Chapter 120 - 116: Declaration Of War

Chapter 120: Chapter 116: Declaration Of War

Author's Note: I f*cked up and didn't copy and paste the right part for the last Chapter 115 so I acutally recommand you go back and read it since I'm a dumbass and only put half the Chapter. I'm acutally sorry and didn't realize it until I was rereading some stuff.

Later that night,

"Aye Vito be careful, the streets are hot." One of the guys warned Vito only to receive a scoff, waving him off as he turned away.

"Listen, the only thing that's about to be hot is the muzzle point at my forehead if I don't get to work on time tomorrow." Vito laughed, shaking his head with a degrading sigh as one of the men frowned.

"That banana's sure keeps you on a leash-"

"Aye, woah, you tryna get your head busted open?" Vito asked the man, waving his hand while looking either way.

"I thought it was a myth, a joke?" The man asked Vito, surprised as he lit another cigarette and offered one to Vito who politely refused.

"Ain't nothing about getting your head split open by Joe's barefist funny, let me tell ya." Vito sighed, shaking his head while feeling a little queasy just thinking about that day.

"Ya know, I was eating a meatball sub when Joe cracked that poor guy's head open." Vito held his stomach, feeling it churn from the memory as the others laughed.

"Not after that I'm sure." The guys all laughed, busting his balls as Vito waved them off while walking towards his care.

"Alright take care Vito, see ya tomorrow!" The guys waved down Vito who walked towards his car, opening it before hesitating as he turned the fob.

Car bombings weren't commonplace for most mobsters, but during street tensions like the current ones, even Vito found himself on edge.

However, as his car roared to life, a sigh of relief escaped his lips, until he suddenly caught something out of the corner of his eye.

"What the hell?" Vito muttered in exasperation while looking at a crow, sitting in his passenger seat before the bird pointed its wing behind him.

*Click*

"Don't move."

Those cold words were spoken, and Vito's entire body froze as the sound of a revolver echoed in his ears.

"Drive."

That word seeped into Vito's mind as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes instinctively darting to the rearview mirror, only to find it tilted upward, skewing any reflection behind him.

It was then that the cold barrel pressed against the back of his neck, a shuddering breath escaping his lips.

"Now."

"O-Okay, okay," Vito's shaky voice echoed, his foot slowly pressing on the gas as the car lurched forward, the atmosphere hanging in dead silence.

"Take a right."

Vito felt the cold steel pressed into the back of his neck, his hands instinctively steering the car to the right as it followed the direction.

The pattern repeated, the car moving in sync with Vito's actions, guided by the chilling threat of those words, until they finally arrived at an empty pier.

"Put the car in park."

Vito followed easily, hanging his head as he wondered if this was how it all ended—dying in an empty parking lot.

He thought about what would happen to his family, who might attend his funeral, but most of all, he wondered if he was heading straight for hell.

"Please wait, I-"

*BAM*

Vito attempted to turn his head, but a fist crashed into his eye socket with brutal force.

The knuckles shattered his zygomatic bone, sending small fractures splintering through his skull. His eyes rolled back, and darkness swiftly consumed him.

However, before his head could fall forward onto the horn, the man behind him reached forward, grabbing his collar and pulling him back, revealing that familiar figure to be Ricky.

"I thought the plan was to use Chester to turn him, I am confused?" Alexander popped out of Ricky's shirt pocket, scratching his head in confusion.

"Alexander is right. Although I am still influencing Rockefeller, his mind has deteriorated so much that it's become insignificant at best." Chester glanced toward Ricky, who stood with his ominous Necromniam hovering beside him.

"Can you do this another five times in a row, not counting this one?" Ricky asked Chester, raising an eyebrow as the crow beside him opened and closed its beak.

"Not in a row, no." Chester admitted, watching the hovering book flip to a page inscribed with Ricky's blood.

"Then are you going to use some sort of spell?" Chester wondered, pointing his wing towards the book as Ricky shook his head.

"But wouldn't that boss notice a change in behavior, especially in a time of peril?" Alexander wondered out loud, the familiar making Ricky sigh as he held up his hand that glowed in a faint green hue.

"First of all, it is a spell but it doesn't change his behavior-well, ok it sort of does." Ricky was about to refute Alexander before changing his words, thinking about it a little more.

"Basically, this spell creates a body double while he's asleep, forming another consciousness that follows the orders I implant." Ricky explained, hovering his hand above Vito as green energy seeped into his face.

"It'll be up and watching everything Vito does, then when he goes to sleep it will take control of his body and call Lucky while feeding him information." Ricky waved his finger, smiling at his plan but the two familiar side-eyed each other.

"This seems too easy."

"I concur."

