Chapter 5: The Mobster
March brought about the first signs of winter's end. Elec Man, who had never seen spring before, thought the transition particularly dreary. It had become harder for him to do Syndicate work outside of Fulmen Financial. As the temperatures rose, banks of snow on the sidewalk filled the streets with gray slush. The skies were also gray, and every few days rain pattered down the windows in tattered streaks and drummed against the sidewalks. It was extremely distracting. Elec Man repressed shivers as he sat at his desk, casting icy looks on the humans treading mud into the clean lobby.
Though he was mostly resigned to stay at the front desk until the weather improved, Elec Man remained busy. He had bankrupted a major tech industry, dismantled the Iron Bolt Brotherhood, thwarted five hitmen from rival mobs who had tried to sneak past him, and destroyed seven more scrappers—child's play.
The mysterious criminal who disregarded criminal code with flashy heists remained at large. The news called him the 'Red Raider', and treated him as something of a figure of legends, a shadow thief who could not be caught. The Red Raider humiliated the police on a weekly basis, driving them to patrol New York City more fiercely than ever before.
As a precaution, Elec Man increased the bribes given to the police chief to keep the police quiet about any Syndicate activity they came across. He and Pharaoh Man weren't sure what to make of the Red Raider himself, for the Red Raider had yet to cross paths with a Syndicate Robot Master—but if he ever did, he'd be sorry...
In the midst of this growing turmoil in the Underground, Elec Man hadn't expected to see the human back at Fulmen Financial ever again, but the human turned up unannounced one overcast afternoon.
The human had dyed his hair a copper shade, which would have looked interesting but clashed horribly with the cardboard brown suit. Yet the suit was hardly the first thing anyone would notice about him anymore, something else was different about him. While the human hadn't exactly lacked confidence before, an unmistakable sense of power and freedom radiated from him that pulled one's attention like a magnet, only heightened by the puzzle of his identity. He had come into his own, but the human was definitely a civilian no more…the human had become a criminal. How predictably disappointing.
"…Again?" Elec Man called over flatly as the sliding lobby doors hissed closed behind the human.
The human was not his usual friendly himself. He was angry, the light flashing off his aviators as he stalked up to Elec Man's desk.
"I want some answers. I've heard your gang has declared anyone in the Underground who associates with Wily as an enemy to the Syndicate. Now no one will work with us like they used to, and some are even getting hostile. A month ago, someone set me up at the docks when I was doing a job for Wily. I almost died. I kinda see that as the Syndicate's fault."
Well, he appears to have made a full recovery, Elec Man thought dryly, and smiled unsympathetically. "You might be right, but why would we take responsibility for the repercussions of such a declaration?"
"That's harsh."
"Hardly my problem."
"Look, it's a big criminal Underground. Why not share it with Wily? Let me talk it over with your boss."
"You lack understanding of the nature of my organization…and organized crime in general."
The human shrugged tragically. "Then tell your boss this means war, and we're not scared of you."
"That's your folly, not mine."
If the Syndicate wanted, they could crush Dr. Wily's operation flat like cockroaches too stupid to run for cover when a light had been turned on them—but it was beneath them. Let the harsh nature of the Underground run its course. The increased pressure should have forced Dr. Wily to back down, but if he instead fought back, there would be consequences—
The lobby doors swung open with a loud, rude bang. Elec Man looked past the human as a second human, nearly as large as the doorframe behind him, stalked angrily into the lobby, brass knuckles glittered from the large fists hanging at his sides.
"Back off, punk, or I'll blow your head off," he ordered as he pushed the human aside. The human raised his brows questioningly at Elec Man, but Elec Man waved him away irritably, his eyes locked on the intruder—a big-time mobster, everything the human pretended to be but was obviously clueless about.
The mobster likewise fixed Elec Man with a flat, murderous stare, his eyes shadowed by an olive green homburg hat.
"Your boss has no business edging in on my gang's turf. The Big Apple's our city!"
"Sir, I have no idea what you are talking about—" Elec Man began. This was the worst time for a rival mobster to barge in, and he'd like nothing better than to brush him off.
