Chapter 113 Chapter 113 What is the Brotherhood of This Era...
"I used to live in a place with strict laws, well, much stricter than here." Elio didn't notice his expression. "So you can imagine how I felt when I discovered the 'Knights Templar'. However, the truth is, it's not just the Templars who are such a behemoth hiding in the shadows of authority."
As soon as he looked up, Spedo's expression immediately changed to one of disbelief. "And?"
"There's also a secret organization that's been fighting them," Elio said. "I was saved by them. I can't tell you or Giotto about this secret organization in detail, but I think..." He thought for a moment and smiled, "Who knows, maybe we'll work together one day."
Spedo stared at him for a moment, then uttered an enigmatic "Oh" and floated away, his teacup in hand. He didn't ask any more questions about the secret organization, which surprised Elio, but also somewhat relieved: the punishment for exposing the Brotherhood was severe.
But then again, where is the brotherhood in this day and age?
It's not that Elio hasn't tried to find them. But he knows nothing about this period in the Brotherhood's history. To be precise, the era of the French Revolution, in which his ancestor Arno Dorian lived, ended long ago at the end of the previous century. Even if we calculate based on the time of Napoleon's second defeat (assuming Arno was still in contact with him), it would have been decades ago in 1815.
The year Elio is currently living in is 1845.
According to the normal life span... (Elio actually doesn't know when Arno was born...)
But no matter what, Elio couldn't possibly go to France just to see Arno - he just learned to speak Italian, but knew nothing about French!
As for the Industrial Revolution, the era in which the Frye twins lived, it seemed to be just beginning. But that story began in 1868. So Elio could only regretfully acknowledge that he lived in an awkward interregnum, with no definitive records of the Brotherhood. Even if there were, they certainly weren't included in the games modern Assassins created based on genetic memory.
But just as Elio was lost in thought, there was a gentle knock on the window. Elio woke up from his reverie, walked around to his desk and opened the window. He was currently in Giotto's office, handling some local matters for him. There were still some red-marked letters he hadn't touched, as Giotto said someone else would handle them.
“Wow,” Elio said.
But he hadn't expected it to be Arnold. The head of Austrian secret intelligence deftly climbed in through the window, looking a little surprised by Elio's presence. But that surprise quickly faded. He nodded politely to Elio and picked up the red-marked letter on the table.
"Giotto asked me to help him with this while he's away from the Vongola," Arnold said.
Elio nodded as well, feeling a bit surprised that Arnold would explain this to him. "Giotto has already said hello to me."
Although he was puzzled by Giotto's actions (not only what he had done, but also why he had the guts to leave such matters to the head of the Austrian Secret Intelligence Service), Elio said nothing. He didn't know how Giotto had mentioned him to Arnold, but Arnold was obviously also suspicious, but probably because of the same psychological process as Elio, he also said nothing.
Thus, he and Arnold shared the room in perfect peace. Aside from the occasional rustling of pages and the rustling of pens, the room was peacefully quiet. But despite the frequent need to write, neither of them sat in Giotto's usual chair behind the desk, even though it would have been much more convenient. Instead, they sat facing each other on two sofas, working on the papers that had been improvised and piled on their knees.
"The Ministry has released some documents," Arnold said suddenly. "They've been banned for thirty years. I'm studying them."
As he spoke, he hurriedly wrote something on the letter. Elio was initially absorbed in the gossip about people breaking off engagements, fighting over water and land, and didn't react for a moment, but then he realized something.
"Are you talking to me?" Elio asked, a little puzzled.
Arnold looked up at him. It was a look that said, "Well, what else?" Elio gave him a look that said, "Why are you telling me that?" But Arnold casually pulled out another letter and continued working on Giotto, his head lowered, as if he were just chatting.
"Arnold" and "chatter." Think about it. It's like seeing a horse in the ocean.
"About Bonaparte." But Arnold went on talking to himself.
"Oh, Napoleon Bonaparte," Elio wondered. "But I still don't understand why you bring that up."
"When he was in office," Arnold said, "intelligence indicated that he had a 'guardian angel' around him. My predecessor was unable to confirm it, but he recorded it."
This time, he glanced at Elio as he looked up. Elio was also looking at him with a raised eyebrow, but he didn't ask why. He simply put down the gossip in his hand, folded his arms, and leaned back, assuming a posture that said, "Please continue. I'm listening."