The two familiar weren't convinced, looking at Ricky since his words made it seem almost too easy.

"The plan's full proof, ask away, I can take it." Ricky gestured towards him, smirking at the two familiars who raised their eyebrows at his taunt.

"Does the spell need to be reapplied-"

"No, I asked my baby momma for the one that uses life force to sustain the conscience." Ricky raised his chin to Chester, already preparing for this one.

"Wouldn't there be changes to the personality traits of those affected? And wouldn't someone like Joe be on edge enough to notice this?" Chester asked, considering that someone as perceptive and psychotic as Joe would be suspicious of any sudden changes in behavior.

"First of all, the only thing that changes is the sleep patterns and even if it did change them to any degree, I'm not going after any of Joe's direct hands." Ricky laughed out, looking at Vito with a widening smile.

"This is Vito DeLuca, the right hand of Joe's right hand." Ricky chuckled out, Chester looking at Vito since he knew that the name rang a faint bell rather than a direct one.

"Will the spell function long enough and if it does, how do you know someone won't detect it?" Alexander wondered, walking up to his shoulder and crossing his paws.

"Uh, I doubt they have any magic users within their families since the mafia families are really hateful towards that stuff and it should last like a year but I won't need that long." Ricky honestly wasn't sure if the families could detect magic, but even so, this type of magic couldn't be traced back to him.

"So you lied." Chester crossed his wings as Ricky scoffed, finishing the spell before healing the injuries he inflicted onto Vito.

"I didn't lie, I'm just not a hundred percent sure-"

"Seems very irresponsible to say something is full proof when, in fact, it isn't. What do you think, Alexander?" Chester looked over at Alexander who raised his furry chin, smirking at Ricky who frowned.

"I concur." Alexander smugly said, both familiar giving him a look that read complete victory as it showed his plan wasn't completely full proof as he previously stated.

"I concur~" Ricky mocked under his breath, spewing out a hateful whisper before finishing as he exited the car.

"There, there, Ricky. Not everyone can muster up full proof plans." Alexander tapped his paw on Ricky's cheek, rubbing it in his face in the metaphorical and literal sense.

"Exactly, in fact, your efforts in thinking this far is more than commendable." Chester landed on his other chester, patting his slicked back hair with his wing.

"You guys suck." Ricky hatefully spewed out, annoyed that his mood was trampled on this easily as he suddenly took off into the air with his wings.

"But it is a good first step, information and being one step ahead is always crucial in times of war, remember that." Alexander was serious this time, commending Ricky's efforts as Chester soared in the air next to him.

"Alexander is right, it is good to get a handle on the internal factors of the family instead of rushing in, though a more thought of plan would have made me more at ease." Chester gave a passive aggressive jab towards Ricky, his eyebrow twitching in annoyance at this remark.

"Don't you f*cking say it Alexander-"

"I concur." Alexander triumphantly spoke out before Ricky could finish, leaving the man flying in the air incredibly annoyed.

"Screw you guys."

While Ricky implanted body doubles into the minds of the six right-hand men, he had to endure the incessant, insufferable nagging of his familiars before finally completing the task.

Opening the door to Alina's bedroom, Ricky found her curled up under a soft glow from her nightlight, engrossed in a book and as she looked up at him, her expression shifting to surprise.

"Ricky, are you alright?" Alina asked, watching him slump onto the bed and collapse face-first into the mattress.

"I got f*cking bullied by a gerbil and a crow," Ricky muttered, his face buried in the sheets as his attempt to be the bully had backfired completely, leaving him to eat his words the entire night.

"O-Oh?" Alina murmured uncertainty, not fully understanding but tentatively cooing at Ricky as he crawled onto the bed, burying his face into her ample bosom before letting out a heavy sigh.

"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" Alina asked, slowly stroking his hair as he dug his face into her chest.

"No." Ricky sighed, feeling her motherly warmth before they simply sat there in silence.

"A blowjob might make me feel a little better, if I'm being honest."

Next day,

Throughout the day after spending time with Alina, Ricky meticulously rehearsed his speech, preparing what he would say with Alexander coaching him through it.

"No, no, no, you have to connect with the person in front of you, to the people listening, simply telling them isn't enough, you have to show them, guide them." Alexander explained next to Chester, who nodded agreeing wholeheartedly with his little rodent friend.

"You need to show your sincerity, Ricky, people won't respond otherwise. Humans resonate with emotions, not words." Chester gave his advice as Garfield lounged at the side with a sigh.

However, instead of giving some half-hearted response, Garfield sighed, his mood already in the dumps, it was Monday, after all.

The lawsuit was ready, but the real problem lay in finding a lead counsel since no one they approached was willing to touch the case, not even with a three-foot pole.

