Do You Dare To Make A Deal With He Who Surpassed Even The Devil?
Summary: End of S1, Fitzgerald trying to get Fukuzawa to sell the permit, which inevitably started the three-way war when Fukuzawa refused. Well, what if someone else barged into the meeting? Fitzgerald was most certainly not expecting to run away with his tail between his legs, that's for sure. But what else can you do when hell is empty and the devil is right here with burning red eyes and a horrific grin?
Fukuzawa stared down the blond American who had so brazenly and arrogantly landed a helicopter in the middle of a busy road in the middle of the day, in the middle of a big city like Yokohama, just so he could land near his destination. To say he was not impressed was a gross understatement.
Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald, the leader of the American underground criminal group that had an influence on an international level with their fingers in almost every aspect of many governments, was a fairly tall blond man in his forties, dressed in a cream colored suit that no doubt cost as much as this building. He was confident but also not stupid, having come into the Agency with two of his members, a red haired girl around Atsushi's and Tanizaki's age and a young man, both looking almost as smug and as confident as their leader. Fukuzawa did not like the way they appraised Naomi, who was there only for formalities and to serve tea. He had no doubts in being able to protect the young part-time clerk or in his assurance to die trying, but he would have preferred her not to get caught up in this if he can help it.
Hell, he would have preferred this situation not to be happening at all, but it's too late for that.
To be honest, Fitzgerald annoyed him in a way rare few people managed to. He was disrespectful. He didn't bother remembering his name. And he made a very indecent proposal right off the bat while also subtly insulting the Agency for its, so to say, limited resources. Even Naomi was getting annoyed and sassy towards him. And all that is not even mentioning the fact that he had so brazenly placed a 7 billion yen bounty on Atsushi's head. It had brought the Port Mafia to their doorsteps more than once and had been cause for ample injuries and property damage.
He even insulted the Port Mafia! Calling them ill organized crime syndicates! How Fukuzawa wished he had the power to send him back to the time of the old Boss. Mori was a bastard, but he'd at least done a good job at keeping balance in the city.
Still, to think that he'd come before Fukuzawa with nonsense like "I'd like to buy your Agency" and "I want your Skilled Business Permit"! That he would believe Fukuzawa would sell the Permit Natsume-sensei went through so much trouble to get for them!
His refusal definitely angered the blond, but Fitzgerald did not scare him.
"Money can't buy everything, eh? The poor do enjoy that old adverb," he said mockingly, eyes boring into Fukuzawa threateningly. "But act as strong as you want ... For no company can continue with its entire employee base gone." Fukuzawa made sure to show no visible reaction to the now clear threat. Showing weakness in front of this man would be like entering a shark tank with an open wound. Luckily, Fukuzawa had plenty of experience in hiding his thoughts from dealing with Mori. That was one thing his old partner had been good for. "It will be far too late to change your mind once that happens."
'I won't allow it,' he swore to himself while appearing calm on the outside. "I will keep that advice in mind." He gestured towards the door. "You may g-"
Suddenly, the door burst open and in waltzed Dazai, being his usual cheery self with a charming smile and hands full of a bottle of good whiskey and two glasses with ice in them. "Do excuse me, Shachou, but there is no need to be so rude to a potential business partner." He then boldly perched himself beside Fukuzawa on the couch, smiling at Fitzgerald and his company all the while, completely ignoring the hostility rolling off of them in ways at his sudden and not so subtle entrance. "We should not be so hasty to turn down an offer before reading all the fine print. After all, the devil's in the details, no?"
Fukuzawa stiffened, not sure where Dazai was going with this. His intervention was not necessary, Fukuzawa had it all under control-
"We can't afford such needless conflict, no?" Dazai finished with a smile as he put a glass in front of Fitzgerald and then himself, opening the bottle to pour them a drink.
"May we know who's joining us?" The American asked as he took up his glass and took a far more enthusiastic sip than he had with the tea.
"My apologies, how rude of me. My name is Dazai Osamu," the brunet replied as he finished serving the drinks. "And no deal will be made or turned down without my say so."
