Wraith was sitting on what would have been the crew's nest of a ship in the olden times. But on board the Maria Belle, it was merely a dare for the passengers. The captain had offered thousand bucks to the fifty people on board to climb up, and stay up. Something which had made him quite rich in the past, for the failures had to pay double the reward. But now, it seemed that the good captain would lose his thousand, which gave Wraith quite a satisfied feeling. Not even off the ship and he was making money already. He was wearing tattered black clothes in memory of Italy, and had taken nothing else with him, except for a pair of guns which belonged to his uncle.

The ship's horn blew, and he nearly jumped, caught off guard. Swearing, he looked around to see that a thin coastline had emerged. His face broke into a smile, the first one in a week, as he slid down the perch and ran to the prow of the ship. Yes, there it was. In a matter of half an hour, he was off the ship with thousand bucks in his pocket, surveying what was happening around him.  As he took his first steps off the docks and into the streets of Philadelphia, he muttered under his breath

"Il wraith errerà queste strade", and began his journey into the wilderness of America. A new place, a fresh start, and only a piece of his past with him.

Mux has now taken a seat, listening to Wraith's recount. He flashes back to his "off the boat" experience...

It was a cool day, Mid-October. The boat was somewhat smaller than the others that were making the passage from Sicily. We sailed out of the warm, Mediterranean water, and into the sharp winds and foamy waters of the Atlantic. It wasn't my first time on a boat, but it was certainly going to be my last. The boat was small enough, that every crew member had the aching fear "what if...?" What if we capsize? What if we crash? Will anyone come save us?

Luckily, the storm had passed, and calmer waters reassured our faith in the meek vessel. We had gotten through the storm, and now we were on our way to the "United States of America". My brothers had traveled years earlier, and were awaiting my arrival. They had gotten into a "family" in their stay in the U.S., and they were making the money to prove it. I wanted in. They paid the boat fare, and I so it was destined that I'd be a mafioso.

We were now only miles from shore. The cool breeze, the mist of the sea against my face, made the whole scene absolutely incredible. The boatsmen were laughing at how loud New York was. We were 3/4 of a mile out, and we could hear everything that was happening on the Docks. It was a loud city, it was a bright city. It was my city.

We stepped off the boat, and I handed the last of the money my brothers had given me to the officer. He sent me through the Ellis Island customs, and soon after, I emerged on the other side, eager to start my work. My brothers were on the other side of the street, smoking heavily. I never remembered them to be smokers, but I suppose it comes with the territory. I walked quickly over to them, we greeted each other in our native language, and they showed me around. They introduced me to "CrazyNine", one of the higher-ups within my brothers' organization. We hit it off, despite Nine's terrible bipolar tendencies.

A few weeks later, my brothers were murdered. They had broken the rules, and they paid for it. I had no anger towards them, though. They were stupid, trying to cash in on two families. It was bound to cause friction. So, with my family dead, I could finally really LIVE without ever looking back. I've been making money ever since.