Mumei and I approached the rendezvous point sometime around noon, just as the civies of Winningson were coming home from their nine-to-fives.

We stopped at a red light in a busy intersection, like the law-abiding citizens that we were supposed to be. Throngs of people of all stripes walked to and fro on the crosswalk in front of us: corporate drones from the financial district, drugstore and grocery clerks, tourists in strange clothes and Winningson PD cops on the beat. Every flavor of city-slicker passed us by, yes, but hardly anyone gave us a second glance, let alone turned our way.

I wanted to sneer at them.

OH! I wanted to honk my horn, roll down my windows and shout out at the top of my lungs, 'DON'T YOU KNOW WHO WE ARE!?'

Mother Sora knows that Mumei would have shouted along with me.

Though, the thing is… these civies probably wouldn't have an answer to that question. To them, we were probably just two more faces in the capital city making ends meet.

The sad part was, they wouldn't exactly be wrong. My face wasn't exactly printed on the newspapers - or on the front pages of the Daily Rattler anymore.

In Winningson, Mumei and I were nobodies at best - washed up mobsters at worst. Spend a year out of the limelight and this is what you get.

You see, my friends, ever since the HALU incident in The City, things haven't been easy for me and Moom.

Starting anew in a brand new place, even if it was just about nine train stations away, wasn't easy. Aside from the handful of folks who followed us from The City and the even fewer originals - the ladies and gents who helped me cash in my 'peace dividends' from Uncle Yagoo's merchant marine freighters - my Ouro Crime Family was barely smaller than Gawr Gura's shoe size.

Probably.

I don't know Gura's shoe size.

Sure. We had a cute little redberry smuggling racket in the outskirts of town, but that was peanuts in this town - the freaking CAPITAL of the nation. The beating HEART of Uncle Yagoo.

But that's gonna change today, I told Mumei.

Today, we were going to make it into the big leagues of Winningson.

"Today," I told Mumei, "We're gonna be RICH."

"Oh, Kronii." Mumei cooed, laying her hand over mine set on the gearstick, "You haven't changed since the day I met you."

"Should I change, Moom?" I asked, glancing sidelong towards her.

Mumei paused for a while, rubbing her chin.

My jaw dropped. Did she really have to think that long!?

Then, Mumei chuckled mischievously and shook her head with a smile, "Nah. I like you the way you are."

I smiled back at her, "Is that so?"

Then, the light turned green.

…

We carried on to the rendezvous point: some unremarkable alleyway across the street from the Kovalskia National Bank branch, far away from the prying yet uncaring eyes of the residents of Winningson. There, the half-dozen crew that made up my burgeoning Crime Family, my Kronies, were waiting for us.

The Kronies rushed over to our car and stood in attention, ready to wait on us hand and foot. I shut off the engine and my Kronies opened the door for me and Mumei. One of the Kronies offered me a cigar. Another Kronie snipped the cigar tip with a guillotine. A third Kronii then struck a match and lit the cigar for me.

All this, and I didn't have to say a word! Now that's the attention I deserve! Their dedication nearly brought a tear to my eye. I blinked rapidly, forcing my tears back, and puffed on my cigar with satisfaction.

But then, I saw those same stooges timidly handing Mumei a can of red berries, a can opener and a spoon. I was gonna berate them, but Mumei happily opened the can and started devouring its contents.

"Kronii!" Mumei smiled earnestly, her lips stained red with berry juice, "They knew I was hungry!"

Ahaha… I'm sure they did.

I blew smoke upwards and asked my Kronies, "Are we the first ones here?"

"YES, MA'AM!" My Kronies answered me obediently.

Ooooh, man. ' Yes, ma'am ', they said. That sent tingles up my spine. My cigar nearly slipped out of my mouth 'cause of the smile growing on my lips.

Get a hold of yourself, Kronster!

Keep your cool.

Act like a freaking Queenpin!

I folded my arms, suppressed my smile and heaved a stoic sigh, "Good. We have to give our… conspirators a good show, after all."

I looked up and watched the trail of smoke wafting skyward. They found their way to two billboards lording over the alleyway from the rooftops.

