(AN: I freakin' love this series. It would only be a matter of time before I wrote a fanfiction about it. Baccano! has to be one--if not my absolute--favorite animes of all time. This series needs moar love. Also, I'm in love with the way they name the episode titles. Fanfiction didn't let me fit in the whole title!! :x)

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Upon many years of research and study, even in the most "morally good" hearts of "men" ignite the lust for riches, fame, adventure. When promised one of these things, it is surprising exactly how far a man will bend to your will in order to obtain it. I know you carry this knowledge, my dear little Chane, as you observe the little pawns that tail after me, all childish and devoted. All for what? At the promise of immortality. Why would I reward such selfish things? It's almost laughable considering they're nothing more than materials just waiting to be used.

But not you, Chane. Never you. The material things never moved you.

Your willingness to please me always astonished me. Whenever I believed your loyalty could go no further, you always bounded to new heights. You became quite well-versed with a knife in order to become more useful. If only a modicum. I asked you what was your desire, it was to take your voice away so you'd never "betray" me.

You try so hard, little Chane. You try so hard. It's hard to grasp what I want, isn't it, little Chane? Whenever you attempt to close the distance between you and I, you only find that the gap has grown ever so wider. Through your acts, you're always trying to inspect my face for the slightest hint of satisfaction.

Aren't your hands calloused and worn, Chane? Where is your limit? All these years, trying to please me and yet I only give you the barest of hints. Still like a broken mirror, trying to reflect what a parent would want to see in his offspring, in the tiny little shards of your ego, but you can never quite project my image. Digging, digging. Always digging until you hit rock bottom. And even then, you still dig.

Such devotion. Such...loyalty. Enough to make the eyes tear, as one would say.

If you were human, that is. Oh and how you know you're only a click higher above being just raw materials. Yet you still try to reach out. You still give me that puppy-eyed, deprived gaze. For what?

Love?

Amusing. Extremely.

The fondness I have for you reaches the capacity of an owner with a favored tool. And like any mindful owner, I'll use you. Exhaust you. Until you cannot take anymore. Law and ethic would say that this is..."abuse." Too bad that morals are petty, obsolete things my world. I would say the true abuse would stem from the refusal to put such a wonderfully potent tool to work. And how much you can take is such a puzzling question, the mind boggles.

So many a hypothesis have been made about it, little Chane. Tested out. Proven. Disproven.

But we'll figure out, will we not? Like any good experiment, it requires time and patience, then only science will tell.