After a long while, the sounds of fighting downstairs finally died down.
Ririko strolled downstairs, then paused at the sight of the tavern.
A large section of the wall had been blackened by flames and gave off a burnt smell;
The fabric backdrop on the pink photo wall had been slashed with a knife and hung limply;
Bullets had shattered the bottles on the bar, and the air was thick with a complicated blend of cheap whiskey, scorched wood, and gunpowder.
Fish Mooney sat on a relatively intact chair, a cigarette between her fingers, its smoke drifting slowly upward in the dim light.
Her expression was utterly unruffled, as though she had seen this sort of scene so many times that she no longer cared.
Ririko went behind the bar and glanced down at the two boxes of chocolates she had hidden there-
The heat had warped the packaging, and chocolate had oozed through the gaps in the boxes.
She clicked her tongue. "What a waste."
Victor also came slowly downstairs. He stopped at the foot of the stairs, surveyed the wreckage of the tavern, and merely said, "Well, damn."
He walked over to the liquor cabinet, dug a chipped glass out of the broken shards, poured the remaining liquor from the broken bottles into it, and tipped his head back for a sip.
Fish Mooney gave them both an irritated look before saying coldly, "Sit down."
They exchanged a glance, then sheepishly walked over and sat on the two blackened chairs in front of her.
Ririko turned sideways to avoid the scorch mark on the chair back. "What are you going to do now that the tavern's like this?"
Fish Mooney flicked the end of her cigarette toward the floor.
"This place was always an intelligence-gathering spot. I never