Advertisements for the Lemon Shark Fruit Cannery and the Swingwell Freight and Trade Union.

For a moment, the smoke took the shape of Gawr Gura and Calliope Mori.

I heaved a sigh.

I don't want to live under their shadows any longer, but I don't really have a choice. Until then… I'll do what I have to do.

…

As I was smoking my cigar, more cars started rolling into the alleyway. They arrived in fleets of three or more at a time: each car was the latest 1953 model, fancy as hell. Their spanking new, wax-polished sheen threatened to blind me… and it made my 1951 convertible look like a freaking jalopy.

I had to force myself to smile.

Still, with how they were able to get all of those cars into the alleyway so smoothly, I couldn't help but be impressed. Beside me, Mumei watched the sparkling cars with a furrowed brow.

"I'll wax the car when we get home…" Mumei grumbled, "I'll make it sparkle brighter than those lemons!"

She crushed her empty can of red berries in her gloved hands with a crunch.

The first fleet of the spanking new cars, all of which were orange and were emblazoned with koifish, came to a halt. Goons emerged from them in a quick but orderly manner.

These goons were sharply dressed in bright, comfy-looking orange zoot suits with koi fish pins on their lapels. Underneath their baggy suits, I saw the menacing glint of meat cleavers strapped to their belts. The goons hurried over to open the door for their leader, but the door opened on its own before they could do so.

A towering figure with a head of long, black hair emerged from the car. He, too, wore a large zoot suit just like the goons, but his large, rippling muscles and broad shoulders made it seem like a regular, albeit colorful suit. Even though I couldn't see a weapon on him, his blue eyes shimmered with confidence. His physique painted him as a scrapper - someone who would probably be more than happy to go mano-a-mano with anything that moved.

The zoot suit goons offered this man, their Kingpin, a wide-brimmed hat and leather gloves, which the Kingpin accepted graciously. The orange Kingpin put on the hat and meticulously slipped on the gloves over his hands - one of which seemed strangely discolored.

"Hey, Kronii…" Mumei whispered to me, "Who's this big guy?"

"Shinri Josuiji." I answered, still facing the tall man, "He's the orange Kingpin of the Comfykoi Ronins of River Avenue. I heard he also runs some sort of fish market cartel, mostly Xenokunian koifish."

Mumei smirked, "Think they sell sharks?"

I chuckled, "We'll have to ask Gura next time we're in The City."

"Oh, but what about his hand, Kronii? What's with the strange color?" Mumei asked, pointing her lips at Shinri's discolored hand partially covered by the glove.

"Beats me." I sighed, "He didn't stay long when I first met with the Vanguard boys. I never got the opportunity to ask."

Shinri tipped his hat towards me and Mumei. I nodded back to him and Mumei gave a polite curtsy.

...

Mumei and I stood quietly in attention and waited for the second fleet of cars to come to a halt next. These ones were muted red and were fitted with all sorts of modifications - the kinds that you wouldn't see stock in a car dealership.

"Dang it… look at those reinforced suspensions. And those rims!" Mumei shook her head, "Even my Owl Pals didn't soup up our cars that much."

As Mumei lamented, men and women in leather bomber jackets, denim overalls and checkered shirts filed out of the cars. Gear-shaped pins adorned their overalls, and every one of them wore baseball caps embroidered with the names of various mechanical and repair shops throughout Winningson. Every time they moved, the tools on their toolbelts clinked like wind chimes.

The army of mechanics opened the door for their Kingpin.

A short, fiery-haired man with catty, gem-like eyes in a sharp, three-piece suit, fur coat and a red tie emerged. If I didn't know any better, I would have said that this sore thumb looked like a typical Palisade Street stock market high roller. The gear-shaped pin on his lapel and the wrench hidden beneath his fur coat told me otherwise.

"What about this fairy boy?" Mumei asked.

"The red Kingpin of Vanguard. Flayon Artrus Machina the Tenth. Don't call him that, though. He goes by 'Flayon X Machina' on the streets." I warned her, "He's on the City Council - Winningson's Public Works and Highways. He's also the labor union chief of the city's gearheads. Their union's so large that they even have some sway in Congress."

