to the security footage built throughout the Rose empire: Emilio himself, his sister, and Emilio's most trusted subordinate — his second-hand man!
None of which are people who would have betrayed Emilio. He was sure of it.
So the data breach must've been somewhere else, but where?
"Your sake, sir." Then the sushi chef returned with his drink.
But Emilio, still lost in thought, did not acknowledge the man or the drink.
Meanwhile, the President of Brazil beside him behaved as though Emilio were not even there. Instead, he picked up the piece of parchment used to showcase the restaurant's menu.
After scanning the menu for a bit, he actually ordered.
"Can we have two of these, one of this, this, that, three of those, and a side of rice please? Oh, and we'll take the bottle."
The chef bowed and disappeared behind the curtains once more.
"You know, you're too much of a worry-rat." The President said.
"You don't have a data breach — Maria told me."
Emilio's eyes widened.
"Maria did? But why?"
"This person —" The President grabbed the tablet and zoomed in on the back of Cain's head, "although I don't know his name, I can assure you I know where he's from."
Emilio contemplated the President's words. He was not untrustworthy per-se, but the two men did not have a fluid working relationship. Emilio was, after all, the head of the largest crime family in Brazil and his actions and decisions played a major role in the stability and economy of the country.
It is for that very reason that the President of Brazil consistently meets with the Rose family as, in his eyes, it's better to tend to the wild beast and cooperate with it than it is to stir its nest.
And in the two years that the President has been openly communicating and considering Emilio's opinions — crime has been on the decline. His voting numbers are up and the support from the general population has been pouring in!
Quite simply, it has gotten to the point where the public is praising the President for the actions of Emilio, or more accurately, the lack thereof. By allowing a smaller quantity of drugs to flourish, by allowing for foreigners to be trafficked over citizens, by allowing for guns to be smuggled — a lot less conflict has risen at the price of morality.
And the President was happy to make that trade.
The issue, however, lied in the fact that Maria reported this to him without getting permission from the family head.
"By God it's like I can see the makings of an insane story forming within your head." The President commented.
"Maria told me because I just attended the United Nations meeting discussing this very topic —" He pointed towards Cain, "the Awakeners, or whatever the hell they call themselves."
"The Awakened?" Emilio repeated.
"I mean he has to be one, right? That's why Maria told me. She was hoping she could find out who exactly attacked you and then give you a name, but unfortunately, I don't even know this one."
"What do you mean?"
"The United Nations reported the existence of thirty-three Awakened with two more following a couple days later. I've read their files and none of them come close to resembling this white man." The President said.
"Didn't you say it had to be an Awakened?" Emilio replied.
"Don't get me wrong, I am positive the person in this recording is an Awakened, but it appears to be someone the United Nations didn't want to make known."
"Now let me ask you this, Emilio, why would they do something like that?"
Emilio thought openly for a few moments, but then it clicked.
"Espionage."
///LostNoteFound///
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