"Like other 'guardian angels' with swords, Bonaparte's guardian angel fights like a demon," Arnold said. "His face is covered by a hood, and he's lost in the smoke and crowd – so his identity remains a mystery. But we do know a few things: a small sword strapped to his wrist and a scar on his face."
He didn't lower his head again, pretending that they were concentrating on their work. When Arnold raised his head, his eyes lingered on the extra-thick wrist guard on Elio's arm for a moment, and then fell meaningfully on the scar on Elio's face that crossed the bridge of his nose and continued across the left side of his face.
Elio shrugged, "So?"
The assassin was prepared for Arnold to fire at him for this. After all, if it weren't for this, why would he have gone through so much trouble to start with the secret documents? Arnold probably guessed something from Elio's expression of refusing to admit it but still staring at him. At least, Elio thought he guessed something.
They stared at each other for a moment, in this tacit understanding of "I know what you're talking about, but I'm pretending not to know what you're talking about, and I'm pretending not to know that you know I know what you're talking about." The silence was audible.
"That happened thirty years ago." But Arnold immediately lowered his gaze, as if gracefully retreating from a fight. "No one would associate you with him. But there's still a possibility that someone with a vivid imagination might view you differently, or even be 'curious' about the origins of your signature French swordsmanship. Plus, with the unsealed documents, I won't be the only one to notice this. You should be more careful."
If Elio's expression had been quite reserved just now, then after Arnold spoke, Elio's expression became a little confused. And after hearing Arnold's gentle last words, Elio's expression could even be described as stunned.
He remained stunned silent for a moment, staring at Arnold in bewilderment. The latter flipped through a few pages of documents as usual, finishing up his work for the day, and then meticulously stacked them neatly, placing them on the corner of Giotto's desk.
"You're not going to ask me why I told you this," Arnold said.
Elio admitted it vaguely, out of embarrassment. But Arnold looked at him for a moment, a rare, subtle smile. Instead of speaking directly, he offered praise, "I heard everything you said the other day. It was very noble."
Elio quickly realized he was referring to the time he went back into the fire to save people. "Anyone would do that."
"That's not necessarily true," Arnold said. The Austrian stood up, looking down to adjust his sleeves. It looked like a sign to leave. Out of respect for him, Elio stood up as well (he hadn't been working for a while anyway). This brought them closer physically, and Arnold turned to look at him, his eyebrows suddenly raised in a lively manner.
"At least Spedo wouldn't do that," he said slyly.
Elio almost burst out laughing, then quickly covered the lower half of his face, feigning a pensive expression. Such a clumsy disguise was, of course, useless to the intelligence chief, but he didn't point it out, allowing a flicker of laughter to cross his normally stern expression. Then, he nodded to Elio and walked away.
"See you next time." Elio said to his back.
Arnold didn't look back. This was his usual behavior, and Elio wasn't surprised. What really surprised and comforted Elio was that Arnold actually went out of his way to remind him to be careful. Sitting down again, Elio couldn't help but ponder the deeper meaning of his warning. After all, no one would ever warn another about something that had no warning at all.
Thinking about it, Elio pulled the lab log from his vest pocket. For some reason, Spedo seemed to have forgotten to ask for it, even if it was just for borrowing. But anyway, this did make things easier for Elio.
"Ray," Elio found him and impatiently threw a pile of documents into his arms, "I'm leaving these to you!"
"Seriously? Me?" Lan Bao, who was listening to Yu Yue's music, was caught off guard and hugged them tightly. "What do you want me to do with them?"
"Just use your common sense," Elio patted his shoulder. "If you have any questions, ask Yu Yue. These solutions will eventually be passed on to Knuckles anyway."
Hearing that someone could back him up, Lan Bao immediately relaxed. But Yu Yue immediately reacted, frowning, and moved the shakuhachi away from his mouth. "Are you going out?" he asked, his concerned eyes lingering on Elio. "How is your injury?"
"Don't make a fuss like Giotto, Ugetsu," said Elio gently. "If I stay like this any longer, I'll get moldy."
This was the absolute truth. Although there were other reasons, for example, since he had discovered the shadow of the Knights Templar nearby, the Brotherhood should not be far behind...
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Author's words: Oreo: Start looking for the assassin organization
Assassin's Order: Where is the assassin who burned down the entire Scalera Fortress? Who did it? Admit it now (shakes his family) (looks around) (just missing a portrait)
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