level_act20mini_st01

You hear something?

It's a busy street, it's <i>all</i> something.

What I'm more worried about is this smell.

The goods got all packed up, and stashed in the cellar. Shouldn't be any smell at all...

Hah, well, if you find anything loose, I could go for a taste.

Don't even think about it. They say this stuff's the cream of the crop.

But that scent is makin' me wanna quit this job.

You wanna quit workin', or wanna quit work <i>here?</i>

What's the difference?

Either way, we're stuck roamin' this street, keepin' watch and hopin' nobody comes lookin' for trouble.

That red paint from last night ain't washin' out. Once we get paid, I'm buyin' a new coat for my ride.

Suit yourself. I'm savin' my share. The company's gonna need more guys for later.

What's with the look?

Nuova Volsinii really is a goddamn miracle, turnin' a Sicilian like you into a responsible businessman. This fat Kazimierzian pays way more than Antonio ever did, right?

How was I supposed to know runnin' a taxi company had all these costs?

Even drivin' a taxi's a lot more exciting than patrollin' this street, though.

What kind of dipshit with too much time on his hands would try to mess up this 'Red Wine Championship', anyway? I got nothin'.

Fuhgeddaboudit. We're done with this street, let's head back to the theater.

Y'know, why'd the Kazimierzian come to us with this event security job anyway?

Beats me. Maybe a referral from some kind soul.

Ladies and gentlemen, if I may occupy a moment of your time.

The lighting in the theater is almost a little too bright, as if trying to light up every face in the building. A well-dressed businessman stands in the center of the stage, lightly tapping the glass of red wine in his hand.

The crisp note is not loud, but it still gets the guests to quiet down.

I know you're all looking forward to the wine and the music, and to the moments ahead that will be worth remembering.

But we'll get to that. First, I'd like to say a few words: hosting the Red Wine Championship here in this city means so much to us.

Nuova Volsinii is a promise of order. And ever since we selected this place for our competition, that promise has been proven beyond doubt.

Wine takes time.

And time demands stability.

The Kazimierzian businessman continues on once the applause dies down. He talks of the year of the vintage, how it was made, and of course, intercity cooperation and logistics systems.

Every word falls into place, with nary a syllable wasted.

Naturally, without the support of Nuova Volsinii City Hall, this championship might never have come together so quickly.

It is our honor to be working with you, Mayor Bellone.

Nuova Volsinii welcomes all foreign partners willing to abide by our city's laws.

So long as you are here to do respectable business, nothing will stand in your way.

Haha, of course, of course.

I'm not here to flatter you.

In Nuova Volsinii, I have no fear of the famiglie trying to get a hand in my business, no need to search for any 'hidden meanings' in the deals I sign.

Such clarity in business is truly priceless.

It sounds like you have a very positive opinion of our city.

Exactly, that is why we wish to bring the finest wines here, alongside some much-needed cooperation.

In that case, <i>we</i> find ourselves honored.

We're still waiting here, when are we getting started?

Yeah, I wanna see how good Kazimierzian wine really is!

A few rude voices force their way out of the crowd, and begin to spread throughout the audience. But under the bright lights, the businessman's face shows no signs of displeasure.

Haha, I suppose I've droned on too long and tested our guests' patience.

Then I would like to invite Nuova Volsinii's famed orchestra to the stage! Their performance shall serve as the opening ceremony for the championship finals!

As the lights dim, Czarek takes the opportunity to accompany Leontuzzo off the stage, to appreciate the performance from some nearby corner.

Leontuzzo, however, does not look to the stage. With no glaring lights to blind him, he can see the man calmly walking up to him.

<i>Mi dispiace.</i> My associates aren't used to this sort of thing, so they got a little excited.

It's fine. There'll probably be plenty more events like this coming to Nuova Volsinii.

Guess I'd better teach them to behave soon, then.

And who might this gentleman be?

Signor Demetri Bellone, a local wine merchant, also participating in the competition.

Ah, your reputation precedes you—the young, promising head of Saluzzo Vino.

A pleasure. Though there's one thing I've been meaning to ask—

Everyone is here tonight just for the tasting session, right?

