Lenz paused for a moment, his brow furrowing as he processed Jackie's words. "Wait… do you mean all this time Furio was from nobility?"
Jackie shrugged, his tone casual but his eyes serious. "Seems like it."
Lenz let out a short, disbelieving laugh, still reeling from the revelation. "And you guys all hid this away from me?"
Jackie raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting to mild surprise. "Well, I personally thought Paulie told you. Which is… interesting, now that I think about it. He's usually the one who can't keep a secret."
Lenz's smile faded slightly, his curiosity piqued. "Yeah, Paulie never mentioned this to me. Ever. What's that about?"
Jackie hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment before he met Lenz's eyes again. "Well, after what happened that night… I think it was for the best."
Lenz leaned forward, his smirk returning. "Okay, can you stop being so cryptic? Just tell me what happened already. Maybe I can use it against him in the future," he said, half-joking but with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
Jackie's expression darkened, his voice low and cautious. "I don't think that's a good idea, Lenz."
Lenz waved a hand dismissively, his tone light but insistent. "Come on, Jackie. Spill it. What's the big deal?"
Jackie sighed, leaning back against the wall as he made himself comfortable. "Guess we've got enough time," he said, his tone resigned but tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "It all started back when Furio was 16. He was already a delinquent back then.
----
The marketplace was bustling, the air filled with the chatter of vendors and the scent of fresh produce. Ramsey, his hands stuffed in his pockets, strolled past the long line of customers waiting at a fruit vendor's stall. Without a second thought, he skipped to the front, earning glares and muttered complaints from the crowd. He ignored them, his attention fixed on the vendor.
"Hey!" Ramsey called out, holding up an apple with a worm wriggling out of its rotten core. "I paid for this apple, and look at it!"
The vendor, a middle-aged man with a weathered face, squinted at the fruit. "Young man," he said, his voice tinged with irritation, "I don't know where you got that, but we don't sell apples like that here."
Ramsey smirked, his tone dripping with mock innocence. "Well, you owe me one, then."
The vendor's face reddened, but before he could argue, Ramsey turned to the crowd, holding up the apple for everyone to see. "Can you believe this? I paid good money for this!" The crowd murmured, some nodding in sympathy, others rolling their eyes at the spectacle.
The vendor sighed, clearly wanting to end the scene as quickly as possible. "Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "Wait here. I'll get you another one." He turned and disappeared into the back of his shop.
As soon as the vendor was out of sight, Ramsey glanced over his shoulder and gave a subtle nod. That was the signal. Furio, who had been lurking nearby, darted forward. He moved quickly, his movements sharp and precise, as he grabbed two boxes of fresh fruits from the stall. The crowd noticed too late, their shouts of alarm rising as Furio bolted down the street, the boxes tucked under his arms.
The vendor rushed back out, his face pale as he realized what had happened. "Thieves!" he shouted, but it was no use. Furio was already gone, disappearing into the maze of alleys.
Meanwhile, Ramsey, still standing at the stall, casually reached for a basket of fresh berries. He tucked it under his arm and walked away, blending into the crowd as if nothing had happened. The vendor cursed under his breath, but there was nothing he could do. The two had pulled it off flawlessly.
After slipping away from the chaos of the marketplace, Furio and Ramsey met in a narrow alley, their breaths coming in quick, excited gasps. Furio set the stolen boxes of fruit down, his eyes gleaming as he surveyed their haul. "Shit! Look at all of this," he said, his voice brimming with excitement. "John's definitely going to be pleased."
Ramsey leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and a smirk playing on his lips. "It's always you trying to please John," he said, his tone teasing but with an edge of seriousness. "But let's be real, Furio. John's far out of your reach."
Furio's grin faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, his determination shining through. "Yeah, I know. He's the boss of the most feared delinquent group in the town. But still… no matter what it takes, I need him to notice me. I need him to see what I can do."
Ramsey's smirk softened into a genuine smile. "Our time will come, Furio," he said, his voice low but filled with conviction. "Not just to impress John, but to change this town. To change the whole damn country."
Furio laughed, his mood lifting as he slung an arm around Ramsey's neck, pulling him into a rough, playful hug. "Still dreaming big as always, huh?"
Ramsey rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his grin. "Okay, okay, I get it. Stop," he said, shoving Furio off with a laugh. Then, his expression turned serious again. "Anyway, it's time to bring the goods to the inn. That's where we're meeting him."
Furio raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "The inn? I didn't think they made that much money."
Ramsey chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, obviously not *inside* the inn. But the rooftop—there's a big opening up there. It's the perfect spot."
Furio's eyes lit up, his earlier excitement returning. "Lead the way, then. Let's not keep John waiting."