Just as the President was about to protest that, Naomi leaned over his shoulder to show him a text from Ranpo reluctantly approving of this. Fukuzawa pursed his lips but let it happen. If Dazai at any point goes too far, he'll be sure to interfere accordingly.
"Oh, is that so? Well, you certainly know more about negotiating business, serving me such good whiskey," the blond complimented and Dazai took a sip of his own drink nonchalantly before leaning back in his seat so he was sitting in the most elegant, confidant, relaxed yet poised manner Fukuzawa had ever seen from him. There was a completely different aura around the brunet just then as Fukuzawa watched the genial smile turn into something sharp but not yet deadly.
It made his hand itch for the hilt of his sword.
"Shall we skip the small talk then, Fitzgerald-san? I heard that you are interested in buying the Agency's Skilled Business Permit, no?"
"Yes, that is correct. As you can see," he gestured towards the briefcase full of money on the table before them. "I'm willing to pay quite handsomely for it."
"I am sure you are. However, these Permits are not given to organizations willy nilly. I'm afraid just this won't be enough."
"Dazai-"
"Dazai-san, was it? I like you. You have ambition. Tell me, then, how many more zeroes must I add in order to obtain the Permit?" Fitzgerald asked, taking out a checkbook and pen, ready to write any amount on it. Both men completely ignored Fukuzawa's cut off protest.
"It's not so much a financial issue, Fitzgerald-san," Dazai countered as he reached into his pocket and took out an entire folder of papers that resembled contracts from what Fukuzawa saw as they were handed over. "The Permits are issued after great feats and great sacrifices have been shown by the organization seeking it. To transfer the ownership of a Permit, the new owner has to meet quite a few conditions."
"That's fine," the blond replied merrily. "I can easily bribe any government officials I need-"
"It's not just the government you'd have to please," purred Dazai in a dark tone that finally had both Fukuzawa and Fitzgerald properly focusing on him. There was a deadly glint in his eyes now that Fukuzawa had to put in effort not to squirm away from.
This was not the Dazai he knew.
"Only two major organizations in Yokohama possess a Permit and both are partially in ownership of the organizations' leaders and another, independent party." Fukuzawa stiffened as he realized Dazai knew at least something about Natsume-sensei. "Out of those two organizations, the conditions to transfer a Permit are more strict for the Armed Detective Agency than they are for the Port Mafia, as all three owners of the Permits had to sign over some rights to a successor who would continue maintaining the balance in Yokohama after them. Fukuzawa-shachou will never give over the Permit, even over his dead body, and Mori-san will rather unleash every fiend of hell in his possession than give away his. Not when the sacrifice he made to get it cost him so much. Their successors are even less likely to do so, especially for the Port Mafia's Permit. After all, not even a demon would spit on their friend's sacrifice, unwitting as it may have been."
"You know something about this?" Fitzgerald asked with a mockingly arched eyebrow.
Dazai smiled condescendingly. "Believe me, you don't want to know. Just read the paperwork I gave you to look over and then we can discuss business."
"And what makes you think I should even consider whatever proposal you have here instead of just taking what I want?"
At that, Dazai reached into his pocket and produced a flash drive, which he offered to Fitzgerald before he leaned back, crossed his legs and took a sip of his whiskey, looking oddly like a smug tabby who got the cream. Fitzgerald only then got the first hint that something was off. He still took the flash drive and his male companion produced a laptop, offering it to the blond. After turning it on and connecting the flash drive, almost instantly Fitzgerald's eyes widened in shock and something akin to fear.
Dazai simply shifted his glass around so the ice would clink against the glass and other ice pieces, looking so at ease and so nonchalant that Fukuzawa had to ask himself: when he was in the Port Mafia, what, exactly, did he used to do?
"How-"
"Since I left my last, incredibly paying job," Dazai interrupted before Fitzgerald could even properly start his question. "And had to wait two years before I could find other employment, I decided to play the stock market. You may have heard of Tsushima, no?"
