It's sunset in Rome, arguably one of the most beautiful cities in the world. The architecture reflecting the suns rays create a very peaceful scene. But behind the scenes there are always men and women there keeping people safe… or unsafe. In these turbulent times many cities have had dead littering the streets, the culprits walking away without fear of retribution. On this peaceful evening Rome is quiet. In fact Rome has been quiet for a while now. And no matter what your views on the methods used to create this safety, no one could argue against the effectiveness of them.

It is this evening that i have been given a brief but eye opening view into the workings behind the world, and the words behind the man. Maximus Decimus Meridius, is the City Leader of rome, with his team. And I have managed to get for you a short interview with the man behind the tommy gun.

Chapter 1:

New York in December. Two words, bloody cold! I stood there on the sidewalk waiting for my brother, who as always, was late. I watched the darkened sky above me as a winter storm loomed and snow threatened. I would give him five or maybe ten more minutes and then I would leave. John was not as dependable as he used to be. I decided a while back not to ask any questions about what he did or how he suddenly became wealthy in a matter of months. I really did not need to know or get involved, but I had my suspicions. Coming from the past that we did, I could guess quite well. I had come here from London to get away from my father's line of work, my mother being Italian-American and ever the professional businesswoman, did not like the choice to stay out of the family business. I looked at my watch again, ten minutes was almost up.

Being a mortician, I knew the people who would pay big money to smuggle drugs in bodies that were being returned to their homelands. I had done it a few times. Clearly, my older brother had not caught wind of that one. At least I hoped he hadn't. That could be a problem, it was something he would tell my parents and they would go back to fighting over me. Something I did not want, I'd seen enough of their fighting to last me a lifetime.

I looked across the street, some movement had caught my attention. A man, probably in his mid twenties, stood against the wall of the building there. He was not built very big, no extreme physique, but something about him, made you think of power. He leaned against the wall, smoking a cigarette and looking formidable. My instincts told me he was a dealer of some kind. What link in the chain he was, that was a little harder to discern. By the way he was standing and his demeanor, he was more than simply a dealer. He looked like someone who demanded attention. I was in the middle of contemplating the person across the street when John walked up behind me.

“You make a nice target, sis.”, John’s voice was rough and somehow quiet simultaneously, years of cigarette smoking had left a rasp in his voice.

I spun around to face him, and he was smiling, “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to notice you staring at that guy like you’ve never seen a man before.”, Now he was snickering.

“I was not. I was just trying to figure out what he was up to over there.”, I looked back across the street. The man, now staring at John and me, caught and held my gaze for a moment. When he looked away, I looked at John.

“You don’t need to know what he’s up to. It’s really none of our business.” John, usually fun and laid back, suddenly got a little darker and colder.

I was still trying to put my confusion away for later when John grabbed my arm and lead me away from where we were standing. He took us along the street and down toward the restaurant to which we were supposed to be going. I realized something was wrong when John’s grip on my arm tightened. I pulled away from him and stopped.

“What is wrong with you? What the hell are you doing?”

John looked around nervously, “I’m trying to protect you. Now, come on, let’s go.”

“No. You will just get me hurt by not telling me, so out with it.” I stood staring at him, not willing to back down.

Emotions ran across his face, I was not sure exactly which ones, but I still refused to back off the subject. If he were involved with someone or something that was not very good, then not telling me what to look for would be dangerous for me. I was not ready to be used as leverage in a game I did not play.

"John, if you don't tell me what's going on, I swear I will turn around and walk the other way. I will not play mind games or be kept in the dark. That's what happened last time and our family paid dearly for it."

“Let’s just go to dinner. I will tell you then. I don’t like being out in the open . . . too dangerous.” John turned away from me and started walking.

I heard a sharp sound, one I recognized from long ago. I stopped dead. John turned fast. He had a gun locked, loaded and aimed before I could blink. He stood straight and still, aiming at the shadows just to my right. I was in the middle, between my brother’s gun and the other person.

‘I am going to die . . . ’ I thought, ‘What a way to get involved . . . ’

John’s gaze flickered to me, he knew I was in a precarious position. If he fired, I was dead. Most likely the other armed person was aiming at me. I had become leverage . . . something with which to bargain. I took deep breaths and tried to calm myself. It’s not every day I get a gun pointed at the back of my head. I tried to keep the memories of the past from flooding my mind, but they came anyway. Hugo's face, Prima's laugh... Erik's ever present smile. All gone. All dead. I snapped myself out of it, it would only hurt to remember, and hurting was not what I needed right now.

I heard the person behind me shuffle a little, getting restless. I wanted to move too but was afraid of the consequences of the action itself. So I listened to him instead, focusing on the sound of him, I discerned where he was at. I kept my attention on him, the sounds of his breathing, the shuffles of his shoe soles on the pavement. Every noise punctuated and clear in my ears.

I could only think of my obituary in tomorrow’s paper; Local Mortician Dies in Gang War . . . Lovely, I looked at John. His attention still on the man just behind me and off to my right, he caught my gaze for a split second and it was enough. I ducked and simultaneously John fired. A yelp and then a sickening thud sounded behind me.

