There was a murmur of whispers that spilled through the crack of the door. Between the wood and metal, venom bled into his ears. Lies, each laced with its own form of betrayal. He knew they were scared, but he couldn't care less. Fear was a poor man’s emotion. Poor didn’t mean financially, either, although it didn’t help if you were broke. No. There were different ways of being poor. Mentally, spiritually, emotionally, or whatever fucking concoction was filling the chairs in the next room. He wasn't there to diagnose. Especially because he knew there'd be a lot more of it once he entered. 

The goliath pushed the door firmly and listened as those same whispers slowly formed a song of silence. A song he hated. There were a million better things he could be doing with his time. Instead, he needed to console the weak and pathetic on his council. And mind you each and every one of them was pathetic in every ounce of the word, just some more than others. Six different syndicate lords watched him take his seat at the end of the table. Behind him, his guard kneeled and gently placed his sword on his lap. Justice cracked his knuckles through the various rings on his fingers. Rings of gold, silver, and bone. The popping sound of each knuckle was loud enough to bounce off the walls and reflect back into the ears of the six individuals waiting for him to say something.  Each wore a mask to protect their identity which served no use in this environment when everyone already knew who each other were. This protection was more to hide themselves from lingering eyes that could be peering from the outside in. Each one of their masks was intricate and delicately crafted. He wore one too, although his was a half mask covering only the top part of his face and leaving only his mouth exposed. He did so because he wanted all to see the wicked grin that was plastered across his face at any given time. He typically wore that smile and wasn’t keen on hiding his happiness. Justice sat back and allowed the table to converse freely, wanting to counter a conversation instead of start it. Luckily for him, everyone at the table was furious at him and had several things they were bursting to say. 

To his surprise, it was Colette Garnier who spoke first, head of the Garnier household in France. A new family that had emerged after the time of Adrian Corvino in the 2000s. 

The Garnier family was most popular for selling illegal Charme products in various territories throughout Europe, but mostly in France and Germany. They were a strong family, but had lost their bite ever since Colette took over for his old man. Typically, Justice would have him killed for being a competitor in the same market as he. However, the territories both men ran were separated by the Atlantic Ocean, which was a distance far too expansive for either man to call the other a competitor. It was for that reason that Justice allowed the Garnier to do as they pleased so long as their products didn’t show up on his coast. That, of course, was the working idea that lasted just until that exact problem occurred a week ago. Justice had no idea if it was intentional that some of Garnier’s products ended up in his markets. Intentional or not, the peace was already rocky between the two, and an incident like this was exactly what Justice was looking for. Something to break the peace, something to bring him some excitement to the political games they played. 

“Justice. You walk into this room with swagger like you did nothing wrong. Like we don’t know what you and your men have done. You killed a Harrier. You know what that means, don’t you?!” Garnier roared, hitting the table softly.

Justice didn’t turn his head, which was typically the only way you’d know if the man was looking at you or not. With the mask on his face covering his eyes, there was no way of truly knowing who or what held his attention at any given moment. 

Justice took in a deep breath and stood up.  

“No, no! No, we have a treaty of peace! No!” Garnier commanded. He pushed his chair back, stood up, and chose to run. He felt the large hand of the goliath squeeze his shoulder hard and swing him back to the table as if he were weightless. The Frenchman's head slammed against the wood and caused his drink to topple over. Blood was trickling out of his nose as the spilled liquor mixed with the red.

“Justice!” The lord beside him yelled, but he paid no attention to her. A member on the other side of the table pushed against the floor so that they may rise from their seat quickly. Whether it be to help Garnier or to flee wasn’t immediately clear, but as they rose, their eyes locked onto Justice’s guard, who had simply shaken his head no. That was enough to force them back down. 

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry! But they are already here! You’ve doomed us, when the Miyamoto find you-” Colette Garnier squeaked but was then stopped by the slamming of a fist that depressed the wood beside his head. The goliath kept his fist there for a moment, then gently picked up the spilled glass, poured more liquor into it, and slid it back to Garnier, who was then released gently. Justice fell back to his seat and poured a drink of his own, then sipped it. He leaned forward and used his fingers to trace the figure of the bottle. 

“This is good shit.” Justice said finally with a chuckle. 


The wicked lord gently placed the glass down and inhaled loud enough for all to hear. 

“You know, typically we start with a hello.” Justice said then sucked his teeth and continued, “but I guess manners are just something your shit ass families still have to learn, huh? Ain’t that right, Colette?” finishing loudly before one of the other lords quickly spoke up. 

“Hello, Justice. Forgive me for my rudeness.” The leader of the Siqueira family whispered, lowering her head in respect. Justice smiled and tilted his head, giving a nod in her direction. 

