Chapter 19 Chapter 19 I will never earn this much in my life...
Alvin prepared a brand new storage room for him, but emphasized that not everything in it was his gift. For example, the motorcycle was prepared for him by another of Alvin's students ("You have other students?" "Yes, you weren't the first one to come. Are you surprised?" "Am I your favorite student?" "Don't ask me embarrassing questions like this." "...").
Elio did find a postcard tied to the handlebars with a black ribbon. "To Elio, hope you like it," was written in elegant handwriting, unsigned. According to Alvin, his identity remained a secret for now. Elio, bewildered, put away the postcard and the ribbon, which seemed to still hold a scent.
He really likes this motorcycle. After all, it is super cool.
There is also a box of gold coins.
A whole box of Continental Hotel gold coins.
When Alvin opened it, Elio was nearly blinded. The box of gold coins had come from Alvin's brother, Allot, also a renowned Master Assassin, currently on vacation in Australia ("He also asked if you wanted a kangaroo's ball, and I took the liberty of declining it for you." "Kangaroo's 'ball'?" "Yes. A souvenir." "..." "Do you want one?" "No, thank you.").
"Take some with you," Alvin knocked on the safe containing the gold coins. "Stay at the Continental Hotel for the time being to avoid the limelight."
There was a reason Alvin was anxious to take Elio from Nightwing. The Templars had already issued a wanted notice, and while Nightwing wouldn't turn them away for that reason—on the contrary, he insisted on keeping Elio to recover, sharply pointing out that Alvin's recovery was in jeopardy—the Assassins had other options available, so there was no need to burden the busy Blüdhaven vigilantes.
Neither Hydra nor the Templars would rashly enter the Continental Hotel to cause trouble. Even if they knew that the assassin who destroyed their experimental base was comfortably staying at the Continental Hotel, they would still be wary of the location.
The High Table, the guardian of the rules of the killer world, has established one of the iron rules: no "business" is allowed in mainland hotels.
"Unless they do it first," Alvin took off his windbreaker and hung it in the cloakroom, "but you'd better pray that doesn't happen."
"To be honest, I'm a little unsure if I should pray like that."
Elio drew aside the curtains and peeked out. Night had fallen over Bludhaven, and the lights of thousands of houses were twinkling.
"Whatever," Alvin said. "You're almost graduated anyway."
Elio turned around immediately, "What do you mean?"
"It means you are free to decide what to do and how to achieve your goals." Alvin shrugged. "Then why are you looking at me? Don't tell me you've fallen in love with me."
Elio's initial surge of separation anxiety was washed away. He looked at Alvin speechlessly, who smiled at him and waved him over.
"Okay, don't look like that," Alvin squeezed his shoulder, "I'm not abandoning you. Come on, I'll take you to make some new clothes."
Elio followed Alvin with mixed feelings. The assassin, his trench coat off, walked in front of him, one hand in his pocket, the other hanging at his side, swaying gently. Unlike Elio's mood, he looked relaxed and cheerful.
Bar, armory, and tailoring room.
Because Hydra had blown up his safe house, Alvin had bought a lot of goods. As if "by the way," he also had Elio pick out some handy weapons and made him two Kevlar suits.
“It gets you into any situation,” Alvin said, “and more importantly, it gets you out.”
He winked at Elio, who wanted to say something but, as the tailor was taking his measurements, nodded.
"Surely this must be your new pupil, Mr. Tristan?" said the tailor.
Alvin didn't deny it, "Everyone knows?"
"That's a whole island," the tailor said, putting away the measuring tape. "Many of our employees here enjoyed the fireworks that day."
"The news said it was just a gas explosion," Alvin said.
"Of course, it was just a gas explosion." The tailor nodded. "Express service, delivered to the room?"
"Yes, thank you."
Elio's eyes flickered between the two of them as he walked over to Alvin, adjusting the Hidden Blade on his wrist. He wasn't quite used to this gift from Alvin yet. The assassin stood up from the sofa, greeted the tailor, and walked away, his arm around Elio's shoulder.
"Have fun," the tailor said from behind them, "Mr. Tristan, Mr. Smith."
