@stanislawkowalski !!
It was not very much in his habit to attend these meetings… If meeting was the proper term to explain what was going on. Rarely would he partake in discussions, bored with the useless chat, the egos in the room, and more importantly the lack of actions. He has always preferred the field anyway. He was a man born with a gun extending his digits, and he had the sensation that anything could actually tickle his need to take the cannon out and threaten whoever might think it was a good idea to get under his skin.
Yet, curiosity animated him too. He had heard about this fellow before, Nastka, but he had never encountered him. Courtesy of the underground world, they have evolved apart for many reasons. You wouldn’t put two wolves in the same enclosure ; they would try to eat the other one alive. Those were the inner rules of the hidden mobsters. Colliding together meant having a winner and a loser, and right now Kaizen wouldn’t ever be pictured as a surrender.
Stairs going down, a metal door. A private club with illegal bets and other poker nights somewhere downtown. Some dirty cash for lowly gangsters and their wide pockets, but also the perfect cover for whoever wanted to have a chat. He hoped there weren’t too many prying ears tonight ; he would have to cut them right after the meeting if tongues felt the urge to spill secrets they shouldn’t talk about. Knocking on the door, his face was well-known enough for the gatekeeper not to ask for a password.
Rather, the atmosphere was quite tense right now. When he walked inside, murmurs and side looks would escort the few authorized card tables, but Kaizen was already moving, heading to the back of the room, behind red velvet curtains and a wooden door.
“Am I late?” He asked when he noticed that Nastka was already there. It was annoying, but it wouldn't show on his features. He grabbed the handle of the door, and he locked it behind his back. Whatever might be the turn of their discussion, if blood was spilled, then it would be their private matter. He wouldn’t really care about being late or not, but he didn’t like the undermining of it. He wouldn’t sit down right away either, preferring to lean against a piece of furniture and lighten a cigarette with his silver zippo.
“Mmh…” He peered at him, like an animal trying to cease the danger of another one. “Never thought we would be talking one day.”
