Book 2 Chapter 10: The Mobsters Fight

Tristan

June 22, 2035, Earth Time, somewhere in Sicily

"Another world, Pippo?" the short man, Caterina's uncle, scoffed. "Tu sei pazzo?"

"And more precisely, an alternate Earth. While its technology dates back to the early nineteenth century, it has magic."

"C'mon, you're not serious," the uncle said.

"I'm dead serious. I'm in contact with the colonists; they rule over a good chunk of Central Europe," the tall man continued unperturbed. "They need someone to take care of business on this part. They need weapons and mercenaries, and in exchange, they offer health pills that would cure anything, or any amount of drugs, or untraceable sex workers. And, of course, magic. Many of those who travel to that Realm get magical powers. And what's better, the government is in. They want access to the other planet's resources but lack the know-how for the more sensitive part of the business."

So they are the ones who took in the Outworlders' group… Well… good to know.

A deep frown of disgust had washed over Caterina's face when the man had mentioned the sex workers. Tristan could see she was struggling not to speak.

"Can you prove your affirmations?" the old woman asked.

"I can." Pippo walked to the door, opened it, and waved before returning to his place. "I will explain what will happen, because otherwise, it will be shocking. Some of the people I've told you about are on the next hill. Within a minute, one of their mages will teleport into this room with three of his friends. The teleport will be slow. You will be able to observe their shapes, and you could try to touch them, but they will be immaterial until the spell is finished. Once inside, they will perform more magic to convince you. If at any point any of you is disturbed or inconvenienced by this, tell me; I'll stop them, and we can find other means to prove it. We have all the time in the world. Here it begins."

Ten feet away from the table, a shimmer appeared in the air. It began to grow bigger, then formed four silhouettes. The short man went and waved his hand through the space, without meeting any resistance. Tristan feared that when the portal fully manifested, the hand would be cut off cleanly. Instead, Pippo was gently pushed a few feet away by an invisible force, sliding on the ground.

"Hi, all!" a man waved. "Don't be afraid. I'm Petronius, Space mage and former captain in the Italian army. I was also one of the first colonists sent to the alternate Earth. Please don't make fun of my name; my parents were Latin teachers."

The joke and the roll of eyes relaxed the mood. Tristan, on the other hand, was considering options. Leaving when it was over, and reporting afterward? But to whom? Sam was on the Realm, his fate unknown, and the portal had closed again, a thing the Outworlders there present seemed to ignore. Taking them out? That would have meant good XP, but killing a Space Mage was a waste. Making him work for them, on the other hand…

Yep. I'll capture him. Let's see what the rest can do.

"I'm Adriana, nicknamed Zappy, and I can control electric charges," a young woman, barely out of her teens, said. "In other words, lightning. Normally, I could execute a Chain Lightning spell on any number of targets within a hundred-foot radius. Due to the lack of Mana on Earth, my powers are limited to single targets. I will shoot a small lightning bolt at that beam."

Stretching her hand, index forward, she released the spell with almost no effort. The bolt zapped into the beam, then sank into the ground, following the metal frame and leaving behind an ozone scent. A round of wows went around the room, and some even clapped.

"My nickname's Dragon," another young woman said. "I can shoot fireballs and shapeshift—"

"Into a dragon?" Caterina asked.

"Yes. Not a big one, for now, but big enough. I was weighed at two tons. The extra mass is stored in a spatial fold."

"Can you show us?"

"I'm sorry," the girl said, "but Mana is unstable on Earth. However, my fire magic works. Here is a little demonstration." As soon as her words ended, the teenager threw a small fireball that fizzled on the ground but projected a good amount of heat around. Tristan could feel it even at forty feet apart.

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"I'm Tremor," the fourth member of the team said curtly. "The damage I deal makes me stronger and heals me, and I can deal a lot of it. On the Realm, I could impale a dozen enemies at once with earth spikes. On Earth, well…"

The man stomped on the ground, raising his foot barely an inch, but it was enough to feel like a small earthquake.

"I rest my case," the tall mafioso said.

So, the space mage's abilities work fine, but the rest have problems. Hm… Is it only stats, or only acclimatization? My Dark Step had problems at first, but stabilized with bigger Arcane Power. Anyway, let's focus on the task at hand…

"I'm taking back my leadership bet, on the condition of being a part of all the decisions," the shorter man said.

"Granted. Caterina?" Pinno looked at the young woman. "You're the brightest mind of us; you could be my right hand."

The girl massaged her forehead for a few seconds, sighing, the raised her head and stared at her cousin. "I have my own condition. No hard drugs and human trafficking."

