Year 1048 A.N. – March 29th
In the heart of Lomo City, trade bustled with energy. Sunlight poured through the wide windows of the main building, as it did every spring, reflecting on the meticulously polished mosaic floors nestled among the austere wooden and stone structures.
At the center, inside the main office of the Vongola Bank of Order and Power, sat a seven-year-old blond-haired boy on a chair far too tall for him. His legs didn't touch the ground, and his elbows barely reached the edge of the carved oak desk—custom-built so that his small body could reach it with dignity. Despite the comical image, no one dared laugh… except G, his newly summoned Guardian.
The boy, with a sharp glint in his eyes, wrote with absolute focus. His head barely rose above the desk, but he still maintained the air of an experienced leader.
"One day I'll grow up…" Giotto Sawada repeated in his mind like a mantra, while signing documents with a quill three times the size of his hand, stamping scrolls with the official Vongola seal.
G chuckled from a corner, arms crossed. He couldn't help but laugh out loud. That light mockery was enough for Takeshi and Reijiro to exchange knowing glances. Though they were loyally stationed at opposite corners of the room as his personal guards, even they couldn't suppress their smiles at the scene.
Giotto glanced sideways at them, unbothered. The respect they held for him was indisputable. He didn't need to raise his voice for the world to obey.
"We'll see who's laughing when I send someone to clean the eastern latrine for a week," he said dryly.
The laughter quickly ceased.
For months now, his name and the Vongola security seal had become known throughout the lands of Lomo. The "protection fee" charged to temples, villages, and wandering merchants had established a network of influence and safety across the region. Though formal taxes didn't exist, tradition dictated that a portion of every harvest go to the local daimyō. Now, however, a sizable share also found its way into Giotto's hands—through "voluntary donations" in exchange for protection. The power of Vongola had grown so vast that even the feudal lord of the land could no longer ignore it. The Vongola mark had become synonymous with order, justice… and fear.
And that day, the feudal lord finally came to visit.
...
The atmosphere grew heavier when the lord of the country was announced with pomp: three carriages, twelve guards, and two personal advisors. He entered the bank as though it were his, his steps echoing through the marble hallways. Chin held high, eyes stern. When the double doors to Giotto's office opened, the entourage paused. Upon seeing Giotto—so small, seated seriously in that immense chair—the lord furrowed his brow.
His eyes silently scanned the strange yet captivating room decor: handwoven linen rugs from the south, tapestries with ancient symbols hanging in asymmetrical patterns, a suspended oil lamp from the Yayoi period dripping amber light onto a carved wooden map of the country. Everything seemed pulled from different eras, yet blended with undeniable harmony.
In their hearts, both soldiers and advisors—even the feudal lord himself—couldn't help but silently admire the rare but elegant way the office was decorated. It had an arcane solemnity to it, as though time itself had paused to pay tribute to its young occupant.
One of the advisors broke the silence with a skeptical tone:
"May I see the owner of this place?" asked the first advisor, a long-faced man with a nasal voice."Where is your master, boy? Call your father—or the man truly behind this… organization," demanded the second advisor.
Giotto looked up from his documents with a calm expression. His voice was steady, showing not a hint of annoyance.
"You're looking at him," Giotto said, unmoving.
The second advisor, shorter with saggy cheeks, scoffed mockingly:
"We didn't come to play with children. We want to speak to whoever runs this bank. Perhaps your father…"
The first advisor looked at him as if he had heard a bad joke, stepped forward, and scowled.
"Don't be insolent. We're talking about an organization that's generated wealth in just a year. No childlike voice could've done this."
Tension thickened. G folded his arms behind Giotto, amused. Takeshi and Reijiro were already on alert.
The second advisor moved forward with a superior tone.
"You have many sources of income: banking, escorts, protection… even rumors of food trading between villages. It's time you share that wealth with the lord of the country you belong to."
Giotto casually cleaned his ear with his pinky, as if the man's words were wind. When the advisor finished, he replied simply:
"No."
The room turned frigid.
The lord of Lomo, silent until then, began to sweat beneath his robes. He had come to assert dominance, but inside he just wanted to return to his palace and enjoy the company of his concubines. He had left politics to his advisors—and now regretted it.
Giotto narrowed his eyes. He'd heard the rumors: this lord was merely a puppet with a crown. If his advisors were the true power, then Giotto would be the new puppeteer.
With a small gesture across his neck, Giotto gave a signal.
Instantly, Takeshi and Reijiro, who had silently moved behind the group, unsheathed hidden knives and slit the throats of the daimyō's two guards. The bodies dropped silently.
The advisors froze, pale and speechless. One tried to scream, but Giotto silenced him with a calm raised hand.
"Don't bother. It's useless. There's no one outside who'll help you. This is my house."
He stepped down from his tall chair, feet landing softly with dignity. G chuckled again, subtly echoed by the escorts who kept their martial posture. Giotto walked toward his "guests," face slightly red from his short height, already plotting a prank on G for later.
G suppressed a laugh. Reijiro scratched his head with fake confusion.
Giotto approached the group, thinking of revenge on G. But for now, seriousness returned. His outfit was specially tailored: a blend of late Jōmon and Yayoi era fabrics adapted to the Italian mafia style. Though rustic, it was elegant, with a neckband mimicking a tie. Despite his size, he radiated the authority of a true leader.
