Hey all, thanks for coming back.

Just a heads-up about the style. Since sign language will be used in some parts of the story, singing and talking will be italicized and underlined. Signing without audible dialogue will only be in italics.

I have left some footnotes for general knowledge on Gangsta's world

Chapter 2: First Meeting

The body rolls on the floor, surrounded by shattered glass, falling on the other side of the empty doorframe, as blood splashes on the floor from an open shoulder wound. She quickly grabs the dagger from earlier on from the ground as Worick peeks, only to meet Nick crouching between the broken window—leaning his left hand at the top of the window and leaning inside.

Her previously flustered emotions graduate toward an unamused poker face as she exchanges a look at Nick. Grinning at her to the body and back at Nick again. "I told you not to bring your guests here unexpectedly! You broke the window again," she says and signs simultaneously.

"As if you care," Nick signs, rolling his eyes, "It's not a 'guest' and he's dead anyway.What's taking you two so long? I have things to do..." he looks Worick up and down, who's still a bit pale, "why are you looking like that?"

"Her lovely hands slipped again…but I'm good," he gives Nick a thumbs up.

"I wasn't worried," Nick shoots back, disregarding his dramatic act.

"Wait…you were here? How long have you been here?"

"I was delivering some packages. I've only been here for 5 minutes, but I'm sure it has taken longer," he rolls his eyes, waving his hand as if talking to a teenager.

"What a hefty and nasty package," she tilts her head, pointing at the body lying over there.

"Dude, you know how smug she is. I told you to come instead; she'd never argue with you! I could've done that. Don't you feel bad for your buddy?" he sulks, pointing at his stomach where she punched him. Meanwhile, Biserka walks back inside the room, grabs the backpack, puts the dagger in her pocket, and walks out again.

"No. I don't want to be the target of those daggers."

"Neither did I man!"

"You two better stop mocking my–" she stops, takes a deep breath, then continues, "Agh, let's just go. And Nick, you better take that garbage out of my place." She looks inside her bag, shoving her hand inside in search of something. She finally takes out a realistic mask with one tone darker than her own skin. She wears the mask with one hand as if it were her skincare routine, pushes the neckline into her shirt, and makes it as natural as her own face.

"You sure about this? It's just the PD; everyone knows you," Worick says with an uncertain voice.

"Not the Levi guy, he doesn't. It'll stay till I'm sure."

"Suit yourself," he shrugs as they exit the building.

"Where are you staying?"Nick asks, pointing back at the building with his thumb, reminding her of her house renovation as they walk further and further away.

"Your place of course," she replies casually, as if the answer is too obvious.

"What? Why? Go somewhere else. Go to that barista's place."

"I didn't ask."

"Still salty, huh? At least bring some booze to celebrate," Worick smirks, tapping her shoulder. She doesn't reply but doesn't seem to object either.

After a twenty-minute walk to the PD, they finally arrive in silence. Biserka glares at Worick, whose smirk just seems to grow wider and wider with every step they go up the stairs.

Worick opens the door for her, "M'lady." She shoves him aside and walks in.

"I'm here, now what?" she states bitterly, blinking as she's overwhelmed with the colours, auras, and PD members. Colours that reek of failure and feebleness. She never understood why this city has PD to begin with. In a city that's run by four mafia Godfathers, PD is nothing but a Muppet whose threads are pulled from here and there. A shelter for conflicted Normals: people who don't hate Twilights 1but don't entirely trust them, heroic bunches with futile dreams of bringing equality to this façade, or those who are just too scared to join any troops, so they find solace here. Something is lurking among all these familiar colours, a sense of uneasiness from a strong presence. Biserka wonders if that's her guy. Even if it is, these colours bother her for some reason she can't figure out. It's dark, with a sense of familiarity that's making her uncomfortable.

"Yo Chad-san, I brought the Holy Grail, shall I be the king now?" Worick remarks mischievously, winking at the old Chad, who's leaning on his desk, chewing and puffing on his thick cigar.

"You took your sweet time to come. You said 35 but it's been over 70 minutes. No crown for you," Chad snarls.

"Aw man! We don't have a car like you, put that into account, will ya?"

"Not my problem. Next time count right. Now pay up," he grins, holding out his hand. Worick's shoulders drop as she takes 40 bucks out of his pocket and gives it to Chad.

"No wonder you were in such a rush. Heh, at least you lost," she smirks victoriously.

"That face again? Which one is this one again?" Chad glares at Biserka, unamused.

"The one that can walk out any moment," she shoots back.

"If you want to get paid, drop that nasty attitude."

"Now, now be nice to each other," Worick waves his hands between them, drawing a truce.