To Elec Man's annoyance, the mobster slammed his fists on the desk, the brass knuckles leaving a mark. "Don't pull that horse shit on me! I've been down to that casino of yours, trying to talk to Blackjack Tommy and Louie Roulette! But that King Tut weirdo threw me out, said he didn't want a scene in front of the other guests. Told me to take it up here."
Elec Man took in the mobster with sudden recognition, realizing he'd have to be dealt with promptly. "I see. You must be Big Buck, leader of the Good Boys Guild?" Elec Man hated his name, hated him.
"So you have heard of my gang!" Big Buck leered down at Elec Man, his lower jaw jutting out.
"I really wish I hadn't."
"Don't act all high-and-mighty with me. It's not your business what our gang does behind closed doors or how we have our fun, your boss doesn't get to make all the rules! Not in my town! Now take me to your boss before I pound your face until you'll never look the same again, just like any other middleman who tries to get in my way. Then I'll sic my boys on you."
Big Buck advanced toward Elec Man, his brass knuckles raised, eyes glinting.
The human, watching the exchange raptly, also moved forward—what, did he seriously think he'd intervene? Sure, the human perhaps looked stronger than Mr. Smith, but what a naive idiot.
"Sit down," Elec Man commanded, shooting the human a warning look. Then he stood up, gestured to Big Buck, and lead him through the handless door behind his desk—the door that lead to a place for dealing with problems. Elec Man returned alone a few minutes later, nonchalantly straightening his tie as he sat back down at the front desk as if nothing had happened.
He wasn't completely surprised to see the human still there, staring at him with his lips parted. The aviators had slipped slightly down the bridge of his nose.
"Can I help you?" Elec Man prompted coolly.
"That man…"
"What man?"
The human looked appropriately unnerved.
"I…think I'm going to get going."
Unconsciously adjusting his aviators, the human departed hastily through the sliding doors and out of sight.
There. Two birds killed with one stone. Now that the human understood the consequences of tangling with real criminals, he wouldn't be back. Perhaps he wasn't so far gone after all if he could still be bothered by a small thing like this. Elec Man felt satisfied.
Yet…
Elec Man stared at his computer screen, but didn't resume work. He didn't feel sorry for the gangsters the Syndicate were ruthlessly rooting out. Some of the crimes humans committed were truly sickening. But the confused look of a civilian who had seen something they shouldn't have was difficult to wipe out of his mind, far more difficult than the affair with Big Buck.
Pharaoh Man visited Elec Man later to help take care of loose ends. They had been carefully coordinating the elimination of the Good Boys Guild between them for weeks, and it had been fortuitous that their hot-headed leader had shown up alone.
"Thank you for taking care of that on short notice," Pharaoh Man told Elec Man as they stood in his small back office, both fully armored and preparing to make a report to the Syndicate bosses.
"It wasn't a problem."
"I didn't think it would be for you," Pharaoh Man replied. His red eyes shone in the darkness of the windowless room as they examined Elec Man. A wrinkle formed between his brows, and he asked in a low voice, "…Is something else going on?"
"It's nothing."
"Alright. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
Elec Man rolled his eyes. "I know what you're going to say, that I'm young—"
Pharaoh Man chuckled. "You were young. Now you're grown up. I may always be older than you, but we are equals…Are you still mad at me for what happened in the Cleopatra?"
Elec Man couldn't help but smirk. "A little," he admitted (though without serious resentment).
Pharaoh Man chuckled, then held out his arms, the rich red inside of his cloak rippling. "Come here."
Elec Man frowned, becoming wary. "What are you…?"
Pharaoh Man pulled Elec Man into a hug. Elec Man stiffened at first (it was distinctly undignified and unprofessional for fearsome robot mobsters to hug like humans) but then he hugged Pharaoh Man back even more tightly, pressing his face into Pharaoh Man's shoulder. They were family, after all—Elec Man hadn't realized until how lonely he was feeling, and how much the mutual bond of understanding and acceptance meant to him at that moment.