Chapter 325 Gunpowder
In front of the members of the Third Parliament, Fina spoke with righteous indignation, even showing amazing sharpness and talent, but privately she was still unsure.
She was young and a girl. Even though she was the sister of the leader of the Land Freedom Party and the special envoy of Mr. Ghost of the People's Party, in the eyes of the members of the Third Parliament, the more friendly ones regarded her as a member of the new generation and someone who needed to be cared for, while the less friendly ones chose to ignore her. There were some unpleasant words in private that they did not dare to say to Mr. Ghost.
Fina was not discouraged by this, nor did she ever think of asking Mr. Ghost for help. She was still young, and one day she would have the prestige and power that truly belonged to her, simply because of "Fina".
But now, when the members of the Third Parliament slowly dispersed, the girl's shoulders slumped, and the forced confidence on her face suddenly disappeared, leaving only deep anxiety and worry.
Who wouldn't be anxious? Who wouldn't be worried? The person they were challenging was the ruler of this country. If the royal family really decided to break off relations and send troops to arrest them...
"What are you afraid of? We have already discussed such hypothetical issues." Perhaps because she had been standing in front of Mr. Ghost's desk for too long, the other party asked calmly without raising his head - but it sounded more like a statement.
"...I know there's a contingency plan," Fina quietly glanced at the large map of the royal city behind the black-haired young man, but couldn't help but mutter under her breath, "But they're the royal city army, and they have the Silver Helm Knights, and we're just a bunch of peasants..."
"Who says we're just a bunch of peasants?" The man took the time to look up at her. His expression didn't change much, but it was strangely reassuring. He glanced at the clock and suddenly said, "It's time."
In Fina's suddenly widened eyes, a figure slowly emerged from the darkness behind the ghost.
"It's fine if you didn't cheer when I saw you," the black-haired, brown-skinned assassin crossed his arms and sneered, "In the end, all you said was 'We're here'. Tsk."
He looked inexplicably angry.
"Good morning, Ole." The professor glanced at the assassin without changing his expression. "If you want to cheer..."
He thought for a moment, then suddenly let out an expressionless "Wow" in front of Fina's horrified eyes. Then, facing the assassin's distorted expression as if he had seen a ghost, he asked seriously, "Are you satisfied?"
Ole: “…”
He quickly glanced at his brother's half-smiled face that had appeared in the corner, then quickly turned his head and apologized sincerely, "I'm sorry, I was wrong. Please be normal."
Fina also left in a daze. Seeing the junior leave, the assassin's face fell again in anger at Yu's warning look. "Before, I said I wanted to come too, but you refused to let me come, saying that you had a reason to stay in Port Morris - and it turned out to be because of that annoying tin can!"
"We must also take the opportunity to deal with the traitors and spies within the party, suppress the local troops nearby who want to take advantage of the chaos to rob, and expand the intelligence network." The professor added calmly.
"Do I have to take action against that bunch of trash?" Orel immediately showed contempt on his face and was extremely arrogant.
The Blooming Conference sounded very interesting. Besides, Orel could almost foresee that he would witness with his own eyes the wonderful scene of those annoying old acquaintances in the royal city being so angry that their faces turned red and their necks became thick - it was very interesting just thinking about it.
As a result, the assassin leader, who was so enthusiastic and volunteered, was ruthlessly rejected.
He, the greatest assassin since the end of the century, the dignified "Blood Shadow Orel", was actually! Rejected! And yet his brother could stand beside the tyrant with that incredibly innocent face as if nothing had happened!
Although he knew that this person must have his own reasons, it did not prevent the assassin from feeling quite unhappy about it, and he always felt that he was being excluded.
"Now you've summoned me and Shadow Chaser to the royal city, but you're just walking your dog." He made no secret of his ill will towards the tyrant's loyal subordinate in his previous life. "Do you really trust your general to handle that stubborn wretch? Don't go back and find your lair destroyed."
"Based on the current situation and an analysis of Jophiel Yialos's personality, the chances of him suddenly going mad and committing a desperate act are slim, so there's no need for you to personally monitor them," the professor explained seriously. This inexplicably made the assassin, who had originally just wanted to complain—or even act like a spoiled child (though he'd never admit it)—feel a little uneasy. "Besides, we still have Marshiline and Greven here. At the very least, Windrunner is a part of the fighting force. 'The Lair' will be safe."
