Queenpins 2: The Big Brass Ballad of Kronii Ouro

Mudskipper

I slept for the first time in two days as the storm battered Fort Whiskey and, probably, the rest of Winningson State. It wasn't peaceful, but it was sleep - and I'll take what I can get.

Working in this business for as long as I have, I get a sense of when things aren't in my favor. I'm good at running numbers, you see. Here in Winningson, my odds were already bad and I just picked a fight with the shadowy Queenpin of this damn prison.

But Mumei's odds were probably worse than mine - and she's still out there.

I stuck to my guns because of her.

If Winningson PD's running a manhunt on her, then my birdie didn't betray me. That was enough to give me confidence to not sell my soul to Enma. Now, I have to live with the consequences... or at least try to stay alive.

I have to be strong for Mumei. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to look her in the eye ever again.

With that in mind, I woke up the next morning to oddly clear skies, but I didn't let my guard down. If there's something I learned from robbing merchant marine boats on the high seas, it's that clear, calm skies that can be deceptive.

Just like Enma.

We were in the eye of the storm - and the worst was still to come.

I got up from my bed and looked up to the top bunk, finding it empty.

Damn, I could have used Botan as an ally... or at the very least, a friend. But the lioness got moved to Block C - the den of Enma's lackeys.

Perhaps I was right to doubt her.

Or I'm not seeing the whole picture here.

Right on cue, the metal doors of Block B swung open. That morning's cadre of guards marched in, clanking their batons against the cell bars.

"WAKE UP MAGGOTS! IT'S MINE-CRAFT DAY!" One of the guards yelled.

"We just had Mine-Craft yesterday!" A prisoner protested.

"SHADDAP, MAGGOT!" The guard shouted at the dissenter, "WARDEN'S ORDERS."

There it was again.

'Warden's Orders' they said.

Bullshit.

This is definitely something that Enma's got a hand in. The tail end of the storm was gonna come way sooner than I thought, and Enma made sure to tear off any shelter I'd have.

After all these years, you haven't changed, Enma. You're still a cold, calculating bitch.

It's why we got along back then.

The guards opened up my cell and I walked alone to the mess hall for breakfast. I spent every step I took lowering my expectations to rock bottom.

But then, when I got to the mess hall, the servings there surprised me. Scalloped potatoes that... goodness gracious, smelled and looked like potatoes! There were even sausages available - not a lot, but enough for the entire Block to get at least two.

I took my serving and sat alone at a table.

I ate the food and... I was surprised by the quality. It was decent.

Sure, it was nowhere near the steakhouse-grade City Striploin Steak that Enma made in her prison suite, but it was leagues ahead of the rubbery scrambled eggs and the half-assed spaghetti and meatballs from yesterday. I was almost tempted to take a second round of food when someone approached my table. Someone small. Someone I wanted to throw over the walls of Fort Whiskey.

Forewoman Bijou Koseki.

She set down her tray and started eating her meal without saying a word at first. Once she had a few forkfuls of grub, she pointed her fork at me and gave me a stone-faced stoic look.