Haha, of course, of course.

The question of a wine's quality is ultimately answered by the tongue.

Good.

I was worried this championship would be decided by whose background was cleaner or who had the nicer story to tell.

Haha, the story behind a wine is important, but if the wine cannot stand on its own two feet, then even the prettiest words will not prop it up for long.

You're right. I'm sure the victor will be crowned based solely on its flavor.

It sounds like you won't be disappointed, even if your wine doesn't make it to the finals.

You're a funny man, Mayor Bellone.

You look the very picture of a businessman now.

Were you hoping I wouldn't be?

I've heard Kazimierzians have great faith in 'fair competition'. I'm eager to see it for myself tonight.

But I have the feeling the real results will make themselves known very quickly.

Haha, sounds like I have something to look forward to. To witness a fair competition in Nuova Volsinii, a city no longer bound by the old rules—

Why, that's the entire reason we're here.

You hear something?

You asked me that when we were heading out the door.

What could be makin' noise down in the cellar, unless it's someone stealin' wine?

This is all the wine they got for the competition? Just this one row?

Yeah. I gues' the guests get to drink the entries once it's over. You'd hafta be missing a few screws to try n' steal some right now.

So can we drink some?

Yeah, sure, lemme pour you a glass. Of course we can't, <i>idiota</i>.

Shame.

You said you wanted to try some, right? If you pour yourself a glass, I won't snitch.

As soon as the words leave his mouth, footsteps ring out from between some shelves around the corner.

A Caprinae with a hood obscuring his face lowers his head as he walks through the shelves, heading for the stairs leading up. Soon enough, he has left the cellar.

He's gone.

Probably didn't hear us...

From that distance? He wouldn't have even seen us. Long horns like that, gotta be a Caprinae. I figure he's with the orchestra.

Why would an orchestra guy be down here at a time like this? They're goin' on in a minute, right?

Maybe he's just calming his nerves. You got your own tics, y'know? Every time you're holdin' your piece, you keep scratchin' at the safety with your nail.

<i>Cazzata</i>, I ain't done that in years—

Gambino shuts up the moment he hears more agitated footsteps.

Another Caprinae appears from the shadows, following the echoing footsteps of the orchestra member from earlier. She, too, quickly leaves the cellar.

This time, both Capone and Gambino saw suspicion on the blonde girl's face.

Hey, I know that ragazza. She's the daughter of the lady who runs the orchestra, gave me my security pass.

When was the last time I saw this many Caprinae in Siracusa?

I figure the whole orchestra is from Leithanien.

What, you gonna say something like 'just like the Sicilians'?

Nah. Was just thinkin' how Nuova Volsinii's gettin' too crowded. Kuranta, Caprinae, hell, if I came across an Ægir on the street, I wouldn't even bat an eye anymore.

I'm hopin' for fewer strange-looking passengers through the door.

Let's do one more lap around the cellar. The performance oughta be startin' up there.

The orchestra takes the stage, and the lights dim once more.

The strings begin with restrained, gentle tones. Soon, they are joined by the woodwinds. Though the melody can hardly be called brash, it serves as a vector to reveal the notes in their most perfect forms.

The audience lifts their glasses, slowly swaying them along to the music. Leontuzzo sits in the front row, watching his neighbor Demetri refuse yet another glass of red wine from an attendant.

You come to a wine tasting and don't taste the wine.

I just don't have an appreciation for the smell of that Kazimierzian red wine.

You got here earlier than I expected.

I was invited, so I'm not allowed to drop by at the last second. Otherwise, it'll look like I'm back to my old habits.

Aren't you in the same situation, Mayor Bellone?

Whenever you say 'old habits', it always makes me feel like you're bragging about the progress you've made.

I'll take that as a compliment. You know me. I was never any good at picking out the condemnations between the praise.

Leontuzzo does not answer. He simply turns his head away from the stage and back toward Demetri, his eyes falling on the bowtie around his neck.

It's been too long since they last met. He's not sure just how much of Demetri's current business-like demeanor is sincere.

You look like a real businessman today, Demetri.

Not to your liking?

