Mob Sorcery 5 - Ch44

Vince knew Pola had awakened because she sent him a photo of her tits with the glowing scar of runes stretched across one.

Do you think it’d look better if I got a tattoo along the sides? Fia thinks I’m being dumb, the accompanying message read.

You look great, he replied without a second thought. Why the tattoo idea?

A lot of the old capos got tattoos around or over any scars. I figured… Her message trailed off, and he wondered if she meant to send it.

When she didn’t delete it instantly, he decided to reply anyway.

Don’t do something because a bunch of grumpy old men did it to look cool, he said. Do it because you think it’ll look cool. Fia has a big tattoo. Talk to her about it and actually listen.

Okay, Pola replied back, with an odd lack of fire.

Her barrage of lovey-dovey emojis was also out-of-character for her. None of them included a “miss you” emoji or anything like that, but he did wish he was back in the condo to give her a hug.

He frowned and responded with, How are you feeling? but got no response. He at least sent back a “love you” emoji.

Unfortunately, Alessia meant business tonight. Shortly after lunch she’d dragged him into Albion to get a suit custom-fit in an old-fashioned store that felt like customers needed to pass a credit check to enter. An elderly wolffolk man had greeted him and Alessia at the door, sized Vince up, then whisked him out back with his younger apprentice.

Vince had played suit model while Alessia and Nina umm’d and ahh’d over which style fit him best. Fit, lapel, fabric, color, and even the number of buttons apparently mattered. They’d gushed over a jacket with an intricate Chinese dragon and wolf swirling about on the inner lining.

Once they settled on his suit, Vince was left alone with the apprentice tailor—who appeared skilled enough to run her own store—while the others sized up Nina against her protests. He didn’t get to watch, sadly.

Eventually, Alessia returned just in time to watch him remain stone-faced while the tailor measured his in-seam.

“You don’t have to pretend she didn’t just touch your balls,” Alessia said.

The apprentice tailor shot her a look. “I’ll leave the fondling to you, Lady Lionetti.”

Vince barely maintained his composure alongside Lucia while Alessia spluttered.

“I didn’t think tonight would be this formal,” Vince asked. “Shouldn’t I be wearing my enforcer gear?”

“Wear what you can beneath the suit,” Alessia said. “Your collared shirts are good enough, and most of your tools are either hidden or look the part. Like that ring.” She pointed at his teleport ring. “But there’s a formal dinner before the actual meeting. This is the first time the Lionettis and any clan from Houou have met to discuss anything since they murdered my father. It’s historic.”

He bit his lip, and even the tailor froze for a moment.

“I take it you’re bringing a lot of security,” he said.

“Only enough to make a statement.” She crossed her legs, eyes firmly fixed on him as the tailor continued working on the suit, adding pins, and marking the fabric. Their conversation was occasionally interrupted by the tailor, but only when necessary.

“You trust the Miuras already?” Vince asked. “I mean, I don’t think they’ll try something, but…” He left their history unsaid.

“Hardly. We’re meeting in neutral territory on the waterfront and I’ve asked June to provide security, as the police can’t be trusted. The presence of the State Police will keep the public out, but also mean Houou can’t act without provoking the ire of the city.”

His eyebrows shot up, and the tailor admonished him for moving. “Can the governor do that?”

“Kochhar has approved the request, so yes. The State Police picked up the leftovers of the city’s homegrown defense project after we became a real state, in large part because nobody wanted the mages in it to be in the National Guard and the reach of the President,” Alessia explained. “A wise decision right now. Politically, mobilizing the State Police will be noticed, but it will be overshadowed by general conglomerate politics and Davis being Davis.”

He nodded. “So, I need to wear a suit to look good in front of the cameras.”

Alessia’s expression hardened. “No, Vince. I want you to look like a Lionetti in front of a rival conglomerate.” She paused and looked away, regret flitting across her face. “Sorry. But you’re my foremost enforcer and… my boyfriend, even if that’s private knowledge.”

The tailor smirked, but said nothing. Lucia winked at her. Something told Vince the suits he saw the enforcers wear sometimes came from this place.

“Like I said, there’ll be a dinner before the actual meeting. Nothing of interest will occur there, but it matters for appearance. We’ll move to a private room to discuss our business,” Alessia continued.

By the time evening rolled around, Vince tried not to look uncomfortable in his new dark suit. It fit better than almost anything he’d ever worn, although he still wore the enchanted collared shirts he’d gotten from Ashley and Salome.

