Book 2 Chapter 9: The Mobsters Talk

Tristan

June 22, 2035, Earth Time, somewhere in Sicily

The Job—Mario had emphasized the word so many times that Tristan couldn't think of it without a capital letter—was to be the bodyguard of the big mobster's daughter. The Mafia called their bosses Godfathers, or Dons, and her dad was the biggest of all, ruling over the rest.

The young woman looked to be in her mid-twenties and was so gorgeous that Tristan couldn't help but peek at her. She had deep gold auburn hair, which was rare in the Realm, and a shapely figure that was at the same time lean and fit. The ivory skin matched perfectly with her hair and green eyes. Dressed in a two-piece suit, with a black pencil skirt, a white shirt, and a red jacket. Legs crossed—and what perfect legs those were—she was frowning at a tablet, transcribing things into her notebook.

"What does this mission entail, specifically?" Tristan asked, hoping to hear her voice.

Instead, it was Mario who spoke from the driver's seat.

"The Cosa has a council. The Don, unfortunately, is in prison and cannot continue ruling the house. They keep them incommunicado. It means—"

"In solitary confinement," the woman spoke. Her voice was an alto, with a bit of an accent Tristan couldn't place.

"The most important members of the family are meeting to decide who should be the next Don. Caterina, her cousin, and her uncle are placing their bets. In the past, there was infighting, and the job went to whoever won. Now, it's decided by a vote."

"No one wants to start a war," Caterina said. "I don't really need a bodyguard, but since Mario insisted, I indulged him," she shrugged. "I expect you to be invisible, and don't speak unless spoken to first."

Her words were borderline insulting, but her voice had warmed, counteracting the meaning. Tristan understood she didn't mean to offend but clarified the local protocol.

"Understood," he nodded.

She gave him a scrutinizing look, the shrugged again, focusing on the tablet. Obviously, Caterina was not in the know about Tristan's origins and powers, or she would have asked about them. Even the Null Orders from the Realm, who knew what magic was, were curious about the matter.

"We could have brought Dorian and Eliza too," he said to Mario. "The fee is the same."

"There seems to be a misunderstanding," Mario said. "Your services are a barter in exchange for the accommodation I provided. That's what de Lavalois said."

Haggling in the presence of a beautiful woman was sure to kill any possible flirt. Still, Tristan's Will was helping him keep a good grip on the butterflies in his stomach. Losing money over a pretty lass he would not see again was out of the question. He cleared his throat.

"Indeed, there is a misunderstanding. I don't work for either Eliza or her father. She's working for me." Mario stared at him for a second through the rear-view mirror. It was because of his young looks, Tristan realized. "I propose a compromise," he continued. "If there's no event, we call it… Err… quits? I think you say that, right? That would pay for our accommodation. If something dangerous happens and I have to intervene, I'll charge the usual fee."

"Which is?"

A thousand gold ducats. Tristan looked at his phone, searching for gold prices and doing the math in his mind: "Four hundred thousand Euros, today."

"Hahaha…" the woman burst out in laughter. "Sorry… Sorry… I didn't mean to offend… It's… Do you often find gigs for that money?"

"Plenty," Tristan sulked, crossing his arms.

Caterina repressed a second burst, giggling and shaking her head. She frowned, evidently at herself, and returned to her tablet after blurting a short, "It's a deal," evidently sure nothing bad could happen. From the front, her face was sensual, exactly what Tristan imagined a Mediterranean beauty would be; however, the profile was stern because of her straight, slightly long nose. It was… Imperial. Like the Roman statues.

Maybe Cleopatra's nose was the same; Tristan remembered the adage.

The road stretched on, weaving between hills, with a strong pine scent coming from the sparse trees. There were also thyme and lavender fields and isolated vineyards. It looked like they had some more distance to go, and Tristan called his Menu. For the last few months, he had invested primarily in his Body stats, while relying on his continuous fighting and training to raise the Mind and Spirit. The System Sam devised was clearly biased in favor of Earth's culture, so he had raised his Knowledge and Intelligence by reading dramas and novels, watching anime, playing games, and listening to a lot of music. It had been a tiresome experience, but it had brought some improvement.

Notification: You are in an unstable Mana world. Due to your active skills relying on a constant flux of Mana instead of storing it, your combat abilities will thrive. In contrast, the ones relying on stored Mana will suffer. +25% to all offensive skills, - 25% to defensive skills.

Good enough… Now, where was I?

Name: Tristan von Melk

Age: 22

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Class: Dark Knight. The next evolution will occur at level 67.

Level: 58

Body

Strength: 55

Dexterity: 55

Constitution: 75

Agility: 55

Endurance: 75

Speed: 51

Mind

Intelligence: 40

Wisdom: 40

Perception: 30

Knowledge: 38

Focus: 51

Willpower: 51

Spirit

Arcane Power: 51

Darkness Potency: 51

Mana Affinity: 38

Mana Capacity: 38

Soul Resonance: 43

Presence: 51

Skills:

System Interface, Universal Translator, Mana Sense, Night Vision, Greater Bonded Mount, Dark Knight Toughness.

