Paths Taken

I don't like being accused of something I didn't do, and more importantly, I don't like it when a man who needs something from me carries himself like that.

Tell me everything you know.

No, no, no. That accident? I don't know any more about it than you do.

But I want to tell you a story, a story I don't tell very often, a very personal story. So, please pipe down and listen well, alright?

...

A long time ago, I had a 'fratello'.

We had a great relationship. We grew up together, sharing some of the dumbest moments of our youth. However, over time, a rift started to grow between us.

I started learning to manage the family business and understanding the rules of Siracusa, but my fratello, sadly, wasn't interested in any of that.

He was interested in Victorian literature, Leithanian music, and Siracusan plays. He spent most of his time in those silly theaters.

The year I first took over the family business, I found his corpse in our parking lot.

When I found him, I was enraged. I knew he was offending people, saying stupid things. I could have taken revenge, but I let it go.

Do you know why?

Because you're a cold-blooded mafioso?

Haha, I take no offense to your crudeness... but that's not quite the right answer.

It's simple. Far too many people misunderstand the meaning of famiglia.

Mafiosi are not 'duty-bound' to each other. They invest in each other and must work hard to protect those investments. Those with a common purpose and the determination to stand together can truly call themselves mafiosi.

The moment my fratello chose a different path, he was no longer an associate of my famiglia.

What are you trying to say?

I do not like to debate with other people. Business is all about finding mutual understanding.

If you truly care about avenging your fratello, you should go to City Hall and ask for their help. Here, with me, it's strictly business.

Well, that's about all the time I have now. My calendar is all booked up. I have to go meet a client.

...

I will handle the matter with Leon. It has nothing to do with you.

Don't let me catch you stepping over the line.

You're a tough woman to meet, Signorina Lavazza.

If memory serves, I've sent several invitations to you in the past. Even getting you to show up here today was a big surprise.

...

I know why you're here.

You want to hand over the truck that caused the accident, along with its cargo, to me.

Yes. That's correct.

Transferring your own issue into an issue between the famiglie. That's smart.

And that is why... I have to say no.

But, Alberto, why?

This thing has nothing to do with Famiglia Saluzzo.

I'm sure you know that City Hall has been watching us closely, ever since the thing in Volsinii. Why would we want to poke the bear now?

But this is a rare opportunity for you, no?

In just a year's time, almost every major district in Nuova Volsinii will have a Venezia Trucking sales center or repair station.

But if you have evidence that shows they are smuggling contraband, you can negotiate with them, or you could hand it over to City Hall, to smooth things over.

Whichever option you choose, it will work out well for you. Am I wrong?

All you need to do is ensure that the Truckers' Union does not get involved with the events that occurred last night. That shouldn't be too hard for you.

Why did you choose the Saluzzos?

I beg your pardon?

The Medicis' investment firm, the Leotis' pharmacies, the Genoveses' sugar mills, the Roccas' steel factories... There are countless families that have entered Nuova Volsinii by way of their front businesses.

You have many different options.

To me, they're all the same.

Us truck drivers just want to find new lives in this new city. We can't make sense of it all, nor do we care to. We do not care what happened in the Grey Hall, which famiglie have gotten stronger, which have gotten weaker, etc.

Which is why my answer is so important to you.

...

I grew up in Sicilia. I haven't seen my parents since I was a child.

The manager of a supermarket took me in when I was about 10 years old. He already had a daughter, but he treated me like his second one.

A little over a year ago, one of the smaller, local famiglie set fire to our supermarket, over a very minor dispute. As a result, my little sister contracted Oripathy.

Later, I heard that small famiglia was completely wiped out by another larger famiglia that had entered Sicilia, simply because they refused to cede their territory. That larger famiglia's name? Saluzzo.

That is the only connection we have to the famiglie. That's why, when I got desperate, I thought of the Saluzzos.

...

I only have one small request.

Tell me.

I hope that in the future, the Truckers' Union will be able to do some favors for Saluzzo Vino, favors that only the union can provide.

...

No—no no no. I—I think you've got us wrong.

You get a bargaining chip, and in return, you help us solve a problem. That sounds like a fair trade, right?

The Truckers' Union will no longer have any dealings with Famiglia Venezia, and it won't establish any kind of relationship with Famiglia Saluzzo. You can't...

You're running short on time, Signorina Lavazza.

...

You just told me a Siracusan story, a good story at that.

So, when you choose to solve things the Siracusan way, you must remember: the minute you take a seat at that table, many things are out of your control.

Signor Saluzzo.

Speak.

Tomorrow, I'll show you where we've stashed the truck.

We're almost there. The Port of Nuova Volsinii is straight ahead.

Whoa!

What's wrong, Noemi? You've been here before.