There are a lot of things to my liking, but that doesn't mean I'm not worried.

What about Nuova Volsinii? Is it going the way you hoped it would? Worried about the city and the people who scurry around it?

It's growing as I expected.

You're the same as you ever were. You talk about order, but your eyes are fixed on the people—Hey, my hands are clean. What, scared I'm gonna take something from you?

What scares me is you treating the city like your kitchen table. Give it a flip, and everything on top will come crashing down to the ground.

Then you'd better watch me closely, Leon. The closer you stick to me, the harder it'll be for me to mess up.

The Kazimierizian businessman beside them is clearly in a good mood.

He stands up as the performance ends, lightly applauding as he signals the attendants to prepare the next step.

I have to say, I love how you Nuova Volsiniese know when to applaud, and when to stay quiet.

It's a rare thing. Most places, people make a ruckus when they should be silent, and stay quiet when they should be clapping up a storm.

I'd like to thank the orchestra for their marvelous performance. I'd also like to invite tonight's judge to come and witness our competition.

A musician from Leithanien and a guest of this fair city, Frau Paola.

As a woman unaffiliated with any wine dealer or famiglia, I think there's no one more suited for the job.

The conductor on the stage gives a graceful nod to the audience, before being guided by an attendant to the table of red wines at the front.

<i>Buonasera</i>, everyone.

I know only how to play music and conduct an orchestra, so I'm not very good at offering praise, or pretty descriptions, but since I'm judging the finals, I promise—

I will sample them all with care, then say what I feel as I drink them, truthfully.

Haha, that's exactly why we chose you.

Pretty descriptions? No, what we need are honest assessments.

He lifts his hand, beckoning the attendants to fill three wine glasses from three decanters.

Now then, let's begin.

The three finalists come from different wineries and different terroirs, and they each have their own 'ambitions'.

The rules are simple: no looking at the labels, no listening to any stories, just pure flavor. If you will, Frau Paola.

The tall musician nods, a serious look on her face as she lifts the first glass. She sniffs, sips, swallows, and stops.

The first glass... sticks strictly to the standard.

The aroma is unassertive; it does not rush the mouth. The fruity flavor is front-loaded, and quickly restrained.

You can tell that it avoids making any mistakes, not letting any one flavor linger for too long. All in all, a harmonious package.

This is a wine I could offer to guests without worry.

The second glass is, hmm, very much like the locals.

The alcohol makes itself known quickly, but not in an irritating way, and without any sharp sensations.

It's a little bold when entering the mouth, with a direct sourness, the type that wouldn't ask for your opinion beforehand.

It is the third glass that Paola savors the slowest. She takes a sip, but does not immediately swallow, letting the red wine linger on the tip of her tongue for a moment.

The third glass...

There's no brashness at the beginning, but the layering and the structure are very clear. It's not a crowd-pleasing sort of wine...

It's as if... it doesn't care if you enjoy it or not. It's not going to try and win you over. It knows its own path, and it'll walk it to the end.

It has attitude. An attitude I happen to like.

Czarek turns to the audience and raises his hand, as if he were already standing atop the podium.

Now, Frau Paola, if you would pick which of the three glasses you believe is most worth remembering—

The third, naturally.

Czarek is practically already reaching out for the bottle behind the third glass. His voice is more excited than before, but he maintains his composure.

Well, I think we all heard her.

This wine is—

You'd best check the label again.

Otherwise, things might end up rather embarrassing for you.

Pardon...?

Czarek freezes. He slowly looks down at the bottle. The moment he gets a clear look at the label, the smile on his face dies.

But only for a moment. A moment so short that almost nobody can react. Once it passes, his rictus grin is plastered back onto his face.

...It seems tonight's first surprise arrived earlier than I expected.

Like you said, no leaning on stories, just the wine itself.

I really must wonder, though, how did a bottle of 'Golden Prairie' transform into a wine that isn't on the list of finalists?

Oh? I guess even Kazimierz's legendary business management systems aren't free from little mistakes like registration errors.

Haha, yes, just a little mistake!

Let's all give a warm round of applause to the winner, Saluzzo Vino!