"A politician…!?" Mumei's jaw dropped.

"You'd better believe it." I insisted, "He was a politician first - then he used their resources to form the Greased Gear Gang. The G3. All of the car repair and mechanic shops are in on the take. Talk about a side hustle, huh?"

"Hmm…" Mumei's expression deflated. She bit her lip with jealousy.

Flayon grinned towards me, acknowledging my presence, but he sauntered over to Shinri to chat with him. That gave me and Mumei a bit of time to breathe - but not for long.

...

The third fleet of cars came to a halt next. These cars were all two-toned pearl white and light purple with odd paint jobs that looked like feathers fluttering away in the wind.

"Looks like a bird cult-mobile." Mumei grumbled.

"Don't let them hear you say that." I urged.

Though, in my heart of hearts, I agreed with Mumei completely.

Either way, strange goons got out of those two-toned cars. These oddballs wore religious habits that wouldn't be out of place in a monastery - if only they weren't light purple, weren't feathery and didn't have square-shaped pins that looked like hollowed suns. They clasped their hands together wherever they walked and wore metal prayer beads like brass knuckles.

The faux-holy men and women laid themselves prostrate on the pavement before one of the middle car in their fleet. They started chanting something in Xenokunian with an eerie unison until the car door opened and their mythical Kingpin marched out.

A man with frizzy-styled purple hair emerged from the car with a proud smile on his lips. This Kingpin was clad in a strangely fashionable and modern black-and-purple pinstripe suit and trousers and fine Xenokunian leather shoes that nearly made me jealous.

Nearly.

Two of the Kingpin's 'worshipers' came forward: one bearing a puffy, purple tricorn hat with a large, matching purple feather, and the other bearing two 'walking canes' with sharp tips that could pass as spears. The Kingpin accepted the gifts and started making strange hand gestures, which his worshipers followed.

It honestly looked like he was trying to solve some sort of cubic puzzle in the air or something.

"Uhh…" Mumei was at a loss for words. I couldn't blame her.

I chuckled and tapped her with my elbow.

"That's Hakka Banzoin, the so-called ' El Padre Gran ' or something of the Iglesia de Omega Megachurch . Maybe I got the title wrong. I don't know." I whispered to her. I tried copying whatever the hell they were doing with their hands and added, "That thing they're doing? The padre says it means ' Praise The Cube! ' in their congregation: the Salvation Cube Cul… i mean Gang. Yeah. 'Gang'."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes when I said that.

"Salvation Cube…?" Mumei scratched her head, genuinely confused now.

"I… didn't bother to ask." I laughed with discomfort, "Something deep inside told me that I… really didn't want to know."

For once, Mumei nodded sheepishly.

Hakka faced me, repeating his odd gesture. I tried to mirror him, but Mumei stood perfectly still in absolute silence. Just like Flayon, he too, went to speak with the other Kingpins.

"What the heck are they talking about?" Mumei wondered.

"Maybe they're going over our plan for tonight." I suggested, giving my hypotheses, "Or they're waiting for their Big Boss to get here."

"None of those three are the top dog of the Vanguard Syndicate!?" Mumei gasped.

I shook my head.

"The big cheese should be arriving right about now." I answered.

...

Shortly afterwards, Mumei and I watched the fourth and last fleet of cars pull in. We saw four dark purple cars, each marked white with the suites of playing cards: heart, spade, club and - most prominently - diamond.

Mobsters stepped out of those marked vehicles, showing off their multi-colored suits that made the zoot suits of the Comfykois, the blue-collar, working-class chic of the Greased Gears and the roughspun, faux-ascetic garb of the Salvation Cubers seem tame in comparison. Even Mumei's maid costume couldn't hold a candle to them!

It was almost as if they were let loose in a tailor's shop and made to make their own clothes - the more outlandish the better. Hell, they didn't skimp on the materials either - all imported! How the hell did they get the budget for all those fine threads!? Swingwell probably made a lot of money off of these crazy fools!

Oh, but the fashion disaster circus had only just begun. Mother Sora, help me.

The mobsters dutifully opened the door of the diamond-marked car, finally unleashing their extremely strangely-dressed Kingpin.

