Monday 5 December 1997
Zaboru had just arrived at the ZAGE campus in the USA, having flown in from Japan two days prior. His main objective was to oversee and ensure that the USA team was fully prepared for the upcoming Nexus team developnt, which would take a few days to coordinate and launch. Following that, Zaboru had a tightly scheduled itinerary—he planned to travel to China and then London to et with Red Falcon and Flocks, the respective ZAGE subsidiaries in those regions. The purpose of these etings was to discuss potential office expansions in their countries. anwhile, the office expansion project in Korea was already underway under Red Falcon's managent and was nearing completion, with only a few final details left to address.
Zaboru is also planning to introduce a new internship system aid at identifying and nurturing talented high school and university students across the United States. While in Japan this project is already underway and in its preparation phase, Zaboru wants to ensure that the U.S. governnt, particularly its education departnts, are aligned with his vision. He believes that gaining institutional support will solidify the program's long-term success and legitimacy.
To make this happen, Zaboru has enlisted his trusted Arican legal representative, John Kirby, to arrange a formal eting with mbers of the U.S. Departnt of Education and other relevant stakeholders next month. The eting will focus on the program's goals, its benefits to Arican youth, and how ZAGE plans to provide real-world experience through structured internships, ntorships, and direct involvent in live projects.
Unlike typical internships, this system will go beyond office tasks—it aims to challenge students to engage in product developnt, software engineering, creative design, and even ga testing. Zaboru wants the interns to feel like part of the ZAGE family, helping shape the future while gaining invaluable experience.
Zaboru is confident that the U.S. governnt won't reject the proposal. After all, ZAGE's reputation around the world speaks for itself. It's commonly said in the tech and entertainnt industries, "If you work with ZAGE, your future is secure." The company is renowned not just for its groundbreaking products, but also for its supportive and inclusive work culture. This initiative, Zaboru believes, will only strengthen that legacy and give the next generation a chance to grow alongside one of the most respected nas in the industry.
As the day faded into night, a familiar sensation crept up on Zaboru—hunger, deep and relentless. "Huh, damn," he muttered to himself, rubbing his stomach. He was already starving again, despite having devoured four Big Mac burgers just four hours ago. Most would be sluggish or nauseous after such a feast, but not Zaboru. His body, enhanced by one of his unique abilities—Enlightennt Body—operated on a different scale. This ability kept his physique in constant peak condition, requiring only minimal rest to recover from even the most exhausting days. But the trade-off was brutal: Zaboru needed an insane number of calories just to keep functioning at full capacity. For him, hunger was a regular companion—and tonight, it was roaring louder than usual.
"Well, I'm in the mood for so Italian food right now," Zaboru muttered to himself with a small chuckle, standing about half a kiloter away from the ZAGE campus. Though the evening air was crisp and the streets dimly lit, Zaboru felt an odd sense of comfort being this close to his company's headquarters. He glanced at the rows of parked cars nearby—sleek, luxurious vehicles at his disposal, including his custom-tuned sports car—but none of them called to him.
Instead, he walked past them and approached his preferred mode of travel: his bicycle. But this wasn't just any ordinary bike. It was a sleek, all-black, custom-built machine with a sturdy fra and reinforced wheels—sothing between a modern marvel and a nostalgic companion. He affectionately dubbed it the Dark Wanderer, a spiritual descendant of the old 'Silver Wrecker,' in Japan a legendary Bicycle his trusty partner
He ran his hand across the handlebars with a grin and gave the fra a light pat, as if waking up an old friend. "Let's go, Dark Wanderer," he whispered.
Without hesitation, Zaboru hopped on and began pedaling toward the nearest Italian restaurant. The streets were quiet, the breeze refreshing. Despite owning a fleet of high-end vehicles, there was sothing irreplaceable about traveling by bike. The rhythmic cadence of the wheels, the freedom of weaving through the city, the intimacy of seeing everything up close—it just clicked with him. Riding the Dark Wanderer was a ditative escape from his high-pressure role as head of ZAGE. It wasn't just satisfying. It was liberating.
After roughly a ten-minute ride through the calm evening streets, Zaboru finally arrived at his chosen destination—Gio Pasta. The restaurant was a familiar favorite of his, well-known for serving what he considered so of the best Italian food in the entire city. Though not directly adjacent to the ZAGE campus, it was close enough to be a convenient retreat whenever his cravings struck. It had beco sowhat of a personal tradition for him to visit this place whenever he was in the mood for hearty Italian cuisine during his trips to the U.S. headquarters. The warm, savory aroma wafting from the kitchen and the cozy ambiance made Gio Pasta more than just a restaurant—it felt like a second ho for his taste buds.
Zaboru parked his Dark Wanderer near the entrance, locking it with a simple twist before stepping into the restaurant. The place was mostly quiet, unsurprising given that it was already past 9 PM. A few diners lingered at distant tables, but the warm lighting and gentle aroma of Italian spices made the space feel alive.