Distracted glances darted across their path. Elio noticed this, and with a hawk's eye, he spotted numerous red hostile targets intermingled among the gray figures. As he looked over, a muscular black man in sportswear had his head appropriately lowered, seemingly absorbed in reading a notebook. A gray-haired man in a suit on the sofa nonchalantly shook his newspaper. Only the black-haired woman in a red dress smiled at him.
Elio's shoulders tensed at her smile, but the hand on his shoulder squeezed him reassuringly before he could.
"Don't be nervous," Alvin whispered, "They're just watching you."
"Observe me?"
"You don't really think they believe that 'gas explosion' thing," Alvin said, his eyes fixed on her. "You're famous now, more famous than you think. The Templars have a bounty on your head, and there are plenty of people who want their reward."
"How much?" Elio asked.
Alvin glanced at him and said, "Five million."
“What a waste,” Elio said. “I’ll never make that much money in my lifetime.”
Alvin couldn't help but let out a whispered laugh. Elio had no idea how much the skills Alvin had taught him were worth, if they could be measured in money; if they were used in the wrong way, a safe filled with five million would be nothing more than a tiny, insignificant corner of a mountain of gold.
But no assassin would do that. Killing for profit is absolutely forbidden.
According to their creed, they never kill innocent people.
But then again, if their target happens to be somewhere on the wanted list—and this is often the case, considering that those who need assassination are usually bad guys with many enemies—then there is nothing wrong with taking the righteous reward after killing the target.
This is also one of the reasons why Alvin's brother, Allot, could give away a box of gold coins at will.
Elio still knows nothing about the value of these gifts, just like he knows nothing about the hidden secrets, secret organizations and rules of this world...all of these.
They walked into the elevator and the door slowly closed, blocking out the prying eyes of the outside world.
"Not much at all, new guy." Alvin let go of him and leaned against the elevator armrest with his arms folded. "That's not even close to enough to pay them at the Continental Hotel. Do you know how much a night here costs?"
"I see you gave two gold coins," Elio said. "One to each of us?"
The elevator doors opened and they walked into a carpeted hallway.
"One per person." Alvin nodded. "One is worth one million."
“…One million won?” Elio asked hopefully, following him into the room. “Or one million Thai baht?”
Alvin gave him a loving look, "One million dollars."
Elio was deeply shocked. It was as if all his difficulties were suddenly hit by a heavy safe. The safe suddenly popped open, and the gold coins and banknotes jumped out eagerly, becoming Elio's biggest debt.
"Stop staring blankly," Alvin said. "Tell me what you're going to do next."
Elio sat on the bed and looked at Alvin with dull eyes. Alvin laughed again and ruffled his hair.
"Although I suggest you stay at the Continental Hotel for the time being," Alvin turned around and took out his windbreaker hanging in the cloakroom, "I know you won't be idle. Do you have your next goal?"
"Yes." Elio perked up immediately at the mention of this. "Derek von Neumann, director of Abstergo Hospital in Blüdhaven. He was also involved in that project, but I'm not sure if the source of this information is reliable."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because...that's what I saw."
Alvin turned around and looked at Elio.
"You saw it?" he confirmed.
"When I killed Captain Gunnar, I saw some strange images. They looked like his memories..." Elio said, noticing that Alvin's expression became strange, and his voice became weaker and weaker. "...This is one of the talents of the Isu bloodline, right? I don't really have a mental illness, right?"
Alvin looked at him. His eyes suddenly lit up with excitement. He strode forward and, without a word, grasped Elio's face, examining it closely.
"I should have thought of it earlier!" Alvin said excitedly, "You are very likely a descendant of Arno Dorian!"
"…Who is Arno Dorian?"
"What a beautiful face." Alvin let go of him. "Although I think the scar on your nose may never heal. But don't worry, it doesn't detract from your overall image at all, and it even adds to your charm."
Elio rubbed his face in confusion, "So..."
"Arno Victor Dorian," Alvin searched in his pocket, "Master Assassin during the French Revolution, wielder of the Sword of Eden, the Eagle of Suger, the 'Lantern of Saint-Denis,' and..." He paused, not finishing his words.
"And what?"
The answer he got was the handle that Alvin handed to him.
"You'll know after the fight," Alvin winked at him mysteriously, "Don't think this is a game. This is also part of the new recruit training."
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Oreo finally debuted (sweat wipe) and this article incorporates a lot of worldviews, waiting to be introduced...
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