L'italiano

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Warning: one of the characters doesn't always speak English. So I translated everything he says, right after he said it.

Academy City has multiple secrets. Some say 95% of the city is made of its so-called <<dark side>>. After all, science progresses faster if you take restrictions, such as morals, out of the picture.

To be fair, Academy City without its dark side wouldn't be much. It might keep the familiar Sci-Fi look and some discoveries, but people could only dream of the current esper power development curriculum.

On the other side, the dark side doesn't really require the <<light side>>. It does require a facade to show internationally, to prevent instant war declarations under the excuse of <<defending human rights>>, but it could work perfectly by itself.

With this I mean the dark side does not only consist of fights and criminals, but it is a whole hidden society itself. Some criminals can't just walk in a regular store and buy food or shoes without getting arrested. They need someone to give them those.
Someone tolerant of their actions, someone who wouldn't care about their past, present or future.

"So, wanna go see L'italiano?" Proposed Ratman, a regular Skill Out grunt, tired after the long day.

"Sure man, I love the guy. What do you need from him?"

"I need a new t-shirt, after that loser ripped mine earlier. And while we're at it, we might ask him to cook something for us."

"Sounds like a plan." Was Cave's answer, another Skill Out grunt.

While his real name was Franco, people were used to call him <<L'italiano>>, which is italian for <<The Italian>>, due to his rather peculiar way of talking.

The guy was actually a pretty nice person. He was not involved in any criminal affair, he just wanted to help out his fellow humans who were unlucky enough to be forced into crime. Or at least that was his way to look at it. If he asked about his customers' life, he'd probably know that some of them weren't <<forced>> into anything when they decided to become outlaws.
Regardless of that, everyone who met him liked him.

Ratman and Cave walked inside the shop, hidden in a dark alley.

"L'italiano! Are you there?"

The lights turned on, and a man in his thirties got in the room through a door that led in the back. His height was average, he wasn't particularly fit, but neither fat.

"Mamma mia ragazzi! Pizza pasta mafia?" (=Hi guys! What can I do for you?)

"We would like to check the shirts you sell, and while we're at it, we'd like something to eat."

"Ooh, spaghetti Berlusconi." (=Ooh, follow me in the back so I show you my selection.)

As he opened the door he came from, he revealed a wide room with a kitchen on the left and boxes on the right. It was all very clean.

L'italiano moved a few boxes until he found a specific one, labelled <<magliette>> (=t-shirts)

"Mamma mia." (=Here.)

Now, I'm not going to cover all the t-shirts. I'll just say they had various artworks of italian expressions.

Ratman chose one that read "Non so come si traduce questo" (=I don't know how to translate this) and wore it right away, over his previous one.

"So, what kinda food can you make us?" Cave's belly was growling, anticipating the tasty italian cuisine.

L'italiano raised his hands to the sky, making the typical gesture with the fingers all collected as to make a beak with each hand, and shouted: "PIZZA ORECCHIETTE PIADINA LASAGNE!" (=PIZZA ORECCHIETTE PIADINA LASAGNA!)

...

The two grunts received a piadina with tomatoes and mozzarella each, it was still steamy as L'italiano gave them to his customers. Each piadina was made kinda like a pizza, but folded. Also, the dough ingredients and the taste were completely different.

Technically speaking, piadina has the advantage over pizza, as it doesn't require cutlery at all. Plus, a variant of piadina called crescione is sealed after being folded, making it harder for one to drop its content. Oddly enough though, Franco was one of the very few italians who brought piadina abroad.

"Sventura a te Perry l'ornitorinco!" (=Enjoy your meal!)

As they were eating, Ratman came to a realisation. He stopped mid-bite with still some piadina in his mouth, and stared at the void.

Cave immediately noticed it: "What's up? You okay?"

Ratman removed the piadina from his mouth, one could clearly see his teeth pierced it. "Cave, do you speak italian?"

"No, I don't."

"Neither do I."

"But this makes no sense. How have we been able to talk to him this whole time?!"

In that moment, Franco got in the room again with a metal ladle in one hand and caressing his moustache with the other. He spoke.
"That would be my ability" (=anatra all'arancia ben cotta)

The two were in shock. It was the first time L'italiano actually spoke in English.

"I am a level 3. Regardless of what I say, people understand what I actually mean. It's quite a useful ability when talking about touchy subjects, but I just like to mess around all the time." (=Sono un livello 3. Perdinci, o sole mio sta in fronte a me. Ma non letteralmente, perchè mi bruceresti i capelli.).

"Wait, so you weren't actually speaking italian?"

"Well yes, but maybe the words I said don't actually translate to what you think." (=Invero, ciò che mantiene le stelle stabili è l'energia termica sviluppata per fusione nucleare."

After a brief pause, he continued: "But now that you know my secret... I am afraid I can't let you go so easily..." (=Sto iniziando a finire le idee... devo fare altre traduzioni insensate...)

"Oh, no! What are you gonna do to us?!" Whimpered Cave.

L'italiano answered with a deep voice: "La radiazione cosmica di fondo ha una temperatura media di circa tre kelvin." (=You'll have to help me clean this place before I go home.)

The three became friends and Cave decided to learn how to cook italian food. In the end everyone died. But don't worry, they all died around 70 years later. Lol I bet I gotcha for a second.

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I... I don't think I have any comment about this. It was just very, very weird. I had a lot of fun writing this though! Hope you did as well. And, if you speak italian, you might find it even funnier, who knows...

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