act38side

Oh, I mean, dispatches...

And this pizza sauce is really good.

Maybe we should finish our dinner first.

A friend once said something that really left an impression on me—

'Our power comes from the very lives we have created.'

Our power will protect all that we have built.

<p=2>November 5th, 1100 10:52 P.M.</>

That's the fifth slice of pizza and third glass of juice that you just eliminated. Are you that hungry?

Shut up and drink this espresso.

It's so damn sour!

If we screw up this mission because this swill makes me throw up, whose head am I gonna give the boss, yours?

Live with it. I just picked it up off the shelf.

Nobody uses this frontage road anyway. Besides, it's just transporting a bunch of 'tires', what could go wrong?

No need to get all worked up about an unimportant job like this.

I'm tired of listening to your complaints for the past two months, Gambino.

Haven't you figured out our new boss yet? Trying too hard to show off in front of him will only have the opposite effect.

Fresh meat like us, we gotta be patient and wait for our chance.

Well, ain't you the model employee, Capone.

I thought you would at least show a little bit of, I don't know, shame? There's hardly any place for a Sicilian in Siracusa these days.

I'm not Sicilian anymore. It's your shame, not mine.

I just want to get my Nuova Volsinii citizenship sooner rather than later. All the work I put in over the past six months, all the guarantee money I paid, and I'm only halfway to the required points—

Halfway?! You've got fifty more points than I do? Have you been doing—*gasp*—community service while I wasn't looking?

Shut your crap, Gambino. We're on our last chance and you know it.

Keep your eyes sharp on the street. It should be coming any time now—

You got any pizza left? Give me one.

Cazzo, it's cold, how do you even manage to eat this...

<p=2>November 5th, 1100 11:05 P.M.</>

Ach... I'm late.

You're late, Leon.

I'm sorry, it's been a really busy day.

Still working on your inaugural speech?

Well, that too... We're planning a birthday party for an entire city. It's not quite the same as planning a party at home, is it?

I'm surprised... you still remember.

Of course I do. Did you think I was going to forget how you bought ginger ale instead of beer for the banquet, and pocketed the difference to buy a car?

Well, I guess that DID happen.

You sound... distracted, Demetri.

Do I? It's nothing. I guess it's been too long since we last saw each other.

Take care on your way, Leon.

Might have taken that as a threat, if we weren't in Nuova Volsinii.

Enough joking and hurry up. I'm waiting at the seat by the window.

Leontuzzo hangs up.

He has not seen the man on the other end of the phone for a year now. He knows what he wants and how to decline his offer.

Leontuzzo shakes his head at the thought of the reunion, which promises to be a less-than-pleasant one.

A beam of light shines on his face.

What the—who drives like that?

Wait, that vehicle—

Hey, what's going on with my steering wheel—

Keep your distance! It's dangerous!

Out of the way! Make way for the stretcher!

Signore! Can you hear me?

Hang in there! The ambulance is almost here!

Where... am... I...

Stay still, signore! You've lost a lot of blood—

Who is... that...?

The last thing Leontuzzo remembers before he loses consciousness is a blurry yellow silhouette—

A taxi.

The Carnevale has brought countless visitors from Siracusa and beyond to Nuova Volsinii.

This taxi does not seem different from any other that carries visitors across the city.

Except for the great, strange shadow that it wears.

Not cast by the towering buildings, nor a trick of the neon lights. It is the shadow of a wolf.

The taxi slithers through the city like a ghost, carrying a wolf from the wilderness.

Slower, Lappland.

What? The ageless, deathless Signore dei Lupi, afraid of being thrown out of a car?

It's your car I'm worried about. Keep driving it like this, and it'll fall apart.

We managed to get it fixed when it was just a bunch of scrap metal lying out there in the wilderness. It's strong, trust it.

Or do you not trust my driving skills? I don't fool around with my own life... except when necessary.

You don't want the police to find you and throw you in jail, or the mafia to find you and throw you into a meat grinder, do you? At least, not yet.

We're getting better at reading each other's minds, Zaaro.

We still have a Carnevale to go to, after all.

I thought you would scorn the Carnevale for lacking in revelry, seeing all the colorful lights and balloons that line the streets.

Of course not.

Carnevale had been a thing for centuries, dating back to when Siracusa was just a backwater province of Leithanien.

The Lupo of Siracusa found that they were still restless and uneasy, even after getting their own city, and the order of the famiglia.

And so, for a few days in a year, the famiglie run amok in the city, settling scores, fighting over territory, or simply engaging in wanton violence.

Assault, arson, robbery, murder—everything was fair game as long as you had your mask on.

The first thing Signora Sicilia did when she came to power was to abolish the festival, but Nuova Volsinii has persuaded her to permit its revival.

They hope that reviving the festival without the brutality and cruelty would give this blank slate of a city new meaning, and a sense of belonging for the people who have come to seek out a new life.

Is that not Carnevale—a wonderful thing?

Have we gotten into poetry now? Your showmanship is beyond mortal help, Lappland.

Just excited about it.

I promise that the reborn festival will be an unforgettable one for everyone—the Lupi included.

I hope you remember our agreement. This round is coming to a close. Do not disappoint me, Lappland.

As I said, our battle will continue for thousands upon thousands of years.

Well, strap in, and hang on—