Arc 1: Enter Superego and Ego

Chapter 1: Just Savages

Samantha DeAngelo was not a woman known for her patience, nor was she known for respecting her superiors. That's why when one of the consigliere of the Marchesi family calls her into his office she refuses to speak before he does. It started out how most of their interactions went. The man trying to intimidate her, and failing spectacularly. Him eventually giving up and snapping his fingers, and having the body guard that stood next to the door hold a weapon to her head.

Today it was a knife, which was really quite the switch up from the tawdry gun she usually had aimed at her temple. From what she caught from the side of her eye it was a pretty good knife too. Sam briefly thinks about asking the man where he got his steel from, but holds off on the temptation. Christoff was already turning a beet red color.

"Where is the kid, DeAngelo? Where's the Don's grandson?" The man was exactly what you would picture a loan shark would look like. The greasy sheen to his slicked back hair with graying strands around his temples, a patchy beard, and sharp dark eyes that dared you to go against him.

"Mah, you mean my nephew?" Sam idly corrected not even bothering to pay the man anymore attention. Her focus was more on the mirror behind his desk. She more often than not wondered if there was a room with a two way mirror behind that wall. Maybe there would be witnesses to her murder?

She lethargically took note of the bags under her dark brown eyes, and her ruffled shoulder length blonde hair. Sam no longer wore a suit over the white blouse she paired with a black skirt. Her sleeves were rolled up, showing that she had just come from finishing a shake down of one of the smaller businesses. She slowly looked away and back to Christoff to see him fuming.

Sam blinked as the man was now shouting, but she had tuned most of the conversation out of her mind. So she only caught the tail end of the screaming match he was having with the wall.

"…So you will hand over the grandson or I will kill you here and now!" Sam couldn't help the little smirk that tugged at her lips. It was about time the geezer started playing into her hands. If there was one thing that Sam was good at, it was strategy.

"No." Christoff blinked his beady black eyes at her. Shocked that she would so blatantly disobey orders. He knew how she operated, and she wasn't abiding by the rules. The man holding the knife to the vein in her neck tightened his grip. Already expecting the orders.

She had already calculated the probability that she would get out of here alive, even if she did give up the place where she'd sent her nephew, it was next to nil. Her chances at present were at less than 5 percent.

She had already sent her nephew to Tokyo 3 weeks ago with her best friend, and set everything up for them to live comfortably. She planted multiple false leads through her apartment, in Gina's apartment, and in her office. The Marchesi family would be left scratching their heads for a good long while.

She hadn't known what to expect when her brother told her he'd slept with the Don's daughter, but it sure as hell wasn't a pregnancy and the man sending a hit squad to kill her brother. But, Sam made sure she was the one that had the last laugh.

She would be the end of the mafia's influence on their family. Iggy would live out the rest of his life in Japan, and would receive a 17th birthday present of a full ride to any damn college with the stipulation that he graduate. She trusted Gina to make sure he made it to the end of high school.

Sam was snapped back to reality when the knife at her throat starts to draw blood. Christoff was staring at her, his pistol was already aiming at her. Judging by the trajectory of where he was aiming it would be right to the head.

Sam smiled.

"Fuck you, and the damn family. Iggy lives for no one but himself…By the way, I killed Fiona." The unspeakable rage that erupted over his face at the news of taking out the Don's only daughter was satisfying. She didn't view it as that great of a loss. In this world, it would always be an eye for an eye. They were already so blind to the emptiness of this existence, and the bitch was a rat anyway. She was lucky it was just poison.

The sound of a bullet exiting a chamber was the last sound she heard, and some how it was fitting. She was a woman that lived and died by the gun, she would have it no other way. Even if the one doing the shooting was absolute trash.

When she woke it was in, what she assumed, was a psych's office. The carpet was a dull industrial gray, and the heavy woods of the desk and the ceiling to floor bookshelf looked boring enough to check the box for some type of half-assed attempt to calm someone down. There wasn't even a window to look out of, and it made her feel claustrophobic.

"Samantha Gabriella DeAngelo," She must have blinked before a shadowy figure appeared behind the desk.

Narrowing her eyes, she went to reach for the small gun she usually kept at the base of her back and realized that the skirt she had been wearing was now a pale white dress.

Sam paused, she was pretty sure the last time she wore a white dress was when she was 14, definitely some time before she joined the mafia. Blood didn't really like white dresses. She had enough trouble with keeping up on blouses, let alone dresses.

"Where's my gun?" Was the only question that came to her mind. Not where she was, who the man in front of her was, not even if she was dead.

This was unacceptable to her to not have her security blanket with her. Blinking, nonplused, she looked back at the figure. Waiting for an explanation

He stared unimpressed back, and went back to shuffling papers.

"Age 21. Parents: Maria Samantha Blanco, Nicolai Desmond DeAngelo," a muscle in her jaw twitched at the information. She turned her attention to the man behind the desk and tried to take in his features, but it was like her vision blurred every time she tried to focus.

"And just where the fuck do you get off snooping around for information on me?" Sam snarled and stood to loom over the desk. The paper pusher stacked the papers in front of him together to move them off to the side.