"And here you are," said Giotto coldly, "crossing my bank's doors to beg for crumbs?""I don't like repeating myself," he added flatly. "I am the boss."
He scratched his ear again and yawned into his sleeve.
The second advisor stepped forward, flushed with anger.
"Insolence! What you've done in the lord's presence is a crime. You're playing with fire!"
Giotto remained unmoved.
"Fine, I'll speak... but not to the circus clowns," he said, stroking his chin playfully.
Then, with an icy smile, he raised his right hand again—sliding it across his neck.
In a flash, Takeshi and Reijiro unsheathed their daggers again.
The advisors barely reacted. It was too late.
Two blades flashed. Their heads fell onto the woven carpet. Silence reigned.
"Remind me not to kill people on the carpet again," Giotto muttered with a sigh. "Carpet weaving in this era is hellishly expensive, and cleaning blood is a nightmare for the cleaning girl."
He turned to the trembling lord, who dropped to his knees, pale as wax.
Giotto sighed in exasperation.
G chuckled.
"Next time, we'll lay down a sacrifice mat, boss.""Don't give me ideas," Giotto replied, raising an eyebrow.
He faced the lord.
"Now then, lord of Lomo… from now on, things will go as I say. Until you pay for this attempted exploitation, your role will be to serve. Loyally."
The lord nodded, trembling like a child scolded by a parent.
And that was how Giotto became the true ruler of the Country of Lomo.
He turned to a side door and called for Haru and Takeshi—who had matured rapidly that year.
Though still a child, Takeshi had a ruthless side and a disturbing smile that made him the perfect reminder of Vongola power.
In a moment...
A cheerful-faced boy with a mischievous gaze appeared from the hallway. Haru had a sweet voice and an innocent smile that hid his cruel side toward the family's enemies. Loyal, heroic-hearted, and with a killer's mind.
"Haru, take care of the country's lord," Giotto ordered. "Make him feel 'comfortable' and keep him happy. Let him know, gently, that he's in our service. If it's too much work, ask Daiki to rotate shifts. He's good at making traitors feel guilty without laying a finger on them."
Haru nodded sweetly.
"Of course, boss. It'll be fun and an honor," he said in a singsong voice.
The lord of Lomo felt a chill crawl down his spine.
Giotto returned to his desk, glanced at the bloodstain on the carpet, and clicked his tongue.
"Boys, I'm going to conquer this world…" he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
...
G approached Giotto as the daimyō was escorted out.
"Are you serious about conquering the world?"
Giotto smiled, gazing out the window at the horizon.
"Not just conquer it, G. I'll transform it."
....
That weekend, as usual, it was time to rest in our old mansion in the forest. However, before relaxing, I had to complete my daily physical training mission. If my body isn't strong, I won't be able to use the Sky Flames at 100%.
I finished my last push-up when I heard the system's alert bell:
[Body Progress: 35% Completed]
I nodded in satisfaction."Done here. Time for the meeting," I murmured.
When I arrived at the mansion, everyone was already waiting for me—everyone except Haru, who was still watching over the daimyō.
I walked to the center of the room, where the children looked at me with respect. Takeshi, Reijiro, Sana, and Daiki sat quietly, awaiting instructions. G was lounging on a sofa with his arms crossed, looking amused.
"Hey, guys. Thanks for coming to this meeting. I know it's the weekend, but it's important to stay informed about what's happening in our family."
Everyone nodded attentively.
"First, I'll talk about Haru. I've pulled him from missions for now. He resolves everything with assassination. And while that's effective, I don't want him to break before adolescence. That's why I left him watching over the feudal lord."
Sana crossed her arms with a worried expression."Haru tries too hard to please you, boss. He idolizes you."
"I know," I said calmly. "That's why we have to protect him too."
"Second point. We're going to stop expanding. We'll take one year to solidify our foundation. We're still kids, and I don't want things to spiral out of control."
G sat up, raising an eyebrow."A whole year without conquering new land?!"
"It's necessary," I said firmly. "If we can't maintain what we already have, we'll lose everything."
"Makes sense," Reijiro chimed in. "There are rumors of clans getting upset over our 'voluntary donations.'"
"I've got it handled. Third point: we are the true rulers of this country, even if it's 'under the table.' That's why we're going to start building the underworld from here. I plan to introduce gambling, bingo, and other things that will bring in money and attract merchants to our area."
Daiki grinned."I like it. It'll be an entertainment empire."
"Exactly. Fourth and last: it's possible that between July and August, we'll summon the Rain Guardian. According to many farmers, those are the months with light rains that last for days. The condition to summon him is the longest rainfall of the year."
Takeshi raised his hand."And what if it doesn't rain?"
"Then we'll wait. But I have faith. We've got about four or five months to prepare and strengthen everything we've built."
…
Time flew by. The orphans trained, the broken adults obeyed, and some tried hard to earn our favor… while others secretly plotted betrayal. But to Giotto, nothing remained hidden. Rumors were like leaves in the wind: they always reached his ears. With a single gesture to his neck, the whisper would die.
Giotto implemented many Japanese gambling games, as well as some Western ones. Everyone in the family had a role to play—and they did so with pride and fear.
Then, at the end of July, the rain came.
Four straight days of soft, steady rain. The seeds shimmered under the water as if nature itself had given its blessing. The earth was ready.
It was time to summon the Rain Guardian.