Chapter 7: The Verdict
"Given that you have no prior criminal record, I would very much like to sentence you to probation. However, the evidence is clear—you used a weapon with deadly lethality, and the crime was carried out with extreme malice. Based on this, I sentence you to prison, Mr. Vercetti…"
The judge's gavel struck like thunder in the quiet courtroom.
From his seat, Tommy listened calmly, his expression unchanging.
"Your lawyer has requested you be placed in Greenwater Prison, near Naples, and under normal circumstances, I would agree. However, Greenwater is currently overcrowded. Therefore, you will instead be transferred to Redhaven Prison in Palermo. As for your sentence—"
Beside him, his lawyer, Ken Rosenberg, had been smiling confidently, thinking everything was going exactly as planned. But the moment he heard Redhaven Prison, his face drained of color.
"Redhaven Prison? Your Honor, that's the most heavily guarded facility in Italy!"
Ken immediately rose in protest. His plan had been simple: maneuver Tommy into Greenwater Prison, the so-called "five-star resort" for inmates. There, prisoners lived in near-luxury—spacious villas instead of cramped cells, gardens, libraries, even medical centers with professional doctors. On holidays, some were even granted leave to visit family.
If Tommy were sent there, life behind bars would have been little different from that of a wealthy man outside.
But Redhaven?
Redhaven was hell.
The facility overflowed with hardened criminals, rival factions, and Mafia soldiers from across Italy. Riots were common, stabbings a daily occurrence. For someone tied to the Camorra, it was a death sentence in all but name.
Ken's voice rang desperately across the courtroom. "Your Honor, I must object—"
"Enough."
The judge struck his gavel again, face unmoved. "The decision is final. Mr. Vercetti will serve ten years in Redhaven Prison, with the possibility of parole after five. The judgment takes effect immediately!"
The sound of the gavel echoed like the closing of a coffin lid.
Tommy, hands and feet bound in shackles, was escorted back to his holding cell. He moved without resistance, his steps calm, his eyes unreadable.
Minutes later, Ken Rosenberg, pale-faced and grim, entered the cell under escort.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Vercetti… I couldn't stop it."
Tommy tilted his head slightly.
Ken sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I tried everything. At first, it was going perfectly—I cut your sentence down from more than twenty years to just ten. I thought I'd secured Greenwater for you. But it was all a trick. They let me talk, let me win… only to pull the rug out at the end."
Tommy gave a small, dry chuckle. "Of course. If I were the one behind this, I'd do the same."
Bribing a judge, manipulating a transfer—classic Mafia tactics. He had expected no less.
Ken pulled out a folder, flipping quickly through its contents. "Listen to me, you need to understand where you're going. Redhaven is crawling with rival Mafia factions, especially the Nostra Family. You remember them—the Sicilian syndicate, one of the three major powers in Italy. And…" Ken hesitated. "…the man you assassinated? He was one of theirs."
The implication was clear.
The Nostra would be waiting.
Tommy's eyes narrowed. "So that's the mastermind's plan. Kill two birds with one stone—throw me into their den and let them finish the job."
Ken's face was drawn tight with worry, but he offered the one shred of good news he had. "The warden—Hunter—he's decent. Honest. He won't collude with the Nostra. That may buy you some breathing room."
Tommy leaned back against the cold wall, his chains clinking softly. His lips curved into the faintest smile.
"A small blessing, then."
Ken wanted to say more, but the guards cut him off, escorting him from the cell.
Now alone, Tommy let his mask slip slightly, his thoughts racing.
"The Nostra Family, huh? That'll be a problem…"
Inside Redhaven, he'd be without guns. Even with his fighting skills, bare fists wouldn't be enough against endless enemies.
Which meant only one thing.
He needed the system.
He called it up in his mind, the translucent panel flickering before his eyes:
> Name: Tommy Vercetti
Character Card: Nobi Nobita
Abilities: None
Points: 800
His points had grown steadily since the firefight. At first, he thought it was some hidden task reward. But after testing and observing, he realized—there were no mandatory tasks, no AI voice, no penalties. Only the panel, the gacha, and a sprawling achievement tree.
Every milestone—whether wealth, status, or violence—earned him points. The twenty-one men he had killed had elevated his standing within the Mafia's bloody hierarchy, directly boosting his balance.
And now, just two hundred more points stood between him and his next gacha pull.
"Everything in prison will depend on those points," Tommy thought coldly.
His gaze hardened, a plan slowly forming in the shadows of his mind.
"And there's someone else in Redhaven I can use…"
His eyes glinted dangerously. Tomorrow, the transfer would begin.
And the real game would start.