Legit Like the Yakuza


leonardo_icon.gif zain_icon.gif

Scene Title Legit Like the Yakuza
Synopsis Leonardo invites Zain over to help him cleanup, in a fashion.
Date February 23, 2019

Staten Island Trade Commission

The Staten Island Trade Commission is the headquarters for a smuggling ring based on Staten Island. It is a six-story brick warehouse with aged, copper-framed windows, situated on Arthur Kill. Floors one through four are utilized for storage, sorting, and holding purposes, while the fifth floor acts as a sparsely-furnished office where the business' bookkeeping, finances, and businesses deals are arranged. The sixth floor is Alister Black's private residence: a loft-style penthouse with an open layout that sometimes leaks in spite of his best efforts to repair the roof.

The property is surrounded by a ten foot tall razor wire fence on one side, and brackish water by the other, allowing boats to unload shipments directly onto the docks after they’ve been cleared for approach by the armed guards via radio.

2018 was a year that was both rough on a personal level, but also full of positive change on a business level. So 2019 was kicked off with the big reveal, the establishment that Alister Black is no more, that Leonardo Raphael Maxwell is reclaiming his name, and his reputation.

Zain is invited to the house, which is smelling a lot less like ocelot lately, but these things take time and lots of furniture replacing. Leonardo is in his white suit that he often likes to wear for Staten Island business deals, sitting back on the couch with the TV off, since Margaux isn't here to complain about it being off.

The simple premise for Zain's invitation: Huge plans that will be profitable for everyone involved.

Zain’s suit is grey, Italian wool, and pressed to perfection. When the invitation was extended, the Pakistani man was obviously intrigued. Profits are always nice and since he’d not seen Tania in a while, expensive trinkets are owed. In short: He’s doing this for her.

The last time he’d been in the warehouse, Zain had the unfortunate luck of meeting Eileen the Ocelot. Her temperament wasn’t that of a polite kitty, so his mood is obviously lifted to note that hide nor hair of the cat could be found. So, he’s all smiles and his hand extended to his host in greeting. “Mister Black, how lovely to see you again.”

"You can call me Mister Maxwell now. I trust you've seen my announcement. But that's a part of why I've invited you here." Leonardo reaches out to take the hand, then motions for a comfortable chair if the man so desires to take it.

"You see, in Japan, the Yakuza can do more or less whatever they like behind the scenes, because in the public eye, they have a rather legitimate business going on. Things like money laundering, I don't even think there are laws for it there." he considers, shaking his head. "I bring this up because my business is a tad too overt. I'm moving into the water business, and I've been increasingly trying to grow my food trade."

"Now that my real name is public, I want to take yet another step." Leonardo spreads his arms out, to indicate, well, everything. "I intend to remain in trade, but I want to begin a transition from weapons trading to food and necessary supplies trading. Once I complete this, I'll be able to more legitimately seek out investors, which means more money for both you and me. That is… if you're willing to help."

"I'm rather new to the criminal underworld, relatively speaking. I'm a corporate man. I need you to look into ways for me to both unload my stock and simultaneously replace it with more things like food, tools, repair supplies, and a whole host of things that I'll be giving you a comprehensive list for." he carefully explains, lowering his arms. "We need to both continue securing the water treatment plant, and accelerate repairs to pipelines and the water in houses that are still standing."

"I should be able to exchange…" he vaguely motions his hand around. "Free clean water and minimal pay in exchange for labor in the continued repair of the water treatment and delivery, and make a profit on food trade. For anyone who doesn't offer labor, they'll pay a reasonable sliding scale fee. I'll cut you in on all of this if you help me convert my business model."

From crime lord to utility mogul. Zain’s eyebrows shoot up ever so slightly as Leonardo speaks, his interest definitely perked to the man’s proposition. His lips twitch on one side as he listens rather than speaks, at least at first. It’s not a far cry from his regular, overly polite demeanor except for his words at the end of it all. They’re sincere.

“The auction house is at your disposal,” a beat, “for your product disposal.”

Crossing his legs loosely at the knee, he cups both of his hands over the knobby joint of the top one and twitches his foot lightly. Not because he is nervous, he has nothing to be nervous about, but in thought. “I’ll start spreading the word through the rookery and tin row that there’s work available in exchange for food, that will pique many an ear. You should expect applicants within the fortnight..”

"Food, water, showers. I'll make sure that all of these things are available." Leonardo stands up, heading over to his small bar to pour some sort of dark, mixed berry brandy. "Thirsty?" he asks, right before they both hear a piece of glass break from one of the windows. They'll see that there's a small circular hole. "What the hell?"

They hear some sort of weird, very quick crawling behind furniture, a loud thunk in his bedroom, and then more crawling as something starts leaving the room.

He draws a glock, watching along where he hears the sound. Then, from behind the couch, a small chromium spider robot quickly scurries out. It has a golden Desert Eagle strapped to its back, is starting to run towards the wall. "What the fuck is that? I'm sick of these robots! It has my gun! That's an art piece!" He fires at it, but the spider is far too small and moving far too quickly to actually hit all that well.

“Not rea—”

The tinkle of glass stops the dandy from going further. Instead, he slowly turns his head in the direction of the little footsteps. When the robot becomes visible, Zain lets out a sharp cry of surprise. It’s not completely masculine but when faced with a robot armed with a golden semi-automatic handgun, one tends toward the unexpected. At least this one does.

Instinctively, Zain lifts his feet from the carpet, as though a rat or mouse was scurrying about. There’s no way of telling whether it helps the situation or not but… then his eyes flicker in Leonardo’s direction. “Why are you being broken into by robots and why are they stealing useless weaponry?” Because golden guns? Not practical. They’re just flash.

"Do I look like I know why a robot is breaking into my house?!" Leonardo asks, raising his gun to fire again, but soon the robot is very quickly crawling up the wall, then right back out the hole again with the gun. This prompts him to pull his phone out, holding it up to his ear. "There's a small spider robot that just stole from me. Search the parameter, kill it, and get my gun back!"

"I'm very sick of robots. One cracked my ribs recently, which I'm still not entirely recovered from." Speaking back into the phone, he adds, "And send someone up here to fix a window."

Hanging up, he turns his attention back to Zain. "Well, I'm sure we've gotten most of our business out of the way. You can stay for a drink if you like, I need to make sure no one steals while they're fixing my window, since my sister is absent."

Well this is just getting a little bit dangerous. There are armed robots, an armed future business partner, and well.. that’s all for now but those two things are bad enough. “H-how often do these robots frequent your premises?” Zain’s voice hitches a little but after a deep clearing, it comes out as smooth as it was before. “It’s a concern, because I don’t want them on mine.”

He wouldn’t want to have to move more than he usually does. It’s bad for morale.

Zain does pour himself something small. One finger of amber liquid, after taking a deep inhale from the decanter, a well aged scotch. “However did you manage to get this year?” He asks, casual as can be. After all the shooting is finished. Now all that’s left is the cleanup.

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