One day in FebruaryIn front of Ra’s Lance
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It really did look like a spear that pierced the sky.
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On the coast of New York, not far from Manhattan.
Surrounded by several commercial establishments, the building towered proudly.
In two different senses of the word, the high-rise was cutting-edge. The farther up you went, the more the building tapered, and even among the skyscrapers of Manhattan, its design was avant-garde.
This structure, which had an even finer point than the Empire State Building, was an integrated commercial facility that included a hotel.
At present, tensions inside were high.
A few of the people involved knew why:
The building—which had been nicknamed “Ra’s Lance,” as in the spear of the Egyptian sun god—was the venue for an illegal casino party to which the local wealthy citizens had been invited.
Of course, the conscientiously law-abiding and those who had no interest in gambling weren’t participating. But they also weren’t foolish enough to report it to the police.
The invitations for this party had been issued by the Runorata Family, one of the East’s leading mafia syndicates. On top of that, many other outfits would be running rooms there. They couldn’t risk sticking their noses in and having somebody put the curse on them, so most of the wealthy kept their mouths shut.
There were quite a few people who seemed like the type to snitch—but the Runorata Family had somehow sussed out those with such a sense of justice and avoided sending them invitations.
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The tension around the building wouldn’t dissipate in a day.
The casino party was being held for three days running.
The initial plan had been to hold the party only on the day of the building’s grand opening. Maybe the number of participants had grown, or maybe the under-the-table negotiations with the police had succeeded, because the window had suddenly expanded to three days.
It was fine to attend for only a single day, of course, and several syndicates that were wary of police interference or a trap had refused to participate for all three. However, about half the syndicates had chosen to run rooms for the duration of the event.
The Martillo Family and the Gandor Family were in the second category.
The Martillos in particular had no reason to back down from the fight Melvi had picked with them.
A variety of other syndicates had chosen to accept the Runoratas’ invitation, for reasons of their own—but gangsters and high-society types weren’t the only ones attending.
Near evening, when it was almost time for the gambling dens to open…
…those who had been dragged into the “current” and those who’d created currents themselves began to gather around Ra’s Lance, each with their own intentions.
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The enormous spear thrust into the sky.
Everyone there seemed to believe they would be the one to pick up that weapon and impale their prey.
In the parking lot behind Ra’s Lance
“The sharp yet dull blade pierced heaven’s very eardrum, eviscerating the clouds… The gods are screaming! ‘Let us censure this raging appetite! Applaud it! Cheer it!’ Desires took the place of the gods, and the gods were returned to immaculate chaos!”
“……”
“Thus men testified: ‘Men are men! Therefore, we cannot allow heaven to exist,’ quoth they, in chokèd screams! Come, let us climb! Scale the stairways that lead to this heavenly hell—Gwuff!”
“Shut up.”
The whiskered man in the hat—the Poet—had been yelling his unsettling nonsense, until the toes of a beautiful woman in a green dress—Sickle—slammed into the side of his head.
“Why can’t you just say ‘That’s a weird building’?”
“Gnrrrrgh… Frankness appears to be a virtue at first blush, but it is no more than deception in the guise of purity. It is casting a contemptuous glance at the world! They who do not doubt the world scream with their so-proclaimed ‘ingenuous’ hearts: ‘The world is as we see it! There’s no cause for doubt! Let us give thanks to ourselves, for having been blessed with a tepid year’s luck!’ Then they wield their power openly, with no suspicions whatsoever, striving to compel others to accept that world! Yes! Just as you are— Nwughruff!”
The Poet toppled over, screaming as he went, and Sickle slammed a heel into his back. “Maybe you should have some doubts for your own brain.”
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The parking lot of Ra’s Lance was filled with the mafia’s luxury cars.
In one area of the lot, there was a growing group of very odd individuals. They were the members of Lamia, a subunit of Larva, one of Huey’s handpicked organizations.
When they heard the Poet and Sickle’s conversation, the ones who’d previously been silent began to put their two cents in.
“Um, i-is it okay for us to be somewhere this obvious?”
The speaker was Frank, an enormous young child over six feet tall. He’d been badly hurt during the Chicago incident, but he was back in action by now. He looked around, murmuring uneasily, “D-do you think Rail will be here, too?”
Although he was talking to himself, an Asian man—Chi—overheard. “I hear Rail’s with Christopher. That’s all that matters.”
“I see. Then I won’t w-worry,” Frank said, sounding rather relieved.
A girl who was all bundled up and wore a stocking cap pulled down over her eyes hung her head; she seemed lonely. “…Do you think Christopher’s ever coming back to us?”
“No idea. Either way, Master Huey says it’s fine to leave him alone, so it’s not a problem,” said a woman with a beautiful design tattooed on her face.
All sorts of others had joined the gathering: a man in a swallowtail coat, a muscular bespectacled fellow who was naked to the waist, and an individual in a skull mask whose gender and age were unclear.
Since there was a circus tent pitched in the nearby plaza, the passersby decided they were part of the troupe and went on their way without giving them much thought.
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That said, the members of Lamia didn’t know what that circus tent was actually for.
Inside the tent
A huge tent had been pitched beside Ra’s Lance.
There was nothing special inside it. It was just a large, quiet space.
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That space was populated by a few scattered shadows.
Two small figures stood side by side near the center of the tent: Bartolo Runorata’s grandson, Cazze, and Senator Beriam’s daughter, Mary.
“What are you going to use the tent for?” Mary asked, perplexed.
Cazze gave her a sunny smile. “It’s a vacation house for my friend!”
“?”
“Eh-heh-heh! Just wait till you meet Charlie! He’ll knock your socks off, Mary!”
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Two men stood a little distance from the children, watching their conversation.
Their faces were identical, and they wore matching goggles on their heads.
These were Gabriel and Juliano, twins who were acting as Cazze’s bodyguards on Bartolo’s orders. Normally, they were part of Bartolo’s personal security unit, and they worked with the other members to guard their boss’s family in shifts. However, for the past month or so, Bartolo had assigned them exclusively to Cazze.
“Now then, when was Charlie due to arrive, I?” Gabriel asked.
“He’ll get here sometime tonight, Me,” Juliano told him.
Gabriel was a gentleman, while Juliano was more coarse in manner. They were close, though, and they referred to each other in a peculiar way, as “I” and “Me.”
The two never hesitated to risk their lives for Bartolo or Cazze, but they had their concerns about this particular job. As they talked, they were scanning their surroundings with extra caution in their eyes.
“Why do you suppose Senator Beriam’s daughter is here again today, I?”
“No clue. She’s probably not here to game at the casino. Maybe the boss and Beriam struck some kind of deal, Me?”
“If this was by Mr. Bartolo’s design, there’s no need to ask about it.”
“Yeah. No need to doubt it, either.”
The two narrowed their eyes and nodded. Then they exchanged a brief glance.
“What will we do if Mr. Beriam proves to be plotting something, I?”
“Is that a suggestion to cut an ear off the little lady and send it to him, Me?”
“Perish the thought. She’s young Master Cazze’s friend. We’d never do something that would grieve him.”
“Yeah, that’s true. The young master would be crushed.”
Looking away, they laughed.
“Which means we’ll just have to dispose of Mr. Beriam directly.”
“Yeah. Better to keep it simple, Me.”
These two may have been guards, but they were also the Runorata Family’s brilliant “hunters.” As they fulfilled their duty of protecting Cazze, deep down, they couldn’t wait.
They just couldn’t wait for Bartolo or Cazze to sic them on a target.