SURPRISE I'M BACK AGAIN
Alright, this is sorta a brief flashback chapter to the story. Yep. I'm still doing these. I know some of y'all don't like these kinds of chapters because they don't necessarily pertain to the central plot. But let me tell you now, They will… eventually. The second story arc to this story isn't really supposed to be all that relevant at first. It's supposed to be out of place. When this story eventually comes to an end, things will make sense. (I hope lol)
I was kinda quick with this update cause I wanted it to get out of the way, plus, I know a lot of you are excited to see what happens to Judy and Nick in the main story arc. Things are getting pretty intense lol. Book 3 is probably going to be the most interesting book yet. I'm excited to start fucking with people, and I'm really excited to fuck with the characters in the story.
Now don't worry, I'm not gonna constantly bombard Nick and Judy with more darkness and depression. In fact, I'm wanting to make Book 3 one of the more lighter books in the series. I mean, come on, Nick has gone through enough already. There's gonna be more fluff. I think everyone needs more happiness here. But ohhh, just when you think everything's all fine and dandy… That's when shit hits the fan. Fuck, I need to stop procrastinating…
I'm really excited to get on with this story.
16 Years Ago
John always hated the Tundra Bureau.
It was a center for crime and corruption, an ironical hotspot for thieves and looters of all walks of life. Whether it was the tallest bear, or the smallest arctic shrew, mammals everywhere were involved in the business of criminality. There were the villains and victims; the mob bosses and the street hustlers. Predators started young here, and when they grew up, their children would follow in their footsteps. It was a system that John despised, a repetitive cycle he once vowed to never get himself involved in. He promised to himself that he would never be affiliated with such a dishonorable way of living.
But now, walking down the snow-covered streets in the chill of night, he was breaking that promise.
He scanned the area from left to right, glancing down the passing roads and staring into the frozen alleyways. Homeless predators gathered around fires and slept next to fireplaces, their collars shining noticeably in the dimly lit corridors around him. The police tended to avoid the area. If something were to happen to John, not much would be done in response. Prey didn't like the cold, and as long as the act was Pred-on-pred crime, they frankly didn't care. Anything could happen to him. Anyone could attack him.
But the fox wasn't scared.
Although he felt strikingly out of place, fear wasn't a thought that crossed his formidable mind. No. He wasn't nervous. He wasn't anxious.
John was determined.
He could see him in the distance, a polar bear stood with an emotionless gaze at the front of the establishment. Yes. John's destination was now in sight. He had never been to this part of the city, but the place he was going was unmistakable. It was an establishment renowned for both its mob activity and delicious seafood…
And the fox wasn't planning on eating.
John sighed and glanced up. The building's facade was massive. Even if he hadn't seen it a few times in newspapers, identifying the establishment proved to be an easy effort. The restaurant stood like an iceberg, like a giant, snow-packed castle. The fox was greeted by the glowing flashes of neon lights. He read the flickering letters as they appeared.
"Koslov's Palace."
John slowly entered the area of light around the building. The polar bear remained in his stagnant position, keeping his paws down close to his waist. As the fox got closer, he could start to see an item being held in the bear's grasp. It was an item that John scarcely saw, it became strikingly apparent as he approached the entrance.
The beat was yielding a machine gun.
John sighed, shoving a paw in his pocket and pulling out an old wallet. Even though the restaurant was closed, he still needed his ID. He slowed his pace as he got to the bear, unfolding the wallet and revealing his readily available identification card. The bear bent down, towering over the fox as he looked at the tiny picture in the clear plastic pouch. After a few moments, the guard stood back up, turning around and returning to his original position.
With a nod, the bear allowed him into the restaurant.
John stepped through the massive set of doors, walking into the warmth of the dimly lit restaurant. He placed the wallet back into his pocket and glanced across the building's interior. Around him, tables and chairs were wiped clean and haphazardly put away. Wooden seats were flipped upside down, resting at the edge of every table in the room. The restaurant was still. The palace was empty.
The fox started to step through the unfamiliar environment. The restaurant was a lot cozier than he'd imagined. If the establishment wasn't ridden with crime and immoderate gang activity, he would've even considered bringing his son to eat here. No. John wouldn't dream of it. The father never wanted to see his son walk through those giant doors behind him.
"Mr. Wilde."
