It takes a while to figure out where Lucci's house is exactly, but when it comes to information digging, Nami's the best source to go to, so by the time the the clock strikes 7 'o clock, we know where to go.
"Don't give me any of that full stomach bullshit. Or about how cops should come. Or about how we should leave it alone. Or--"
"I-I get it, Nami," I reply my hands gripping onto the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles are turning the same colour of my face... that is, white. As it turns out, their base is about as subtle as Nami is generous. That is to say, not at all. It's a mansion. Literally, a mansion, about as big as Brooke's.
Now, I am generally quite fierce and fearless, but something like this has me scared. Just a little bit.
"Your knees are knocking," Nami observes before getting out of the car and pulling me out. I look at her, waiting for her to take the first step - she was the one who wanted to come here without a good night's sleep to think about it! - but she pushes me ahead of her.
"Wasn't this your idea?"
"Yes, but I'm a cute girl. I'll be kidnapped. You're the big strong man, aren't you, Detective Usopp?"
"Nope. You're definitely stronger than me. Manlier, too." ...Well, when things get desperate, one must take desperate measures.
A bruise on the top of my head tells me that yes, she is definitely stronger than I am.
"So, Usopp," she briefs me as we make our leisurely way up the stone path, "they call it Lucci's mob because he's the strongest, but he's not the leader."
"Why isn't the strongest guy the leader?"
"I don't know," Nami says, shrugging. "Anyways, a guy named Spandam is the leader of the place, Lucci's the strongest, and we've gotta worry about the other members."
"So in other words, this is suicide?"
"Nope," Nami says, with a smile and a tap to her nose. "They'll spare me 'cause I'm a pretty woman."
"Right."
“But not you, ‘cause-“
“I get it, Nami.” She grins at me in response, bravado hidin’ what I’m sure is fear underneath. In fact, I’m positive that behind that smile, she’s more scared than a cat up a tree. Bad example. Cats up trees usually aren’t that scared. I know that ‘cause when I tried to save one once, it scratched me instead of thanking me. Rude creatures.
…actually, that does fit Nami real well. But I’m getting’ more off topic than a kid with A.D.D. trying to give a lecture on genes. Yeah, yeah, that was in bad taste, but what can I say? I’m a gritty man, after all. I’m getting off topic again.
Long story short, we get to the door, knock on it, and some guy just looks at us as if he’s been expecting us all along and tells us to come in. I look to Nami to see if she recognizes him, but she simply smiles blankly. Must be some new guy. We’re led into a sitting room, and the chairs are squishy and the fire’s warm, but all I can think about is our imminent doom. We’re left there until a woman sidles over, and smiles.
Now, you know how I described Robin as being a beautiful woman? Yeah, this dame’s a pretty one too, but not nearly as pretty as the doctor’s assistant. The only difference is… skin. Yeah. A lot of skin. Nami elbows me, and mutters, “Get your jaw off the floor, Usopp, and work with me.”
“My jaw was not on the floor,” I mutter back to her, indignant, but she sighs her world-weary sigh that suggests that we’re all idiots.
“We were looking for the owner of this residence,” Nami says, all professional-like, “to ask about the musician Brooke’s death.” She smiles sweetly, then, and looks about as innocent as a thief. “We heard that he played here last, so we just wanted to know if you thought he was acting weird.”
“Ah, but Miss Nami,” the woman says, as coy as my assistant, “the last place Sir Brooke played was a club down fourth street. Maybe you’d be better off checking there.”
“Yes, let’s check there,” I agree with her. What? The woman’s got sense!
Nami’s smile turns steely. “No, we’d like to investigate here anyways. This is a big place, and surely you nice people know something,” she purrs.
Kalifa stands, two long, long legs and heels clicking on marble floors, a shock of long blonde hair, a-“Usopp, pick up your jaw.”
"Don't give me any of that full stomach bullshit. Or about how cops should come. Or about how we should leave it alone. Or--"
"I-I get it, Nami," I reply my hands gripping onto the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles are turning the same colour of my face... that is, white. As it turns out, their base is about as subtle as Nami is generous. That is to say, not at all. It's a mansion. Literally, a mansion, about as big as Brooke's.
Now, I am generally quite fierce and fearless, but something like this has me scared. Just a little bit.
"Your knees are knocking," Nami observes before getting out of the car and pulling me out. I look at her, waiting for her to take the first step - she was the one who wanted to come here without a good night's sleep to think about it! - but she pushes me ahead of her.
"Wasn't this your idea?"
"Yes, but I'm a cute girl. I'll be kidnapped. You're the big strong man, aren't you, Detective Usopp?"
"Nope. You're definitely stronger than me. Manlier, too." ...Well, when things get desperate, one must take desperate measures.
A bruise on the top of my head tells me that yes, she is definitely stronger than I am.
"So, Usopp," she briefs me as we make our leisurely way up the stone path, "they call it Lucci's mob because he's the strongest, but he's not the leader."
"Why isn't the strongest guy the leader?"
"I don't know," Nami says, shrugging. "Anyways, a guy named Spandam is the leader of the place, Lucci's the strongest, and we've gotta worry about the other members."
"So in other words, this is suicide?"
"Nope," Nami says, with a smile and a tap to her nose. "They'll spare me 'cause I'm a pretty woman."
"Right."
“But not you, ‘cause-“
“I get it, Nami.” She grins at me in response, bravado hidin’ what I’m sure is fear underneath. In fact, I’m positive that behind that smile, she’s more scared than a cat up a tree. Bad example. Cats up trees usually aren’t that scared. I know that ‘cause when I tried to save one once, it scratched me instead of thanking me. Rude creatures.
…actually, that does fit Nami real well. But I’m getting’ more off topic than a kid with A.D.D. trying to give a lecture on genes. Yeah, yeah, that was in bad taste, but what can I say? I’m a gritty man, after all. I’m getting off topic again.
Long story short, we get to the door, knock on it, and some guy just looks at us as if he’s been expecting us all along and tells us to come in. I look to Nami to see if she recognizes him, but she simply smiles blankly. Must be some new guy. We’re led into a sitting room, and the chairs are squishy and the fire’s warm, but all I can think about is our imminent doom. We’re left there until a woman sidles over, and smiles.
Now, you know how I described Robin as being a beautiful woman? Yeah, this dame’s a pretty one too, but not nearly as pretty as the doctor’s assistant. The only difference is… skin. Yeah. A lot of skin. Nami elbows me, and mutters, “Get your jaw off the floor, Usopp, and work with me.”
“My jaw was not on the floor,” I mutter back to her, indignant, but she sighs her world-weary sigh that suggests that we’re all idiots.
“We were looking for the owner of this residence,” Nami says, all professional-like, “to ask about the musician Brooke’s death.” She smiles sweetly, then, and looks about as innocent as a thief. “We heard that he played here last, so we just wanted to know if you thought he was acting weird.”
“Ah, but Miss Nami,” the woman says, as coy as my assistant, “the last place Sir Brooke played was a club down fourth street. Maybe you’d be better off checking there.”
“Yes, let’s check there,” I agree with her. What? The woman’s got sense!
Nami’s smile turns steely. “No, we’d like to investigate here anyways. This is a big place, and surely you nice people know something,” she purrs.
Kalifa stands, two long, long legs and heels clicking on marble floors, a shock of long blonde hair, a-“Usopp, pick up your jaw.”
“Yes ma’am.”
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