Your wine has earned our most stringent, yet most objective praise.

Grazie mille. I'm glad the words 'fair competition' still apply tonight.

It's a good thing for everyone involved.

Haha, a good thing indeed.

If the winner were always predetermined, then business would be dreadfully boring. And the very reason I came to Nuova Volsinii was to get away from boring business.

Let us toast! To the champion, a local winery—and to this fair city!

<i>Salute</i>.

The attendants begin refilling the guests' glasses. Applause rings out once more, more enthusiastic than before.

Applause that includes Leontuzzo's clapping.

Not going to toast me, Leon?

You know my palate isn't as refined as yours. Won't you introduce your winning wine before the toast?

Hah... If you insist.

This isn't a wine that needs much introduction. It's not trying to impress anyone, or to prove anything with the first sip.

It's most suited for when the dinner table's almost cleared out, and most things worth saying have been said, but you're not quite ready to leave yet. That's when you notice there's still a glass of this left.

It will be your final safeguard, making sure your words don't spill out onto the floor. It will remind you of the past, and make it easier to reach an agreement.

If you think this is exactly the wine you need, then it's already done its job.

This wine... has some grand ambitions.

So it does. It's like what Frau Paola just said. It follows the path of its choosing, without caring whether you like it or not.

Since it chose this road, I've got nothing to say about whether I like it.

Demetri smiles, but does not answer. He simply raises his glass, giving it a gentle clink against Leontuzzo's.

Before the clink can fade away, a light, incongruent cough makes itself heard from the other side of the stage.

Paola's hand stops in midair, the glass between her fingers trembling ever so slightly, as the wine leaves irregular streaks on the glass.

...Sorry.

*cough* *COUGH*!

She wants to finish speaking, but all her subconscious lets her do is steady her breathing. Her second cough comes out sharp. She tries to lower her voice, but she cannot cover it up completely.

The blonde girl who is always by her side is the first to notice the look on her face. Paola lifts her hand to prop herself up against the table, but she can no longer stand steady.

The glass falls from her hand, letting out a muffled thump as it falls onto the carpet.

She falls forward, her body unable to support itself.

Some cry out, some rise to their feet, and some reflexively take a step back.

Before the attendants can rush to the scene, she has already collapsed by the table, no longer breathing, her lips taking on an odd hue under the lights.

The blonde girl babbles things like 'Paola!' and 'Help her!'.

The smile instantly disappears from Demetri's face. Czarek stays standing, but does not speak.

With the flash of chaos now over, the theater sinks into a surreal silence.

Moments ago, they were toasting things like 'fairness', 'dignity' and 'victory'.

But now, nobody reaches for the wine on the table.

The disturbance did not last long. Thanks to the mayor and some municipal staff among the attendees, the situation is quickly reined in.

Many people simply stand there, unsure if they should move closer, or leave.

Please remain calm, everyone.

The medics are already on their way. Before we clean up, I would like to ask you all to work with our security staff, and not act on your own.

Mayor Bellone, I must emphasize to both you and our guests that the wines underwent a strict auditing process.

None of us wished to see anything like this happen.

But we cannot allow rumors to spread.

Leontuzzo stands to the side. He does not answer immediately. He looks at the table the attendants have moved away from the rest, and then at Demetri, who still stands in the same spot.

Demetri says nothing. He does not approach, nor back away. He gently puts the wine glass he is holding down, which lets out the lightest of clinks as its foot meets the table.

The noise prompts Czarek to continue.

Something unexpected happened at the wine tasting.

The label on the wine bottle does not match our registry.

I don't believe this is an act of malice. But under the present circumstances, anything outside the standard process needs a clear explanation.

The crowd's gazes wash over the scene like a wave, before inevitably landing on Demetri.

If you're waiting for me to explain, then I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint.

I'm as shocked as anyone else here that something like this could happen.

As for the bottle of wine, I was only responsible for its flavor, and getting it to the theater on time.

Anything else is none of my business.

You are the young, promising head of a winery, but also the young, promising head of a gang, aren't you? You might be uninvolved, but you have plenty of minions to get involved for you.

