Chapter 152 Chapter 152 "Are you very touched?" Giotto asked...

After confirming that Elio was alive and well, with no missing limbs or incoherent speech (which was doubtful), Alvin bid farewell to the Vongola with peace of mind. As for Elio, who insisted he had some matters to attend to, Alvin ignored him. After all, he still had to rush to get Elio a new Hidden Blade.

The assassin, without his Hidden Blade, adapted well. Returning to Vongola Castle felt like coming home. He couldn't believe that, after over a hundred years, the Vongola still had that room for him!

In response, the tenth Vongola smiled and said, "That was what the first one specifically instructed us to do. Oh, and there's also the annual pension reserved for you."

This time, Elio didn't refuse. However, he felt that the Vongola had managed the property for so long that there was no need to give it all to him. Elio entrusted the Vongola with its continued management. Tsunayoshi Sawada, having foreseen this, immediately established a trust fund and opened a personal account for Elio at the Bank of Luxembourg, where his earnings would be deposited regularly. He also provided him with an American Express Centurion card with its own assistant. Finally, if Elio had any urgent needs, he could still apply for a project.

Although this was the first time Elio had received such hospitality in modern times, he felt subtly familiar with the style.

That was how he was treated in his previous life.

Elio glanced at the number on the paper and put down the countless zeros he had counted. "Is this my salary?" he asked with a smile.

"'Salary' is used to reward employees, if that's what you're asking." The Tenth Vongola laughed. "Personally, I prefer to call it 'pocket money' for family members. Of course, I won't deny the possibility of asking you for help one day, but you still have the right to refuse."

Elio looked at him quietly for a moment, then leaned back in his chair and smiled.

"Although I can't possibly have met him," Elio said, "but from you, I can imagine the style of the first Vongola."

It was supposed to be a pleasant remark, but somehow, the Tenth Vongola silently averted his gaze, a rare expression of embarrassment visible. Elio couldn't help but wonder: he was certain he had read that hint of embarrassment, even though Sawada Tsunayoshi's eyes only turned away for a moment, then quickly returned as if nothing had happened, modestly replying, "How can I compare to that person's elegance?"

Elio didn't know why he was suddenly embarrassed.

To avoid that topic, Sawada Tsunayoshi quickly opened the map on his phone and pointed it out to Elio. "I also left you a vacation estate there, in case you want to bring friends to Italy. It's fine if you're alone, but if your friends also live in the Vongola, it would probably be awkward for them, right?"

But after seeing the address, Elio lost track of what he was saying. His mind wandered, and he almost rudely grabbed Sawada Tsunayoshi's phone to examine the estate on the map more closely—the ochre-colored estate nestled on a verdant hillside, with twelve evergreen cypress trees lining the wide gravel driveway, and the gardens, shrubs, and fountains rustling and tinkling in the evening breeze.

They had stood there, chatting and laughing. Looking up, they saw the dusk falling; looking down, they saw the fertile fields stretching out for miles, and in the small towns stretching endlessly, they saw the people protected by the Vongola.

"...How come they're exactly the same?" Elio muttered, "Even though more than a hundred years have passed..."

It’s been more than a hundred years!

"Then there was another war in Europe, and everything was a mess," said the Vongola behind him. "The Vongola even lost the castle at one point and had to retreat to the manor. You didn't see the chaos! However, after we recaptured the castle and ended the war, I still had them take the time to repair the manor and restore it to its original state. Exactly the same, right?"

When he first spoke, Elio thought it was the Tenth Vongola who had come to bring him here. But after a few words, Elio turned his head and looked at the speaker with a look of shock. The "Vongola" who had spoken simply finished his words as if nothing had happened, then turned his gaze from the beautiful scenery they were looking out at and looked at Elio with a smile.

"Are you touched?" asked Giotto.

Elio stammered, "You—how did you—"

He wanted to ask Giotto how he got there, whether he was a human or a ghost, and many more questions. But those questions, rushing to burst out of his throat like a spring, got stuck instead. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Elio burst into tears. As if anticipating this, Giotto smiled and offered him a handkerchief, which Elio quickly pressed to his face. In a warm halo, he felt Giotto gently embrace him.

"Welcome back, our friend," Giotto said gently.

Then it was Gatling who lit up with red flames, "I've been waiting for you for a long time, Elio!"

Rambo's green flame cried as he rushed over, almost making Elio fall over unprepared. "I thought we would never see each other again!"

Yu Yue said nothing, only smiled and took off the flute from his waist. To his gentle music, Knuckles and Arnold appeared. Elio snatched the handkerchief from his face with one hand and held Rambo with the other. Tears hadn't dried yet, and new ones flowed. But just as he was overwhelmed with emotion, unsure of what to say, the last blue-purple flame lit up.

Elio frowned, letting go of Rambo, who was wiping tears from his clothes, and stared at the flame suspiciously. Spedo slowly appeared and greeted him cautiously, "Let me make this clear..."

Elio sneered. Giotto glanced at the other Guardians behind him, and Gatlin and Arnold immediately and tacitly held down Spedo. Just like before, Elio rushed forward, grabbed Spedo's collar and punched him.

"Hey!" Spedo yelled.

"Long time no see," Elio greeted him gently, "an old friend who wanted to kill me."

