Chapter 9: First Blood in Redhaven
During the rare free time, prisoners spilled from their cells into the yard, breathing in the sharp air of Sicily. The grassy strip and cracked basketball court were the closest thing to freedom they'd get.
Tommy Vercetti walked among them, calm as ever.
He had slept deeply the night before. The bed had been hard, the air rank, but still, he drifted into perfect rest without the slightest trace of insomnia.
This shocked his cellmate, Sucre.
What Sucre didn't know was that Tommy's peace came from the Nobi Nobita character card. The Master-level Sleep skill was like a shield—it granted him calm, steady rest even in the jaws of danger.
Energy was power. And in Tommy's mind, the skill was no less valuable than marksmanship.
Every Master-level gift had its use. Sleep kept him sharp, Gunmanship made him lethal. Even Cat's Cradle, useless for now, might one day reveal an unexpected edge.
He was ready.
---
A breeze swept across the yard as Sucre, more relaxed than yesterday, pointed out the factions scattered across the grounds.
"See those guys near the basketball court? Street thugs—they run that spot. The stands? That's the North Wind Gang. The weights and bars? Forest Boys hold that turf…"
Tommy listened carefully, absorbing every word. Lawyer Ken had told him about Redhaven's gangs, but Ken's info was surface-level. Sucre had lived here for years—his knowledge was deeper, sharper.
And then came the detail Tommy had wanted most.
"The Nostra Family? Their boss inside is a guy named John Abruzzi. Long hair, mean streak. Runs half the place."
Tommy tucked the name away. Abruzzi. That was the man to watch.
He thanked Sucre and moved aside, eyes scanning the yard. It was time to make his first move—find a target, establish dominance. In Redhaven, respect was earned with fists, not words.
But before he could choose his prey, trouble came looking for him.
---
"Hey, little chick."
The voice was greasy, mocking.
Tommy turned. A man with a twisted smile and hungry eyes swaggered toward him. His presence alone scattered nearby inmates, who melted away with nervous glances.
Tea Bag.
Sucre's face paled the instant he saw him. He hurried to Tommy's side, lowering his voice.
"Bad news, brother. That's Tea Bag. Runs the White Gang. Rumor is, he used to kidnap kids outside… did unspeakable things, then killed them. He's one of the most dangerous freaks in Redhaven."
"Hey, black boy," Tea Bag sneered, catching Sucre's whisper. "Got something funny to share? Say it louder for us all to hear."
Sucre froze, then quickly plastered on a submissive smile. "No, Tea Bag. Tommy's new—he didn't know this was your turf."
Tea Bag's eyes hardened. "Get lost, blackie. Unless you want me to teach you a lesson too."
Sucre hesitated, but only for a second. Against anyone else, he might've risked it. Against Tea Bag, he knew better. Shoulders slumping, he gave Tommy a helpless look and slinked away.
That left Tommy alone.
Tea Bag closed the distance, circling him like a predator. His gaze roved over Tommy with an ugly hunger.
"You're Tommy Vercetti, huh? The new legend?" He licked his lips. "Not bad. Even cuter than the rumors. A sweet little darling like you doesn't belong in a place like this. But that's okay…" He smirked, tugging at the pocket of his prison pants. "You just grab this, and I'll take care of you. You'll live like a king. No one touches you without my say-so."
Around them, prisoners averted their eyes. Everyone knew what "grabbing the pocket" meant in Redhaven. Submission. Ownership.
Tea Bag leaned closer, his tone dripping with promise. "Come on, sweetheart. Life'll be easier with me."
Tommy tilted his head, voice even. "Everything you just said… is that true?"
Tea Bag's grin widened. He thought he'd won. He boasted loudly, bragging about his power, his "pets," his untouchable status in Redhaven. He even shooed away his current lackeys, swinging his pocket proudly in the air like a trophy.
And Tommy stepped forward. One step. Then another.
Tea Bag's eyes glittered. Victory.
Then—
BANG!
A heavy fist smashed across his jaw, sending him sprawling to the dirt.
Gasps broke across the yard. Prisoners froze mid-step, jaws dropping.
Tommy stood over the fallen man, eyes blazing, voice cutting like steel.
"Idiot. Do you even know who you're talking to? Who gave you the guts to speak to me—Tommy Vercetti—like that?!"
The silence that followed was deafening.
And with one punch, Tommy had announced himself to Redhaven.