I finally peek my head through the doorway, ready to break away if the safety of the situation is all in my head. Then I sigh, confused but relieved as a disgruntled gangster invites us to see a large man at the mercy of Jessie. Their revolver barrel is nestled in the blond hairs of a boulder-shaped man.
The big man's wide black throne faces away from Jessie, but I can see the corners of his eyes giving a hostile glare to his captor. And every other shooter is anxiously holding their weapon, either fixated on me and Victoria or Jessie and their hostage.
Victoria spins her head as she and I walk in, then stops with her eyebrows colliding. "Where's the money!? Are these guys broke!?"
"Everyone does the betting online!" Jessie informs.
"I know that, but they're gangsters! I expected them to have cash lyin' around for the fun of it! No wonder we beat you! You all suck!"
"Don't say that they're trying their best. It just shows how good of heroes we are that we stopped them. Oh and by the way, how did you feel about the new catchphrase?!"
"The don't blink thing?" I ask.
"Yeah!"
"You're gonna say that every time you do something? It's gonna get stale" Victoria warns.
"A good catchphrase never gets stale!"
The intimidating aura doubles as the group of grunts that were chasing us arrive at the door and turn to stone when they see the situation inside the room. And all Victoria and Jessie are worried about is arguing about catchphrases!
"By the third time I've heard you say that, I'll want to kill you," she continues.
"What do you think about it Ren?"
"I don't think this is the place or the time to talk about this."
"Hm, you're probably right. Guess I've probably got more workshopping to do after this! But first, how are you these days my friend from across the pond?"
"What are you doing Phantom?" The large man says with a heavy French accent.
"I came for the yearly tournament of course! I'm a huge fan if you couldn't tell."
"No, what are you doing up here? I hold fight clubs, give loans, and keep my nose away from shady business! My organization's hurting nobody, at least no one who doesn't sign up for it. And you said yourself that you'd leave us alone as long as we stayed that way!" Wait, Jessie knew about an organized crime syndicate like this and didn't do anything about it?
"You're not wrong. If the larger public isn't hurt by your actions, I'm pretty unbothered! Stopping underground fighting rings is the police's job, not the job of a hero. And you've been good ever since I've been around, that's why I haven't reported you! But your prize this year calls for concern. You're planning on giving an Antique to someone who could hurt a lot of innocent people. And that's when I have to stop looking the other way."
"I'm giving it away because I'm retiring! I don't want it anymore!"
"If you wanted to give an Antique away, we Curators would have loved to have it!"
"Êtes-vous fou!? I'm no government rat!"
"I'm not sure what that first part was about, but if you'd given it to us none of this would have happened."
"I'd never give you the Antique. I'm a man of principle! What would a reputable face like mine look like dealing with you people."
"You'll have a face without bullet holes," Victoria says. Immediately every enemy inside and out of the room casts an air of bloodlust over her.
"Hey let's not threaten him Victoria, I like Raphael!" Jessie laughs while wrapping their arm around the large man. "I don't want to see you behind bars for something so un-sinister as holding a fight club. So why not tell me where you're hiding the Antique?"
"We already delivered it to the winner you knothead! It's not even up here anymore!"
"The winner?"
Jessie, Victoria, and I all walk to the glass facing the ring. I swear if Rosa won and we made enemies with a bunch of gangsters for no reason, I'm going to blow my top.
The viewing booth serves as the perfect angle to gaze at the scarlet painting that big lady made with Rosa. The Curator's right-hand clenches the gate, holding her upper torso just off the ground. I can't tell whether she's conscious or not. Her face is turned away from us, and a slow drip is flowing out of her head.
"Is she alright!?" I ask.
Jessie's eyes squint on the scene. "Her chest is moving. She's alive, but not in good shape."
The large woman who had fought Rosa is holding her arms up with a smile. I can see her face is almost blue even from here, but she's moving around like the fight was nothing.
The ring door opens and two people enter. One is a lady holding a microphone a belt and a jar of bright green fluid under her arm, and the other is a woman with wavy brown hair and a shiny red earring patiently following her.
"And our winner of this year's Tournoi de la Pègre is, Vilma Reyes!"
The lady presents her with a championship belt, but instead of taking it, Vilma reaches to take the brown-haired woman in her arms. Her bouncing and squealing reach all the way up here through the glass. The smaller woman whispers something in her ear, and Vilma sets her down. Then she takes the belt and jar in her hands.
"Her!" Jessie presses their face against the glass.
"Vilma?" I ask.
"No, the other one!"
"Who is she?" Victoria shrugs her shoulders. "Never seen her before."
"She's a criminal," Jessie answers. "Borderline supervillain! We've gotten reports she has an Antique we're looking for, but we can never get a hold of her! Every Curator we send after her disappears too!"
"Another result of you guy's four-year-old mistake?"
"What happened four years ago?" I ask.
"It's a long story, but the gist is our HQ defenses were breached and some powerful Antiques unfortunately came into the hands of some real bad guys! Not your ordinary Saturday morning villains. According to our information, five groups of organized criminals are in possession of at least one Antique. Recently we obtained unverified information that one of those groups has disbanded, but the rest are still growing more powerful by the day."
"I wouldn't have let that happen. But I wasn't working here back then. You guys really are hopeless without me," Victoria sighs.
"This has been happening for years and the Curators left it alone?"
"We don't exactly know what Antiques they have, but we do know what Antiques we don't have. And there are still some heavy hitters missing that they might be carrying. So, the chief and some high-ranking people decided the best idea was to not shake the wasp's nest unnecessarily, hoping they all cannibalize each other and cause society minimal damage."
