Luca urges the others to move forward and exit the building while he stays behind and continues with his phone call. Lenny decides to turn back and calls out to the man on the phone before leaving...

Lenny: "I'm gonna hold you accountable for that tattoo, man!"

Luca shrugs him off and he exits the office behind the rest of the gang. Making sure everyone else is out of earshot, Luca returns to the conversation that's waiting for him on the phone.

"You have a lot of fucking nerve, Heiman. Calling me after killing my-"

Heiman: "Luca! You have to believe me! I did not have anything to do with Nari or Victoria's death!"

"Oh yeah, like I'm totally supposed to believe you, Jeffery. If you're going to kill people, be honest about it!"

"Luca. Kyle went psycho, lured Nari and Victoria to Central fucking Park, and killed them! You know me, I would never set a hit to take place in Central Park!"

Taken aback by the truth in Heiman's words, Luca thinks back to when he heard the news. He had only read the headline, which made no mention of the Location the bodies were found. For all intents and purposes, Heiman could be truthful in his words...

...And Luca paid him back by killing his right hand man.

"So, what do you need me for?"

"Poltera's out of fucking control. First he kills Kyle, which I think both of us are happy about, then he kills Gary! Fucking Gary! Shit is going down, and I need you to help me!"

"...And if I refuse?"

"C'mon man. Don't do this! You can't-"

"I can do whatever the fuck I want to do Heiman! You fail to realize that I'm not the fucking 14 year old I was when you designated my dad to be the fall guy, the one to go to jail for you! The Arzegotti's are no longer slaves to you!"

"Your dad would be disappointed in you."

"And frankly, I don't fucking give a damn! He's dead and gone, again because of you! Fuck you Heiman! I will not help you!"

Angrily, Luca hangs up the phone and takes a deep breath. He realizes that he has to be calm by the time he gets out of the club or else the gang would be suspicious.

Taking his first steps out of the office and into the main room of the now silent club, he notices the look on some of the club goers faces. The fear of death, the praying for forgiveness that they were doing before a bullet ended their sorry lives. With a confident smile, Luca whispers to himself...

"I did a good thing today. Feels good..."

The smile persists as he exits the club and passes the security checkpoint, finally making it outside to see his friends waiting outside, excited beyond belief.

"Guys. It's time for celebration!"






The atmosphere inside of the tattoo parlor is one of lighthearted fun blended with obnoxious bro douche. A group of muscle clad men with tribal tattoos exits at the same time our gang of heroes enter, the latter laughing at how ridiculous they look.

Jared: "I bet none of them are even part of a tribe."

"That's a guarantee."

Luca turns and faces the other four, laughing as he asks the million dollar question.

"So, what are we getting? Maybe we can make our own logo. Possibly a glowing fist. Maybe a unicorn for Renee?"

The other four begin laughing at the last suggestion.

"Fuck you, Luca!"

She takes a playful swing at the man who offered to pay for all their tattoos. Luca dodges and slaps her hand playfully.

"But seriously, what are we gonna get? I think we should know before going in."

"We could all get unicorns."

"Let's be real here..."

"I think the glowing fist sounds good."

"Same."

"Glowing fist. Everyone in?"

Renee and Lenny both nod in approval.

"Great! I'll leave everyone to decide where they want it..."



"Cute how Macbeth thinks he's getting somewhere by competing against me on Wednesday. The only place he's going is to the hospital after I kick his ass up and down that cage and back again without breaking a sweat.

Newsflash Macbeth:

No one's giving you respect. You're in this match because Wallace couldn't risk his actual talent getting embarrassed like Angelus was at Gauntlet City.

Also, stop kissing Wally Who-the-fuck's ass to get somewhere. Warfare sucks, I'm only here to embarrass the establishment that promotes this trash heap as an A class program. Hence why a loser like you is in the octagon with a champion like myself.

You aren't taking shit from the Black Circle, and you sure as hell aren't bringing shit to the landfill of talentless hacks known as Wednesday Night Warfare.

Don't even get me started on the lackluster, juvenile insult you lobbed at me as if you were throwing a 90 mph fastball right at my skull. Arseface is about as clever as modern day rappers rhyming 'nigga' with 'nigga'. Please try again when you have a semblance of wit about you.

Bring your A game you might try, but you always be C rate. You won't even dent the Black Circle's progress in the slightest, so your hopes and dreams will be shattered in hilarious fashion when I break your fucking skull.

You'll head right back to the doldrums of mediocrity called Wednesday Night Warfare's midcard.

Forever doomed to meaningless matches designed for bathroom breaks.

How does it feel? Knowing you're expendable..."