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The Underbelly is a wonderful place. One can find all sorts of things from all corners of the multiverse. Parts of a ship lost to the seas centuries ago. Food stuffs that only grow in the most exotic and inhospitable corners of a desolate planet. Fabrics yet to be invented on his version of Earth. It's a glorious, wonderful place for a person to find anything their heart could ever desire.
And to pick up the most tantalizing news.
The rumors were vague, at first. Some young upstart trying to muscle his way into the racketeering business. He was nothing imposing, the rumors said - physically, at least - but talk of a curse followed him. If his symbol appeared above a business' door, the proprietor would go mad - if they didn't submit themselves to the young man's demands.
Maybe it wasn't the twenty-something boy who was the problem, the rumormongers whispered, but his sister. No one knew for certain.
The first death got the attention of local business owners. A quick, well-placed stab left the victim bleeding out in an alley, and it scared everyone who was visited by the young man to give him what he wanted after that.
It was curious, though, that only certain businesses were targeted. Brothels, night clubs, and eerie fairgrounds all saw their owners hit up by the young man while emporiums of even the most exotic goods were left untouched. No one thought to question the pattern, only to pray that they wouldn't be next.
Raymond Reddington, being the curious, nosy man that he is, almost couldn't help himself from trying to find out more. Something was coming, that much was obvious, and he burned to know what it was.
He finds himself in one of the clubs that's been recently visited one night as he debates his next move. The original owner has "willingly" handed over his business to his next in command after finding himself out of his mind, which makes it the perfect place to start. He knows everything he could manage without drawing attention to himself. Now, it seems, it's time to step out of the shadows.
"Barkeep, another pour, if you please!" he calls over the noise. "And the number of your painter, if you please. That crest above your front door? It's fascinating. I simply must know who designed it to see if I can have them put one above my door as well."
And to pick up the most tantalizing news.
The rumors were vague, at first. Some young upstart trying to muscle his way into the racketeering business. He was nothing imposing, the rumors said - physically, at least - but talk of a curse followed him. If his symbol appeared above a business' door, the proprietor would go mad - if they didn't submit themselves to the young man's demands.
Maybe it wasn't the twenty-something boy who was the problem, the rumormongers whispered, but his sister. No one knew for certain.
The first death got the attention of local business owners. A quick, well-placed stab left the victim bleeding out in an alley, and it scared everyone who was visited by the young man to give him what he wanted after that.
It was curious, though, that only certain businesses were targeted. Brothels, night clubs, and eerie fairgrounds all saw their owners hit up by the young man while emporiums of even the most exotic goods were left untouched. No one thought to question the pattern, only to pray that they wouldn't be next.
Raymond Reddington, being the curious, nosy man that he is, almost couldn't help himself from trying to find out more. Something was coming, that much was obvious, and he burned to know what it was.
He finds himself in one of the clubs that's been recently visited one night as he debates his next move. The original owner has "willingly" handed over his business to his next in command after finding himself out of his mind, which makes it the perfect place to start. He knows everything he could manage without drawing attention to himself. Now, it seems, it's time to step out of the shadows.
"Barkeep, another pour, if you please!" he calls over the noise. "And the number of your painter, if you please. That crest above your front door? It's fascinating. I simply must know who designed it to see if I can have them put one above my door as well."