That was their biggest issue: finding someone brave enough to step into the hostile public eye and challenge the established way of life.

Ricky decided to put the search for lead counsel on hold until after he made his speech.

He believed that his words could reach a wider audience, potentially tricking someone who genuinely cared about civil rights, rather than relying on high-profile lawyers motivated purely by money since that didn't even work in the first place.

The main problem was that Alexander believed Ricky needed to deliver this speech on his own as if he truly wanted to connect, relying on a dual link wouldn't be enough.

*Sigh*

Ricky could feel the weight of their stares, but he held his ground, unflinching.

"But I will be fighting for my civil rights, to finally be treated the way any other American citizen would be. Thank you, that is all." Ricky spat out the final lies with a practiced ease, suppressing the urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

It was the sheer absurdity of his words that made Ricky feel as though his laughter would erupt at any moment.

To keep his composure, he turned on his heel and made a swift exit, the weight of his own deceit almost too much to bear.

The moment his back was turned, the reporters erupted into a chaotic frenzy, a tsunami of questions crashing down on him.

Flashes from cameras illuminated the scene, broken flash bulbs covering the ground to give their shots a better hue, blinding him as he was hurriedly escorted into the van.

The press was relentless, but Lucky stood at the ready, his eyes filled with a mixture of caution and concern.

He opened the door to the car, nodding at Ricky with a tentative look, knowing all too well what kind of storm they were about to face.

"There ain't going back now kiddo, you ready for this battle." Lucky asked, knowing that Ricky had shut off any means of a peaceful and quiet life as he got into the car.

"Pops, I'm ready for the war." Ricky laughed, leaning back while the car started riving through the droves of journalists pouring all around them.

"Then let's ensemble the war council."

Meanwhile at the white house,

*Knock*

*Knock*

"Come in."

Dewey walked into the Oval Office, his footsteps echoing in the otherwise quiet room.

As he approached, the chair behind the desk slowly spun around to reveal the current president, Franklin D. Roosevelt, who leaned back in his chair, his piercing gaze fixed on Dewey.

"I'm sure you're well aware of the mess you've caused." Roosevelt said, his voice steady but laced with tension, staring at the root of it all.

Dewey ducked his head, a wave of unease washing over him as he shifted uncomfortably under the president's stare.

"Yes, Mr. President." Dewey could only bite his lip, knowing that he was on thin ice as it was and didn't want to push his luck.

"I honestly want to throw you under the bus and resolve this matter, but I've decided against it in light of another factor," Roosevelt continued, his voice unwavering. He raised his gaze, his presence seeming to tower over Dewey as he squinted his eyes, narrowing them with a calculating look.

"You've done more than just stir up a political hornet's nest, Dewey. You've made this personal, you've made it my business." Franklin fist gripped tightly, incredibly annoyed but kept hsi emotions in check.

"Now, it is war, Dewey, on our great nation and that man has finally waged war, and this is the first battle." Franklin's eyes stared dead ahead at him, his mere gaze shriveling Dewey where he stood.

"The case was filed in Texas, this is your mess and for these last three years you've been in the doghouse, but if you win..." Franklin let his word hang in the air, letting Dewey's imagination run wild before he was on the president's hook.

"Then everything you lost will be reinstated, you'll be sent back to New York, and you'll have full reign from my administration to take down the Luciano family and the Commission." Franklin assured him, leaning forward and placing his interlocked fingers in front of his face.

"But if you lose, you're done, gone." Franklin's words were ice cold, reflecting Dewey built his resolve and finally faced the man who almost cost him his career.

"Do you understand?" Franklin asked without asking, forcing Dewey to give him the only answer he wanted to hear.

"Yes Mr. President, I won't let you down." Dewey looked Franklin right in the eye, desperate to do whatever it took to reclaim everything he lost.

"Then get out of here and don't come back until you win or don't come back at all."

Meanwhile in the southern part of California,

Bursting out of the hotel, Raven had a disbelieving smile while rushing towards the street as the memory of Ricky resurfaced through her mind.

"TAXI!" Raven shouted, her voice cutting through the noise as a car screeched to a halt, and she quickly slipped inside.

"What do you need, darling?" the taxi driver asked, glancing back only to have a crumpled dollar bill thrust into his face.

"Here's a twenty, get me to the airport in the fastest way possible." Raven was in a hurry, still showing a wry smile after remembering that stupid sleazy smile of his.

"You got it."

Meanwhile in a darkened room,

Long black nails traced the seams of the radio before her, a subtle gesture that hinted at the influence she wielded in all matters of mutant affairs.

A sly smile, accentuated by her black lipstick, curved across her lips as she tapped the hardwood table rhythmically.

