Chapter 123 Chapter 123 Did you hear that? We all like to live...

Also wanted by the authorities, Giotto Vongola's activities had to go underground.

If the Assassins had known before the war that they would one day be mingling with the Vongola, they would have been in an uproar. Even if they hadn't, they would have been horrified. After all, this ancient Assassin sect has so many secrets to keep!

But in that bloody battle, in fact, the Vongola and them had long been indistinguishable from each other.

They were all Sicilians. They all fought for the same ideal, were wanted by the same Bourbon dynasty, and were forced to walk in the same darkness. When war came, Giotto and his Vongola rushed to the front more than anyone else, fighting more bravely than anyone else!

If that's the case, why shouldn't we trust Vongola? Why shouldn't we consider Vongola as our companions?

Just as they respected their mentor, the assassins respected the fallen Vongola leader.

As for what Giotto, the Vongola leader, known for his charisma, passion, fighting spirit, and ever-glorious spirit, was like when he was with their mentor in private, the assassins had no way of knowing. Right now, for example, Giotto lay grotesquely in a "human nest" of cushions and blankets, like a noodle, sighing loudly and melancholy.

"What's wrong?" Elio said.

What the assassins probably couldn't have imagined was that their mentor, Elio, always as steady and reliable as a mountain, always able to tear open a path of light in the darkness like thunder and lightning, was now leaning to one side, covering his face with the letter in his hand in an ungainly manner, and sighing deeply. The paper on his face blew, making a fluttering sound like the wings of a paper bird.

"Without sunlight," Giotto said, "I feel a little dead."

"It's raining today, Giotto."

"...Without fresh air," Giotto changed his words decisively, "I feel a little dead."

"You are our sun, Giotto," said Elio, dying. "Look in the mirror."

Giotto uttered a cry of mistreatment, "You are still our light, Elio!"

Elio uncovered the letter on his face. He looked at Giotto in silence, and Giotto looked at him in silence, and they found that they both had a sympathetic expression.

"It's not easy being a leader," said Elio.

"Who says it isn't true?" Giotto sighed. "We are clearly the most powerful fighting force..."

He didn't finish his words, but Elio understood. They were clearly the strongest fighting force, but because they were also the organization's strongest pillars, people were afraid to let them out and take risks. Fighting power is common, but cohesion is not. If even they were lost on the battlefield, Sicily would probably be truly doomed.

They were silent for a moment, then Elio changed the subject.

"Speaking of combat prowess," Elio shook the letter in his hand, "it's said that a rebel who can also use fire appeared on the northern battlefield."

"oh?"

"Red Flame," Elio said. "The Roman Brotherhood describes him as a man of great combat ability, yet cautious, low-key, humble, and tolerant. He started out as a member of the self-defense group."

Giotto's eyebrow rose. "You sound very optimistic about him."

"We need cooperation between the North and the South. After all, no one wants to repeat the failure of 1848." Elio handed him the letter. "Look, this is his wanted poster."

Giotto took it and glanced at it. Just that one glance (Elio even suspected he hadn't even looked closely), and suddenly, as if he had been in the sun for three days, his spirits suddenly perked up. Before Elio could react, Giotto sprang nimbly from beside him, shouting excitedly, "Cozart! It's Cozart!!!"

Elio was also bounced by the cushion beneath him, neither too hard nor too soft, and sat up inexplicably. "What's going on?"

"Don't you understand, Elio? It's Cozart!" Giotto waved the wanted poster and walked around the room twice. "Ah, I forgot you've never seen him before. That was when we were just teenagers!"

Elio muttered, "You weren't even twenty when I met you."

But Giotto, who was obviously in high spirits, ignored his words, rushed up to him, and grabbed Elio's hand. "That was all before I founded the Self-Defense Corps! The day we met, he deliberately left his wallet in Paul's warehouse because he sympathized with Paul's family who were being deprived and mistreated by the landlord... I can guarantee, Elio, he is a guy as good as me and as good as you! In fact, even the idea of ​​the Self-Defense Corps was told to me by Cozart. I always thought he was a boss who was smarter, more far-sighted, and better at hiding his shortcomings than me--"

"Alright, alright," Elio grabbed his hand and shook it, "We'll arrange for the assassin to contact him."

Giotto fell silent. But his gleaming eyes never left Elio. Soon, Elio gave in. "Well, what do you want to do?"

Giotto smiled, "If you ask me, the three of us should meet!"