Nina’s suit was lighter in color, but still dark. Her massive bust proved a challenge. Unlike him, she wore a purple tie that matched her eyes. Apparently it would draw attention away from her chest. Vince remained unconvinced.

Lucia and the other wolfgirls wore matching suits, just like always. They’d tied their tails behind themselves as they stepped out of the SUVs, and Lucia led Alessia along the plaza that led to the restaurant.

The state police formed a cordon, and a small gathering of people and reporters gathered near them. Each of the police wore an elegant black uniform, a blindfold, and a wand on their hip, and were women. Rumors suggested they came from a supersoldier program the mage colleges created, and Alessia’s earlier comment reinforced Vince’s belief that was true.

A fancy French restaurant overlooked the harbor with plentiful outdoor seating behind decorative wrought iron fences. Multiple people waited for them to approach out front, including the head waiter and a familiar seven-tailed fox.

“Are you Hyuga or his brother?” Vince asked as they approached.

“I could lie and you’d never know.” The Miura twin winked at them. “But I am Hyuga. Hirata is inside.”

The waiter led them inside to a massive section set aside in the rear corner of the restaurant. Other guests watched under the careful eye of the state police. Given the short notice, Vince shouldn’t have been surprised the restaurant continued to run. He struggled to imagine how much this might cost. No doubt he’d discover at some point either Houou or Alessia owned the damn place.

Toya, the other Miura twin, and several other foxes sat at a long wooden table, complete with candelabra and flowers in ostentatious vases. The foxes rose as Vince and Alessia approached, but only some walked up to them.

Vince spotted more familiar faces here than he expected. Especially a golden seven-tail fox with amber eyes in a mini white dress covered by what almost looked like cotton candy.

“I expected to meet with the Miura Clan, not half of Houou,” Alessia said, her voice like ice as Momo approached.

“Let’s not pretend this only affects one clan,” Momo said. “Events are moving swiftly. I’m here for the meeting, not the dinner, but you’ll understand the politics later.”

Alessia’s lips thinned, but she nodded. Both women curtsied to one another. While Alessia’s navy blue gown was gorgeous, and left Vince plenty to admire, particularly with the onyxes sparkling along its edges, Momo’s dress hewed to an entirely different style. Ironic that the more conservative Inaba twin wore such extreme dresses in public.

A six-tail fox took Momo’s place. Her white tails bore pink tips, and Vince suspected they were dyed. A matching pink pattern of flames shined within the black fabric of her form-fitting China dress.

“Lady Alessia Lionetti, it’s been a number of years since we’ve met,” the fox said. “Do I need to reintroduce myself?”

“No.” Alessia smiled, but her eyes were like ice. “Sakura Fujiwara. Saito’s eldest daughter. I’m surprised you’d come here.”

“A greeting I deserve.” Sakura bowed her head. “I can’t represent the Fujiwaras or my father tonight. Consider me a personal representative, but things will change over the coming months, and not everyone has agreed that building a house as bloodstained as our retreat from Japan has been wise.”

Alessia showed no visible reaction, but Vince swore her eyes softened. “I see. Perhaps there will be more to speak of one day.”

Sakura’s eyes turned to Vince and she bowed to him. “Sir Vincent.”

He almost corrected the way she referred to him, but stopped himself. She already walked away, her six pink-tipped tails held perfectly still behind her.

“I feel I should know about her,” he said.

“Not especially,” Alessia said. “As influential as the Fujiwara family is, Saito has kept his family out of Houou’s business. She runs a dojo on an invitation-only basis.”

“I did two months of lessons there,” Nina said, a grumpy expression crossing her face. “And she doesn’t even remember me. Made googly eyes at you, though.” She glowered at Vince.

Googly eyes wasn’t how he’d describe Sakura’s expression when she’d looked at him. She reminded him of Teru, but more composed. The fierce will of a warrior lay behind her pink orbs.

Other foxes stepped up to talk with Alessia, but none appeared to be important. Toya remained standing in the far corner with both Miura twins at his side.

Vince spotted a towering figure enter the restaurant that he hadn’t expected. After a quick glance at Lucia and Alessia, who waved him away, he wandered up to the newcomer.

“I didn’t think you did fieldwork anymore,” he said as he approached. “Not unless you need to intimidate some police.”

Garn Trippych smirked, a lit cigar in one hand and his wolfgirl wife, Sylvia, in the other.

