An Eizan out of water

Indignation (2)

Silver

Eizan Territory, Red Dragon's Den

7th September 2315, Monday 7:59p.m.

The Red Dragon's Den is just a simple two-storey house by the edge of South Row, and one with a rather traditional design of a typical American home. However, it's where most of my most trusted men are always gathered at whenever I need a place for discussions. Or perhaps even a party between my clan members. By now, the sun has set. Accompanied by Isabella, I make my down the streets with a vein throbbing in my temple. Maybe one day, I'll be a less irritable person. But today is not that day.

The familiar sight of our den's mahogany door looms ahead, with only the dim lighting of the front porch to welcome us. Isabella remains silent throughout the journey, aware that my temper currently has the stability of a fragile, oversized bubble. Muffled music and other noises from within the house can be heard even from outside.

With a hand on the brass handle, I barge through the door, shoving it wide open. The wall of wood smashes hard against the concrete at the side, and I let Isabella take care of the rest as I furiously stomp through the hallway. Without so much as a glance at the living room, I already know that Dino is probably tuning in to his usual channels. The dramatic Japanese voice actors gave it all away.

"Boss?" a gruff voice calls from the living room. It's Jason, one of my most trusted vanguards within the clan. 36 years-old, big muscular man with a bald head, stubble beard but still a cool-headed thinker nonetheless.

"Dino, if you're watching one of those fuckin' Japanese cartoons in my den again, I'm gonna ban you from the house for a month," I roar frustratedly, grabbing a can of beer from the fridge before slamming it close again. A squirt of gas hisses from the can as I open it before taking my first gulp of the cold, bitter alcohol.

The nature of the television programme immediately changes as soon as I've made my threats, and Dino urgently answers back, "N-nuh, boss! I wasn't! I was just watching uh... Max debating."

"What?" I bellow yet again before storming back down the hallway. "You're masturbating in our fuckin' hideout? You gonna clean the place up yourself?"

Several gruff, hearty laughs sounds across the house immediately after. Isabella stands by the hallway without a visible trace of emotion to the events, awaiting for me to enter the living room before following suit.

"No!" Dino exclaims. "Boss, please! Max Conwell! Debating!"

"Doesn't matter what excuses you make, my friend," Nicolai sniggers before ruffling the boy's hair. "We all know you wouldn't mind jacking off in front of three grown men anyways."

"L-leave me alone, Nicky."

Sung Hoon, one of my clan's most skilled martial artist walks over to me with a cigarette clasped in his lips. He's a 26 year-old Korean with shaggy black hair, coal-black eyes and a handsome clean-shaven face. These appearances are accompanied by an average build with a not-so-average level of cockiness radiating from him all the time. However, he deeply respects both me and Isabella as his superiors.