Chapter 139 Chapter 139 I am a family man! ...
Thus, the case of the British government secretly selling arms to Italian terrorists came to an end.
In order not to "disappoint" his secret informant, Hack finally wrote a note to the Prime Minister's residence at the suggestion of Humphrey and Bernard; they were very sure that No. 10 Downing Street would receive the note, but as for whether the Prime Minister himself would receive it, that was beyond their expectations.
Ironically, if Huck had told Elio about this—even though it would never happen, as he neither wanted nor could betray his government and country—then perhaps those Italian terrorists would have gotten their comeuppance soon. But how could he have predicted this?
Even though they all know their government will just do what it always does. That is, do nothing.
But having the Mafia acting as a government agent was a bit beyond their expectations, although this is what is happening in Italy.
"...The Turin Mafia is buying new munitions from the British," Spedo said elegantly. "I find this intolerable."
He tossed the documents in his hand lightly. Those sheets of black ink shouldn't have made much noise, but this was a vastly spacious office. Unlike the former dining room in the manor, it was smaller, but the decorations used for preparing meals made it feel warm and inviting—even when most guardians were absent—like the large glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the kerosene lamp's light shimmering through the colorful glass, and the delicate brass candlesticks on the mahogany sideboard, complementing the wall sconces and emitting a warm glow.
Not to mention the rich, vibrant oriental carpets, crimson velvet curtains, and pastoral paintings, and the feeling they gave the Vongola people. Back then, they were just a self-defense group.
It was hard to tell if Giotto's silence was spent reminiscing about the restaurant-turned-office, and the family members who, at that time, weren't scattered around the world. Vongola I briefly lowered his head, resting his elbows on the table, and slowly rubbed his temples, as if lost in thought, or perhaps lost in thought.
He wore a black cape. From its chains hung ornate, cold medals, like antlers on a dead hearth, or swords and flintlock pistols on a stone wall. They were all symbols of glory forged in blood.
"One lifetime," Spedo reminded him.
"Ah, yes," said Giotto, as if startled awake by him, "it is intolerable. But will you tell me why it is intolerable, Damon?"
"Don't be stupid, Giotto. This will obviously offend our authority and shake our rule!" Spedo sneered, "There can only be one voice in Italy, and that is Vongola. Vongola will rule--"
"I thought you meant 'take care of'—"
"Whatever you say, dear leader," Spedo replied smoothly, "Anyway, under the 'care' of the Vongola, other small families don't have to find ways to protect themselves, right? This is a peaceful and prosperous era!"
Giotto gave up arguing with him, "So what do you want to do?"
"Of course, we'll punish them," Spedo said without beating around the bush. "Then we'll take control of the trading channels. Elio happens to be in London, right? I think he's the perfect person to handle this."
"Just to punish them for buying arms from the British?" Giotto threw down the document in his hand. "Do you really think this is a reasonable reason?"
"Oh," Spedo deliberately misinterpreted his meaning, "If you need a more reasonable reason, I believe we can always find it." Under Giotto's incredulous stare, Spedo fished out another document from the table and leisurely crossed his legs. "I have a very reliable intelligence source who said that when they were testing this new type of bomb - perhaps because this thing is so new, they failed to properly control the scope of the experiment, and as a result, they 'accidentally' injured and killed some innocent civilians in the crowded streets. Well, those who are supposed to be protected by the Vongola; and those innocent civilians, a total of sixteen injured and three dead, just happen to be..."
Giotto sighed deeply, "What is it?"
"Those that violate their authority. You know," Spedo said, looking up from his papers. "Those that make them uncomfortable."
"Tell me, Damon, is this true?"
"certainly."
"Isn't this something that's going to happen tomorrow?"
"Of course not!" Spedo put down the report in his hand. "This happened today."
Even the time of "today" did not make him look innocent, especially when Spedo folded his hands on his knees and tilted his head to show Giotto his signature mysterious smile, it still looked like he had arranged all this. He knew that Giotto would never refuse to punish the wicked, because their leader was such a pathetic good man.
But the pathetic good man was silent for a moment. Giotto stared at Spedo silently, just staring silently, until Spedo finally turned his head away, sat up straight and pretended to look at the documents in front of him seriously.
"D." Giotto called him gently.
A shiver of embarrassment ran up his spine. Spedo dropped his things, unable to bear it any longer. "You have to play the emotional card at a time like this?"