“What sort of media baron would I be if I missed a moment like this?” the former mageweight champion pointed his cigar at Alessia and the foxes. “Sylvia, go say hi to Alessia.”

“Don’t cause a scene,” Sylvia warned her husband before slipping away.

“Should I be worried?” Vince asked, suddenly aware he was speaking alone with a very powerful man who ran one of the largest media conglomerates in the country.

“You should always be worried around the press, but Sylvia would crush my balls if I pissed off Alessia by publicly revealing your new relationship. Congratulations, by the way.” Trippych clapped Vince on the back. “You’ve gained a lot of confidence since we first met over Christmas. I was impressed by your fire the other night, when everything was going to hell, and now you’re coming up to me without prompting. Your future is bright.”

Vince kept his face neutral, but shuffled awkwardly. Or maybe it was the suit. “Thanks. I think. But why are you here? This feels too private for the press.”

“It is. Nothing I hear or see will make it into my papers or news reports. But it helps to have my finger on the pulse.” Trippych tapped his wrist for effect between cigar puffs. “I’ll need to make a lot of calls soon about coverage as things heat up. Knowing the players and how things are changing between Houou and the Lionettis is vital to reading the winds. Propaganda is useless if I’m pushing an outdated slant. Nothing is more laughable than seeing empty-headed fools waiting for the party line.”

“Is that really all you see your empire as? Propaganda?” Vince asked. “You’ve been critical as hell of it in general, so why bother building it to begin with?”

“Because it will always exist.” Trippych’s eyes matched the darkness of his words. “I became a mageweight champion boxer as Aulfair found its feet as a state, and the vested interests in the rest of the country hated me as much as they feared Aulfair’s influence. Supposedly respectable newspapers treated me worse than athletes caught doping. If the Fourth Estate ever hewed to its self-aggrandized image of defending liberty and truth, it stopped well before I got involved.”

“Yet when the cops push against your reporters, you hit back just as hard.”

“Fair point,” Trippych said. “I hire locally and promote internally, and I respect the work a lot of them put in. The empty-headed fools you see on TV are little more than actors. I pay columnists worse than Wings does its fliers. But the newsbirds getting me the news on the ground are irreplaceable, and losing them means I just have to make shit up. It’s what half the news out of Asia is these days.”

Vince frowned and turned to only half-face the media baron. Both of them watched as Alessia hugged Sylvia, before both of them greeted Goro and his bodyguard, Cora. Vince grimaced when Goro tried to point at him, only for Cora to pull his arm down.

“You’re building influence,” Trippych noted. “I don’t control social media, despite all the conspiracy theories. Bots only go so far to manipulate that morass. You’ll understand why I do what I do, and why the mob works with me, sooner than I figured.”

“Thanks,” Vince said drily.

Trippych took a long puff of his cigar, and his gaze turned distant. “You suggested I don’t do fieldwork, but I still do. Having a wife like Sylvia, who talks about her time as sottocapo personally cracking heads, reminds me that you shouldn’t get too distant from the trenches.”

“You’re half as rich as Alessia these days. I call bullshit.”

“I’m personally handling the slant of the Davis shit, and especially the civil war.” The media baron snorted. “There’s a simpler reason. I don’t trust journalists. I built my empire from next to nothing, and it reflects my values. There was no family legacy, with a well-to-do old man telling me how vital we are to democracy while printing outright lies. What I’ve built reflects what I saw and grew up with, and schmoozing with rich assholes for thirty-plus years hasn’t changed my mind. I try not to let the gold chains make me stupid.”

Vince narrowed his eyes. “If you don’t like legacies and silver spoons, why side with the mafia?”

“They helped bring me up from nothing. I’m not Alessia’s slave, but so long as the Lionettis still walk the talk, I’ll set aside my opinions.” Trippych grinned. “Besides, there are always bigger enemies. You know, four years ago, an investigative journalism award went to a story that arguably dismantled Davis’s leading political opponent. They handed out the award despite a story I ran two weeks earlier revealing the story was planted by the Davis campaign, and everyone knew. Those same self-congratulatory assholes are gearing up to pretend they care about balance again. Aulfair has always been in their sights.”

The media baron puffed on his cigar and patted Vince on the shoulder before joining Alessia and the others. Vince watched him go with conflicting thoughts.

Somehow, Trippych felt more like a demon than Quintus during these conversations. Perhaps it was the man’s naked disregard for the veneer of civility that the demons liked. Quintus operated in shadows, while Trippych bulldozed everything to get his way. Even Trippych’s ambitions were bare to all.