"An all-out war does not sound like minimal damage."
"It'd be a supervised war. We're keeping an eye on things to make sure they don't do anything too crazy. We've got the most dangerous group holed up in Santa Monica until we can deal with it, and the other four seem to be flying under the radar. Once we learned the Clous Roulles didn't own one of the more dangerous Antiques, I felt safe enough to come and retrieve it!"
"We're not really retrieving squat right now are we though," Victoria accurately comments.
"We have to grab that before they get away!"
"Pretty sure we need permission to go after them."
"Our protocol says we shouldn't agitate them, but heroes need to break the rules sometimes! It's all for the good of the people! Make sure big Raphael and his family don't do anything while I think up a plan."
While Jessie gets closer to the window, Victoria holds the gun she must have picked from Antoine's corpse up to the big boss' head. The sight of it petrifies the whole room from shooting and easily killing Victoria and me.
"So, you guys are all family. Is this like a big family tree or more like a family circle situation?" Victoria casually asks.
"We're family in name. My children won't shoot you. Not because they're worried about you shooting me, but because they don't want to shoot me.
"That's the same thing, dummy. Either situation ends with you dead." I'm going to need Victoria to shut up. Whatever reason they have not to shoot us, we shouldn't try to convince them to change it.
"If you don't understand, then you must not have a real good family, eh?"
"Not answering that."
"Then that's all the answer I need mademoiselle. Explains why you Curators act as cold as you all do."
I can't argue with that. Half the Curators I've met have been in a competition for who has the most selfish disregard for others. It's disconcerting knowing they're not the exception but the rule.
"I've been around for a while, I know how you all operate," he continues. "You're disposable fodder. Your bosses don't care about you, all they care about is whether you complete your mission or not. But us, we care for each other. Our family laughs together, cries together, mourns together, gets revenge together."
Revenge? He's not talking about me right!? "You don't mean revenge against me, right? I didn't do anything wrong here!"
"Neither did Antoine. He was a good son all around. Some people are just victims of circumstance."
I will not die a 'victim of circumstance'! Especially because of something Victoria and Jessie did! "Victoria, tell them! Tell them I'm not responsible!"
"Hm?"
"Were you even listening to what he just said!"
"Nope, got bored. I was just thinking about how I wish we'd have reported this Antique to Headquarters before we came."
"Since when did you care about permission?"
"We get paid more for sanctioned missions. Now I have to pay the mortgage on whatever we get from turning in this Antique combined with the money you have in your account."
"Hey wait I wasn't the one who-"
"Or we could go homeless. I'm sure those Antique lockers are in excellent condition for you."
I shut my mouth, releasing a sigh from my nose. Before, I probably would have saved the money and moved into Headquarters. But now that I'm in the basement, I have a decent place to sleep. I'll survive giving her something so I can keep it that way.
A bullet shatters the glass, drawing everyone's eyes to Jessie. The bullet lands somewhere in the crowd I can't see, and people scatter for the exits.
Then, Jessie launches another shot down, but this time the twinkle of light dives toward the only person down there who doesn't seem concerned about the previous gunshot. The woman Jessie is so worried about ices us with a cold stare while directing her gargantuan friend out of the ring.
"Huh." Jessie looks down at their revolver, examining it like it's their first time seeing it. Then, they slot another bullet into an empty chamber and startle me with another gunshot at the duo.
"What are you doing!?"
Jessie rotates the revolver, inspecting the weapon. "I meant to teleport next to her. Seems my revolver's not working."
"Performance issues," Victoria adds.
"It does that?" I ask.
"It's news to me too. I should've teleported with that last bullet."
While exiting the ring, Vilma stumbles down the steps, hitting her head on the soft floor. Rosa's attacks were more effective than we thought. She's struggling to walk.
The brown-haired woman comes behind her, saying something to the body, something that revives her from the dead. She jolts up to her feet, says something to the woman, and they continue their exit plan.
"Alright, go time guys! Can't let them get away," Jessie shouts.
The large man shifts a little in his seat, facing us directly. "I'm not going to forget this, Curators. I was prepared to retire to a peaceful life in the French countryside, tired of this Antique-laden underworld. But now I have a new purpose, to kill you three!"
An ominous speech. And one I don't think I'm fully deserving of since I'm just an observer! "We're going to leave them here!? After that threat! And what about Rosa!?"
"They don't have an Antique anymore, they're not our problem! And the club has doctors who take care of seriously injured combatants! She'll be fine!"
I could have been receiving medical aid this whole time? "Can they take a look at me?"
"Your hand looks fine. The bleeding looks like it's mostly stopped too. You took it like a pro!"
"I was shot! And my hand still stings!"
"You'll be fine. Bullet wounds build character," Victoria says. This is the thanks I get for taking a bullet for you?
"I've been keeping an eye on who went out the main doors, and neither Vilma or her boss have gone out yet! They're definitely still inside, we've got to find them!" Jessie blasts another bullet into the window and kicks the brittle path open. They leap from the cracked window, cape flowing down into the crowd.
"How am I supposed to follow you down there!?"
"Like this." Something pushes my butt through the window I'm looking over. My head falls through the hole, and my body follows it on the way down.
"Auuugghh!" The plastic seats below the viewing platform breaks my fall. Shit that hur-!
A figure descends from above, and I roll off the chair before it falls on me. Victoria, standing on the chair she just usurped me from, looks down on me. "Get up Ren. The Phantom's already on the move."
"Agh..." I slowly rock myself to my feet. It's been a long day... and I'm not running anymore.
But, knowing that disobeying an order could end with Victoria making my already dogged body sprint past its limit, I limp like a decomposing corpse after the group.