To whom it may concern:
If you are reading this, I’m dead. If I’m not, you shouldn’t be reading this. But if I am dead, it’s probably some horrible bloody end. And It’s probably Dominic Palumbo’s doing.
It was a slow night at the shop, so I called it quits early. I hadn’t had a chance to pick up more whiskey after that jackass decided he liked it better than anesthetic for god damned heart surgery. What a fool. No whiskey in the shop, so I went down to Lucky’s. Wallace Zhang‘s not a bad kid, and its a good place not to be bothered. Everyone in there’s looking to get away from one thing or another.
I sat there sinking back drinks with Wally. That boy knows how to hold his liquor. He would knock one back and then go pour five more drinks for customers, never spilling a drop. The TV’s were on various channels like usual. I don’t often pay attention to the sports or the news, but all at once every channel was playing the same thing. An Emergency Broadcast of a mushroom cloud down in the middle of the city.
Everyone was glued to the TV. Even this mangy group of thugs and lowlifes were horrified by the footage. Wally got a call and I couldn’t help but overhear him talking to Dominic. It was obvious that he was freaking out. I figured the Santini’s must have something to do with the blast, but it wasn’t until I heard him mention the Yakuza that I realized the I had something to do with the blast.
Drunk as I was, it dawned on me that the explosion must have been that thing I put in Ryu Arakida‘s chest. That damned fool. I knew it wasn’t anything good but I didn’t think he was this stupid. I should have asked more questions. I should have known better. I shouldn’t have been so damn greedy. Now all those people are dead and soon the Santinis will be after me, if they aren’t already.
I was piss drunk, but I knew the Santini thug at the bar was eyeing me. He must have gotten word from his bosses that they were looking for me. I headed towards the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I opened the window and thought about pulling myself through. But I was too old and too drunk to be able to pull that off. So instead I hid, trying to catch whoever came through the door by surprise. I guess my drunken hiding wasn’t as good as I thought, because soon the thug busted in the door and saw me straight away. He pulled me out into the street and threw me down in front of Don Vince Santini himself.
The Don was pissed. He was shouting at me, blaming me for what had happened. I tried to explain myself. I tossed my gun down on the ground so he knew I meant no harm, but he wasn’t having it. Two of his men grabbed me and yanked my pants down. The Don told them to get pliers and rip my balls off.
At that moment, two modded Yakuza cars came peeling around the corner, already shooting. The Santinis returned fire and I threw myself to the ground, trying not to catch a bullet. As I crawled out of the fray I felt a blast and felt heat on my face. The Yakuza hot rods blew up one after another. Those damn cars were never meant to run on gas. I guess they couldn’t take a few bullets.
After all the shooting and the explosions, almost everyone in the street was flat on the ground. I thought I would have a chance to get away, but the Don pulled me up by my collar. He pointed a gun in my face, but he looked like he was barely able to stay upright. He was losing more blood by the second and couldn’t afford to lose much more.
He was furious, but I was able to convince him to let me patch him up, as I tried my damnedest to get on his good side, if only to dodge one bullet. I managed to stop the bleeding and get him stable, but as soon as I did, Dominic came around the corner into the alley and shot the Don right in his god damned face.