“Sometimes the most dangerous man isn’t the one who stabs you in the back, but the one who stabs you in the front,” Daji said. “Garn Trippych is a revolutionary waiting for his revolution to start, and without an emperor to back. Maybe he’ll never find one. Hopefully whatever alliances you build do not invoke his ire.”

Everyone eventually sat for the meal, which was elaborately explained by the waiter. The seating arrangements appeared intentional, with Vince on Alessia’s left, and Trippych to her right. Nina and Lucia were further to his left, away from Toya and Momo, who sat opposite Alessia and Trippych. Vince guessed being seated on the left side of the table indicated some degree of social inferiority, but he struggled to decode why Trippych and Momo sat to the farthest right.

The food was exceptional, and also came in very small servings, albeit with a half-glass of matching wine. Each course came with an overly long explanation of the ingredients, including the source, in both French and English. The nods from the foxes suggested most of them spoke French, and Alessia as well.

While Vince certainly enjoyed the wine, he struggled with the food. He followed Alessia’s lead regarding how to eat each dish and which cutlery to use. Especially when it came to the scallop served in a ceramic appetizer spoon covered in butter or the snail—sorry, the escargot, as the waiter called it. Vince had to admit it didn’t taste like a snail, or like anything other than the garlic and butter he ate it with.

The table consumed itself with small talk about history, art, business affairs, and the quality of the performances over Lunar New Year and the Japanese equivalent. Vince remained largely quiet, save for when Momo and Sakura engaged him in conversation about his new home.

While the topic sent a message in and of itself, as it meant all of Houou knew he’d moved, it at least let him speak. Unfortunately, he noticed a few arrogant smirks from other foxes. Likely because Vince spoke of a relatively normal home by their standards as a mansion. Sakura nearly shifted the conversation to where he used to live, before Goro interrupted to talk about her dojo. Vince didn’t miss Goro’s knowing nod.

Goro might appear naïve, but he understood this realm of weirdly political small talk better than Vince.

Eventually, some real food arrived after a soup dish the waiter called “bisque.” A thinly sliced rare steak came out with thick-cut fries and a jammy onion sauce. Vince genuinely wondered if someone had broken into the kitchen and replaced the real main course with this one, given the abrupt shift from hoity toity fine dining to a hearty steak and fries. Even if it came with a red wine whose vineyard he wasn’t even going to try to pronounce.

Finally, after the waiters cleared the steak, the small talk dwindled away. All eyes turned to Toya, who had remained almost completely silent all night.

“Shall we take coffee and dessert in a private room?” Toya asked, staring at Alessia. “I’ve arranged for a room upstairs where we will be undisturbed, and the owner has agreed to bring the plate of petits fours to us.”

“Of course. Lead the way,” Alessia said.

The public aspect of the event ended so abruptly Vince almost missed the way the other foxes vanished into thin air. Only Sakura said a proper goodbye to Alessia and Vince before teleporting away.

Upstairs, they entered a room with tinted windows that overlooked the harbor and appeared to be for parties. Momo, Nina, and the Miura twins began casting wards the second they entered.

Toya sat down without ceremony while Cora and Lucia made coffee using coffee machines to the side. The two bodyguards glanced at each other while they worked, then teamed up.

Of the foxes, only the main Miuras remained. Toya, the twins, Goro, and Cora. Momo had come along, but all other foxes left. On Alessia’s side, she’d left most of her bodyguards outside and Trippych had left with his wife.

“I’d apologize for the circus, but I feel I was the most hard done by of all of us,” Toya said as he gestured for Alessia to sit. “This isn’t my field, Alessia. Even if it’s been forced on me.”

“It’s an important moment, especially if other clans are coming,” Alessia said. “I assume that means I should assume the worst.”

“That depends on what your worst assumption is.” Toya grinned. “What would you assume to be the worst, Vince? Goro?”

Goro frowned. “That we’re doing nothing despite everything happening around us, and a Yakuza traitor within reach.”

Toya raised an eyebrow at Vince, and Alessia looked at him. As did several others.

“That this is an ambush,” Vince said drily.

Peals of laughter erupted from Toya. “At least someone understands true danger. Politics is nebulous, but betrayal must always be on a warrior’s mind. Keep that in mind, Goro.”