“You are forgiven, ma’am. My apologies for my outburst, I get emotional, you know.” he said slowly. 

“Justice, you killed a Miyamoto. We are all wondering what the hell happened and what happens-” she said, elongating that last word, “-when Harriers prepare to flood the underworld?”

“All of them will be looking for you. You’ve brought this down on ALL of our heads.” Colette said, placing a glass filled with ice to the bruise on his forehead and feeling it sting. Justice leaned back in his seat and swung his head back, caring little about the conversation. 

“Fine, fine. We want to talk about Harriers, then we’ll talk about Harriers.” Justice groaned. 

“We don’t WANT to talk about it! We HAVE to talk about it. You were supposed to protect us if they ever came after us. It was our job to make sure they never would. Then you went ahead and fucked that up. It’s us that works with the Harriers and maintains that relationship, and you go and kill one? I mean, what were you thinking!?” Lin Liansheng, leader of the Liansheng clan, exclaimed.

“Lin. Sweetheart.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Justice, not today. You need to explain yourself.”

 

He understood why they were afraid, even if it was utterly pathetic to him. In the underworld, people had the tendency to quake in their boots at the very mention of a Harrier. That was worse when that Harrier happened to be from the Miyamoto. They had a reputation of being deadly and they came at you so quickly that rarely did you have time to defend yourself. It made sense that they expected a Harrier to come barging in at any moment. One that would be wielding one of those white magic blades that instilled fear just by the sound of it. Gods forbid it was that samurai, Inoue. Fear like that was justifiable, but pathetic still. Knowing that the people he was forced to work with were so cowardly made him want to vomit. Still, they were entitled to an explanation, that much he could agree on. Anything after that, though, and they'd be pushing it. 

Justice took another drink and swished the liquid in his mouth as he lifted the glass. The glow from the lights overhead cascaded down and shined on his mask. He stood and placed a hand in his pocket while animating his words with the other. 

“Let me tell you all a little story. Then I’ll tell you everything you need to know. Cool? Cool.” He paused between asking, turning to his guard, and handing him what remained of his drink.  

“When I was twelve, there was a man named Adrian Corvino. That man ruled the underworld for years. He sold narcotics that grew from mushrooms that he took from the Evergarden. A special type of narcotic that would fuck you up for life. One single hit was enough. But in that hit. Euphoria.” He said as he caressed the mask of Lin Liansheng. “He would send his men to go into the Evergarden to find these mushrooms, and his men would take out their knives and cut the hairs that grew at the stem. You see, it was those hairs that would cause the narcotic effects. Once crushed into powder, even a small bit of it could give an Orc the high of his life. The mushroom itself was worthless, matter of fact, when cooked, I heard it wasn’t even that good. But the hairs on that fucking thing. Priceless. Grew an empire on fucking mushrooms, can you believe that? Did so and became the largest syndicate leader we have ever seen in modern times. He created an empire. His reach went from the United States all the way to Italy, where the gentleman was from, then all the way to Asia, to South America, wherever you could breathe, is where you could get one of these fucking things. And on each bag, what did it read? Corvino.” Justice took a breath and grabbed the glass from his guard. He gave his guard a command secretly and the man responded by standing up and making his way out of the room. Justice placed the empty glass down and poured himself another drink. “Corvino. Was a fucking joke. Had the world in his hands and STILL decided to work with the fucking Covens. Why? Because he was fucking scared of them. He feared them because their Harriers were onto him. So what’d he decide to do? He sent one of his best to infiltrate the Covens and become one of them, learn their way from the inside. You know what happened after that? THE FUCKING GUY BETRAYED HIM!” Justice screamed, launching the glass at Garnier that shattered on the man’s mask. “His own guy betrayed him and became a Harrier himself. Isn’t that fucking hilarious? And what did Corvino do? He fought. For a moment. But when all was said and done, he accepted the punishment given to him by Harriers, and now he rots, gods know where. And you tell me that you’re what, protecting me from the Harriers? That everything you’re doing is so fucking noble and hard? You’re talking to the enemy, you’re not out there cutting the hairs of mushrooms in a fucking realm that is designed to kill you. You and your pretentious ideals. Your pride. I’m the one getting my hands dirty, and you have the gall to say that you are PROTECTING me?” Justice broke out in a hysterical laugh and slammed his fist on the table, resulting in a depression in the wood. 

“You ask why I killed him? How about you ask this clown?” Justice pointed with his head, looking at Garnier, who had removed his mask to clean the liquor off. 

All of the lords turned towards the man, their eyes curious and confused. 

“Why don’t you tell them, Colette Garnier? Tell them that you were the one that told that Harrier everything. That you were the rat who exposed my operation and how you broke our treaty? See how well they take it.”