This time however, the kid also had a knife. These were jobs he could leave to his underlings, cursing himself for getting caught in this situation again as it unfolded.Īnother teenager was kicking and screaming as the same suited man held a knife to his neck. A few loud shouts and a thump rang out from behind a coffee shop, and he was there to watch from a distance. It was almost exactly the same story, a police tip had been set off and Phil needed to ensure whoever placed it knew they couldn't do so again. A promise was made to Kristin that this would be the only child saved off of the street, that he wouldn't make a habit of it. What was one less guest bedroom? When Phil had seen how happy techno had been to be given permission to turn the room he was put in into his own, his heart swelled. Three years later Techno was living comfortably with the mafia boss and his wife, taking the role of their child in the public eye and proving to be a useful second in command behind closed doors. He swore he could feel his heart shatter when he saw the teens keen eye on the doorways, and once again as he closed the door on the guest bedroom that now housed a man driven to sleep by exhaustion. It took all night but Phil was able to learn that Technoblade had been left in Esempi when his parents moved for work, leaving him alone to finish high school and with a promise that they'd be back by college. Despite his refusal to hold the old man's hand, he followed him back to his house, abandoning his backpack in the alley. “Techno.” he responded, his voice hoarse from the pressure on his windpipe. “Look I don't know how you got Schlatt on you, but it’s probably best if you came home with me for the night.” he said softly, holding out his hand to the kid, “My name is Philza.” Phil returned his gun to its holster, ensuring the safety was on before clearing his throat. Phil was sure his foe would get the message when one of his men came back with his tail tucked between his legs. With little more than a vicious smile from the blond man he was running away, the knife falling forgotten into the same puddle. It was his turn to raise his arms, blue beanie falling into a puddle as a push of the gun directed him away from the kid. “Boss said someone with pink hair was carrying our-” the man in the suit was cut off by the sound of footsteps behind him and the cold metal of a gun to his head. “Listen I don't know what you mean, I don't have anything on me.” The teenager spoke, his arms raised in a placating manner. He knew he had to make an example of what happens to those that cause a ruckus in his territory, and he knew he could save a child in the process. It wouldn't be smart to make himself appear weak by defending a child, but Phil knew that suit meant he was one of Schlatt’s men. His backpack was open and books were flung around the alley, pink hair falling out of a loose braid and just almost disguising the knife held to his throat. A kid who couldn't be more than 15 pinned against the wall by someone in a suit. He had been wandering the area around his wifes brothel, having gotten a tip that there may be some police activity nearby, when he saw it. In fact the house had so many empty guest rooms he could probably house her entire staff with only a few having to share a bed. His wife, Kristin, was able to run a brothel safely, even ensuring that there was an extra room in their spacious house for any girl who thought she couldn't make it home unharmed one night. This came with a lot of enemies and a lot of people who feared him, but it also brought protection for his loved ones. Phil was at the head of a well known mafia group, the Syndicate, and he ran most of downtown Esempi. He didn't even know why it was becoming a problem to collect abandoned children until there was a third. Philza Minecraft wasn't sure how it had come to be that he had two teenage adopted sons.
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