Goro’s cheeks reddened, but Cora forced a cup of coffee on him and a small plate with tiny desserts before he said anything. The young fox struggled with his lack of a third hand, distracting him.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Alessia said, annoyed.

“You need to be more straightforward with the old coot,” Momo said as she approached. “He’s not lying when he says he dislikes politics. We’re secure here. Cut the crap.”

“Then I will, and ask what you are doing here.” Alessia narrowed her eyes.

“Protecting an investment.” Momo nodded her head at Vince. “More than that, this is about Mei more than the civil war. Recent developments mean that Houou and Inaba have both pulled out of trying to deal with Mei, and it leaves Anzu and me in a difficult position.”

“Have you still been ordered to stay out of it?” Vince asked.

When the Miura twins and Toya frowned, he realized they hadn’t fully understood the depth of his involvement with Anzu and Momo. Best to keep it that way.

“That’s why I’m here,” Momo said. “Houou effectively collapsed this morning, and Inaba are taking the situation as it stands.”

Toya cleared his throat before she said more, as Alessia appeared confused. “Our opposition, the Miyoshi clan, officially protested Saito Fujiwara’s intransigence and recent treatment of the Lionetti Family. The fact you defeated a Qilin on par with a clan guardian is justification that you’re rising to the level of a true conglomerate once again. They argued Saito erred by punishing Masaki Hatoyama for his rash actions against you, instead of supporting him.”

Alessia visibly bristled, and her tail rose behind her. She’d kept it stock still most of the night, making the movement highly noticeable to Vince.

“Mei is vulnerable, and the Miyoshi clan moves to protect her?” Alessia asked. “We know someone in Houou has been actively dragging the conflict with her out, but this feels one step short of active betrayal.”

The expressions on the foxes turned into stone, save Momo, who gave Toya a pointed look.

“It’s a momentous claim to suggest any of our clans are working with the betrayers who slew our families and drove us from our homeland,” Toya said. “The Miyoshi clan’s behavior disquiets me, but without hard proof I’ll go no further. Mei is considered less dangerous than the Qilin by most.”

“I think we’re willfully ignoring the obvious,” Momo said.

“If you have hard proof, even Saito would act.” Toya glared at the gold-tailed fox. “Or have you forgotten that he lost a wife to Knightsgate? He wouldn’t even leave remains of any fox foolish enough to betray us to our greatest foes.”

Momo grimaced and looked away.

Toya sighed and took a long sip of his coffee. “To cut a long story short, the Miyoshi clan’s plan has failed. They expected the Yakuza to tie up enforcers and wished to remove Vince from the equation. By protesting against Saito, they’ll trigger the vote for the next clan leader.”

“Will he lose the position?” Vince asked. “Even though it’s an obvious ploy? Surely you can keep him in it for longer.”

“Saito doesn’t plan to contest it. He’s scheduled the meeting for Wednesday next week,” Momo explained. “Even if he did, it might not buy time. The Miyoshi’s are merely being polite. This is the start of a formal process. If we try to short-circuit it without strong reasoning, the civil war will just start anyway.”

“If they’re claiming the Lionettis are a huge threat, are we going to be targeted?” Nina asked.

Hyuga shook his head. “Nah. That’d be insane. You’re just a good excuse to kick things off.”

“As interesting as this is, I know you aren’t asking for my support in an internal conflict of Houou’s,” Alessia said. “You mentioned Mei explicitly.”

Toya nodded. “The incoming civil war is a backdrop. With the Miyoshi’s actions, the Golden Path all but collapsed this morning and we withdrew from Yakuza territory. But Vince approached Hyuga with a proposal to have Goro assist him defeat Mei. I understand that Immanuel has lent their assistance as well?”

“They have,” Alessia said.

“Then it would be remiss if Houou sat back and did nothing to rout our foes, given Knightsgate are our problem.”

“Are you only sending Goro?” Momo asked, half-pouting.

“There is a civil war coming,” Hyuga joked.

Vince ran a hand down his face. “Right. Inaba barred you and Anzu from fighting Mei if no other clan guardians helped. I feel Quintus would know some fancy sociology theory to explain this, but it’s that nobody will take the first step.”

“As much as I want Mei dealt with, I can’t risk my clan’s security and the future of Houou for minor revenge,” Toya said.

“It would be more than minor revenge,” Momo said, then sighed.

“For reference, it’s known as a social dilemma,” Alessia told Vince. “Cooperation is better than acting individually, or not at all. Individuals refusing to vote because their single vote means nothing, resulting in collective disappointment when nothing changes, is a classic example.”

