Bern's Book
-Introduction-
In the suspicious suburbs of Atra City, Nightfall struck the city. Hundreds of panicked citizens closed their windows and locked their doors, ushering children and shouting warnings across the street and on their phones. They had a right to be scared. Nightfall was the Riservato's time. Countless amounts of shadowy figures flooded out into the streets, making quick work of the men, women, and even children in the streets. Their clothes, organs, limbs, and material possessions were ghosted away by nimble and experienced fingers, soon to be put up for sale in the black markets. Many tried to fight back, taking out maybe one or two of the Riservato members, but falling to the seemingly infinite hordes…except for one…
In the center of several abandoned mobile food carts, their owners hiding or dead before their time, stood an average sized boy, seemingly about 5 foot 4, the boy was lightly built, skipping on his feet and seemingly floating on the air, taking out every Riservato that tried to attack. His sandals were strapless, and taped to his dirty feet, his chocolate-skin blending with the splotches of strange colored dirt across his body. He had a large visor, blocking any facial features that could be seen. The visor itself was dark-grey, with silver lining and a healthy sheen. It seemed to be newly bought…or stolen. He wore no shirt, his body shining under the moonlight and reflections of the mobile food carts, and his cargo pants were tattered and ripped in every spot but above the knees.
A large Riservato, most probably the leader, materialized from the crowd, his crooked teeth somehow forming a broken smile. He held out both his hands as two pathetic looking children with fearful looks on their faces slid on gold-plated brass knuckles. The man struck out and most probably killed the two children, his chuckle sounding like a cross between a dying cat and a wheezing old man, as he began his slow, lumbering approach. The boy suddenly looked drunk, his body moving back and forth, as he stumbled towards the Riservato leader…
Bern woke up with a gasp of pain.
"Oh, it was just a dream…" he sighed, rubbing his left jaw where that giant landed a hit, leaving a nasty scar running from the middle of his cheek to the bottom of his jaw. He moved his mouth in a circular yawning motion, cracking the bones and hopping off his makeshift bed of stolen feathers from a merchant several moons ago. He went through his daily exercises, a couple hundred push-ups, sit-ups, chin-ups, and a few hits on his, though severely dented, steel punching bag, adding to the already large numbers of dents spread throughout the toy.
"Eh, might as well go please the crowd…" Bern muttered, throwing on a solid black t-shirt, his favorite cargo pants, now sewed over hundreds of times, a heavy winter coat with lynx fur, and his classic attachment, his solid dark-grey visor, now with a few cracks gained from a few brawls, kicked open his door, and walked out, hands deep inside of his pockets.
"I got you now!!" a female voice shouted from above.
"Ugh, you annoying brat!" Bern grunted as his foot made contact with the assaulter's left leg, making her spin in midair.
"Gah!" the assaulter shouted, falling, her shirt ripping through a sharp nail in the wooden makeshift walls.
"Jeez Aqsa… Go put on another shirt girl!" Bern growled, covering his eyes from the shameful sight.
Aqsa Munira squealed, screaming at him and calling him a peeping tom.
"You aimed that kick just so my shirt would rip and you could stare you pervert!" Aqsa squealed loudly, covering herself and running to her room two doors down from Bern's.
"How am I a pervert…you're the one with the ideas…" Bern muttered, tilting down his visor to hide the blush starting to form on his cheeks. "Well than, this little event must have made the crowd a bit less patient with me…" he chuckled, dashing down the stairs toward what he thought would be an impatient crowd…
"Ah, it's about time Bern!" Samantha shouted cheerfully, you've kept the guys waiting. We're almost at Nightfall" she murmured, suddenly concentrated at polishing the bar tables and cleaning everything.
"It's all good Sammy," Bern shouted from across the room, "you'll get used to my totally awesome name idea for the gang!" He started to walk towards the door, where the sound of metal clanged.
"Right…right…your idea of Fluff is the most fearful gang name I could EVER think of…" Samantha thought to herself sarcastically.
"Bern in the house!" Bern shouted the second he opened the door. It seemed as if time froze. The men were busy watching two men fight each other with steel daggers, until Bern barged in yelling. The men immediately started stammering excuses here and there…
"I…erm…I tried to stop them boss, I really did…it's just that everyone else loves gambling too much…and…" Jaylin stammered.
"Right. I have a single question for you guys!" Bern roared fiercely, replacing all sounds in the meeting room with the echo of his powerful bass voice. "…why wasn't I informed of this! You know I love to gamble!!" Bern shouted, his face lighting up the tension within the room.
"Right than! Luffwatte, Roger, continue your duel!" Jaylin shouted, filled with vim and vigor from Bern's sudden change in mood.
"My money's on Luffy!!!" someone in the crowd shouted.
"Ha! Your about to lose all that cash than! Come on Roger, shank that boy!" someone else retorted.
Random catcalls, whistling, cheering, and beer bottle flew all around, some almost hitting the performers.
"Oy! Halt them beer bottlesh!" Roger shouted, obviously intoxicated, swaying precariously near the edge.
"Pay attention brat!" Luffwatte shouted, bring his dagger down in a wide arc.
"Bingo!" the crowd shouted, suspecting that to be the final blow.
Roger's eyes suddenly became sharp, piercing through the very being of Luffwatte, as he leapt over the dagger's wide arc, did a mid-air flip, and did a double-hammer kick aimed directly at the vital points of Luffy. Luffy shot back, his arms raising up to take the full force of the kicks, when suddenly Roger fell…asleep.
"You idiot!!"
"Wake up!"
"Oy! This is what you get for drinking"
Random voices in the crowd began to boo and jeer, as Bern rose up on the stage sighing and shaking his head, struggling not to laugh. Roger's head was leaning off of the stage, his drool going into his nose. Suddenly, he shot up snorting, of course, trying to get the saliva out of this nose. This created a loud laugh among the men as they cheered for the fight to start anew.
"People. What were the requirements for this bet again?" Bern asked quietly.
"Um, one of them would be struck down sir!" a man, nay, a boy said quietly. He seemed to be under the age of 21, most likely a victim from the Nightfall Hour…
"Exactly. And neither of them were struck down, which is what I bet all my money for, and it's almost Nightfall Hour." Bern continued, "which, of course, means I get my 3 million from all of you guys and that we should start getting prepared." He was replied with loud groans which were cut short with a glare. Bern slung back his visor and looked up, through the skylight, watching as the sun was pushed down, and Nightfall approached…