They arrived at the rooftop, the sun casting long shadows across the uneven stone surface. There he was—John, sitting at a small table with his friends Joe, Michael, and Henry. They were hunched over a board game, their laughter echoing across the rooftop. But as soon as John spotted Furio and Ramsey, he stood up, his charismatic smile lighting up his face.
"Well, look who it is!" John's voice was smooth and charming, as always. His stolen gold necklace glinted in the sunlight, a symbol of his status. At 19, he was three years older than the rest of them, and it showed in the way he carried himself—like a king among boys. "It's Ramsey boy! And with your best friend, huh? What've you got for me this time? Golden balls, I hope!" He laughed loudly, his deep voice booming across the rooftop. His group joined in, their laughter filling the air.
Furio chuckled nervously, trying to match John's energy. "Unfortunately, we only have our balls to offer," he said, earning another round of laughter from the group.
John walked over to the boxes of stolen fruit, his movements slow and deliberate. He opened one, inspecting the contents with a critical eye. After a moment, he nodded approvingly. "Hmmm, this is good stuff. We can probably sell this for twice the original price."
Henry, leaning against the wall in the back, smirked. "Or we can just feed it to Joe's fat ass," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. The group erupted into laughter again—all except John.
The air grew heavy as John's smile faded. He straightened up slowly, his eyes narrowing as he turned to Henry. "Boss?" Henry said, his voice faltering as he realized he'd crossed a line.
In a flash, John moved. He grabbed Henry by the back of his head and slammed his face into the table with a force that made the entire structure shake. Henry groaned, trying to lift his head, but John pinned him down, his grip unrelenting. "I might allow jokes," John said, his voice low and dangerous, "but disrespecting our family is way above the line, Henry. Get it into your fucking head."
He pulled Henry's head back and punched him hard in the face, the sound of knuckles meeting flesh echoing across the rooftop. Henry gasped, blood trickling from his nose as he managed to choke out the words, "I'm sorry."
John stared at him for a moment longer, his chest heaving with anger, before finally releasing him. Henry slumped to the ground, clutching his face as the rest of the group watched in stunned silence. John straightened his jacket, his calm demeanor returning as if nothing had happened. "Now," he said, turning back to Furio and Ramsey, "let's talk business."
Joe nervously scrambled to set the table back in place, his hands trembling as he avoided eye contact with John. Michael, meanwhile, crouched beside Henry, helping him sit up and checking his injuries. The tension in the air was thick, but John seemed unfazed, his charismatic smile returning as if nothing had happened.
Ramsey and Furio took their seats at the table, their expressions a mix of awe and nervousness. John leaned back in his chair, his gold necklace catching the sunlight as he spoke. "Now!" he said, his voice commanding attention. "As you guys know, your stealing has greatly increased our profits. More guys are interested in joining our gang because of you. So, I owe you a thank you."
Ramsey shook his head quickly, his tone humble. "No, there's no need. We just—"
Furio cut him off, his voice brimming with admiration. "We were greatly inspired by you, Mister Lupper. The things you do to change this town… it's an honor just to talk to you."
John paused, his sharp eyes studying Furio for a moment before a slow smile spread across his face. "I greatly appreciate that," he said, his voice warm but still carrying an edge of authority. "That's why I've decided to offer you two a position in our gang." He spread his arms wide, as if welcoming them into a new world.
Furio's eyes sparkled, his heart racing with excitement. This was beyond anything he had ever imagined, even in his wildest dreams. Without hesitation, he blurted out, "We accept! And we swear to be helpful to you in any way we can!"
Ramsey glanced at Furio, his expression a mix of surprise and unease, but he didn't argue. Instead, he nodded slowly, his voice steady. "We're in."
John's smile widened, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Good. Welcome to the family."
---
The soft light of the moon filtered through the window of Furio and Ramsey's room in the orphanage, casting a pale glow over the small, cluttered space. Ramsey sat in a rickety wooden chair, a random book open in his hands. He had been reading for hours, but his mind was elsewhere. Finally, he closed the book with a soft *thud* and turned to Furio, who was lying on his bed, trying to sleep.
"Are you sure about this?" Ramsey asked, his voice low but filled with concern.
Furio opened one eye, glancing at Ramsey. "Sure about what?" he mumbled, his tone groggy.
"You know… about joining John's crew," Ramsey said, his brow furrowing. "The guy's kind of unstable, if you ask me."
Furio sat up, running a hand through his messy hair. "It's not him that I'm trying to follow, Ramsey," he said, his voice firm. "It's his ideologies. His sense of justice. That's what I want to follow. Let me be clear on that."
Ramsey leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "I get that, but… it's been about a week, and you've been hanging out with him a lot. I've heard from the other guys that he really likes you. Says you've been a great help."
Furio smiled, a hint of pride in his expression. "Yeah, we've been getting along lately. He's not as bad as people say, you know. He's got a vision, Ramsey. A way to change things."
Furio stood up, stretching his arms above his head. "C'mon, enough reading. He's expecting us. Let's go."
