CODE NAME: ORIHARA IZAYA
Summary: For Hachimenroppi, crime and violence were nothing new, but this time he picked a fight with the wrong people. Forced to atone, Roppi immerses in the darkness shrouding the name Orihara Izaya and those who came before him.
Prologue: Death of a Fool
The bar was a rather dim and menacing place. All of mankind's worst could be found there, murderers, arsonists, pedophiles, kidnappers, mad scientist, runaway convicts, etc. Of course, the society had shunned and abandoned these people but by their choice. There were only few there who didn't choose to be there.
"You think you're so high and mighty!"
Hachimenroppi had chosen to take up a spot in that horrible place. His seat gave him a wonderful view of the disgusting and corrupted bargains and deals of these low lives. But at least these low lives were honest. Their honesty in their trade made them easier for Hachimenroppi to accept than the humans in the light, forever concealing their true natures.
"Dammit you bastard, look me in the eye and say it to my face!"
This bar was a rather infamous establishment. Anyone from the underground who was someone had a place here. As the laws of the underground dictated, these 'seats' must be taken by force or by cunning. The regulars had accepted him when he threw out the last man, a cruel mercenary, and took his place. Now and again, he would be challenged, as would everyone in this damned establishment.
"Hah! I bet you're too scared!"
At this, some regulars crackled but Hachimenroppi didn't even bother to respond. He continued observing a deal between two well-known yakuza executives. This was an important deal, he could tell. It would be rather idiotic to miss such an important transaction to deal with a greenhorn.
"Look at me you BASTARD!"
The fool grabbed Hachimenroppi's hand and all the wheezing and smirking stopped. All the unoccupied regulars began fiddling with whatever trinkets they had at hand and those with deals quietly moved it into the back. The two yakuza executives included.
"This is why I hate humans," he began. The regulars still in the room knew the man was now livid. "The deceit, the corruption, the lies and the complete lack of manners!"
And it was over in a moment.
Before the fool could even react, the knife had sunk deep into his chest. Dead in mere seconds. The body fell with a dull thump. Some of the more shameless ones walked up to the body and began digging into the pockets. Others waiting until the body was dragged outside.
"Roppi-san, that was rather rude of you," one of the yakuza executives commented, sliding into the now empty seat—the usual regular was stripping the dead body outside—next to him. "Spying on our transactions."
"Shiki-san, you know as well as I do," Hachimenroppi retorted. "This is why I'm here. To watch humans create their own problems and destroy themselves."
"That is a rather cruel hobby you have," Shiki responded. "But I think you might want to get out of this place for a while."
"…"
"That man you just killed was a undercover Scarf," the executive said smoothly, sliding out the dead man's ID—when did he take that?—stamped with a large circle and smooth script: Dollars.
"Shit," was Hachimenroppi's only response.
Ikebukuro used to be a place where the worst of the worst was dumped and abandoned by the rest of the world. Within this city, semi-normal communities formed and gangs dedicated to justice formed.
One that came to play years ago was the Dollars. No one knows who the founder was, but they anonymously managed to create a government above all this chaos. And that might have been the reason why they succeeded. No one knew if their friends or next-door neighbors were actually part of the Dollars. No one knew whether it was safe to speak against these Dollars or not.
It seemed strange that a government was set up around such ambiguous rules, but those who immersed their whole lives in the illegal and dirty work of others knew why. Those who had decided to reform and gave up their ways to support this new order wouldn't know of the truth behind their new governments power, having decided to trust it blindly. But others, like the regulars in the bar Hachimenroppi occupied, knew.
Those that dared to resist or oppose, harm or kill, dissent or disagree with the Dollars were destroyed, annihilated or wiped off the face of the earth by someone within the Dollars. A man who was said to be like a prophet. He knew everything they said; all the coming and goings of this city.
"Think about your darkest dirtiest secret that you wouldn't want anyone to know. Well, HE SAW YOU DO IT!" began the underworld's slogan for this man.
No one knows what his real name is, or if this were his real name, but mankind's worst would whisper this name in the deepest shadows and between dead bodies:
Orihara Izaya.
A/N: I actual got this idea off a movie. It's not based on the movie, but just one small part of it made my mind tick at like 1 AM. Oh, props to whoever realizes where the Izaya's 'underworld slogan' comes from. (Hint: Theater of the Absurd)
I'm working on several projects at the same time so I don't think I'm going to get to this until much later, but I suppose here's a preview for my summer works.