JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: fanpart "Days Of The Future Past"

Chapter 11: Get back on track

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The room was dark. Vasco stood in front of massive metal doors that led to the conferance room his brother was in. He was much weary, fearing what could happen if he interrupted his brother's meeting. He was told that an important "business partner" was in the room, and walking in would be improper to say the least, but in face of reacent happenings, Vasco had to notify his brother.
Vasco took a deep breath, and reached for a handle. Upon pushing the wing, a warm interior was made clear. Textured walls were layed with fake bricks, and an electronic fireplace cast a warm glow onto the furniture.
On large velvet armchairs, two figures were sitting. One of them was Vasco's brother and the Boss of the organization. Vasco knocked. When the two figures turned around, he saw utter annoyance on his kin's face. Reluctantly, Vasco asked him to leave the room, as the matter was quite urgent. After excusing himself, the Boss left the room.
- What do you want Vasco? - the Boss uttered through his teeth.
- Two of our smuggling routes were attacked. We lost product. - Vasco responded, his head pointed downwards.
- Which ones?
- One in the West suburbs and one in the docks.
- Okay... And how much money have we lost? - His voice began to rise.
- Around 25 thousand... - Vasco's voice trembled with fear.
- And tell me, who was responsible? - Boss's exterior calm began to crack even more. He took out his knife.
- Lucas Vahvanen in the suburbs, Mitch Connel and Mateo Martinez in the...- Vasco was cut off.
- Wrong you dumbass! YOU! YOU WERE RESPONSIBLE! - The Boss threw his knife. It nearly missed Vasco's left eye. - I PUT YOU IN CHARGE OF COLLECTING AND DISTRIBUTION! 25000 CREDITS GONE? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE EXCEPT FOR WHINING ABOUT IT TO ME, HUH? WHAT!
- I-I sent Duff Galle to take care of this. He is reliable, had already taken care of this sort of things.- Vasco tried to keep calm.
- I have already lost too much time on you. Give me my knife back and get lost. You are lucky that you're my brother, otherwise you'd pay with your arm.
Vasco did as told and ran out the room. Meanwhile, his brother returned to his guest. He apologised for the wait, and went over to a cabinet, where he kept Moët et Chandon. Pouring two glasses of wine, he returned to the conversation previous to the interuption.

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Eden sat on his couch. The familiar setting of his room put his mind at ease. The comfortable seat and snug blankets were a stark contrast to the bleak hospital room he was in just a couple days ago. The wounds, although fully healed, still hurt. Eden could feel his flesh pulling at the sores. His arm regained most of it's motor ability. Everything was starting to look better. Eden's mission however was stagnating. He battled the thoughts of giving up entirely, but his heart was telling him that if he doesn't put an end to this, no one will. The Syndicate and other gangs will rise in power, as the goverment won't care about it's citizens. Eden got up, then sat back down. Then up again. He was walking in circles in his room, trying to figure out the next step he should take.

The decision was hard. Acting low would be the safest option. The gang would think that they got rid of the pest that made them lose money. They would let their guard down. Eden's efforts would be forgotten and The Syndicate would rise in power. On the other hand acting now would be the stupidest thing possible. Eden's body was still fragile, The gang has their members prepared for attacks. But attacking now would show determination, the will to fight, the disagreament towards the injustice in the city.

In wake of both perspectives, Eden chose the latter option. All he needed was a plan. But for that he needed to remember what made him stop in his tracks. All he could remember were gunshots. Not from a gang fight or a cyberpsycho. Those would be accidental, with no rhyme nor reason. Those bullets that Eden faced were calculated. Someone was hunting Eden, but he couldn't remember who it was. He knew he saw the perpetrator's face, but Eden couldn't recreate it in his mind.