14 14. A Trip To Frauce pt.2

[A/N:First 500 words is a bit of backstory for MC.]

I'm no stranger to the realities of gangs and criminal organizations.

My time as a lawyer was not my only experience.

Before I became an American citizen, back in my home country of Mexico, my parents were killed by a cartel because my father tried to prosecute one of thier high ranking members.

My father had a mountain of evidence and was moving forward with the case.

The police arrested the guy and a day later he was released.

The reason he was released was because my father had to drop the charges.

He was a kind man that always tried to stand up for what is right.

But when his secretary was taken by the cartel, he had no choice but give in to thier demands.

If only it ended there...

That woman was never released and shortly after our house was attacked.

My father died fighting back with a pistol in his hand.

My mother... well I'd rather not talk about it.

I, however was taken out of Mexico City and tortured on some farm until I obeyed.

I had no choice but to accept thier brainwashing and keep my real thoughts to myself.

I was put on a plantation and treated like a slave.

Food and water were scarce and we were only given enough to stay alive and work.

I eventually decided to try and move up in that organization.

If I could go from a slave to a full fledged member then I could have an opportunity to escape.

So, after a year and improving the guards opinion of me, I asked to be trained and become another foot soldier.

I was luckily granted this request and became a child soldier.

For several years I was forced to do all manner of things I hated.

I eventually was able to fake my death after breaking the cocaine addiction they forced on me.

I just wanted a better life and to be free. I wasn't a super powered person that could get revenge on an entire cartel.

At 15, I pretended to be shot during a huge firefight with a rival gang that showed disrespect to our cartel.

I escaped and crossed the border into America where another guy that escaped before me had gone.

He already had connections and I spoke with him in secret for over a year setting this up.

He joined a small time gang in New York and they gave me a pretty good deal.

They gave me a stolen identity and I worked hard enough to save money to pay them back and go to law school to be a lawyer like my father.

I was successful and paid my dues to the gang yearly since they actually didn't do violent crime. And they helped alot of refugees start a new life, because they themselves were the same at one point.

I was very picky with my clients when I joined a large lawfirm after graduation.

Everything I went through molded me into a person that seems to be split into halves of light and dark.

I yearned to be a good man like my father. But I was haunted by the dark I was forced to live in growing up.

I had a lot of guilt which transformed into various levels of rage when around certain triggers.

From what I have observed, this man Ban Franco, has given me several reasons to hate him, not including sending his goons after me.

He has several types of goods smuggled daily in his secret port.

The place reminded me of the Goonies where the pirate ship was inside a big ass cave.

I would be actually impressed with thier operation... if they weren't smuggling women and children.

His drug houses in the slums are producing low quality powder than seemed to affect people like heroine.

The biggest problem with that is the drugs are low quality and have many impurities which leads to a high chance of death.

I also killed the info broker...

Yeah... that guy turned out to be a pedo. He was bribed with young boys by Franco and in exchange gave them info on any "marks".

The victims of his abuse were given back to Franco for disposal or reselling.

I went through every business that Franco was involved in and began taking all of his people "behind the shed."

As a aspiring god, I cant let the mortals do all the work, can I?

Various times a day, I've been crapping on the guys head.

The first day he hid in his mansion, but that didn't stop me.

He started carrying around an umbrella as he struggled to deal with my outside attacks on his business.

But the wind would always blow it away just before a crap landed on him.

He started sleeping in a raincoat as if I couldn't find a way to poop on his exposed face...

Now the fouth day, he is physically and mentally exhausted. His little empire crumbling to the sea and all he can do is throw a tantrum.

The only reason he has any control over the remaining members of his gang is that he has devil fruit powers.

But even that didn't stop many from turning thier back on him.

I scurried through his mansion as a lowly rat and observed how this man was falling apart.

I didn't think there was anything left for me in Frauce but my stay here has been fun.

Tonight I will make my weekly wish and then be on my way to the calm belt.

But first...

.-.-3rd-.-.

Ban Franco was huddled in a corner of his room with a blank look on his face.

He was utterly defeated.

His businesses in Pierre were sabotaged and were now unrecoverable.

Ninety percent of his people have abandoned him, and now he heard mountains of evidence have found thier way to his cousin, the queen.

Franco had tried to escape, but a sea king attacked his ships whenever he tried.

Eventually he gave up and holed up in his mansion, waiting for the guards to come take him away to the capital for trial.

"A bit down on your luck?"

A voice called out to him causing him to tense up.

"W-whos there?" Franco asked cautiously as he looked around the room.

"Over here."

Franco then followed the voice and widened his eyes in horror.

Perched on the curtain rod was a familiar falcon.

"You?!" Franco's eyes nearly popped out, as he realized the same bird that's been shitting on him was now talking to him.

He rubbed his eyes and blinked, before anger set in.

"It's you... the bird that has been defecating on me! I'll kill you!" He roared.

"Hehehe, your ugly face makes a good target. You should blame your parents for giving you crappy genes."

Franco stood from his position but then nearly doubled over.

"Why... am I so... dizzy...?"

The falcon puffed out his feathers with pride and answered, "That's because you were bitten by a venomous spider a few minutes ago. You were so zoned out, guess you didn't notice. It's one of the ones I learned about that inhabit a certain island on the grand line. That spider's venom first disorients and then paralyzes the victim. Then comes the silent agony of slow death filled with pain and you won't even be able to scream. I almost feel bad for you."

Franco tried to make sense of what the talking falcon was saying but his body began to feel heavy like a stone and a cold pain erupted from his entire body.

His eyes turned bloodshot as he screamed internally. He wanted nothing more than to die at this moment.