Combat:

Nocturnal: Your stats receive a 10% bonus at Night if you're in combat. The Dark also activates this buff.

Shadow Mastery: A general skill tree that covers Shadow Step, Stealth, etc. Due to your high Darkness Power, you can take a target with you while Shadow Stepping.

Dark Touch: Siphon a good part of the damage you deal to restore your health. Increased by The Dark Potency stat.

Kill Streak: Each kill gives you a stacking plus 10% Endurance, as long as you stay in combat. Can be applied up to 6 times. Increased by Dark Potency.

Chekhov's Gun: You can make a gun fire by itself if you're within twenty feet of it. The bullet will find the most vulnerable target within a 100-foot radius and inflict critical damage. Exercise caution; this skill will not differentiate between friend and foe. An element of surprise, this skill will not work once you are already in combat.

The Dark: An oppressive Aura fifty feet in diameter that is most effective against Shadow, Lightning, and Light magic. You can order the AOE to follow you or fix it to a place of your choice. Firearms won't work within this AOE, and bullets fired from outside will be slowed to a stop at 3 feet. It can, if you will it so, apply a lesser variant of Dark Touch. +25% efficiency on Earth. Targets will experience increased Dread. Range increased to twenty-five feet. Duration on Earth: 12.5 minutes.

Dark Telekinesis: Inside The Dark, your fingers can spread 10-foot-long tendrils of Darkness to act as sensors, catch foes, and manipulate objects. No change in performance on Earth.

Satisfied with what he was seeing, Tristan leaned back on the comfortable limo seat, dozing off. Because of Pops' training, he was able to maintain awareness even when sleeping. With his eyes closed, Earth's mana was like a rain of colored sparks, a permanent fireworks show in the background.

Half an hour later, they arrived at a small airport, surrounded by barbed wire and with a few barracks and hangars in the back. Two watchtowers in the fore corners, with heavy machine guns, and a lot of armed guards. Two private planes were parked on the tarmac.

Tristan went down first, opening the door for Caterina. She nodded, mumbling a "Thanks," straightened her shirt, then walked toward a hangar, the one with the most guards in front of it.

"Put any weapons or electronic devices in here," a guard said, forwarding a box.

Caterina's tablet and Mario's phone went inside, the latter adding a gun. Tristan turned off his phone and put his dagger inside as well. The security personnel looked at him like he was crazy, but he shrugged it off. The guards walked a metal detector over them and then gestured for them to go on.

Tristan entered first, checking the space. The hangar was all but empty, with a large conference table in the middle. A dozen people were already there, with only two seats left, one for Caterina and one for Mario. No food or drinks, which was normal. Mobsters were suspicious.

"Ciao, bella," a tall, handsome man said, rising and kissing Caterina on the cheeks.

An unjustified pang of jealousy jolted Tristan's heart, and he pursed his lips, disappointed in himself. That was not how knights were supposed to feel; they were above that.

"Ciao, cugginetto," she said.

Ah, it's her cousin. Tristan let out a long breath, relieved.

"You're late," another man, short and thin, with nervous eyes, said. He had probably spoken in Italian, but the Translator had caught up.

Instead of answering, Caterina went to sit on her chair, crossing her legs, notebook in hand.

"Let's begin, shall we?" an old woman, the only woman there except Caterina, said. "First, I spoke with my husband, and the Don approves this election. It's time for new blood, he said. He was pleasantly surprised that Caterina decided to join the business."

"I want to make a difference," Caterina said.

"Let's draw the order for the initial presentation."

Tickets were drawn, and Caterina went first. She began her speech by saluting everyone, then methodically addressed their gains and losses. For her, crime didn't pay. Concurrence was fierce and violent. Prison or death was calculated in terms of money, and the amounts were added up. The plan was to abandon human trafficking and drugs, turn every business legit, and enter the market in AI and drones. Financially, it made sense. Tristan was skeptical about her chances, though, knowing that human nature was reluctant to embrace changes.

While listening to her voice, he started walking back and forth, slowly, keeping near the walls, taking in the building, calculating means of escape or attack, more to pass the time. The other bodyguards present stood still, frowning at him and following Tristan with their eyes.

After Caterina, the short man spoke. He was all business, but in a different way. Keeping things the same, because why ruin what was already working? Cutting costs by ten percent and increasing profit by the same margin. He was uninspiring, even if logical. Certainty also had an appeal, but after some point, it became boring.

The third speaker, the tall man, whose name turned out to be Pippo, rose to his feet, leaned forward, resting his hands on the table, and smiled.

"What I'm going to tell you is the best-guarded secret in the world. Seven years ago, scientists opened a portal to another world."

What? He knows about the Realm? Tristan gasped.