Arknights - Hearts of Fortune collection

Siracusan troubles Part 2

Mafia talk, great. The sound of him gulping was heard.

"The guy works for the Victorian Broadcasting Company, VBC, you know? The Laterzas ratted us out to him, spilled the beans about the necklace and your connection to the mafia. We gotta deal with this guy, and fast."

"That could be a problem. But i don't see how a journalist publishing one singular article about me and some necklace can hurt me or something." i said with a low voice as i laid back on the chair.

"Listen here, pal. You've been livin' and doin' your thing in Victoria 'cause you got yourself a benefactor, no? And we both know it's some nobleman. But here's the thing – if this article goes public, that nobleman ain't gonna stick his neck out for you no more. He's gonna wash his hands clean and leave you high and dry. And you know what happens then? The Victorian constabulary will be all over you like flies on shit, diggin' up every little thing about you. And once they're done, they're gonna send you packin' back to Iberia—"

"Yeah yeah i got it. I keep forgetting you're from Siracusa. Jeez, keep it in formal talk would ya? Not this mafia crap." I sighed, "so? How does he look like?"

I felt a tap to my side.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" the person points to the empty chair in front of me.

"Nope." I simply replied.

The person then takes the chair and joins a group of people partying about 3 tables in front of me. Eh, why a café of all things?

"Were you listening?" Fantasma asked through the phone.

"Sorry, sorry. Something came up."

"listen 'ere. Feline, young, maybe in his early 30s. Grey hair, grey tails, white spots. Left- handed, square glasses. Outgoing. Family man." He explains.

My brain processed the information for a while before realising.

That's the fucking person who asked to grab a chair before! I looked at him and his group.

Feline, seems like he's in his 30s, grey hair and tails with white spots. Holding his beer on his left hand, glasses, and having a conversation!?

That's it. That's him. That. Is. Him.

"Hey uh, Fantasma? Catch you later." I hung up on the phone.

The rain outside intensified and the streets began to accumulate pools of water, not to the level of flooding though. I mean, after I ended the phone a very loud lightning strike shocked everyone in the café, including me.

Ahhh... What is this foreboding feeling? Hmm? Oh, my coffee is gone. And so is my fries.

Whatever, you're filthy rich now, Valor, albeit on dirty money. I'll just order more. No problem.

As I raised my hand to call a waiter, the café's entrance was burst open by a man in his... 20s if had to guess...

"HELP! HELP! IS SOMEONE HERE A DOCTOR?!" The Feline yelled clearly agitated, "My Wife is about to give birth!!"

Hold on. What?

"Sir, please calm down." Said one of the waiters attempting to calm him down, "What happened?"

"My wife went into labour and the FUCKING RAIN made the highways congested!! We can't get to the hospital in time if the FUCKING RAIN isn't­­-" The man rants.

"Ok ok we get it. Where's your wife?" I approached him. He's pretty desperate looking at his face. First time parent, maybe?

"She's in the car! Are you a doctor?!"