According to many eyewitnesses, Frau Paola suddenly fell to the ground after taking another drink from the bottle of Saluzzo Vino red that mysteriously appeared.

What sort of grudge was there between you two that led to this?

Was it not enough that your wine won my championship? Did you want to ruin my business as well?

Or do you famiglia bosses have your feuds and conspiracies in which you trample over us ordinary folk?

Signor Czarek.

We do not know all the facts yet. Nuova Volsinii has its own procedures, and this incident will be investigated accordingly.

Since it was a public incident, the police will be involved. Before they announce their results, nobody, neither individual nor body corporate, should be making premature statements.

Naturally, of course.

We also hope the truth will come to light quickly. Otherwise, people will lose trust in Kazimierzian reds, perhaps even local Nuova Volsiniese reds as well.

Mayor Bellone, death is not a welcome guest at my Red Wine Championship, I suspect at any wine meet.

And I would prefer not to hear streetcorner rumors about how our Kazimierzian competition was drawn into famiglia struggles, how we were powerless to resist... Things like that.

Surely you are aware that we businessmen of Kazimierz, along with our counterparts from Leithanien, Columbia, and nations even further afield...

Are only here in Nuova Volsinii because of what kind of promises you've made.

Czarek lowered his voice, but the reporters and cameramen invited to the venue to capture the championship seem to have heard every word.

The cameras are flashing much more frequently than they were.

Under their glare, Demetri steps forward.

If you need me to comply with the investigation, then I won't run and hide.

I will halt all activities until the results are in.

Demetri! As I said, I am begging everyone to avoid any rash actions until after things have been cleared up.

Well, I appear to be the prime suspect right now. So I will stay where I should stay, and let the police do all the investigating they want.

I ask that you do it all in accordance with the standard procedures you mentioned, Mayor Bellone.

...Right.

I'll make the arrangements.

Does City Hall still need time to send the police? No need to trouble them, then. My own hired security can <i>escort</i> Signor Bellone home.

Leontuzzo was looking at the red-haired Lupo's face earlier, trying to see if he could spot anything.

The moment the wine glass fell to the floor, the smile on Demetri's face vanished. Now, it has returned, just barely perceptible.

But it is only a smile. Leontuzzo is not sure if he should interpret it as 'I won't embarrass you', 'I believe you can figure this out', or 'I made plans for this long ago'.

Before he can finish deciphering it, Demetri is led to the exit, flanked by Capone and Gambino. As he passes by, their gazes meet for the shortest of instants, before they are separated.

The flashing lights of the reporters' cameras cascade across Demetri's face.

Leontuzzo instinctively turns away, composing himself before turning back to the foreigner who has seized this chance to pile on the pressure and demand more from him.

How'd you put it?

'I beg your forgiveness, Don Demetri. Did the rope chafe you?'

Nearly died tryin' not to laugh.

He's the real power behind the Saluzzos in Nuova Volsinii, and the new don of the Bellones. Can't hurt to show him a little respect.

Not to mention the tip he gave us—Hell, can't even call a wad of cash this big a 'tip'.

A don, but he still got pulled into that foreign moneyman's scheme.

You think the Kazimierzian pulled one over on him?

I'm tellin' you, I think he spiked that drink on purpose, just to get in the middle of all this... Remember when we dragged him outta the theater, man was as cool as a cucumber.

Wise guys like him, who were born into the famiglie, they're good at this kinda scheming, and used to it too.

Who the hell knows, man? I don't give a shit.

This is Nuova Volsinii, not Sicilia. You and I both know how stupid dons can look when they fall from the top.

Hey, you think those reporters got a photo of our taxi company's sign when we were takin' him out of that place?

Buy a paper tomorrow and check for yourself.

Maybe they'll only get the 'Siciliano' part of it, now that'd be a joke.

What, mad? Fine, I'll drop it.

Nah... it's not that. I just suddenly got the feeling like maybe Nuova Volsinii is still a Siracusan city.

There's been a lotta change here, but in the end, maybe nothin's changed at all.

Or maybe, when you push somethin' that's never changed down a new track, some other stuff's gotta start poppin' up.