A gruff voice came from the back of the room. John glanced over. Sitting in a booth at the furthest corner of the first floor, the owner of the restaurant sat leisurely with a cigar in his paw. For a split second, John could feel himself shiver. The polar bear was a giant. Even the strongest and tallest tiger would be unsettled by his unearthly presence. John took a deep breath and shook his head, walking forward with quickening steps. He was here for a reason. He had to stay focused.
With a persistent mind, John marched over and took a seat across from Koslov.
"You're a few minutes late…"
The bear spoke with smoke in his lungs, blowing out a puff of fumes and setting his cigar down onto the table. John remained silent, sitting up tall against his velvet seat.
"...but— at this hour, I'm in no rush…"
He glanced across at the empty establishment. It was almost four in the morning, late enough for the last, lingering drinkers to make their way home, and early enough before the morning breakfast crowds showed up at the doors. The Palace had rarely been quiet lately, and when it was, Koslov enjoyed every minute of it. He glared over at the door, speaking with a partially concerned tone.
"... And I want to apologize for the— Extra security at the door… The Big's have been pretty active lately… Lost three of our guys last week in a shootout… Whole thing could've been avoided if we just—"
"—Can we talk about the loan?"
The bear was cut off by John's sudden interjection. The two of them became quiet. Seconds passed as the fox started to speak again, slowly stammering his nervous words.
"... I'm sorry, can we just— … Can we just talk about the loan… Please?"
Koslov remained silent, somewhat annoyed by John's anxious interruption. He sighed deeply, eventually turning to the side and bending down. In an instant, a large, overstuffed briefcase was in sight. Koslov turned back to face the fox and dropped the case with a soft slam.
John's eyes widened at the sight.
Money was extremely hard to come by as a predator, and as a fox who wanted to make an honest living, John rarely had enough wealth to get by. Banks were always cheating mammals like him out of their money. Although laws had been put into place to prevent fraud, prey always found ways to work around the rules, and when they did, the government didn't really care. It was difficult to live normally as a predator, and getting money to run a business was becoming increasingly impossible.
But Koslov was doing just fine.
John was beginning to feel uncomfortable. It wasn't right to tap into tainted wealth. The money he was about to borrow was gained through drug production and weapon distributing. He was taking advantage of a broken system, and even though law enforcement didn't care, he was beginning to act like a criminal. He had to decide between setting a good example and keeping his business alive. The options seemed to clash and contradict each other, but as the fox thought about it, he knew he had no other choices. He had to prioritize his family. He had to prioritize Nick.
John had to pick the latter.
"... Tell me how this works…"
The bear sighed, grabbing the case and spinning it around to face him. At the click of a small metal latch, he opened the briefcase and pulled out a wad of cash. Koslov raised it into the air and spoke groggily.
"It works like the big banks do it— Right here, I give you $9,000… For the next year, I will expect a payment of $750, plus 12% interest, of on the first of every month…"
His voice trailed off. Koslov turned back and picked up a folder on the booth beside him, opening it up and searching through its contents. In one brisk motion, he pulled out a single sheet of paper and set it down on the table, sliding it over to the fox across from him. John glanced down at the paragraphs of text below him. Koslov tossed the folder down and continued to speak.
"... Signing that entitles you to the terms and conditions of our arrangement."
John looked up, cautiously inquiring about the agreement.
"And— those… are?"
The bear folded his arms and leaned back.
"If you fail to repay me— or if you intentionally decide to not repay me, you will be indebted to me through the services I provide for you."
John glanced back down, hesitantly scanning through the lengthy lines of the detailed terms and conditions of the paper he was about to sign. Koslov smirked to himself, summing up the contract with one laid-back phrase.
"So basically— if I don't get my money, you'll work for me."
The fox remained silent, wincing at the unsettling thought before him. John knew he could make the money back, but the possibility of failure always lingered. He spoke up with a gulp.
"—And if I don't… if I— if I can't work for you… Or something?"
The bear only laughed.
"—Then me and my boys will pay you a little visit!"
John shuddered violently, pushing the paper forward and leaning back into the velvet cushion behind him. He looked over towards the door and contemplated; part of him wanted to get up and leave immediately. He didn't belong here. He couldn't get involved with the gang.
The two sat silently for a few moments. Koslov noticed the fox's uncomfortable reaction. The amusement in his expression quickly left, soon replaced by a sober and serious tone. He sighed and glanced into the dimly lit room around them.