Chad sighs, smacking his forehead, "Anyway, the so-called 'newbie' is over there, standing next to my office door," he points toward his office. She turns her neck to the side to see a man standing there, an unusually short one—probably the same height as Doug.She observes him from a distance. She can't fully see his face; his raven bangs are shadowing his eyes. So far, he doesn't look much familiar. He's wearing a black trouser, a gray buttoned-up shirt, a black leather jacket over, plus something that seems out of place…is that a freaking ascot? She keeps analyzing him, up and down, wondering if she's always been such a fashion expert.

Guided by Chad, they reach the office, with Chad and Biserka at the front and Worick and Nick keeping behind. Now she can see his dull gray eyes. He seems to be around the same age as Worick. Well, damn, didn't expect an older dude.

"Oi, snap out of it," Worick whispers, tapping her shoulder. She blinks her eyes to come face to face with the new guy who's watching with absolute disinterest.

"Ahem. As I mentioned, this is Levi Ackerman who recently joined the PD. Levi ~ Biserak Lennon, Biserka ~ Levi," Chad introduces the two together. She nods and waits for him to continue. "As I've told you, Biserka will be working with you on your upcoming cases. For now, she'll be your supervisor. Although she works freelance, she used to be a full-timer, but currently she isn't always here. Well, I hope you enjoy each other's company," he lets out a heavy breath as if he just finished defending his thesis.

She steps forward and raises her hand for a handshake to see Levi's poker face.

"All this ceremonial shit only to bring a brat here. Is that the pro you warned me about? She's just a brat," he hisses, looking down at her hand.

"We can put it into a test if you'd like," she responds calmly, keeping her hand up for the handshake. His presence, colours, and voice are all frustrating her beyond reason.

"Hey, hey! Take it easy, it hasn't been ten minutes yet! How about a drink?" Worick jumps in with his usual cheery smile, but his voice is lost and ignored as if talking to a wall.

"Tch, we'll see the truth soon. You're just a brat," he finally raises his hand and shakes hers.

"You were just miserable enough to be born a couple years earlier. Nothing to be proud of," she says as a faded smirk curls in the corner of her mouth. She could see she's pissing him off, and she enjoys it.

"Oh at least, I'm not borrowing anyone's face," he slightly tilts his head, staring into her eyes, squeezing her hand. Damn, he's sharp, but this ain't over.

"Oh, don't be so sure, somethings go beyond looks. Like dignity and purity," she squeezes his hand as his colours change. Bingo. 6 out of 10 children are illegitimate in this city. Levi finally lets go of her hand.

"Haha co-workers' jokes are the best, right Nick, right Chad-san?" Worick makes an exaggerated laugh, hitting Nick, who's standing behind him with his leg. But Nick only shrugs.

"Alright, we'll leave you two be. Nick and Worick do something or get out! there's no extra oxygen for you here to waste," Chad yells while lighting another cigar.

As Worick and Nick leave, Levi looks at Biserka again and says, "So now what? You wanna wrap me to a chair and pull everything out of me? You don't even work here. Where the hell we're gonna sit?" he asks, looking around the floor filled with busy and messy desks.

"Pack your stuff," she responds, changing her backpack from her right shoulder to the left.

"Huh?"

"Loft, roof or the 4th floor?"

"I don't speak toddler."

"You're so slow, why are you here? I said, loft, rooftop or the 4th floor. If you want to stay in this smoky hell be my guest. I'm just doing you a favor," she rolls her eyes," there's a small room on the rooftop. It's not wind or soundproof, but it's noisy-ass proof. On the other side of it there's a loft with a staircase from here to there that's the longest staircase. Lots of stairs but it's more furnished."

"The loft," he says as he grabs a bag from the corner of the room.

"The loft it is. Now follow me."

She takes a teabag, instant coffee, plastic cups, doughnuts, two flasks of boiled and cold water, and other objects and leads Levi to the stairs, wondering again what on earth caused her to agree with this.

A/N

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think ^~^
See you next time!

1 Ergastulum is a city that started as an incarceration camp for people who used a drug known as Celebre in 1913. As the population grew, the camp became a full city designed to keep them away from society. The city has four gates: north, south, east, and west for entering. Twilights who are born outside the city are known as strays and are taken there, and they won't be able to are descendants of celebre users, a drug designed by the government and given to soldiers during WWI to enhance their durability. They are ranked S-D 0-5, with S/0 being the highest and D/5 the lowest. As a result, Twilights are born with abnormal physical abilities. As a result of generations of celebre usage, Twilights are exposed to mental side effects. To control the side effects, they must regularly take celebre.

Source: wiki/GANGSTA._Wiki