[PREQUEL] (W) ᴜɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ ♗

11| One man's politican, another man's puppet

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Elections were a stressful time for those who were running.

Giving their time, effort and energy into a multitude of campaigns—that if not successful–would have all been in vain. On an above-surface level, where crime was not the core of a humane lifestyle, some politicians had a little more to lose than to gain.

Their status to the people they were hoping to gain votes from, in order to influence change and law within the government that still stood would have shaken slightly. Overall, they would have still been able to move on with their lives. Study the tactics of the name elected president; to see what they could conjure up in the next four years of their election.

They could have still had the freedom to leave their houses, power on their expensive cars and go about their day unscaved and unharmed.

You want to know why that was?

Because they chose not to make deals with the demons in diamonds.

No matter the financial influence, not even the BlackStar could tamper with the people's will of speech and freedom to be heard. Even with how much money they were worth, dollars and democracy didn't mix. It couldn't have.

Which is why the bait they chose to push their agenda forward into a dictatorship had come to them. With no place to go, so support system and no successful career to call his own.

The Structure lended him a hand, in exchange for the control they would gain once he won the upcoming election; the one he lost four years ago when everything along with his political dream came crashing down onto him.

4 years before he got himself into this whole criminal ordeal for a chance to be president. Ayumi losing the last election is what gave the silver empire a pawn to misplace wherever they'd like on the board.

For the promise of becoming president, invisible strings would have caught his flesh. Restrictions and command on his free-will were in the hands of a family, who's single lip movement could command an army of thousands beneath them.

He was trapped and he was on schedule.

Running late on said schedule.

Out of breath and exasperated, the politician mustered up all the bravery his ballsacks could muster before pushing those double doors open. He looked back, a little slower than his steps knowing he wouldn't have left this room as the same man that entered.

On both sides of this upcoming assault, did they both have a job to do.

Joji-Tan Ayumi's simple task was just to take it with a smile.

Or whatever expression gets mistaken beneath those very protruding wrinkles.

His current debt to the Structure was so prominent, not even he could flee their confrontation this time around. Anxiety ran through his veins. The overthinking consequences of taking money from the structure in the city of Shibuya hangs over his head like a noose.