"I have always considered you my closest friend, D," Giotto said earnestly. "I have always trusted you, relied on you, and even loved you—as a friend, of course."
Spedo grabbed the documents on the table and covered his face with them. "Ugh!"
"I am equally convinced that, as my friend," Giotto pressed on, "you love—"
"I don't love you!" Spedo protested angrily. "I'm a family man!"
"As my friend," Giotto smiled, "you like—"
“I don’t like you either!!!”
"Say what you will, Damon," Giotto said, shrugging and leaning back in his chair, speaking in his confident tone. "But you can't deny that you are my good friend. I'm sure that whatever conversation we have is based on this understanding, isn't it?"
Spedo rolled his eyes.
Giotto pressed him gently, "D?"
Spedo agreed reluctantly, as if his neck was being strangled.
"It is this common understanding," Giotto nodded calmly, "that makes you understand me as deeply as I understand you. You know, Damon, if you only tell me the fact that the Turin people killed innocent people, I will agree to punish them without hesitation. Just say this, and you will achieve your goal."
Spedo tilted his head. "Are you suggesting I say that?"
"I was merely stating the facts," Giotto said, crossing his arms. "You could have done that, but you didn't. You've never been one to complicate matters, so there must be a particular reason for you to act the way you did?"
"Hmph, the answer is right there on the riddle itself, one life." Spedo crossed his arms, imitating Giotto's, and stared at him from across the table. "As I just told you, the authority of the Vongola must not be violated."
"Damon..."
"No, listen to me," Spedo insisted. "You have to know that playing dumb won't work, Giotto! Even if you refuse to be an authority, you already are. Besides, even if you don't do these things, someone else will. And when that happens, it will be your day of disaster. You are our leader! Anyone can defect to the stronger side and live as a traitor, but you are the only one who will be sacrificed!"
Giotto didn't try to stop him from continuing. The Vongola leader simply stared at him silently, with an understanding yet melancholy look in his eyes.
"I do this for your own good, Giotto," Spedo said finally. "You know it."
"And the Vongola ones?" Giotto said.
"And the Vongola." Spedo smiled. He sorted out the documents on his desk and casually copied them to his side, thinking that the topic was finally over. Under Giotto's silent gaze, Spedo bowed calmly, "Excuse me, I. I have a letter to write to London. Or do you think it would be better if I sent a telegram?"
Giotto didn't point out that the two options were practically identical. In other words, Spedo hadn't given him another option at all. "I don't think we should involve Elio," he said calmly. "He doesn't like war."
"How is that possible?" Spedo thought he was joking. "A god of war doesn't like war?"
Giotto laughed. He didn't intend to say anything more about the profound chasm of understanding between him and Spedo. He simply shook his head and stood up. He was a bit shorter than Spedo—in fact, he was shorter than almost everyone else—but when Giotto Vongola stood up, no one failed to glance at him. Even if he simply lowered his head, casually sorted through the papers on his desk, and tucked his pen to his chest.
"Excuse me, dear Damon," Giotto told him openly under Spedo's suspicious gaze, "I have to go and arrange the 'punishment' of the people of Turin."
Spedo had to call out to him, as Giotto was about to go to the door. "A letter from London?"
"Well," Giotto shrugged, "if you can convince him..."
"He's an assassin who sleeps with a knife strapped to his wrist!"
"Not really." Giotto turned the doorknob.
Spedo was stunned for a moment, then immediately stared at Giotto in disbelief. Giotto, who was almost out the door, paused, as if remembering something—Spedo had thought he'd remembered something important—and leaned back briskly, turning his head to give Spedo a bright smile and a playful wink. "And two of them, Damon!"
Stunned and bewildered, Spedo was left alone in his office. He first wasted precious time wondering why Giotto had said those two words, and finally realized with irritation that Giotto might just be cunningly diverting his attention; after all, the most important thing now was to contact Elio.
Giotto had offered a wager. All Spedo had to do was accept it.
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The author has something to say: Simon, um, Simon, what is Simon's current situation like...
Is this considered a spoiler (picking petals) or not? Is this considered a spoiler (picking petals) or not?
Anyway, Simon will appear in the next chapter!
But if we talk about Simon in the modern timeline, Simon X is fine, and Spedo doesn't care anymore.jpg
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