Chapter 103 Chapter 103 Giotto conquers again without bloodshed...
As the town's militia, under Elio's command and leadership, engaged in a fierce battle, Giotto and his companions arrived at the estate, only to discover that it was now occupied by a different, more informed mafia group. The new mafia leader claimed to be seeking revenge for his brother, but his mere presence in the estate revealed his true intentions.
Upon noticing Giotto and his group's arrival, he feigned a sympathetic air by inviting Giotto and Gatlin inside, promising a chat. Giotto's other half of the self-defense group reluctantly remained at the doorway, glaring at each other fiercely. The two men who truly held the reins, however, wore cheerful smiles, practically declaring them sworn brothers before entering the manor together.
"Giotto, Giotto," the little chief poured him a glass of wine affectionately, "it's really very rude of you to come visit me with so many people!"
"Who says it isn't?" Giotto also smiled and raised his glass. "But no matter how I persuade them, they won't stay at home peacefully instead of coming here to seek justice for the others."
Only Gatlin knew this was their first meeting. He stood silently behind Giotto, unable to force a smile. Perhaps sensing his expression, Giotto raised his glass without turning back and said, "Try it, Gatlin. Perhaps Elio would like it."
Gatlin lowered his head, tasted Giotto's hand, and then, facing the leader's unhappy expression, replied, "It's hard to say."
Giotto smiled and placed his wine glass on the table. He leaned back, resting his hands on the armrests, and then folded his legs onto the table. The leader stared at him with a sullen expression, but Giotto remained silent, only smiling. Although he couldn't see Giotto's expression, Gatlin's face also smiled at his behavior. If he was polite, Giotto pointed the sole of his shoe at the person opposite him, as if he was going to step on their face. But if he was impolite, Giotto politely tilted his head, indicating that the leader should continue.
It would be miraculous that he could endure this. But the leader actually endured it, saying that although he had injured Giotto's men, he had not killed them, and it was Giotto who started the fight first. Now that things had come to this, it was better for everyone to take a step back. He volunteered to help deal with the manor and even offered a favorable price to continue to protect the towns that had lost their umbrella, as long as Giotto was willing to bring his men with him.
"Oh," Giotto suddenly realized, "Gatling, listen too! It turns out he has taken a fancy to both of us!"
It was indeed because of their magical flame. The chief tried to persuade him, but Giotto just kept beating around the bush, saying that the chair was very comfortable to sit on, and then that the cloud that just passed by was very beautiful. It was not until the chief could no longer tolerate it and threatened to break into the town that Giotto put away his smile and looked at him intently.
Then, just when the leader thought he had finally found Giotto's weakness, the young leader of the self-defense group in front of him, who was not even twenty years old, suddenly burst into laughter. "Are you really that sure?"
The leader was certainly certain. At least, he had been. Seeing Giotto and Gatlin, two powerful warriors, rushing toward him, he secretly rejoiced, confident that the group he had sent by the shortcut to besiege the town was safe. But just as he tried to convince Giotto, Giotto pointed out: "That person stumbling towards us on the roadside at the foot of the mountain outside the window, that's one of yours, right?"
Needless to say, what happened next, Giotto grabbed the leader's collar with a smile and dragged him out of the manor, showing his men their unconscious boss; plus the militiamen from the self-defense group he brought with him also rolled up their sleeves and gestured, and the former mafia members immediately understood the situation and dropped their weapons.
So, Giotto conquered the estate again without bloodshed.
Then, after arranging for Gatlin to stay behind, Giotto, seemingly composed and calm, immediately rushed back towards the town. While his previous confidence wasn't entirely fake, with his hometown surrounded, how could he not be worried? But when he arrived, before even entering the town, he smelled the delicious aromas wafting from every kitchen, and a reassuring smile spread across Giotto's face.
He was no longer in a hurry and walked in slowly. He even had the leisure to smell the noodles cooked by the family. They must have poured tomato sauce on them, which had a sour and sweet aroma. The sardine and clam seafood soup stewed by the family was very fresh, and had a fried and burnt aroma that made Giotto's stomach growl.
Today is also a hard day. He couldn't help but think so.
Finally, someone noticed Giotto and hurried out of the kitchen with a bowl in hand. While cordially inviting Giotto to have a bite first, he excitedly described the battle scene to him, "Oh, you didn't see it! Elio..."
Giotto didn't hesitate, taking a sip of the seafood soup, but not for long. He listened with a smile and then asked where Elio was. He had been looking for him all the way, hearing all the legends about Elio. At first, the militiamen praised him for fighting like Roland the Knight, wielding a sword with divine power. Then, the story got twisted, saying he was the reincarnation of Mars, the god of war. Giotto couldn't help but laugh.
As for the newly-crowned "God of War Mars", he was completely unaware of all this. He just sat in the tanner's yard holding his sword, quietly listening to the tanner playing on a belt he was mending, saying it was a hand-me-down from his grandmother's grandmother, and nodding in applause from time to time.
Giotto, listening from behind, couldn't help but laugh to himself: If that belt had really been there that long, it would have been shattered into pieces by now! It was Elio who didn't understand this, so he believed the leatherworker's boast. From his perspective, the belt must have been made only a few years ago.
However, Giotto also understood the leatherworker's feelings for giving him the belt. After all, it was made of leather and was worth a lot of money. He must have given it out of pure gratitude, wanting to thank Elio for all he had done for them.
When the leatherworker finally finished making the belt that had been converted into a sword belt and handed it to Elio, Giotto appeared with a smile, took the sword belt and put it on Elio, and carefully adjusted its position for Elio.
