Chapter Text
In the city of L’manburg, there was a bar called The Ace of Diamonds . It was a small establishment that didn’t get too much business outside of biker gangs, those down on their luck, and people barely over the drinking age trying to test what their limit was. There was, however, one peculiar regular. He came once a month, always ordering the exact same thing, the most expensive drink on the menu. It was an incredibly strong brew made by the owner’s son, guaranteed to have an inexperienced drinker wobbling within a couple sips, Quackity made sure of that.
But that’s not what made him strange among the bar’s usual clientele. No, he was well dressed, his long blond hair was kept in a tight braid, and his short facial hair was incredibly well groomed, much unlike the rougher sort that normally came here. Yet, there was something… off about this clearly rich man, an air of well-earned strength and confidence strong enough to keep even Nathan “Chains” Hoxworth, the incredibly large leader of the Harlequins, away from him.
The man entered the building and sat at the bar, giving a small, tired smile to the bartender. “Hello mate.”
“Hey Phil, here for the usual?” The bartender responded, returning the smile. “Yeah,” Philza said, “it’s that time of the month, after all.” The burly man grabbed what looked like an old tankard, filled it with the special brew, and set it in front of the tired hero, who raised an eyebrow. “What’s with the tankard?”
“Well,” the man started, “you’ve been coming here for, what, 12 years? You’re definitely family at this point, and family gets perks.” He wipes down a glass. “Normally you just get a free second drink, but at the rate you come in here you’re driving us bankrupt!” The two men chuckle for a moment.
“Well, I’ll keep that in mind for the next time I think of coming in. Might go to the bar at headquarters instead.” Philza jokes. “Oh come on, mi amigo, we both know you won’t drink that mierda! You’d be coming by within the hour.” The man responds, the blond shrugs. “True, true.” He takes a sip of his drink.
“So, Alex, how’s Quackity? I haven’t seen him around the past couple of times I’ve been here.” He asked before taking a longer sip as Alex rolled his eyes. “Boy’s in love, he’s only taking the morning to afternoon shift nowadays.” He says, a slight tone of annoyance in his voice. “I’m happy for him, trust me, I am, but I’m getting old. I’m gonna be 55 in a few months, I gotta retire soon…”
Most of the others in the bar began to leave, it’s near 11 after all. Philza nodded as his old friend continued talking. “I want him to take this place... It’s been in the family for 3 generations, and I want it to be here for so many more. But… there’s another reason I don’t really like the idea of Quackity seeing this man…” his voice had shifted to a tone of mild concern as he leaned in so that only Phil could hear him.
“He’s one evil pinche bastardo.” He whispers, Phil’s face changing to a near reflection of his friend’s face, though with a slight hint of curiosity. “How so?” He asked.
Alex took in a deep breath as he looked around the bar, only noticing around three remaining patrons. “Hey! Out! Closing early!” He called to the obviously drunk men, who then proceeded to rush out of the bar as fast as their wobbly legs could take them, leaving only him and Philza. He walked over to the door and flipped the sign to say closed before turning back to one of his longest customers.
“Have you ever heard of a man named Johnathan Schlatt?”