He walked out sporting a two-tone pink and purple top that couldn't decide if it was an over-tailored zoot suit or a bastardized Pekolander kimono placed over a breezy Xenokunian camisa shirt. Please, brother, make up your mind!

Ungh!

Under those unfathomable coattails, the man wore short black trousers and knee-high boots with high heels. He crowned his head of messy ashen-gray hair with a tall opera hat lined with black diamond shapes around the crown and two-tone pink and blue fabric under the brim. To top it all off, he wore a puffy white ascot with black diamonds too.

Everything about him screamed ' overconfidence ', but his boys and girls didn't dare to speak up about it. Shinri, Flayon and Hakka all seemed to be used to the unusual fashion of the ash gray Kingpin.

"THIS clown is the leader of the Vanguard Syndicate!?" Mumei spoke her mind.

"SHHH!" I shushed Mumei, "Yes. That's him. Bettel Gavis. Everything that has to do with entertainment in this town - from TV and radio to the Cirque du Fantôme circus and the Winningson Grand Opera House - he and his gang, the Bettelion Group, has got a big stake in. I heard they even bought the Winningson Wizards baseball team one day just because Bettel felt like it!"

"Buying a baseball team on a whim!?" Mumei piped up, "Even at the height of the Owl Pals, we didn't just throw away money on a whim like that!"

"But they're serious business, Moom." I insisted, "Look behind their coattails. Every single one of them is packing heat. All of these clowns have gats, and they carry them out in the open!"

"Open carry…" Mumei deflated, "My Owl Pals had to hide their guns until we had to use them." She glanced at Bettel and his gangsters and frowned, "Just how powerful are these people?"

"Powerful enough for us to make it big in this town, Moom." I explained, "THIS is what the big leagues looks like here in Winningson."

"R-really?" Mumei stammered for once, "I don't know, Kronii. This power difference… this deal. It sounds…"

Before Mumei could finish her train of thought, Bettel glanced at us. I shook Mumei by the shoulder and forced her to smile and wave back to the fashion disaster of a Kingpin - perhaps the most powerful man in all of Winningson.

Mumei did as she was told, but her pout lingered on her lips.

…

Shinri, Flayon and Hakka all sauntered towards Bettel.

The four Kingpins of the storied Vanguard Syndicate chatted for a while before they turned their attention to me and Mumei. Together, they marched towards us. They and their assortment of colorful goons made my pathetically small showing of Kronies - and the vast gap between us - painfully obvious.

"Good evening, Miss Ouro. Miss Nanashi." Bettel greeted us with a polite smile.

"Good evening, Sir Gavis." I answered on our behalf, nodding politely too, "I assembled all of my soldiers, just like you asked."

The oddly dressed Kingpin eyed me, Mumei and our Kronies from head to toe. He nodded and put his hands on his hips.

"Tonight will determine whether or not the Ouro Crime Family has what it takes to make it in Winningson." Bettel spoke, gesturing widely like he was on a stage giving a performance, "Tonight - we will see if you are worthy of joining the Vanguard Syndicate." He glanced at me and smirked, "Are you ready to take matters into your own hands?"

I took a deep breath and answered firmly, "I was born ready."

Bettel snorted.

"I like the confidence, Miss Ouro. I really do." Bettel said, applauding me.

I couldn't tell if it was genuine or not. Then, he snapped his finger, spurring one of his oddly dressed gangsters to come forward with a rolled sheet of paper. Bettel took the sheet and spread it out on the hood of my convertible.

"Hey!" Mumei grumbled, "I just…"

"Mumei…" I begged her with a whisper, "Please."

Mumei wrinkled her nose and shook her head quietly. Then, we looked at the sheet of paper that Bettel brought out. It was a full blue print and floor plan of the Kovalskia National Bank branch across the alleyway.

"Now that we're all here…" Bettel glances at Kronii, Mumei and then at his fellow Kingpins, "Let's get to work, shall we?"

…

Queenpins 2 - The Big Brass Ballad of Kronii Ouro

The Kingpins of the Vanguard Syndicate

…

To Be Continued