When crime becomes prolific enough, eventually it has to become organized.

  Organized crime is never a force for good, but the amount of damage it does can vary. Not just by size of the operations but by the business model and goals of the families.

  As it happened, in a particular city, not too long ago. Two men were tasked with staking out a storage unit for unscupulous reasons.

  -

  "Almost eight o'clock again." The more senior of the two said, "time for our guest to arrive."

  The younger gangster picked up the binoculars. "Who is this guy?"

  "Samuel Hirotoshi." The other said. "I only know 'cause my kids are obsessed with his games."

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  "This guy makes videogames? What business does a guy like that have with evidence stolen from a police station?"

  "I dunno, but I got beef with 'im. Thought they were finally done playing their turn-based RPG'ems and stuff. Now they're raving about a secret boss they got to fight, it's a whole ten hours more of content trying to fight the super special light dragon at the end."

  The young man laughed. "No more videogames for christmas, huh?"

  "Was their mother's idea. My friends got kids that like football."

  -

  "Keep your eyes on the target." Their boss said.

  "Yes sir." The young criminal returned to his looking glass.

  "And no more banter, this is the moment of truth. Hirotoshi has secured a safe place for our prize, the is the last chance we have to get our claws on it."

  "There he is!"

  "Start the car. As soon as he comes out we grab it."

  The older man placed his hands on the steering wheel. "He's all alone, is it really as valuable as you say? You said we'll all be rich."

  "Oh yes." The boss jumped up and down on the dashboard, his green plastic hands gesturing wildly as he looked at the target unlock his storage unit. "That orb contains a world of value."