"Look— I don't give loans to just anyone… I have enemies, lots of enemies… You wouldn't believe how many shitbags tried to get away with not paying back the courtesy I gave them… If you're not responsible with my money—"
"—I'll be responsible."
"Ah— but how will I know that?"
The bear looked back to John. The fox kept a vacant gaze, his face traced with the trance of quiet contemplation. His thoughts ran rampant. The complexity of his dilemma buzzed in his brain like swarms of hornets. The decision reappeared in his head: he could just get up and leave, dissociating himself from the crude way of living and returning to an honorable lifestyle of a caring father. John wasn't sure how much he could commit himself. He wasn't sure where to draw the line.
He gazed at the contract yet again. No. He wasn't backing out. He wasn't stepping down. John pushed the fears out of his head. This wasn't about him, not anymore.
…
…
…
John spoke with a soft voice.
"I have a son…"
He paused momentarily, glancing up at the bear across from him momentarily. Koslov's sat with his arms still folded. John looked back down and continued.
"... Listen, I— … Being here goes against everything I've stood for, everything I've taught him… I'm getting myself involved with something I've always tried to avoid—"
"—And that is?"
…
…
…
"Fitting the label that the government puts on us."
The polar bear shook his head and shrugged, propping himself up and picking the cigar back up. He raised it towards his mouth as he spoke.
"—To be fair, I think their label's pretty damn accurate…"
"I know, it's just…"
John's words faded. He shook his head and put his paws in his pockets. With a sigh, he turned to face the black windows across the restaurant floor.
"We can't be what they tell us to be… We need to prove them wrong for once…"
Koslov smirked, his cigar puffing a cloud of smoke as he spoke.
"Prove them wrong? —Mr. Wilde, prey are always right…"
"No… No, I don't think they are… I think they're mistaken… We need to show them that we can be productive citizens— The government wants a prosperous economy, and we can give them one, as long as they give us a chance!"
The bear responded with a smirk, partially amused by the fox's optimism.
"Sorry to burst your bubble, but… things aren't changing."
"You don't know that."
"No, I do."
"A century ago we were all working as serfs… They gave us rights, and they can give us more!"
"Yeah… They also gave us these lovely collars…"
"That's only temporary—"
"They'll shoot us if we take them off in public!"
Koslov's exasperated voice broke into a sudden silence. John's hopeful tone faded, replaced by an expression of solemn determination. A collection of thoughts and emotions ran through his head, all too quickly to show themselves at once. He took a deep breath, refusing to let the feelings get to him…
…
…
…
Without speaking another word, he pulled out a pen and signed the contract with a shaking paw.
"Look… All I want is to create a safe place for my son…"
His voice was hoarse, as if a new personality had taken over his body. John shoved the pen into his pocket and started to stand up.
"... All I want is to show him that we can live fair and honest lives…"
Koslov kept an apathetic smile on his face, watching as John grabbed the briefcase and lifted it off from the table. John held the money to his side as he stepped back.
"... I want to show him that we can be more than thieves and drug dealers…"
With a dignified stare, John turned around and began to march towards the exit. Koslov took another breath of cigar smoke, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. He spoke with a coarse tone.
"And what if he becomes one?"
The fox's stately steps stopped suddenly. Koslov rested his paw on the table, staring at his customer with smug and sarcastic smile.
"—What if your son grows up and becomes a thief… or a drug dealer?"
A period of silence came between them. John continued to face the door in front of him, staring blankly in a reserved stupor. A few seconds passed. The fox sighed, stepping forward and reaching for the door.
"Unlike you, I can say I tried."
At that, John swung the door open and disappeared into the dark.
Koslov only chuckled to himself, smoking his cigar returning to his own contemplations. Surely the fox was crazy, he thought. He couldn't change the world, not even for his son. It was an amusing meeting for the bear.
Koslov didn't know John Wilde. He didn't care who he was or what he did with the money; as long as he got it all back, everything would be fine. He wasn't an enemy. He wasn't a friend, and he wasn't someone to remember. No. To Koslov, the fox was just a disillusioned father with an unrealistic imagination. Social integration was an impossibility. Not only would the government not allow it, but another factor divided the two classes. Fear. Biology. It was only natural for everyone to hate each other. The bear could only grin at the thought:
Predators and prey would never get along, not even in the most extreme circumstances.
Thank 4 redding mi shet