Checkered Misinformation

The softening sensation of sand below his wooden sandals was a delightful experience for a man who had been sailing alone in a small boat for the past week. The fact of being alone wasn't the problem, but for someone who was born and raised in land for almost 30 years, seeing nothing but blue all around him was a threatening experience. Now, with the strange black vegetation of Schwartz Island in front of his eyes, he was ready to move on with his duty.

"Purupurupuru." Before he left the beach, the sound coming from inside his kimono caught his attention. A call was expected, but not this soon. He took the snail from the piece of cloth from his chest; it had a black shell and wore a small white hat. Answering it, the voice of a man could be heard.

"It seems you're already in the island, Kurosawa." The man said, which Kurosawa responded. "Yes, Father. I managed to reach it."

"Very well." The man continued. "The information broker is somewhere in this island. Be carefully careful. We can't trust him this much, but he has a good reputation in the Underworld. You already know what you have to do." The snail kept a calm expression all over the conversation.

"Yes, Father." Kurosawa answered.

"You're a man of a few words, as ever. Be well." The snail returned to its inactive state as the call ended. Kurosawa put the snail once again inside his clothes, heading towards the nearest city in search of the information broker.