Even Fukuzawa's eyes widened. He may not really understand much about the stock market or such grand investments, but the mysterious Tsushima Corp was famous and infamous to have their fingers in all the pies, internationally. The corporation was so influential that many on the stock market followed what Tsushima did in order to decide whether they should sell or buy, whether something will flop or succeed. To think that the owner? CEO? of such a company had been hiding under his nose all this time ...
Then again, it seems someone else was hiding right under his nose ...
This type of negotiation ... It reminds him of Mori-sensei, which made him wonder even more just what Dazai did for the Port Mafia. A mind like his ... The former doctor would definitely be intrigued.
"Moreover, I'm not the only one who noticed the drop in value of your companies' stocks. Your little single-minded campaign didn't go unnoticed. You spend your resources like money literally grows on trees. No good businessman would invest their money in a company that makes debts, not profit. Your wife's spending also attracted a lot of attention, on top of her poor mental health-"
"You bastard! I'll give you a punch worth 7 billion!" Fitzgerald screamed, lunging forward to do just that. A green glow enveloped him, streaks going across his skin, but Dazai wasn't surprised or worried. In fact, he simply reached forward and caught Fitzgerald's fist, No Longer Human lighting up the room as it effortlessly nullified the blond's Ability. Then, to everyone's surprise, he easily held up against the purely physical attack, too, despite looking too skinny and lean to hold much muscle or any strength in his arms.
But there was a glint in his eyes and a confidence in his bearing that belied just how much of his actual physical readiness Dazai was hiding. It became especially obvious when he shoved Fitzgerald back hard enough that he nearly tipped over the couch.
"Bastard!" The redheaded young woman spat and Fukuzawa could tell the moment she tried to use her Ability - something that was supposed to extend around them was his best guess - because Dazai lit up and the air in the room shifted for the barest second before settling back. The woman reeled back in shock. "W-what?"
Dazai sat back in his seat and tsked at the spilled alcohol as though violence hadn't just been attempted on him, on them. "And it was my good whiskey, too." He sighed before regarding the Guild members with none of the friendly business-like behavior from before. "Are you done with your temper tantrum? Or should I show you that I'm not bluffing?" He took out his phone - a model Fukuzawa knew he'd never seen Dazai use before, far too expensive for a detective's salary - typed some things in before showing the screen to the rest of the room, more specifically Fitzgerald. The man's face paled further as they all watched Dazai sell 2% of the stocks he owned of whatever business that belonged to Fitzgerald and within the minute, the value of the stocks dropped a staggering 9%. "Now that you see that I'm serious-"
"You don't know who you're messing with, boy," Fitzgerald snarled as he rightened himself, even adjusting his tie to seem less shaken than he was as he witnessed his assets lose value. Fukuzawa wasn't entirely sure why all of this was such a big deal, money was money and could be earned back with some hard work or clever maneuvering. But judging by Dazai's smugness and Fitzgerald's still pretty clear distress, it was a big blow. "I could incinerate all of Yokohama with a snap of my fingers-"
"And I can dissolve Mobey Dick with a touch of mine," Dazai waved him off, then thrilled when the Guild stiffened all over again. "Oh? Did you think you're the only ones smart enough to look up potential enemies, do some research? You flatter yourselves," he chuckled, an utterly cold and mocking sound. Then it stopped and Dazai's tone could counter the effects of global warming, it was that frigid. "I've been doing stuff like this since I was fifteen. Fourteen, even, though not officially and more as a sounding board for an infuriating doctor turned Boss."
Fukuzawa stiffened at that, immediately recognizing the description and rearranging the things he thought they knew about Dazai. Did Ranpo know? How had they not realized before?
Fukuzawa especially! Now that he thought about it, some of Dazai's mannerisms were even similar to Mori's!
But fourteen? Or even fifteen? That was so young ...
Then again, Mori liked them young. They were easier to exploit and manipulate ...
How long had he been with Mori? Had he been there, hidden somewhere, when they rescued Yosano? Had they overlooked him?
