Gang-Star

Chapter 3

Shining Justice

In the heart of Italy stood a mansion, it was large and grand. It has a beautiful garden that cover the premises and a fountain in front of the driveway. It's luxurious interior was gorgeous with crystal chandeliers, sculptures that could rival Michael Angelo's work, and decors that could be worth thousands of dollars.

It was a house fit for a king.

And a king he was, Giorno Giovanna. This was the residence and headquarters of the Godfather himself.

Currently, he's in his study working away his hours with mountains of paperwork's. Inside his study were couches for meetings, bookshelves filled to the brim with all sorts of knowledge and plants were accenting the brown wallpapers nicely.

He wasn't the only one inside, for a tortoise sat by a dresser and happily munching away on cabbages. A transparent figure of a man with a white tower for a hair looked outside the window on top of a key.

It was peaceful, the cool breeze would sometimes blow inside the room, and the rhythm of scribbles and the shuffling of papers were almost therapeutic. Well, for the man who resides in the turtle anyways.

Giorno was mindlessly, almost robotic, signing his name away on the sheets. His mind wouldn't even process the letters on the papers, he should probably be carefully reading them.

But then everyday was almost a repetitive day: wake up, have breakfast with Mista and Polnareff, do paperwork, eat lunch in his study, more paperwork, have dinner with Mista and Polnareff and last but not the least. More. Paperwork.

He would occasionally have meetings with important figures. But for the most part Mista and Polnareff were the ones to deal with meetings, most of which concerns about other gang-related activities and desperate CEO's requesting for their protection.

Giorno stopped and placed down his pen. He leaned back in his chair and stare at the ceiling silently. The past months were unsettling peaceful. There were no assassination attempts, no gangs raising against Passione and the Capos and Soldiers were doing their job flawlessly.

There must be some kind of catch to this, right?

The door suddenly opens and in Mista came with a folder on his hand. Along with him were six tiny squeaky elves who were bantering and demanding for food. Mista has his eyebrows slightly furrowed in annoyance but kept quiet. Giorno pursed his lips, when will he learn to knock?

"Oi, Giorno. We seem to have a problem."

Perhaps I spoke too soon. Giorno thought as he sat up properly. Mista placed the folder on his desk while he crossed his arms glaring holes on the piece of paper. Giorno wordlessly opened the folder to see films of photos along with papers underneath. He picked one up to see a man laying in a pool of blood with an arm cleanly severed off from it's sockets and his head was turned in a unnatural angle.

"A full team's been wiped out after escorting a businessman. The capo said that the businessman was set to leave the country and requested them for help with a promise of a million dollars. They were attacked on the train headed to the airport." Mista briefed Giorno and picked up a photo, "the investigation team said that a total of 4 people attacked. They left no concrete evidence only a rose and some tarot card. It's safe to assume they're stand users."

He then placed the photo down and Giorno picked it up. It was a photo of an old business man with bruises around his body and an angry violet was painted around his neck. He died of strangulation, they didn't deliver a swift blow that could instantly kill him. But rather they decided to kill him slowly and beaten to a pulp. Must have a grudge or they're milking out information before strangling him.

"There were also some missing items: his suitcases and a pin of ours."

Giorno then picked up the papers underneath and skimmed through the report. His eyebrows furrows deeper and deeper at each passing words.

"Mista, mind if you move me to the desk?" Polnareff finally spoke up. Mista walked over to Polnareff and picked up the tortoise.

"Damn what have you been eating? You're getting heavy." Mista complained before placing him down in the desk.

Polnareff ignored him and immediately walked over to the papers. He stopped in his track as soon as he passed by a certain photo. It was the said rose and tarot card. He immediately recognize the tarot card, faintly remembering Avdol shuffling his tarot cards and laying them all down.

"I've always been intrigued by tarot cards. Avdol, what does this one mean?" Kakyoin pointed at a random card.

It was 11

"Ah, this is Justice. It means triumph of the deserving side in law. It could also mean-"

"Unfairness, lack of accountability and dishonesty..."

"Did you say something Polnareff?" Giorno asked putting down the papers he was reading to properly address Polnareff.

Blinking himself back to reality he meet Giorno's eyes. They wouldn't leave a tarot and a rose for no reason would they?

"It's nothing." Polnareff stated. The turtle then turned towards Mista who was picking his ear with his pinky. "Mista, are you free tomorrow?"

Mista hummed and picked his fingernails, his nose scrunching in disgust at the amount of earwax, "Well, in the morning I have to talk to someone and pick up some packages. I should be free in the afternoon. Do you want to go somewhere?"

"Yes, actually. I want to go to the crime scene." Polnareff said. Turning to Giorno he craned his neck up to meet his eyes. "That is, if Giorno permits it."

"Do what you must," with a firm nod he turned back to the papers at hand.

There has to be a hidden meaning to this.