"As for now, I need you and Shadow Chaser." The assassin's slightly tense jaw was clearly reflected in his smoky gray eyes. "The conflict between the Third Council and the royal family has inevitably reached a complete outbreak. I need you to do your best to protect the safety of the members of the Third Council, and if necessary, lead them to escape from the royal city..."
"...Wait, escape?" Ole, who was originally at a loss after being hit by the Tyrant's straight ball, couldn't help but lower his arms from his chest and frowned. "Is the situation so serious? What did you do in such a short time?"
"I'll explain it to you in detail later." The professor, interrupted, stared at him unhappily, causing the assassin to straighten up subconsciously. "But now, don't interrupt me."
The assassin, who had been a little complacent after not seeing him for a long time, said: "...As you command, Your Majesty—Alright, this was just a joke. I was wrong. Please continue."
But soon, after listening to the tyrant's explanation of the entire plan, the expression on Orel's face that was always mixed with a hint of sarcasm gradually disappeared.
"Even though I'm on your side, Professor," he said slowly, "I have to say you're a fucking lunatic."
"Watch your words and behavior in front of the professor, Ole." Azuka reminded slowly from the side.
"Did you hear what he said?!" The assassin turned his head in disbelief, staring fiercely at his friend's gentle and calm blue eyes - well, this is also an absolute lunatic. He is crazy and only then is he looking for recognition from others. These two people are exactly the same.
"My dark night—"
Ole swallowed his words with difficulty and paced back and forth anxiously in the small office. But he quickly paused and turned to face the professor.
"Do I have any right to refuse?" he asked seriously, his iron-blue eyes flickering with a hint of excitement. As an assassin who has spent years walking between life and death, the second male lead himself is not a cautious person.
To put it bluntly, Ole loves to make trouble, from childhood to adulthood.
"No." The professor looked at him expressionlessly: "Unless you give me a reason to convince me - or you can beat Azuka."
The savior being mentioned was stunned for a moment, then a gentle smile appeared on his face. The sight of his unconditional doting on him was eye-irritating to Orel—look how spoiled he is! He muttered to himself, completely unaware that his attitude towards others had already softened countless times.
The assassin curled his lips, then moved closer to the map, his eyes quickly scanning the names and routes marked with special symbols. Together with the memories of his previous life, he quickly constructed a three-dimensional model of the royal city in his mind, and countless possible escape routes stretched out like a spider web.
"It's a difficult job. But..." The assassin couldn't help but let out a bloodthirsty, yet ferocious smile of excitement. "Compared to dealing with the small fry in Port Morris, it's much more fun to deal with those pigs in the Royal City. I'm sure my wolf cubs think the same. I'll do it, you say."
Then he was slapped hard on the back of the head. Ole hissed in pain and jumped up in anger: "What the hell—you bastard, you want to fight?!"
"Who are you, father?" the savior asked calmly.
Ole was born in the Bloody Market. He was influenced by his surroundings since he was a child and could speak all kinds of swear words. Later, he was beaten by him on the grounds of "Don't lead Marshilin astray" and learned what "politeness" meant.
"I said I'm the father of those nobles and priests!" The assassin protested with a faintly guilty grin, "Why are you so excited? The professor is not angry at all—"
Then, under the gaze of those cold, smoky gray eyes, his voice gradually became quieter, and he finally put down his hand in a sullen manner: "Okay, I was just joking to lighten the mood. Business is more important - please continue."
How come this man is becoming more and more imposing? Ole thought incredulously, he was almost approaching the tyrant he remembered from his past life—only younger, more high-spirited, even more... "healthy and lively," and still so attractive.
...But compared to the terrifying, nightmarish tyrant in his previous life, he still prefers the Majesty in front of him who can mock him mercilessly and viciously, but also cheer for him with an expressionless face.
The assassin's mind wandered to an unknown place. The tyrant, whose majesty was growing more and more pronounced, tapped the table with his knuckles. After the assassin regained his composure, he gave him a warning look and continued his analysis, "The royal family now has a fuse before them. Unfortunately, they've been paralyzed for too long, preoccupied with finding various ways to extinguish the spark, completely forgetting that the fuse ends in a massive powder keg."
"And I also need to pile more fuel into the powder keg. This is bound to be extremely bloody and cruel." At this moment, the ghost seemed unusually cold and calm. "But only in this way can we force other potential supporters to see the true face of the royal family, and make those on our side who still have illusions and still hope for 'peaceful reform' completely wake up. Otherwise, all that awaits us is a hopeless death in retreat and compromise."
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