I looked behind me and the body of a young man lay crumpled on the ground. Blood was spilling out from underneath him and bubbling out of his mouth. Strange, I had been a Mortician for a long time, and I had never seen someone actually kill someone else. Dead people were dead people. Almost all the same but I was watching this man die, watching him first sputter and twitch, then the light left his eyes and they became glazed and blank . . . He grew  pale as the heat left his body, the blood draining away from the surfaces of his skin, the veins in his face turned gray and in a matter of moments I was looking at what I always saw. A dead body.

it all started last week early morning when the newly ranked tokyo boss Cuddles awoke from a big night partying and peerd out his window as he looked out his window of his penthouse he notice Houras walking by without a second thought cuddles drew his sniper, seconds later houras was shot dead then and there without one word of reason, after the whacking it had appeared that cuddles had already flee'd to his jet and tried to palm of the blame onto another tokyo boss PhyscoLogic.

Not long had passed and people where in a panic as cuddles who most had recently discovered was a player known to them as Koston landed in Chicago it was only minutes till the ex field marshal of the army Holden met the scope of Koston's Sniper, after a quick shot from his trustworthy sniper Koston was back onto his plane and out of the picture yet again, but now the heat had really picked up and a few other bosses wanted there shot at Koston for what he was doing as he flew into sydney he was kindly greeted by his mentor NTO, who instantly had a shot at the young out of hand boss only to find he had a body guard willing to do for him at anytime, as NTO fired his pistol at Koston Out Jumped his Loyal Bodyguard mIRC to take the bullet.

This Brought Koston some more time so he rented a motel room on the stop story while he avoided NTO and awaited the arrival of his new bodyguard, as he lookx through his scope of the sniper he noticed the sydney city leader Godless walking by chatting to the locals after a few minutes he had a clear shot and with one shot took away the life from everyone's favorite city leader Godless, after running from his hotel room Koston decided he would be short on time so set ablave Satanics Drughouse causing millions of dollars of damage.

But the end was near for koston with his new body guard being trapped in jail he was drawing dead after tryiing to bargain with NTO he awaited for his jet to travel for his next selected victum but it didnt take long till PhyscoLogic jumped down from above with his katana and ended the young bosses life, the death brought relief to many and shame to others. But Left alot people with the question ,

"who let him get to bold again?"

Interview With Koston

Paper: Why Did you decided to randomly whack these innocent players?

Koston: Random ? haha, not one of my whacks are random they all have there own special reasons.

Paper: Do you not feel like you let NTO down after he had taken you under his wing for so long ?

Koston: NTO knew what he was doing from the start.

Paper: Are we ever going to be safe from people like you and your friends ? The TrouserJerkys, Isotope, Rileyfreeman's And Any Other Members of Rape Or Ragtags ?

Koston: You sure are, just earn earn earn agg more then i can, and i think you will be safe.

Paper: Any Chance you will be returning ?

Koston: im not telling you and its not likely for now :) thanks this is over

Written By : TheTruth

It happened 2/5/2010 5:38:51 AM somewhere in the rome city. The great city leader (darksiders aka isotpe) who was owning it for the last 2 months caused a big earthquake. Other tank player Rare (riley) got randomed by someone.

The gangs in the world are gaining more and more strength, 2 Godfathers are living side to side in peace.

Recently Grief has moved to Tokyo and started his own crime family, making it now 3 crime

families in Tokyo which hold the city and at least 1 crime family in each of the other cities. The world is so full of gangsters that Grief doesnt have any members to invite to his gang.

whats going on with the world? If we all start to join crime families and become gangsters - someone needs to be the victim.

The end is not bright for the legitimate and not legitimate citizens of the world, booring and dark days are going to come. Maybe this is the time that a war is realy needed? Usualy crime families whould rize and fall constantly, new oportunities for new gangsters to reach the top would emerge. now that the gangster over regulating  the world the future shows nothing good.

At first I thought its only my opinion but soon I understood that many people are sharing it with me, including gang members that just go by the way of - "if you cant beat them - join them".

Is it a time for a change? May we find that sometimes war can be a good thing?

The world shought be free from all the rigulation and overpowering by people who thing they can play it God, maybe something should be done... Maybe we should grow some balls and make our life interesting? break some rulls? shake the things up?

I say ENOUGH!!

The stage was set. IJ had its old newspaper back, and it had a dedicated couple of people working on it. Articles trickled in, some of quality, some... not so good. Nevertheless, tales of muggings, interviews with crews and general gossip filled the paper; coming from sources far and wide.

In running, people say there is a point where runners have given their all and they feel like they just have to stop, as if they had run into a brick wall. I am sad to report, that this may indeed be the brick wall for the ijtimes.

Recent articles have come from Sydney, but the quality of these reports is admittedly low, with the editors being forced to publish as there are no other writers who have bothered submitting things to the paper.

The new underground ijvfans site ijplanet.tk ran a thread called 'IJTimes or SydneyTimes?', which was a stab at the flood of sydney reports, and asked if sydney were using the IJTimes to gain a higher population.

I put it to the IJ world, that you should not complain about the city being over reported, if you haven't got the time or the patience or even the skill to write and submit your own.

I put it to the IJ world, that the standards of writing have slipped so dramatically from the predecessors of this paper, that the appeal of writing in the paper has slipped.

Therefore I put it to the IJ world that the only way to raise standards and balance the reporting playing field of the IJTimes is to write the best articles you possibly can and submit them to us. Instead of moaning about the problem, try working towards the solution.