"Hurry and eat," said Giotto to the cobbler, "I am coming from your house; your wife is calling you."
The cobbler, absorbed in his work, slapped his head and ran off in a hurry, forgetting to put away his tools. Giotto couldn't help laughing, and he and Elio packed up his things for him to avoid leaving them outside and getting damaged by the rain at night.
"You seem to be missing another ring on your finger," Giotto said casually.
Elio regretted, "It's broken." If it weren't for this, he probably wouldn't have thought of making a sword belt and hanging Sujie's Eagle on it. Otherwise, if all his rings were broken, when he needed to use the sword, he wouldn't be able to open the box and take out the things, and it would be too late.
"Is everything going well at the manor?" Elio asked again.
"With my help," said Giotto, "there is nothing that cannot be solved!"
Elio laughed. Giotto laughed too, put his arm around Elio's shoulders, and together they left the leatherworker's place.
"Where did you get that sword?" Giotto whispered in his ear. "Can you tell me?"
Elio thought for a moment and said, "It's not very convenient."
"Okay," Giotto stopped asking, but whispered, "Remember, when you ride, hold the hilt of your sword back, otherwise it's easy to poke the horse's belly."
Elio thought about it and it seemed to be true. He couldn't help but wonder, "You even know this."
"You should be more careful about your secrets!" Giotto slapped his head in frustration. "It's one thing not to know how to wear a sword, but what kind of swordsman doesn't even know how to wear a sword belt?"
Elio hadn't expected Giotto to slap him. He clutched his head in shock for a moment, then fell silent, wanting to speak but unable to. Alvin hadn't taught him this, and it wasn't Elio's fault for not studying it himself. Who in the modern world would have imagined they'd need these little sword techniques? Remember, the last person seen wielding a sword while shopping was a star actor who was stopped and questioned by the police.
Giotto gave him a look, then loosened his arm around his shoulders and resumed his normal conversational tone, "Pack up and move with us to the manor, Elio. There's the single room you've always dreamed of."
Elio was stunned at first, not even paying attention to Giotto's teasing. He asked directly, "Have you decided to move there?"
"Yes," said Giotto, "just as you said, it has a wide view, convenient transportation, and most importantly, it is easy to defend but difficult to attack. I was lucky these two times and was able to break in without any trouble, but I'm not sure about the next time."
Giotto's words soon came to pass. The nobles and the police soon arrived, but with Giotto's impressive record of busting two mafia gangs in quick succession, they didn't dare act too aggressively. They simply negotiated with him politely, treating him as the next mafia leader, lording over their own territory. Because the two mafias each had their own sphere of influence, Giotto ultimately tacitly took over their territory. He only helped train the town's militia and rarely visited them.
During this period, Elio rarely left the house. Gatling was busy following Giotto around all day, while Elio taught the militia and anyone else who wanted to learn swordsmanship, as well as some basic combat techniques. Guns and ammunition were hard to come by, but wooden swords were readily available, and if necessary, a few steel swords could be cobbled together. In an era when hot weapons were difficult to come by, cold weapons, any longer in length, offered an advantage.
Speaking of guns and ammunition, Gatling's shooting skills have also improved by leaps and bounds; when he first touched the gun, Elio was standing there watching, ready to help, but he just said a few words about how to use it, and Gatling only missed the first few shots, but then he almost hit the target every time, hitting whatever he pointed at, which left Elio completely stunned.
So what was the point of him being locked up in a VR simulation block by Alvin and trained day and night?
"I thought this thing was hard to use," Gatlin wondered. "I see they never hit the target when they shoot."
"You'd better shut up," Elio suggested, as the others were looking at him with rage.
While his companions' success was certainly gratifying, it was also a shame that he couldn't coax Gatlin into calling him "mentor" (everyone else did!). After managing hundreds of young laborers in the nearby town, Elio found it even more regrettable to realize that prodigies like Gatlin were still a minority. Oh, and Giotto, he also learned almost immediately. Perhaps that had something to do with the flames.
After a while of training new recruits, studying food and drink, and torturing the Lord of the Rings every day, Elio finally picked out a few students who were good at fighting and asked them to train the others. When he was about to relax, Giotto came to his house alone with a new student.
"This is Rambo," he said, pulling out a child from his back, a look that read "I really want to go home" and introducing him to Elio with a smile. "The Povino family has entrusted him to us temporarily. Rambo, this is Elio. You'll stay with him for the time being."
Elio frowned, feeling the child looked familiar. But the green-haired, white-skinned young master, perhaps misinterpreting his expression, immediately began to tremble with fear, closing his eyes and, as if making a profound resolution, uttering a weak, mosquito-like hum, "Teacher!"
Elio, who had a good memory and quickly recalled "Rambo Bovino", hesitated and said, "Giotto, could you please say his name again?"
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The author has something to say: *Mars, the god of land, war, agriculture and spring in Roman mythology, is one of the twelve main gods of Rome.
**During his time filming Aragorn, Viggo Mortensen insisted on always carrying a sword with him to better embody his character. Once, after sword training, he took his sword directly to the streets of New Zealand. He was stopped and questioned by local police, who suspected he was a "dangerous person" or mentally ill (he was subsequently rescued by the crew).
***I checked and found out that at that time, there should have been a mentor-apprentice system in the handicraft and art industries. So, let Oreo experience the feeling of being a mentor first (?)
And the small theater:
When others asked Giotto for asylum, Giotto thought about it for a long time, and finally said reluctantly: Let me give you an Oreo.
Oreo: Is that right?
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