Chapter 31 Chapter 31 The world has changed, father...
Galahad walked into the office. He paid his usual attention to little Mitchell, who had been working overtime. It was obvious that the young man must have been so diligent that he accidentally fell asleep in the office, which was why he didn't hear his knock.
"Go back and rest early," Galahad said finally. "Gotham is not a city suitable for staying out late."
He turned to leave, but suddenly seemed to remember something and stopped.
"By the way," he said, pretending not to hear the clattering noises under Little Mitchell's desk, "watch out for assassins."
"Assassin?" Leopold responded with a rather confused look, as if he had no idea what Galahad was talking about (as if there wasn't an assassin hiding under his desk).
"That assassin who troubled us in Blüdhaven," Galahad said lightly. "I heard he's come to Gotham too."
Leopold put on a look of sudden realization at the perfect moment. The Templars smiled and nodded at each other. A door clicked, and the rhythmic tapping of boot heels on the tile faded away. Hearing the movement, Leopold breathed a sigh of relief, his once straight back slumping back into his chair.
"He's gone," Leopold said, stepping lightly on the desk and the office chair slid back. "This time it's for real."
Elio emerged wordlessly. He stared at Leopold until his friend looked away and rubbed his nose in guilt.
"You should get a few couches in your office," Elio said, tiptoeing and sitting on the edge of the table. "That way, if someone comes over unexpectedly, I'll have somewhere else to hide."
"Are you serious?"
"Of course not," Elio said. "Do you want to do it again?"
"...I do have something to tell you." Leopold gritted his teeth and changed the subject. Fortunately, Elio was genuinely interested in what he had to say. He didn't try to bring it back, but simply crossed his arms and stared into his eyes. But as Leopold continued to talk, Elio gradually became attentive.
"I'm close to collecting evidence against him," Leopold said, "but it will take me a while. I understand... whatever you want to do, I understand. I'll do anything for you, if you'll just leave him to me."
Elio looked down at him.
Leopold looked the assassin in the eye and said, "Don't kill him, please."
Elio could easily see a faint dark blue tint under the young Templar's eyes. The last time he saw Leopold so exhausted and forced to cheer up was the morning after they had spent the night playing games, when he had to give a speech on a group project.
When it was their group's turn, Leopold stood up from his seat and walked forward. Perhaps noticing Elio's gaze, he turned back and smiled broadly. It was a smile that made it seem as if nothing could faze him.
And now, that once open smile overlapped with the current weary expression. None of them could have imagined that it would turn out this way—that they, two ordinary college students, would be caught up in such a bizarre conspiracy, that the world would reveal its cruel veil to them; that one, after being hunted repeatedly, would rise up in resistance, walking down a dark path, while the other, whose faith had collapsed overnight, decided to personally destroy the foundations that had supported his growth—his family business, his father.
How they cope with this upheaval, only they know.
Elio placed his palm on Leopold's shoulder, "I promise."
The Templar's frown relaxed, and the suppressed fatigue surged back. He waved his hand carelessly, dismissing Elio's urging for rest, and picked up some documents from the table.
"And then there's the Gotham thing," he said. "I guess that's partly why you came to me—I've already looked into this company, and there's no legal loophole. Even if there were, the lawyers downstairs aren't paid white collar. So if you want to stop it, that's not going to work."
But he found a simple memo and tapped it gently on Elio's chest. The assassin took the paper and took a look. It was filled with names that looked familiar.
It seems to be a name that often appears on Gotham's local news channels.
A guess came to Elio's mind. He looked at the Templar, "This is..."
"Galahad has introduced me to quite a few 'friends' in Gotham lately," Leopold shrugged. "I suspect they're facilitating things for Abstergo. As to whether this is true, I'll leave it to you to investigate."
Elio gave him a thumbs-up. Leopold chuckled and slumped back in his office chair, but he watched the assassin carefully put away the memo.
"Fly, Eagle," he whispered.
The young assassin, whom he called Eagle, paused. Elio placed his hand on Leopold's shoulder again, wanting to say something, but in the end, he patted his shoulder firmly.
"Take care, Leo."
