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Central Park and the Small Aircraft – Part 04

Around the same time, at a street corner in Little Italy.

It was a bright summer morning, sunlight glinting off the pavement.

Restaurants and cafés lined the street, their signs splashed in red, green, and white. The air was thick with dust, grease, and the mouthwatering smell of food.

Kazuya Kujou rounded the corner on a black bicycle, balancing a suitcase in one hand while skillfully steering with the other.

“First day as a newspaper reporter. Let’s do this!”

He skidded to a stop in front of a large restaurant at the crossroads.

Pulling a note from his pocket, he glanced up at the sign. “If what he told me yesterday is true, this should be Nicholas Sacco’s place.”

The sign read: Roma Café.

One of Little Italy’s oldest establishments, it was a third-generation family-owned restaurant. Its cheerful sign hung over the sidewalk, and the rich aroma of tomato sauce wafted through the air.

Kazuya hopped off his