As he approached the counter, the chef behind it—who everyone affectionately referred to as Gio Pastore—looked up and smiled. "Mr. Gio," Zaboru called with a grin, "I'll have the Spaghetti Bolognese, Spaghetti Carbonara, Fettuccine Alfredo, Gnocchi, and one of your best pizzas. And for drinks, milk and orange juice—make it the usual portions." He ended his order with a playful wink.
Gio Pastore laughed knowingly, already turning toward the kitchen. It wasn't the first ti Zaboru had placed such a massive order, and the staff knew by now not to question the young man's extraordinary appetite.
"Sure thing, Zaboru. Huge portion as usual—just give a minute," Gio chuckled before disappearing into the kitchen. Once out of sight, he quickly pulled out his phone and made a discreet call.
"Boss, it's true. He's here," Gio whispered.
The voice on the other end responded with a low chuckle. "Good. Make sure he doesn't leave. I'm heading there now."
anwhile, Zaboru, unaware of the conversation, leaned back in his seat and activated one of his unique abilities: Emulator Minds. Instantly, his mind created a virtual workspace, allowing him to multitask ntally while appearing to rest. He closed his eyes and assud a relaxed position, feigning sleep as he dived deep into planning, reviewing developnt tasks, and ntally running simulations.
Monts later, the food arrived. Zaboru opened his eyes, thanked the waiter with a nod, and imdiately began devouring the feast in front of him. "This is damn good!" he said between bites, fully imrsed in the rich flavors.
Just as he was finishing his first plate, two sleek black cars pulled up outside the restaurant. The doors opened, and several n stepped out with calculated movents. Three of them—an elderly man and two younger n—entered the restaurant with an air of quiet authority, while the rest remained outside, taking up watchful positions around the periter.
Zaboru frowned as he noticed the three n circling toward him. A flicker of unease crossed his mind. "Damn, am I in trouble?" he thought. If this were Japan, he wouldn't have been concerned—back there, the Aoshidan, his brother-in-law's forr Yakuza security group, would've had his back. But here in the U.S.? He was alone. No one was watching his six. No protection.
The elderly figure are none other Don Marco Giordano the Don of Giordano Family which are one of strongest Mafia Syndicate that operate in USA and The Don surprised there are no fear or anxiousness in Zaboru eyes which pleased the Don and grinned "Well call Marco".
"May we sit, young man?" Don Marco asked, his voice smooth but commanding.
Zaboru gave a respectful nod and replied, "Sure thing, Sir Marco."
The three n took their seats across from him. Don Marco wasted no ti getting to the point.
"Zaboru Renkonan," he began, his tone warm but firm, "these two are my sons. They're both turning eighteen this year. Believe it or not, they've been your fans since the earliest days of ZAGE. Back in 1991, when we were still living in Japan for business stuff, I bought your first ga product. They were just kids, but even then, they were obsessed with your work. And ever since, they've followed your gas like gospel."
Zaboru blinked, taken a little off guard by the level of familiarity. The Don smiled at his sons, who now looked at Zaboru with wide, excited eyes. It was like eting a living legend for them.
"Boys," Don Marco said, "introduce yourselves."
The first son stepped forward with a wide grin. He was tall, well-built, clearly athletic. "My na is Mario," he said proudly, his deep voice brimming with enthusiasm.
The second son followed, equally tall but leaner, with long hair that touched his shoulders and a calr, artistic energy. "I'm Luigi," he said with a small smile.
Zaboru couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "Huh? Mario and Luigi?" he asked, slightly stunned.
Don Marco chuckled, clearly amused. "Yeah, I know. Coincidence, huh? That you ended up naming your famous characters after them? But they love it. They wear it like a badge of honor. It's beco a bit of a family joke—our own little legacy tied to yours."
Zaboru relaxed and laughed. The tension of the unexpected encounter eased. "Well, then I'm glad," he said, genuinely touched.
The Don grinned, clearly entertained by Zaboru's composure. "You already figured out we're not regular people, haven't you? But what puzzles is—why aren't you panicking?"
Zaboru leaned back a bit in his chair, casually resting his arm on the table. "Hmm… well, for starters, I'm starving. And second, panicking won't do any good right now. If you were here to hurt , I'd be in trouble either way. So instead of worrying, I'd rather hear what you want from , sir."
The Don laughed, a hearty, genuine laugh that echoed softly through the quiet restaurant. "You've got guts. I like that in a person. That kind of confidence is rare, especially for soone your age."
He paused, then leaned forward slightly. "Well, let be honest with you—I'm Don Marco of the Giordano Family. Maybe you've heard the na?"
Zaboru's eyes narrowed slightly. He had. He definitely had. The Giordano Family was one of the most whispered-about nas in the underworld—an Italian-Arican mafia syndicate with deep roots and powerful connections. Even in Japan, their na surfaced from ti to ti in underground circles. Stories painted them as ruthless but principled; they were the kind of mafia that didn't tolerate chaos. They kept smaller gangs in check and enforced a sort of order in their territories. While they were known to be peace-oriented, especially compared to more aggressive groups, they were still mafia—still dangerous.
That realization made Zaboru pause. Not out of fear, but from the sheer gravity of the situation. He was sitting across from a man who likely had more influence in this city than most politicians—and yet, the Don was smiling, laughing, treating him with surprising respect.