The Templar nodded. He sat there, turning his chair to follow the Assassin's movements. Elio opened the window, letting in the night breeze, a slight chill that stirred the constant temperature inside. Leopold didn't smell it, but he could sense the change it brought.
It smells…like a new, free world.
Elio, crouching at the window, turned and nodded, then pulled his hood up. For some reason, Leopold instinctively stood up, wanting to pull him back from the brink of danger; but when he reached out his hand, the assassin had already opened his arms, calmly embracing the high wind.
The hem of her dress brushed against his fingers.
Leopold chased to the window and glanced down, his heart already beating rapidly. But the assassin had already disappeared into the night.
The young Templar stood there, speechless. A moment passed, but his heartbeat seemed to still pound against his chest, as if... he, too, longed for a world he had never seen. After a moment, he quietly withdrew his hand.
"The world has changed, Father," Leopold chuckled. "I feel it in the wind."
As for Elio, who had already jumped, he certainly had no idea what was happening behind him. The night was still long, and he sent the name on the memo to the group chat set up by the bats. Oracle (he thought the name was cool, but he didn't see her at the clock tower base that day) was the first to reply, which was rare.
“Great,” she said. “That will help me narrow my search.”
"May need confirmation," Elio typed. "Please."
The troublemaker sent a jumping emoji, "Leave it to us!"
The orphan followed her closely, sending a smiling emoji in reply. Elio smiled at the screen and put his phone away. The assassin, traversing the streets and alleys, looked up and saw a dark sedan parked in front.
The engine was still on. Someone was waiting for him.
The assassin glanced around. After confirming that no one was nearby, Elio put his hands in his pockets, walked forward calmly, and got into the back seat.
Alvin didn't answer his question about "Galahad." Instead, after a few hours of silence, he sent him the address and license plate number. "It's our spy among the Templars. He wants to see you," he said.
Elio had no idea they had another accomplice among the Templars. Cautiously—and slightly comically—he climbed into the car, lifting a corner of the hood to see who was behind the wheel. At first glance, he didn't see the accomplice's face. He first smelled the lingering scent of cigarette smoke, mixed with a faint hint of rose perfume, and then a pair of blue eyes looking up in the rearview mirror.
"You've kept me waiting, Assassin."
Elio's eyes widened. They weren't familiar eyes, but the voice was. Even the drawled tone was familiar, as if he'd heard it before—and damn, of course he'd heard it before, it was Galahad!
The Templar studied his expression, "I thought Alvin had already told you who I was."
Elio blurted out, "He only told me—"
Wait. "It's our spies among the Templars."
Elio easily recalled the text message he had just read. The assassin, who had nearly jumped ahead, had a change of expression. Finally, he turned his head, smacked his thigh in anger, and sat back down silently.
"Do you know where I was just now?" he asked seemingly out of the blue.
The Templar, noticing Elio's expression in the rearview mirror, laughed. "I know."
If he had known, he wouldn't have hidden. Elio's expression remained blank, his mind musing. He should have simply opened the door and warmly welcomed Galahad to guide him, so they could overthrow Abstergo together.
"I don't know what you're thinking," Galahad said, pulling out a cigarette case from his breast pocket. "But let me say something first. My identity is supposed to be a secret. At the very least, you can't let the other Templars know about it. I don't care what your relationship is with the young master of the Mitchell family, you can't tell him this."
"We're just friends," Elio clarified.
Galahad glanced up at him in the rearview mirror. The Templar's expression was indescribable, as if he wanted to say something, but swallowed it back.
"I didn't ask."
Galahad said this as he turned his head and handed Elio his cigarette case to the back seat. Elio took a cigarette and put it in his mouth. This action made Galahad look at him with a much closer look, and he even lit it for him.
"To make a long story short," the Templar mumbled, between his teeth, "you're operating in secret, trying to drive Abstergo out of Gotham, correct?"
"Yes. What's wrong?"
"Give me some time," Galahad said. "Don't make this happen too quickly. I need some cover."
"What cover?"
In the rising smoke, Galahad's eyes looked like clouds and mist.
"Cover me while I find the Artifact of Eden next to Mitchell," he said.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