"You speak like we need you," Tremor said, his mouth curving downward in disdain. "There is only one law: the weak endure, the strongest makes the rules. The latter would be us."

"I would beg to differ," Tristan said, stepping forward and attracting all eyes to him.

"What are you saying?" Tremor asked, shifting position to face him.

"I'm saying you're not the strongest."

Tremor laughed. "You want to fight me?"

"I don't care about fighting you or not. I was telling the folks here you're not the strongest. Just a fact," Tristan said.

"Wait! I think he's that Vampire, Tricorder something," Dragon blurted. "One of the Realm natives who got awakened."

"How the hell did he get here?" Zappy asked.

"You're an alien?" Caterina gasped, staring at Tristan.

Tristan bowed. "Tristan von Melk, Dark Knight, at your service."

Tremor raised his foot, ready to stomp. His eyes were widened, his upper lip raised in a sneer.

"Come, pretty boy, show me what you got!"

Tristan raised his palms up at shoulder height in a peace gesture. "Trust me, you don't want this."

"Let's talk it through," the Dragon said. "This is what all this meeting is about, right?"

"Wait! You're not just a hire. You're on her side?" Pippo, the tall mafioso, asked, looking at Tristan but pointing at Caterina. His affable demeanor was all but gone.

"As a matter of fact, she made a good case," Tristan nodded. "Why don't you rule as equals?"

"This doesn't seem to work your way, does it, brother?" the short mafioso sneered.

"We need time to talk it through," the old woman said.

"No, we don't," Pippo said. "Boys!" he yelled. The five guards who had been posted at the building rushed in, weapons in hand. "Take everyone but my guests and shoot them outside. You, make sure to stop the alien if he interferes."

"I'm your grandmother!" the old woman screamed.

"Her first."

"Calm down, everyone!" the Dragon yelled. "You're dealing with things beyond your comprehension."

Tristan had to admit the kid had sense. However, not everybody was on the same page. One of the bodyguards already in the room produced a gun from somewhere and shot one of Pippo's people, killing him. The shooter was killed himself immediately, despite having a bulletproof vest. Chaos ensued. The mafiosos started to run, and the remaining guards to shoot. Tristan put himself in front of Caterina and felt a few bullets bounce off his back.

Have to extract my ward from harm's way… Tristan thought, panicking and mixing Realm and Earth terminology.

Taking Caterina by the hand, he jumped into the shadows behind the hangar's access, shoved her to the ground, then slammed the door in the face of a thug who was firing from the doorframe.

His following kick broke a man's spine, projecting him into another guard, and a slap broke a man's neck. The first guard opened the door, screaming, his nose bloodied, emptying his gun into Tristan. The bullets barely made him grimace, feeling weaker than a drunken nerd's fists—he had received a lot of those, as there were a lot of clerks in Austria who searched for a fight after a few drinks. A fist broke the gunman's ribcage into smitereens. Stepping to the guard trapped under his comrade's body, Tristan stomped on his head.

"I don't think this can be solved peacefully anymore," Tristan said, looking coldly at the tall mafioso.

There were dead or wounded people all over the floor, some crawling in a last survival reflex. Mario was under the table and looked unharmed, with an overturned office chair in front of him as a rampart.

"A million if you save me," Pippo blurted. The next second, the Space Mage made a short hand gesture, and they disappeared, leaving the rest behind.

"Don't!" Tristan said, waving his finger at the remaining Outworlders. "Surrender. Take my word, you don't want to fight me."

"Stop, idiot!" the Dragon screamed, as Tremor stomped the ground and the Lightning mage shot a bolt at Tristan.

The bolt was so weak it didn't even register as a hit. Tristan activated The Dark and used it to jump near Caterina, pick her up, then teleport outside, passing through the collapsing walls of the hangar. The Dark followed him, and he could feel Tremor and the other awakened still in range. The Mana in the Lightning mage was weak to his Dark, and he pulled the energy toward him, siphoning it. She let out a tortured shriek and ran away. Trying with Tremor next, Tristan felt resistance, and the source of Mana disappeared; the man had stepped out of range as well.

"What's… this?" Caterina asked, heaving.

"Are you OK?" Tristan asked because her voice had a color he didn't like, reflecting pain.

"I… think so…"

Supporting her by the midriff, he used his senses to scan her. His heart skipped a beat. There was a bullet in her chest, an inch and a half deep, not far from the major blood vessels. A sudden move, and she could die. That, he decided, was utterly unacceptable.