"You guys aren't even trying to hide your information, which is stupid," Dazai continued, seemingly unaware of the internal conflict going on inside Fukuzawa's mind. "You rely on your little strategist too much and she isn't even all that special or great."
"Why you-"
"I mean, all she does is lock herself up in a room and think, experiencing time slower by, what? Eight times? Eighteen hundred? No, eight thousand times, right? Impressive, really, for many other things, but for strategy making? I know four other people, myself not included, who can make better, more complicated and more successful strategies without the use of an Ability in less time than she needs to produce one of her little manuscripts. Four out of these five people, myself included, can even manipulate other people to fulfill our strategies without sharing a single hint of our plans. Ms Alcott really is nothing special in comparison. Speaking of devious, manipulative geniuses, to get played by demon Fyodor so bad ... How pathetic. I'd almost feel sorry for you, if only you hadn't gone and placed such a dangerous bounty on my student's head," Dazai said cruely, voice not once changing intonation, not once straying from the dangerous, seductive drawl it's been since the air in the room turned frigid.
"Mobey Dick isn't our only trump card! You underestimate Louisa," Fitzgerald replied, trying for smug but there was no mistake he was shaken. "And how do you even know about the Russian fellow?"
"Lovecraft may be a literal monster of the deep, but he's hardly the first non-human being I've brought to heel," the demon masquerading as Dazai replied nonchalantly. "Once you make a god your attack dog, the supernatural becomes boring."
Fukuzawa had not thought it was possible for a person to go paler than Fitzgerald and his entourage had already been, but he was proven wrong.
And then there was the whole shock at Dazai's little speech, because what!?
"Your own Ability isn't anything special, either," Dazai continued. "All it would take is a hacker to empty all your accounts and your power would be limited to the worth of the clothes you're wearing. Or even by legal means," he shrugged. "I'd just need to sell all the shares Tsushima Corp owns and at least half the stock market will avoid ever having anything to do with you within the hour. You'd have to pay a lot of debt, you'll lose connections and any sway you had in higher political spheres. Money is money, after all; none of them would come to your rescue. Instead, they'd sink you themselves and make as much of a profit from it as they can. Your accounts would empty out within two days. Or I could provide all the proof of your crimes. I'm sure there's enough that any prosecutor, no matter how bribed, would have to sentence you accordingly. Especially if it goes public~"
"Fine, I understand!" Thundered Fitzgerald. "You have my formal promise that the Guild won't attack the Armed Detective Agency. Just keep my assets, my wife and my subordinates out of this!" Then he slumped, frustrated and defeated, and Dazai just hummed, taking out a paper from the folder he'd given Fitzgerald earlier.
"I would like that in writing," he said with a smile that would have been charming if it wasn't sharp enough to cut diamonds. "Also, demon Fyodor was only using you. He knew you'd never find the Book on your own, but you had the resources to clear the way for him. In this case, that meant destroying every living being in Yokohama so he can ease his own search. More specifically, he was hoping you'd get rid of me. After all, a demon's worst enemy is a fellow demon and he's at the disadvantage of not having the same backing I could get with a few phone calls. He's aware of it, so he hopes to find me dead or incapacitated."
"I don't even want to know how you know about the Book," the blond grumbled in frustration. "You said the Port Mafia also had a Permit? I'll have to go and try to make a deal with them," he said as he signed his name on the contract before him, giving it back to Dazai.
The genius inspected it before nodding and tucking it away into his coat. Then he gestured back at the files.
Fitzgerald arched a confused eyebrow.
"Oh, you thought those were for the Agency? No, those are for the Port Mafia's Permit," corrected Dazai, as casual as can be as he finished his drink. "Good luck with getting that permit, though. Mori-san sacrificed his right hand for it."
"I heard nothing of the Port Mafia Boss having only one hand."
The brunet smirked at that and somehow, if that was even possible, the room turned even colder. And, somehow, darker. As though Dazai had some sort of second Ability that brought an atmosphere of doom and despair and made him look like a demon. In fact, was Fukuzawa hallucinating or were Dazai's eyes suddenly red!?
Fitzgerald seemed to understand and paled even more. At this point, he looked like a warmed over corpse. Fukuzawa was actually starting to worry about him, which was beyond ridiculous, as this man had come into his Agency with the intent to threaten him and his employees.
"Kenji-kun will see you out now," Dazai said pleasantly as he waved towards the door and the young blond came in, all smiles and kindness and sunny disposition that helped clear up the apocalyptic feeling in the room as Dazai finally let up, going back to his 'usual' demeanor. Not that Fukuzawa hadn't known that type of behavior was fake, as much as Dazai had no ill intentions behind his masks, but he'd never been so jarringly reminded of that fact as now. "Before you go, Fitzgerald-san," Dazai called out before the Guild could leave out the door. "Two pieces of advice. Don't bother with the Mafia, Mori-san will slit your throat with a scalpel before he even hears you out. And don't mess with Yokohama; you'll find that this city has plenty of protectors."
"I'll find a way to do what I want without you being able to interfere, Dazai Osamu," warned-promised the blond man.
"Even if you do," the named man retorted with a shrug. "The Book won't solve your problem. Nothing that is lost can be regained."
"Sounds like you speak from experience," Fitzgerald observed warily what all of them have deduced from such a somber sentence.
Dazai just smiled. "Whose friend do you think the Boss sacrificed for the Permit?" The smile turned frigid once more. "Do you know that one saying, Fitzgerald-san? Hell is empty, all the devils are here? Well, if they were, they encountered their greatest enemies yet and they wiped them out. Do you know who these great opponents are?"
"I have a feeling I won't like the answer."
"Humans," Dazai answered his rhetorical question anyways. "The throne to Hell is empty. It won't be another fallen angel that will sit on it. No, it will be a human. A human demonized enough to be called worse than the Devil himself."
"What kind of threat are you trying to throw at me, Demon Prodigy?" The challenge, and the title, were finally hissed into reality and with the open door, it's impossible that Fukuzawa's other employees haven't heard it. Was it a deliberate move on Fitzgerald's end to cause a rift in the Agency? Would that be considered breaking the contract he'd just signed? Most importantly, will it work? Fukuzawa needs his employees to be on the same page with each other, to foster camaraderie and trust. Especially with Kyouka now as a prospective future member. They can't afford a rift, not when the Port Mafia will undoubtedly make a move against them, too, should Fitzgerald start a conflict in Yokohama.
"Threat?" Dazai repeated before a chilling laugh trailed off of his lips, sending shivers down everyone's spine. "You think that was a threat? Oh, Fitzgerald-san, what kind of incompetence have you faced in your life that you consider that a threat? No, Fitzgerald-san," the genius said with amusement. "When I threaten you, it will already be too late. Don't play the game if you don't know or can't follow the rules. Yokohama is not like other cities and the same goes for the danger lurking all over its streets, be it day or night. You'll do well to remember that; Yokohama chews up and spits out those who don't."
"We shall see about that. It was a questionable if genuine pleasure doing business with you, Mr Dazai. I hope we never cross paths again."
Dazai just smirked at his retreating back. "You wouldn't be the first one to share that sentiment," he commented, mostly to himself but Naomi and Fukuzawa heard him regardless.
The girl seemingly couldn't help but jump Dazai as soon as the coast was clear. "Ne, Dazai-san, that was so cool! I didn't know you could be amazing!"
"Uh, rude," Dazai, the 'regular' one they usually saw prancing about in the office or pissing Kunikida off, replied in mock offense, but good humor was clear in his tone. "And I guess I never had a need to bring out my business side until today. That's really a 'past Dazai' thing, so I guess it makes sense I never brought it to life in the Agency," he explained with a shrug. "That should keep him off our backs, though. Their strategist isn't half bad, but unfortunately for her, I've tangoed with people of equal intellect as myself, even two at the same time, and she just can't keep up with that. They didn't expect they'd have to deal with me and the backing I bring. Withdrawing was the best move the Guild could possibly make in this situation."
"What about the Mafia?" Fukuzawa had to ask, because he knew Mori. He'll try to gamble if he sees the stakes are in his favor and that could spell disaster for the Agency. "How sure are you that they won't team up with the Guild and oppose us as a united front?"
Dazai waved him off, gesturing towards the folder. "I wasn't joking when I said that was the conditions to inherit Port Mafia's Permit. Or any contract, really. I doubt Mori-san deviated much from the system I left in place, considering how effective and profitable it was. I also wasn't lying about Mori-san rather slitting Fitzgerald's throat before he even finishes making his proposal, though that's not really saying much, since Mori-san would in general rather slit someone's throat." Fukuzawa had to thoroughly agree with that. It may as well be a fact of life: the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, healthy grass is green, the sky looks blue and Mori Ougai loved slitting throats with scalpels. He wasn't irrational about it, thankfully, because he was really good at it. "He would also rather slit his own throat than disregard my friend he'd sacrificed."
"Oh?" Naomi asked, curious but uneasy and a bit pitying towards Dazai for having gone through that. Fukuzawa extended his sympathies as well but he rather doubted the brunet would take them kindly. Perhaps from Atsushi, for whom he has a clear soft spot, but he doubts he'd take it well from anyone else.
"Oh, yes," the tall genius said as he got up and stretched, nonchalant and at ease as one can be as though they weren't talking about cold-blooded murder after he'd just scared away an enemy organization and revealed he was basically the boogieman of the criminal underworld until four years ago and that that persona - or perhaps Dazai's true self - still lurked, watching, waiting to pounce, behind the facade he pzt on every day for his coworkers. "After all, Mori-san chased me out of the Mafia because he was afraid of me. He feared that I'd aspire to take his position and would slit his throat, just as he did with his predecessor. Evil expects evil from others," he finished, then just walked out like nothing happened, going straight for the couch he usually napped on and proceeded to do just that, completely ignoring the questions everyone was trying to ask him.
Fukuzawa wasn't even sure if he should be surprised at this development and he left his employees to try to get information out of a man rumored to have never spilled a single secret but knew everyone else's in Yokohama. Instead, he went to his office with the folder Dazai had left behind, leafing through the papers. He was still at it when Ranpo walked in. "How much of this did you already know?"
"Surprisingly little, actually. He has a good mask. I suspected some things, of course, but even I was surprised to hear we had the Mafia's precious golden goose in our employ. I honestly thought he was a squad leader at best. Perhaps in the Black Lizard. He had us prepared for their guerrilla strategies for a long time now without us even being aware what he was preparing us for, so it wouldn't have been a surprise. But Mori's own right hand ... "
"The Demon Prodigy himself," Fukuzawa confirmed even as he put down the papers wryly when he realized why Dazai was so certain. Even without Mori's fear of Dazai and strategic, logical thinking in regards to the benefits the Permit would bring the Mafia's actions and business, there was no way Fitzgerald would have been able to earn that Permit. "This is impossible."
"I believe that was the point, Shachou," pointed out Ranpo. "I do believe that is every condition ever needed to be met to transfer business or a contract in Port Mafia history. Or, well, the golden era Port Mafia history."
"The Demon Prodigy's reign and contributions."
Ranpo nodded.
Fukuzawa sighed. "We really got lucky that the Port Mafia only recently took an interest in annoying us, aren't we?"
"More than we'll ever know."
Well ...
Needless to say, the Guild never did get a Skilled Business Permit. Fitzgerald really did very nearly have his throat slit and the monstrous Lovecraft in his employ all too mysteriously disappeared without a trace one day, all that was left of him was a bunch of craters. The Port Mafia went about their business and so did the Armed Detective Agency with a suspicious amount of new correspondence between them ...
Fukuzawa didn't question Dazai about it.
He'd rather stay sane, thank you.
OWARI