“Thanks for calling us good-for-nothing lazy bastards,” Hyuga joked.

“As someone risking a great deal to do something, you’re welcome.” Alessia smiled sweetly, then scowled at Toya. “I welcome all assistance, but is this it?”

“Any alliance between us is historic,” Toya said. He leaned backward and looked at Momo. “However, Goro is the clan heir. He needs a clan guardian to accompany him and guarantee his safety, even if they don’t participate in the hunt.”

Momo blinked, then grinned. “Oh? So you can handle politics.”

“Warriors learn how to work around the restrictions the elders place on them.” Toya’s mustache wiggled. “I also believe you’ll need a way to restrict Mei’s movements. Enforcers and another purifier will accompany Hyuga and Goro in order to ward the area. Although I recommend preparing your own wards, too.”

“We already have,” Vince said. “More are welcome. Mei’s teleportation will be trouble.”

“Don’t expect any of us to block her short-range teleportation,” Toya warned. “With eight tails, she’ll be able to move far further than you’ll expect.”

“I fought her, even if she wasn’t taking me seriously. I’m aware of how much ass she can kick.”

The clan head inclined his head.

“Is that enough for you to help?” Alessia asked Momo.

“Maybe.” Momo sighed. “Let’s be real, the Inaba elders don’t want us fighting Mei. Not with so much on the line as it is. I’ll work with Anzu to sweet-talk them, but I expect our assistance will be limited. It’s possible…” She bit her lip and glanced at Vince. “You attracted a lot of attention last night. It’s funny how fast Anzu’s fascination with you went from something the elders ignored to a brilliant plan.”

That boded poorly. Wasn’t the idea to avoid direct attention from Inaba, because they’d kill him?

“Bosses love to take credit for ideas they trashed the day before,” Nina said. “I take it you’re going to dangle Vince in front of them like a carrot?”

“Anzu doesn’t like sharing.” Momo shot Toya a look, and the old clan head snorted. “But I think it will happen. If Vince is going to help defend the Miuras in the future, it benefits the Inaba clan to keep him alive, and some minor assistance against Mei isn’t a big deal. Especially as she should be easier to deal with than Kigenai in their minds.”

“I doubt that,” Vince said.

Momo frowned. “The Qilin was vastly more dangerous than I expected. Perhaps it was your inexperience that allowed her to cast the mirror, but I’d expect a fight on par with her, not worse. Either way, make extensive preparations.”

“Indeed.” Toya stood. “Enjoy the coffee and desserts, Alessia. We will speak after Mei is dealt with, regardless of the results.”

They did not stay to enjoy the coffee and desserts. Alessia waited for the foxes to leave, before gathering everyone and returning to the SUVs. She glared at the ceiling.

“I take it you wanted more,” Vince said.

“After all that bullshit, I expected more,” Nina said. “God, I hate the immortal bullshit of ‘we have time and can let mortals do it for us.’ Didn’t Mei get their families killed?”

“Maybe living for centuries inures you against vengeance,” Alessia said sarcastically. “Except for all the bitter, vindictive immortals we know about. I appreciate the Miuras not being arrogant psychopaths like so many foxes, but it annoys me that I find Anzu more… human.”

“Kiho said that a lot of foxes are finding their ordinary lives more interesting than their old duties,” Vince said. “I wonder if that affects them. Toya is conversative as hell, and the Miura twins seem unwilling to act decisively.”

“They’re a clan known for doing very little, despite their powerful warriors, so that makes sense.” Alessia sighed. “But allies are allies. We need them, especially after what nearly happened to Pola.”

Speaking of the wolfgirl, Vince checked his phone to see a few messages from Pola. The latest one featured a selfie of her and Fia in t-shirts on the penthouse sofa.

“I think you’ll need to drop me off at the penthouse,” Vince said. “A puppy wants company.”

- - - - -

Commentary: Fox politics. This is the last real setup before the climax, as next chapter is fluffy.

The Miuras will matter a fair bit in the coming arc, and they help humanize Houou. They're intended to represent the idea of warriors who are used to acting on orders and showing restraint, especially after two centuries of chaos in Japan, but that leaves them more passive than they arguably should be (raising the question of when inaction is worse than action, which comes up in the first appearance of Goro and Toya, but it's flipped here, as Goro is now acting to help Vince instead of hinder him).