Elio hesitated. It had been over a decade since Giotto's first encounter! Who could guarantee that Cozart hadn't changed? Furthermore, with their current identities forced to remain hidden, meeting a wanted man who also operated in the shadows was no easy task.

Perhaps sensing his hesitation, Giotto continued, "Elio, do you remember the first time Virgil and I met? I said at the time, 'It is impossible to drive out the rulers by the strength of the Sicilians alone, nor by the strength of the Italians alone, no matter how powerful we are'!"

"…and the Master replied, 'We must use all the strength we can and unite all the forces that can be united.'" Elio murmured, "Perhaps you are right, Giotto, and I am being too cautious."

"No, I'm asking you to take the risk," Giotto squeezed his hand. "Don't you know how many malicious spies your caution has helped all of us identify in advance? But this time, I promise you, Cozart is as trustworthy as Gatlin, as trustworthy as I am! I will find a way to contact him. I only ask one thing of you, Elio - wait until Cozart agrees to meet, and then you agree to meet too!"

Now that he had said that, Elio certainly couldn't disagree.

The Vongola immediately dispatched a letter to northern Italy. Roughly two weeks later, Sicily received a reply from the Simon family. Giotto, of course, immediately brought the letter to Elio, and before he could even open it, Elio was already deeply impressed by the legendary Cozart. Considering the arduous journey these two letters had taken by sea, rail, and land, Cozart could only have replied the same day, or even immediately, for Sicily to receive his reply so quickly.

Sure enough, Giotto read out the good news with joy.

My dear friend,

"I didn't even know you were alive! I can't describe the feelings I had when I received your letter, just as I can't describe the feelings I had when I learned of the suffering in Sicily. I'm so sorry I was tied up in the war against Austria and couldn't come to help.

"But knowing that you and our mutual friend Gatlin are still alive and well and still fighting for Italy is what means the most to me.

"I can't go into details here, but I want you to know that I'm really looking forward to the day I can meet you and your friends. I can't wait!

"Always your friend, Cozart."

"P.S. Although I just said I can't wait, Joe, please be cautious. You know, I'd rather see you in your prime."

Elio laughed at this. He teased Giotto, "Did you hear that? We all like you when you're full of energy."

Giotto would push back his fluffy golden hair and say triumphantly, "It's not my fault that I'm so popular!"

"Come on," Elio shushed him. "Let's get down to business. You're a local, where do you think we should meet?"

Two months later, in Genoa, in a private room on the second floor of Xunfang Rose Garden.

The city was chosen by Giotto (the Kingdom of Sardinia, a wonderful commercial city-state, with no secret police to monitor the passengers passing through the port and docks), the location was contacted by Elio (no doubt the Italian Brotherhood had expanded the shop opened by the Assassin Paola during the Renaissance), and the time was confirmed by Cozart ("As I said in my last letter, I can't wait!" he wrote).

As soon as Cozart entered, his eyes lit up at Giotto. Giotto immediately stood up, a smile of joy, like old friends meeting. They walked towards each other, extending their hands almost simultaneously, and hugged each other tightly, even touching cheeks.

Elio, an American who was not used to this kind of European etiquette, turned his head nonchalantly and observed the street below. What a bustling scene with people coming and going and cars!

"I can't believe it," Cozart exclaimed, "We haven't seen each other for over ten years!"

"Me too, Cozart!"

After they separated, they held hands for a while longer ("I heard about the trouble you caused the Austrians in northern Italy. You really haven't changed at all, Cozart!" "I also heard about your work in Sicily. They call you a legend!"), carefully observed each other's changes ("Joe, you have white hair!" "What?!" "Haha, I'm kidding."), and then let go of each other.

"Elio, this is Cozart, my old friend, now the head of the Simon family." Giotto turned to Elio and introduced them. "Cozart, this is the like-minded friend I told you about. His name is Elio, and he is the Mentor of the Sicilian Assassins."

They shook hands. "You are Giotto's friend," Cozart said to Elio without hesitation. "That's my friend!"

Elio couldn't help but laugh. "This is only our first meeting, and you've already interrupted me!"

Cozart was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter. Elio discovered that his hearty laughter was surprisingly similar to Giotto's. The red-haired young man shook Elio's hand in a friendly manner and said to Giotto, "I like him!"

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The author has something to say: Oreo usually says: I don’t have a nationality

Oreo, when I saw the kiss: I am American

And Oreo, when he saw Cozart: Giotto, you said he had red hair! (There is no color on the wanted poster)