"Do you realize you are dead, DeAngelo?" The man told her frankly. Sam blinked and was stunned at the blunt figure in front of her. She acknowledges that he was, in fact, correct, and sat back down. It was just jarring, but really it's what she had been expecting. Sam only felt the pain of never seeing her nephew grow into, what she knew, would be a great person.

"Well, when you put it that way, I guess I am." Sam agreed and leaned her head back against the chair she was sitting in to stare at the ceiling. The sigh the man let loose was a long one.

"In total you are responsible for the deaths of at least 45 people. 24 of those indirectly, the rest by your hands. What do you have to say for yourself?" The figure questioned. Sam rolled her head to her shoulder to look at the man behind the desk. She couldn't make out any defining features, not even his height or hair coloring. His voice was just obviously masculine in her opinion.

"I did what I could for my family, but in the end it wasn't enough-obviously." Sam stared blankly back at the man across from her. He was more akin to a black apparition in this blank and bland world.

"So, you feel no regret for the lives you've taken?" The figure spoke, his tenor a deep baritone, yet at the same time had an innocent quality to it that was actually wondering.

"Tch, I mean most of them probably deserved it. To be honest more shitty things happen to the people that don't deserve it than the ones that do. So take your stupid lecture to someone who cares, and kindly send me to the gates of hell." Sam snarked and crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat.

The shadowy figure interlocked his fingers and she could have sworn she felt amusement coming from the man.

"I would no doubt do so if you hadn't had the devil's luck itself. Tell me DeAngelo; what do you remember of your 13th year of life?" Sam paused for a second and blinked.

She tried to remember, but there was very little that she could recall of that time. For the most part, she had spent the time in bed, not being able to move. It was the initiating factor for why her brother joined the mafia. She needed to go to the hospital, but they had no money.

The sickness had eventually passed after a year or so, but surviving during that time had been hard. Their mother already dead and gone.

"I can't, it was pretty hazy there for about a year or two." Sam admitted freely enough. It wasn't really a secret that she had been laid out for the majority of the time. It was the reason why she had joined the mafia after getting better. Her brother had spent most of his time trying to find someone that would nominate him for a place in the syndicate.

"If you would think back, you might remember you ate something." He said calmly. Sam furrowed her brows and she thought back. It had been a pretty bad harvest season in her town, so she had gone to one of the free markets in the city closest to them and stole some fruit. It was a poor haul. All the fruit had been under ripe, but there had been a really over ripe fruit that had tasted like absolute garbage.

She could still remember the small strawberry that sort of sang to her even though it looked like it would be better thrown in the trash. Though she had never been one to deny herself something she wanted. So, she had eaten it and instantly regretted it. Now that she thought about it, that was about the time she fell sick.

"Mah, I think it was a shitty strawberry you're referring to. It was probably the worst tasting thing I've ever eaten and it felt like I was burning from the inside out." She could feel the ill humor as the man shook his head and chuckled.

"Tell me DeAngelo, what do you know of Devil Fruits." He asked as calmly as you please. Her eye twitched in irritation at the random ass question.

"What the hell does anime have to do with me being sick! Are you just fucking with me now? Seriously, just kick my ass to the underground. I'm sure Lucifer would be a little more tolerable than this bullshit mystery routin-" Sam felt the breath leave her lungs as the pressure and heat in the room increased. She didn't notice the figures neck twitch or blurry form shudder and roll.

"You would do well to understand that names carry power here. Names carry power everywhere, but especially here." The voice said darkly.

"Despite it being in anime and manga coming from a man originating in Japan, that does not stop people from giving belief to the world. To losing themselves in a world so unlike the one they live in. Very little is actually known about the universe and its intrinsic nature. There are things that even the beyond doesn't comprehend. As of right now, what we do know is, if someone creates something that idea exists somewhere. Ideas and thoughts have just as much power as names. Remember that Samantha Gabriella DeAngelo. Will and belief are very important things in the human experience." The shadow muttered disgustedly.

Sam was still unable to answer. The stifling heat licked at her skin and a terrified horror filled her soul and essence. It was something that she never wanted to feel again, a cold tearing sensation raked down her body and all she could do is stay frozen in shock.

"You'll need that information in this next life. Try to remember that murdering your fellow sentient beings carries consequences. Not that I really care, this is more for the unfortunate person currently screaming within this meat suit. For every life you take it is one more year added to hell, you're already at 45 years. Have fun, Tizona. Hopefully, we'll meet again… darling." Sam was lost after that.

"Hm, I seem to have forgotten to unlock her memories of the anime... Such a shame. Maybe a gift for good behavior. My own memories seem to be going with age." The shadowy figure chuckled menacingly and turned in his chair. The room turned a pitch black and a blazing white oval slowly bloomed open in the abyss.

"What will you do with your second chance, Samantha? With the Devil's Luck itself?" The figure asked himself. A fierce toothy smile curled at their lips. Teeth shining ominously in the black room. "HAHAHAAA."

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Q:Sam will need to unlock stuff from all the way to Wano, because we're in this for the long run folks. One Piece Trash unite.