Her luminous purple irises gleamed, drawing attention as she fixed her gaze ahead, exuding an aura of calculated confidence.

"It seems that the Hellfire club needs to be assembled."

Meanwhile at Yale University,

*SIGH*

"Seriously Ricky." Henry leaned back, setting down his text book to rub his forehead.

"And you, we have a meeting in ten minutes!" Henry threw his book at a hungover and currently sleeping, putting his head up.

"Huh, wha-oh, hey Henry-"

"DON'T HEY HENRY ME-"

*Sigh*

"God, you remind me just enough of Ricky to piss me off." Henry laughed out, wiping his mouth before looking at the guy scratching his chin.

"The mutant, right?" The guy asked, resting his head on his hand while looking at the radio.

"Listen Howard, if there's one thing that I learned about Ricky is one thing." Henry held up one finger, standing up and adjusting his sigil that had a skull and bones on it.

"Nothing is as simple as you think it's going to be, the guy is a walking trouble magnet but you'll find that out soon." Henry adjusted his attire only for Howard to laugh, leaning back in his chair.

"You can't be serious, the stuffy jerks won't even consider letting him into the club much less the university-"

"You don't get it, none of you do." Henry looked back at Howard, staring him dead in the eyes as the party boy scoffed.

"The winds of change are blowing and they're blowing in his favor." Henry walked towards a bookcase, pulling down a book and revealing a secret passageway.

"You're so dramatic." Howard sighed, lugging himself up before following Henry into the secret tunnel before the bookcase closed behind him.

Later that afternoon,

"Honey, you can't be serious." The woman said, rubbing her eyes in disbelief.

She watched as the man, sporting a pencil-thin mustache, meticulously adjusted his suit, his expression unbothered.

"Baby, I'm as serious as ever." The man replied with a sly smile, adjusting his tie and straightening his posture as he admired himself in the mirror.

"Don't tell me it has to do with that mutant-"

"Baby, don't you see? It's more than that!" The man stepped closer to his wife, dropping to his knees and gently taking her hands in his.

"Do you remember those nights we dreamed together? The nights we talked about a world where our children wouldn't have to worry about whether they'd be given a fair chance because of the color of their skin?" The man held her hands tenderly, lightly pecking her hands with his lips before looking up at her concerned face.

"I do, but in none of those talks did we ever mention how a mutant is going to change that." She replied, her voice tinged with skepticism.

"Because, baby, this is classified as a civil rights case." He said, his tone firm yet hopeful as he seemingly looked into the distance.

"And with every civil rights case, there's precedent, something to build on. That's how the law works." The man then stood up, puffing out his chest with a determined resolve.

"If this passes, imagine the good it'll do against the racism festering in this nation, this can make a difference, be the difference." He said, his voice charged with conviction.

"Even so, he's still a white boy. How are you going to convince him?" She countered, crossing her arms skeptically and raising an eyebrow, watching the man turn around with a smirk while spreading his arms.

"Baby, I'm Thurgood Marshall, and Thurgood Marshall's gonna get this case."

Later that Night,

"So, that's how Henry met his end?" Chester murmured, his gaze fixed on the unmarked grave.

They had waited for this moment, for the grave to be specially prepared to hold this solemn ceremony, this funeral.

"Yeah." Ricky stood at the side, the moonlight shining down on the grave marked with the words he picked out himself.

'Here lies Henry, the bravest chatterbox'

*SIGH*

Garfield sighed out heavily, not even sparing a few words but instead a single rose while placing it at the foot of the tombstone before mopping back.

Out of everyone gathered around the grave, the one who showed the most emotion wasn't Ricky, but Alexander.

The general, the hero of humanity, the one who has never known defeat in combat has once again had the privilege of burying another comrade.

The tales of the strongest, those who endure until the end, are written in the burdens they carry and the bodies of their friends they lay to rest.

Alexander has had the privilege or the burden to survive this far, but the weight is as heavy as the corpses that lay beneath his feet.

"You were brave, you were mighty." Alexander paid his respect, his tiny paws gripping tightly while looking at the empty grave of his familiar-in-arms.

"The world is cruel Ricky, many think life is just and noble but it is something that can wisp away in the snap of a finger." Alexander's voice carried, gazing at the tombstone as the others around him remained silent.

"It will never get easier, you must steel your heart Ricky, for more death lay ahead and more graves to dig." Alexander then slowly walked to the side, needing a moment to himself.

"Because in war, there are no victors." Alexander walked towards the side before slowly turning towards the serious Ricky.

"Only losers."

Author's Note: Once again, just wanna make sure those reading know that I forgot to add some stuff on Chapter 115 and I feel like an idiot but I was so tired yesterday that I spaced it hard.