"I didn't mean to kill you at all!" Spedo protested. "I only wrote to Simon. Who knew you'd come all the way here the moment you heard Giotto was trapped? Can you blame me for that?!"

Elio translated, "Oh, you mean to say you didn't mean to kill me?"

"Are you being careless on purpose?" Lan Bao continued.

"Just going with the flow," Arnold commented.

Nakel scratched his head, "Are you here already?"

Yu Yue hesitated, "Buy one, get one free?"

Gatlin was speechless. "How could you say that?"

Giotto folded his arms, smiling broadly, as he watched Spedo's predicament as the crowd raged. The two-time Mist Keeper rolled his eyes, about to offer a defense, but when he met Giotto's smiling gaze, Spedo couldn't help but sweat profusely, muttering almost humbly, "Welcome back."

"I didn't hear you," Elio said. "Speak louder."

Spedo gritted his teeth, "Elio, I'm warning you—"

Giotto raised an eyebrow.

"-Welcome back!" Spedo closed his eyes and shouted.

He braced himself for Elio's continued taunting. In the hazy darkness of his closed eyelids, Spedo could still sense Elio's gaze fixed on him. What would Elio say? Would he point to the letter, the "French assassin" who had guided him, the rumors of Giotto's entrapment?

They all knew that Spedo hadn't intended to kill him. Just like the reason he killed the Simon family, Elio stood against Spedo.

If only Elio had never come back. If only Elio hadn't written back then. If only Elio had simply vanished and never heard from her again! Even Spedo sometimes wondered, with a wistful air, why had he come back at all?

For the Vongola...Damon Speedo would do anything.

This illusionist named after the devil did it willingly and without regrets.

The traitor, who considered himself "without regret," closed his eyes, waiting for Elio's next move. But he never got there. Elio seemed to just stare at his face, silent. When Spedo finally couldn't help but open his eyes to see what he was doing, Elio loosened his collar.

"I'm back," Elio said finally.

He felt a warmth on his back, and two familiar arms wrapped around his neck. It must have been Giotto hugging him from behind, his furry hair brushing against his face. Elio, amused by him, held out his arms. The other guardians looked at each other, then smiled and hugged him too.

"Welcome back!" they shouted again.

The next day, when Elio woke up, he heard intense rock music blaring from the driveway. Yawning, he stuck his head out and saw a royal blue Ferrari parked there. A green-marked "ally" appeared to be lying in the driver's seat, playing with his phone.

Rokudo Mukuro? Elio wondered uncertainly.

The assassin retreated, changed his clothes, and walked around the manor. The Vongola I's who had been partying there the previous night had long since vanished, like a dream in Elio's mind. Elio gathered his things, closed the doors and windows, and took one last look inside.

It was as if a shadow flashed by at the end of the corridor.

"How could I possibly bring friends here?" Elio laughed. "And let them be frightened by ghosts?"

The cup on the table clattered and was pushed to the ground. Elio walked over uncomplainingly, picked it up, blew on it, and put it back on the table. "I'm leaving now," he said. "See you next time."

Elio walked out of the main house. He walked slowly through the fountain and gardens and onto the driveway. Rokudo Mukuro rolled down the window, tugged his sunglasses down with his fingers, and gave Elio a look that seemed to be about to say something but was hesitant.

"Why are you here?" Elio asked him.

"…Originally, Sawada Tsunayoshi said he would come pick you up," Rokudo Mukuro said slowly, "He probably thought this would allow him to avoid the quarterly review this morning."

Elio raised an eyebrow, walked around the front of the car, and sat in the passenger seat. Why couldn't he just say, "I'm here to pick you up?" Elio wondered. But he wisely didn't ask such a question. He just said, "Then why didn't he come?"

"He was playing the new NS2 Warriors game with Simon's kid last night," Rokudo Mukuro backed away with the steering wheel, "and he didn't get up this morning."

Elio said, "Simon..."

The Ferrari drew a beautiful arc in the driveway and turned around to drive out of the manor.

"The First Vongola left you another gift," Rokudo Mukuro pushed his sunglasses back on. "It's in the storage box, take it yourself."

Elio didn't move. He glanced at Rokudo Mukuro, about to say something. Rokudo Mukuro glanced at him and said nothing.

"Did you know that?" Elio asked tentatively. He was referring to the fact that he was a member of the 19th century Vongola. Rokudo Mukuro seemed to fully understand what he meant and turned away a little embarrassedly. "It's hard not to know, right?"

Elio touched his nose and opened the storage box. A small gift box fell out. Elio untied the ribbon and opened the box, revealing a velvet cloth wrapped around a chain, and a gemstone-carved ring resting on top. It imitated a laurel wreath of olive branches and bay leaves, but strangely, the tiny golden petals adorning it were those of the most common and tiniest Italian broom.

Elio pondered for a moment, puzzled, and then suddenly recalled the celebration banquet in 1861. The wreath that Maria had placed on his head with her own hands.

Rokudo Mukuro observed his expression from behind his sunglasses. But Elio simply stared at the gift for a moment, then smiled softly.

Inside the gift box was a note written in Giotto's handwriting, "Italy and Vongola should never forget you."

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The author has something to say: Okay, the rewards for Oreo’s long journey have been distributed!