Furio and Ramsey arrived at the alleyway, the dim glow of candlelight illuminating the hidden spot where John and his crew often gathered. It was their sanctuary, a place where they could drink, scheme, and avoid prying eyes. Ramsey's sharp eyes took in the scene—the flickering candles on the large wooden table in the center, the boxes of alcohol stacked nearby, and John's crew lounging around, their laughter echoing off the stone walls.
Furio grinned, his voice loud and full of energy as he called out, "Quite the party, huh?"
John turned, his charismatic smile lighting up his face as he welcomed them in. "Glad you could make it," he said, his tone warm but carrying an edge of authority. Michael, ever the quiet enforcer, handed Furio and Ramsey each a bottle of alcohol. Furio took a swig, his eyes widening in appreciation. "Woah, good stuff!"
John chuckled, gesturing to the table. "Glad you like it. Please, have a seat."
As everyone settled around the table, John stood up, his presence commanding immediate silence. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across his face as he spoke. "As you all know, I invited you guys here tonight for more than just a party. Tonight… I will choose my right-hand man."
A murmur of excitement and curiosity rippled through the group. Joe and Henry exchanged glances, their eyes darting to Michael, the strongest and most experienced member of the crew. Surely, he would be the obvious choice.
John took another sip from his bottle, his gaze sweeping over the group. "As you all know, money and fame aren't what's important right now. What's important is manpower and loyalty. That's what I've been focusing on these past few months." He paused, his eyes landing on Furio. "And there's one person who's helped me greatly in gathering fame and profit these last few days. So, I said to myself, what better way to thank him than to make him my right-hand man?"
The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Joe and Henry's eyes widened in disbelief, while Michael's expression remained unreadable. John's voice rose, filled with conviction. "Boys! Tonight, I will make Furio the right-hand man of the Lupper family!"
Furio's heart raced, his eyes wide with shock and pride.
Furio's eyes widened, his heart pounding in his chest. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed, his voice a mix of disbelief and excitement. "I mean… I don't know what to say right now."
John stepped closer, his charismatic smile never wavering. He grabbed Furio's hand and pulled it up high, a symbolic gesture of his new position. The crew erupted into cheers and whistles, though some—like Joe and Henry—exchanged uneasy glances. Michael's expression remained stoic, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold.
"I expect great things from you, Furio," John said, his voice low but filled with authority. His eyes locked onto Furio's, the weight of his words settling heavily on the young man's shoulders.
Furio nodded, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside him. "I'll make sure you won't be disappointed."
---
A week had passed, and things were looking better than ever for Furio. His natural talent for stealing valuables had earned him a reputation on the streets. He was feared by other kids and respected by John's crew. His name was whispered in awe and caution, and he reveled in the power it brought him.
One day, after successfully stealing a horse from a noble—a feat that even impressed John—Furio made his way to the inn's rooftop, eager to show off his latest prize. But as he climbed the ladder and stepped onto the rooftop, his excitement quickly turned to confusion.
The place was empty.
No candles flickered on the table. No laughter echoed through the air. No sign of John or the crew. The rooftop, usually alive with activity, was eerily silent. Furio's heart began to race as he scanned the area, his mind racing with questions.
"Where is everyone?" he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with unease. He walked over to the table, running his hand over the smooth wood. The remnants of a half-finished drink sat abandoned, the liquid long since gone stale.
Something was wrong. Furio could feel it in his gut.
Furio quickly mounted his stolen horse, his heart racing as he sped toward the alley. The streets blurred around him, his mind filled with a mix of excitement and unease. When he arrived, he spotted his friends and Ramsey leaning against the wall, their faces tense and their eyes fixed on something in the center of the alley.
Furio's initial excitement faded as he noticed the grim expressions on their faces. He dismounted and pushed through the group, his eyes widening as he saw what they were staring at.
Henry was strapped to a chair, his mouth gagged with a cloth. His eyes were wide with fear, and he was struggling against the ropes, trying to say something, but no sound came out. Furio's stomach churned as he turned to John, who was sitting casually on a crate, a drink in his hand.
"John!" Furio called out, his voice sharp with confusion. "What is going on here?"
John looked up, his expression calm but his eyes cold. "Oh, it's you," he said, his tone almost casual. "I was going to tell Ramsey to find you, but I guess it's not needed now."
Furio glanced at Michael and Joe, who were leaning against the wall, their faces pale and their bodies drenched in sweat, as if they had been running for hours. His unease grew as he turned back to John. "I managed to steal an opera horse," Furio said, trying to lighten the mood. "You know, one of those rare breeds."
John stood up, patting Furio on the shoulder. "That's good, Furio. Really good." His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that made Furio's skin crawl.
John took a sip from his drink, his eyes shifting to Henry. "Henry here," he said, his tone darkening.
"has betrayed us all."