The Grass is Always Greener

Introductions
This was the spot.

Tabart lifted his arm up, inspecting the time on his watch: 2:35PM. That was the time he was told, yet, there was simply no one here. Was the information faulty or wrong? Or, was he compromised?

Ever since he had begun to get involved with the Underworld, he found that information was far more accessible than anyone could have ever imagined. You could learn about marine routes, locations of infamous, vile criminals, or pretty much whatever you wanted to learn. Devil Fruits, he found, were often the most talked about. However, many of those tales ended merely in myth and rumor.

Though, he was sure that this information was good. The broker he acquired it from had never lied before, so why weren't operatives of the Wung Family here? Did he...

The metal barrel of the gun touched his neck. He exhaled deeply, recognizing what came next. Therefore, he simply put his hands into the air slowly.

"Good," one of the voiced behind him replied. It was a man's voice, rough and coarse as if worn by decades of smoking. Judging from where it came from, he suspected that this man was the only pushing his pistol at the back of Tabart's throat. "Put your hands behind your back. We're going to cuff you, and then put a bag over your head. You follow orders, we won't put a bullet in you."

Tabart didn't move. "Crystal."

Another arm grabbed his arms from behind, moving them until they were both behind his back. Before her heard the cuffs click, he felt them: sea stone. Then, the bag was gently placed over his head, and was directed down the tower where he was currently perched, unaware of where he was heading.