Do you ever get a funny feeling when you come here?

What?

What I mean is, every time I come here, I don't know where I should stand. I always feel like I'm in the way...

Noemi, we are very busy today. I wanted you to wait in the office. You're the one who insisted on following me here.

I may still be in training, but I can help out. Maybe I can even crack the case.

Well, I only started in this job three months before you. Neither of us is all that experienced.

Papa wants me to settle into this job quickly. It's a decent profession, and serving as a police officer means I'll be able to protect my family's pizzeria.

OK. OK. You already said all of that stuff to us on your first day on the job. Come on, kid. Don't you have any tact at all?

Uhh... hehe.

Alright. Let's get back to work.

There are a total of fifty-six repair stations across the city's twelve plates, and the other officers are checking them one by one. We've already dispatched a unit to the Trucker Camp as well.

The Port of Nuova Volsinii is the last place left. Almost all of the box trucks conduct business at this port.

But finding one truck in this huge place? It's searching for a needle in a haystack!

A fitting analogy, but a bit exaggerated. We've got to get a move on, or we'll be here past sundown.

Let's start here. You go east, and I'll go west. Remember, we're looking for trucks with any signs of damage. Don't overlook a single dent, ding, scrape, or scratch.

Got it!

Signs of damage... signs of damage...

How are there this many trucks in this city?

This isn't right. If someone had been in an accident, why would they stash the damaged truck in such a conspicuous place?

Wait. What are those tarps covering up over there?

Have you found anything on your end?

Not yet. What's wrong? Did you get lost already? I told you to have your coffee this morning.

I don't drink coffee. It's too bitter.

Not when you dunk in a donut or two...

C'mon, let's stay focused on the task at hand. I know the truck we're looking for is hidden around here somewhere! Get over here, quickly!

You hid the truck in the Port of Nuova Volsinii?

My guy picked up the goods here. He was only halfway out of the city when the accident happened.

It happened so suddenly. He was too afraid to drive the truck over to Famiglia Venezia, or back to the Trucker Camp.

The truck's cabin got all busted up. The damage was far too noticeable, so he had to turn back. He drove back to this port, the place he knows best.

Where exactly is the truck?

Over there.

That's...

The place where all the floats are parked.

Floats?

These giant floats are modeled after the mythical beasts from Siracusan legends. They're going to be the big surprise of the Carnevale. City Hall spent nearly six months preparing them.

They will lead the Carnevale parade across the central avenue and through the entire city. Under the gaze of all the citizens, they will bring the festive atmosphere to its peak.

The port officials have covered them with a tarp, so as not to ruin the surprise.

The driver hid the truck under the tarp?

Yes. Sommer disguised it as one of the floats.

I'm not sure exactly which truck it is. Wait for me here. I'll go talk to the dispatcher.

...

Why are all the floats moving all of a sudden?

Signorina Lavazza, are you going to check each and every float? You don't think that's a bit much?

No. I'm not going to...

—

—

What's going on?

Noemi, tell the workers to put out the fire, now!

You mean, this is the truck we've been looking for, the one that hit the Acting Mayor?

That fire is getting out of control. If we wait for them to put it out, there'll be nothing left.

You think this fire was accidental?

I just think... hiding the truck among the parade floats, then setting it on fire, all just to destroy the evidence? That's both too complicated and blatant.

Or maybe... that's what they want.

It's a message, a provocation.

What a huge fire... It's hard to make out whose likeness the burned wolf was modeled after.

You? Me? Zaaro or Agnese?

Not any one of us.

Humans can never imagine something beyond their cognition, and they are too fragile, always cowed by fear...

Perhaps to them, all 'uncivilized' lifeforms are like this—baring their teeth and full of menace.

Regardless of how they created that image, they clearly put a lot of effort into it. It's a shame that it was burned like this.

...

Your wolf pup isn't around. There's no need to act so benevolent.

She doesn't know your identity, nor the truth behind the conflict, yet she almost helped you win this round of the game.

There's no more shameless Signora dei Lupi than you, Caesar.

No.

Projekt Red, my dear girl, her hunting skills were subpar, much less so under the influence of humans.

Victory was far beyond her grasp.

Zaaro's Fang was not killed by her. Agnese's Fang has been weakened, but still lives.

And you, Vargo.

In the first round of the game, your wolf pup hid all too well. Red couldn't even pick up his scent.

...

I remember you once told me that this was the most satisfying choice you've made among our countless rounds of games.

Is your wolf pup lying low, waiting for the others to fight to the death so it can jump out of hiding and claim victory?

The wilderness has always been this way, has it not?

*sigh* Vargo, do you really think the others can't see through your disguise?

What if I already know where your wolf pup is hiding?

—