Chapitre 8: My
Enma is out of his depth.
Sure he's a Mafia boss, but frankly he only has a hold on his unruly friends and a vague past that no one bothers to remember. If you asked about the Simone Family, the best you'll get is a mildly searching look, like the person answering was trying to remember something unimportant.
Before the outbreak they were struggling to gain respect as a legitimate Mafia Family, but it was difficult since the Simone dropped out of sight completely a couple hundred years ago, and Enma's biological family are completely content with small time protection.
Enma isn't sure why, since Simone is strong in their own right. Why bother taking contracts from more powerful Families, only to be used as a scapegoat if things go badly?
Not that Enma wants to be a Mafia boss, but it's better to be strong than weak.
Here in Namimori, in the mix of culture and lifestyle, Enma and his friends haven't even tried to push for a place in the underground. More precisely, because there isn't an underground in Namimori.
Calling it 'Namimori' is simply an easy way to label the safe zone currently spanning just over a third of Japan.
The borders are completely open since the pressure fence is far too small to wrap the entirety but hardly any infected show up thanks to the regular patrols reaching in every direction. As a secondary measure, only full time Patrollers are allowed to live at the constantly expanding borders.
The occupants of Namimori seem less like victims of horrific circumstances and more like perfectly normal citizens. However, they do all have standard combat training, implemented by the DC for all newcomers.
The number of people in Namimori is just under overpopulation, which would have been stunning considering how many the virus wiped out in the first wave and then how many were killed from zombies after, but Enma has been in Namimori long enough to never question the DC's capabilities.
It should theoretically be easy to create an underground in this environment. There's a lot of people, the DC don't have access to criminal records from overseas, weapons are literally pushed onto them, and the majority of survivors are only alive because they have experience with the more dangerous sides of life.
However, one doesn't just break rules in Namimori.
The DC always know.
So after a week of arriving, Enma discussed it with the rest of his friends, and they settled down into the jobs they picked when registering at the administration building.
Most of them chose Patroller as their talent lies with fighting because of their upbringing, and after the standardised tests to make sure the Simone knew what they were doing, the teenagers were given an apartment at the edges.
It's been a month and three weeks since the outbreak, and Enma is kind of glad that it happened. It's a horrible thought to have but Enma hasn't lost any family or friends. In fact, it's brought them all closer; Enma's parents and little sister calling every day to say hello and simply talk.
Enma ducks his head and smiles, trailing after his loud friends to the training centre - one in every town under the Namimori banner. The Simone teens are currently ten minutes late to the centre but no matter what Enma bribes them with, they won't speed up.
Yeah, he's out of his depth with trying to control his friends, but he wouldn't have it any other way.
Julie lets out a wild laugh, slipping away from Adelheid's fists. Unfortunately, his dodge takes him straight into the path of a passing teen. He jolts and spins, immediately blurting out a shocked apology when he catches sight of the red armband.
The boy stumbles from the unexpected hit but quickly gets his balance back, turning to scan first Julie and then the rest of them. He's wrapped in a long coat that hugs his slim frame, with black slacks tucked into boots and of course the signature DC band that proclaims he's a member of Hibari Kyouya's personal army.
The outfit screams that the boy deals with zombies on a daily basis – definitely a Patroller. Or perhaps something more extreme.
"You are late," the teenager says, his sharp silver eyes having caught onto the lilac armbands that signify a Patroller.
The armbands are there so people can ask for help if an infected breaches the border, and the black stripes denote the skill level to help DC officers move them around in battle situations.
"We were just heading to the centre," Enma reassures the other. Something about the teen makes the red head want to keep him in sight at all times, like Enma needs to be prepared for an attack.
"The training centre has been moved," is the reply.
"Where to?" Adelheid asks, a sceptical tone despite the other being a DC. "And why has it changed so suddenly?"
"Follow," the teen orders, turning to continue his walk.
The Simone teenagers glance at each other and then finally look to Enma. The red head starts after the DC member, trusting that no one wanting them harm would wear the material, and no one bad would dare steal the red cloth.
"Excuse me," Adelheid begins in a tone just shy of polite, lengthening her stride to catch up to the male. "Why has the meeting site been rearranged?"
The teenager's eyes flicker to Adelheid's face. "I broke the first one."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone