It all began far away, one stormy evening eight years ago.

I remember it like it was just yesterday.

I remember lightning flashing in the gloomy heavens above me, illuminating the restless, turbulent waves and a small fleet of rowboats cutting through them. They were lifeboats jettisoned from a merchant marine ship that sailed out from the busy Dockyards of The City: from the S.S. Winningson, I think.

This wasn't some abandon-ship scene from the P.M.S. Teutonic or something like that though, no. The fine folks manning the oars weren't refugees or folks fleeing the S.S. Winningson. They were able-bodied, gruff-looking rowers with rough hands, unkempt hair and a singular thought in their minds.

' We're gonna be fucking rich! '

Heh, you should have seen it, friend. Those lifeboats were stuffed - filled to the brim with stuff we took from the freighter. Fruit salad cans from Lemon Shark. High-end luxury stuff brought in by Swingwell. We had so much of it that if the oarsmen made a big enough mistake, or if the winds of the seas got temperamental, our boats would have capsized!

Why take from the freighter, you ask? Well, it was all over the news that the war was almost over after we took Sunfish Hill from the Pekolanders.

That was why fine, law-abiding and upstanding citizens like myself and my crew wanted a little bit of a 'peace dividend'. Surely, Uncle Yagoo and the politicos in Winningson City didn't expect us to take six years of war rationing and all those war bonds we had to buy without a fight, right?

We wanted something for our trouble.

Ten thousand dollars each, a small fortune, wasn't too much to ask, now, was it?

That's what each and every one of us in those rowboats being tossed to and fro in the high seas thought. Wood creaked and moaned. Oars stabbed the sea, propelling our overstuffed boats onward.

The sea fought back with fierce waves, winds and surf. The skies looked on with flashes of lightning. But we weren't deterred.

I wasn't deterred.

All of these forces stacked against us? I tell you.

It was fucking exciting.

So there I was, sitting on the foremost ship in the group. I had a rain-slick yellow raincoat on, just like everyone else, but the winds blew my hood off. Still, my long, blue hair blew in the wind absolutely gloriously, I kid you not.

Through the rain and the spray, I saw the Dockyards of The City coming into view.

Filled with fire, I rose up from my seat, stomped on the edge of the boat and channeled my inner whaling ship captain. Then, I roared over the elements, "BREAK YOUR BACKS AND CRACK YOUR OARS, BOYS AND GIRLS! WE'RE ALMOST THERE! WE'RE GONNA BE RICH! RICH!"

"YES, MA'AM!" The rowers answered me.

Then.

FUUUWAAASSSSHHH~!

Powerful waves crashed against the boats, drowning out their cries. But the rowers followed my orders, doubling - and even tripling - their efforts. Against the sea, the winds and the watchtower spotlights of the Dockyards, the lifeboats approached our hidden moor: a hidden nook just past the Dockyards that we called ' Strawberry Cove '.

There, we were going to meet our buyer: a stolen goods fencer named Enma. Heh, but she's a story for another time.

Anyways, one after another, we steered the lifeboats into the cove. It was like a scene from the War Ministry films: troop transports landing on the Pekolander shores of Sunfish Hill thousands of miles away. Like our soldiers overseas, we beached our lifeboats and made our beachhead. Then, we started to unload our booty in a hurry.

"Faster! Faster!" I spurred my crew, "Faster before City PD wisens up and comes down here!"

When I said this, however, car engines started roaring in the forests shrouding Strawberry Cove. Headlamps, a multitude of them, switched on and cut through the darkness. I had to shield my eyes.

A fleet of latest-model, spanking new convertible cars rolled out from the brush shrouding Strawberry Cove. They surrounded me and my crew. Men and women with fancy brown coats and ten gallon hats with brown owl's feathers started disembarking.

"Oh shit…!" One of the crewmates cursed, "It's the Owl Pals!"

"The Owl Pals…!?" I cursed, "Did they take over this place too…!?"

I reached for the pistol at my holster under my coat, but the Owl Pals started bringing out Tommy Guns.

' We're outnumbered five to one…' I thought, 'Outgunned too. '

In the smuggling business, I was a gambling woman. But even I knew the times when to fold.

This was one of them.

It was at this time, though, that one last convertible car rolled into the scene. One of the Owl Pals in the firing squad dropped his Tommy Gun and traded it for an umbrella that he opened up in a hurry. Another gangster followed him, kneeling down on the sand by the door and bearing a red berry juice box with a straw in his hands.

This was when I met her .

A peculiar figure stepped out of that car: a beautiful brunette with long, brown hair tied into a ponytail, honey brown eyes that shimmered in the lightning and a wry smile painted on her lips. She took the umbrella and the juice box and marched towards me and my beached crew.

"Oh hi." The brunette beamed, but her bright smile and sugary sweet voice carried an unspeakable dread, "What do we have here? A silly little smuggling operation - in Owl Pals territory?"

She emphasized the name Owl Pals and sipped leisurely on her juice box. Fresh, red berry juice dripped from the side of her lips like blood, but she wiped it off with glee.

One by one, my crewmates dropped down to their knees and threw themselves onto the sand. They shivered and cowered harder than they did facing the elements.

But me? I shuddered too. My long legs shook from the cold and the dread, but I didn't fall down to the sand.

The brunette saw me. Her wry smirk widened.

"Hmm… this is new. Someone actually standing up to me." Her words turned sharper, but her voice grew sweeter somehow. She approached me until her umbrella covered us both. Face to face now, the brunette looked me in the eye and asked, "So, who are you working for, you silly girl? Deadbeats? Shrimps? Heh - City PD? Maybe one of their affiliates, then?"

Again, I tensed up, but I shook my head.

"None of those?" The brunette tilted her head with curiosity, "You're an independent operation, but you still chose to operate here?" Her honey-brown eyes shone devilishly and she asked, "Do you know who I am?"

"Mumei Nanashi. Queenpin of the Owl Pals of Parliament Road." I stood up straight and answered, locking eyes with this Queenpin. My voice wavered a bit, but I kept answering, "Y-you run all the North and the South and even parts of Central District. The Shrimps and the Deadbeats fight over the scraps you give them. City PD wouldn't even dream of touching you."

"You do your homework. I like that." Mumei Nanashi closed the distance, casting her shadow over me, "And who are you, Miss Smuggler?"

I took a deep breath and answered the Queenpin.

"The name's Kronii Ouro, Miss Nanashi. I'm a humble smuggler and war profiteer." I answered. I puffed up my chest, pointed to myself and declared, "I'm an independent, but I'm not gonna let anyone take what's rightfully mine. Not even the City's biggest Queenpin!"

Mumei's wry smile grew even wider. Oh, Mother Sora, I thought I was going to die!

She eyed me from head to toe, observing me closely. Her intense, unwavering gaze sent chills up my spine. It was almost as if this 'Mumei' was looking at my very soul!

"You've got spirit, Miss Ouro. I'll tell you that." Mumei smirked, "But how far are you willing to go to take what's yours?"

' How far ?' she asked me. I clenched my fist and answered, "As far as I have to go."

Mumei paused again, leaving the crashing of waves on the shore and the shower of rain on the sand to fill the void. She sipped on her juice box once more and reached into her brown coat. I breathed sharply. My heart beat hard against my chest.

' Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit! '

Then, Mumei brought out a business card and placed it into my hand.

"I'll let you and your crew off this time, Miss Ouro." Mumei declared, closing my cold, clammy hand around the business card. She turned around and walked back towards her car, pulling the umbrella out from over my head, "But the next time you do business on my turf, you go through me and pay the proper dues."

"Pay the proper dues…" I started, feeling the business card in my hand. My jaw dropped as rain drenched my head, "Does that mean…?"

"Yup. Consider yourself an affiliate gang of the Owl Pals, Kronii Ouro." Mumei turned around and flashed me another smile, "I look forward to doing business with you." Then she winked, "Call me, silly girl."

With that, Mumei and the rest of the Owl Pals disappeared into their cars and drove out of Strawberry Cove, leaving me and my crew in the dust. The crewmates picked themselves up from the sandy beach, absolutely shocked by what they had just seen.

"They're letting us go…?" thought one of the crewmates out loud.

"They didn't even take our stuff…" commented another.

A third smuggler waddled over to Kronii and whispered a question, "What did the Owl Pals tell you, boss?"

I heard what my boys and girls were saying back then. I could have answered them and told them what they wanted to know: about how we just got our lucky break in The City and all that.

But I just stayed silent and yelled, "Get back to work! We've got gifts from Uncle Yagoo to sell!"

I said that because my true thoughts weren't meant for their ears. I turned away from my crew, hid my rain-swept, blushing face from them and squirmed where I stood.

' That Mumei chick was hot just now. Almost as hot as me! '

That admiration - no, adoration - persisted for eight years, through the twists and turns of fate. And so did my relationship with Mumei Nanashi.

Even though the Owl Pals lost their hegemony - even though Mumei surrendered her crown to Gawr Gura and to Calliope Mori - and even though I was disgraced in that whole HALU mess, I stood by Mumei's side.

As her affiliate contractor.

As her partner in crime.

As her protector from the law.

...

And now… as her Queenpin-in-waiting.

We left our lives in The City, burned just about all of our bridges there and turned our eyes to neighboring Winningson, the Nation's capital. Every town needed a smuggler, after all - and I was gonna be Winningson's gal.

Now, I'm in the fancy brown convertible that I 'sequestered' from Detectives Watson and Takanashi, driving down the streets of Winningson with Mumei beside me. This time, I'm the one wearing fancy, designer pinstripe suits worthy of a Queenpin. Mumei, meanwhile, rode beside me as my right hand gal in my brand new Ouro Crime Family.

Though, I do wonder why Mumei suddenly insisted on wearing maid uniforms.

"You don't like it, Kronii?" Mumei asked, speaking with her same sugary sweet voice while wearing her same cryptically dangerous smile.

I do like it. Ahem…

"I wasn't thinking about it…" I dodged the question and kept my eyes on the road.

"Liar~" Mumei teased, "We're in a blank slate, Kronii. You can be honest with me."

I felt my cheeks flushing red.

"Ah… uhm…" I stammered, "Let's talk about this after we get the job done today, Mumei?"

Mumei pouted, "Promise?"

"Promise." I swore to her.

Mumei smiled again, "Alright. One bank robbery coming right up!"

"Yeah." I smiled back at her.

With that, I stepped on the gas and drove on to our destination.

The largest branch of the Kovalskia National Branch in the heart of Winningson. There, our conspirators - the four Kingpins of the Vanguard Syndicate - were waiting for us.

Mumei and I were ready to put on a show for them and earn our place in this city.

...

Queenpins 2: The Big Brass Ballad of Kronii Ouro

Prologue - Oath of the Owl

...

To Be Continued