Zaboru nodded, his tone casual but alert. "So, what does the infamous Giordano family want with soone like ?"
Don Marco lit his cigar with slow precision, the fla briefly illuminating the sharp lines of his face. He took a puff, exhaled, then smirked. "What if I told you I want your business? And if you refuse, I'll toss your dead body into the river?" He grinned devilishly, while his two sons looked visibly surprised at their father's bluntness.
Zaboru raised an eyebrow but stayed composed. After a short pause, he replied with a grin, "Well, if that's the case, I'd better start running now."
The Don burst out laughing, waving off his own threat. "Hahaha! I'm just joking. I like your spirit. That kind of backbone is rare these days."
He leaned in, voice more serious now. "Actually, what I want is a formal eting—not sothing casual like this. I've already arranged for one at a luxury hotel near your office. Private, secure. Nothing shady."
He took another puff and continued, "You have nothing to fear from us. The Giordano Family doesn't want to hurt you. In fact, we want to protect you. What we're looking for is a clean, official partnership. Trust —there are a lot of hyenas and rats circling ZAGE USA. In Japan, you've got the Hamazou clan watching your back. But here? You're wide open. And I can't let that stand." He puffed his cigar slowly, the smoke curling upward as he spoke. "Once word spreads that ZAGE t with , people will understand—ssing with ZAGE ans ssing with the Giordano Family. That alone will send a ssage. Of course, this is business, and protection doesn't co for free."
Zaboru smiled and nodded with calm acceptance. "I'm well aware. In fact, I'm grateful to receive the Giordano Family's protection."
He knew this alliance would be extrely useful for ZAGE USA, offering more than just security—it was a statent of power, one that could shift how rivals and enemies viewed the company moving forward.
He leaned back, a satisfied grin on his face. "But enough about that. I won't bore you with more business tonight. Just enjoy your al. Oh—and one last thing. Would you mind talk with my sons and taking a picture with them? It'd an the world."
Zaboru chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"
The Don stood up from his seat and walked over to have a friendly chat with Gio Pastore, the restaurant's owner. anwhile, his two sons eagerly turned their attention to Zaboru.
"Zaboru-san! It's an honor!" Mario exclaid with excitent sparkling in his eyes.
Luigi followed up imdiately, his voice just as animated. "We've been your fans since we were kids! Back when we first played Super Mario Bros a couple of years ago—we've bought every single ZAGE ga since! And we absolutely love Japan, by the way!"
Zaboru was caught off guard, blinking in surprise. He thought to himself, "The sons of a big mafia family are weebs? He even called '-san'?" He couldn't help but chuckle.
"Well, that's an honor. Thanks for your support. You two are very cool," Zaboru said with a warm smile.
Mario and Luigi were stunned. Their jaws dropped, and tears welled up in their eyes. They had just been told Zaboru's iconic phrase—sothing they had only ever seen him say in interviews and press events. To hear it in person felt like a dream.
As the three of them continued chatting, the energy was vibrant and genuine. They talked about gas, Japan, ZAGE, and favorite characters while Zaboru casually ate his food. Eventually, he decided to order more dishes, happy to spend more ti with the enthusiastic brothers.
From across the room, Don Giordano watched with a proud smile. He appreciated how Zaboru treated his sons like regular fans—no special treatnt, no fear, just honest kindness. It ant a lot to him, and it clearly ant the world to Mario and Luigi.
His two sons were far from the stereotypical image of a Don's heirs. Rather than falling into debauchery and reckless behavior like many mafia scions, they had a deep love for gas and a surprisingly wholeso passion for the culture that ZAGE represented. Yet beneath their cheerful and easygoing personalities, both boys were sharp and clever—clearly inheriting their father's intelligence and instincts. When it ca to serious matters, especially involving the safety of ZAGE, they could turn ruthless and decisive in an instant. That unwavering loyalty and potential for fierceness was exactly why Don Marco wanted the Giordano family to officially offer their protection to ZAGE. It wasn't just about business—it was about safeguarding sothing they all genuinely believed in and maximize his sons potentials.
The boys remained chatty and cheerful, soaking up every second of the experience, until eventually it was ti to leave. They said their goodbyes, still glowing from the interaction and Zaboru and the Giordano's changing phone numbers for future interractions.
Zaboru hopped back on his Dark Wanderer and pedaled into the night, heading toward the ZAGE offices with a full stomach, a light heart, and a story he wouldn't soon forget.
He sighed on the road. 'In Japan, it was the Yakuza. Now it's the Mafia? Do I have so kind of magnetic charm that pulls in every underworld syndicate across the globe?' Zaboru chuckled to himself, the wind brushing against his face as he pedaled onward. Well, it wasn't entirely a bad thing. He was already growing accustod to these bizarre alliances—and honestly, protection from a mafia family that genuinely adored his gas? It was oddly comforting. It reminded him of the Hamazou family back in Japan, loyal to the end. Maybe this was just his strange version of fate—or maybe gars really were everywhere, even in the shadows.
To be continue
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