A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 90 The Godfather (Part )

The underground drainage system of Ashwell was built in 400 AD, making it much older than the city itself.

At that time, Ashwell was just a lakeside town attached to the college, with a population of a few hundred. The main business of the townspeople was fishing for the college or serving Her Royal Highness the Princess who lived on the top of the mountain.

When the brave Merlin moved Mount Ashwell to the southern continent with his supreme power, the town prospered rapidly due to the influx of people who came to learn the arcane arts. However, a problem also arose.

Once it rains, Mirror Lake overflows and floods occur.

Although Ashwell is a mountain, the Mirror Lake on the top of the mountain and the terrain around the lake are flat. If you look from a high place, the top of this crater looks like a basin sunken into the mountain.

Originally, Ashwell was located in the cold and rainy northern continent, and was not troubled by flooding. However, after moving to the southern continent with a long rainy season, heavy rain fell on this small town all year round.

It was fine when the population was small, as there were always a few high places near the lake, such as the Cloud Avenue a thousand years later, or the highland airport where the Eye of Grindelwald was located. However, as the population grew and there was not enough space to live, how to solve the flooding problem of Mirror Lake caused by rainfall became a difficult problem facing the academy.

Thus, led by Merlin, the predecessor of the college's "Modern Arcane Department" - the "Civil Engineering Department" was born.

Thirty teachers and students proficient in earth-based arcane arts spent a year stationed in the Eswell Mountains. Without affecting the stability of the mountain structure, they dug a 300-kilometer-long underground drainage pipeline.

At this point, all rainwater can be drained underground into the forest rivers around the foot of the mountain, solving the flood problem at one stroke. Even the Broom Lane in the Mystical World Market was built using underground pipes.

This city sewer, built by arcane mages, was the first project in Tamil Nadu to apply arcane magic as a form of efficient productivity, and is considered by historians to be the beginning of the Arcane Industrial Revolution.

Today, a thousand years later, with the continuous expansion of the city, the sewers have become more complicated, especially with the rapid development of Ashwell in the past hundred years, which has made the sewers almost like a maze.

If they didn't read through the mountain of complex engineering drawings, even the Alexander family, who were responsible for the maintenance, would probably not be able to figure out how many branches there were in the sewer.

In the darkness, the sound of dripping water surrounded him, the air was filled with the stench of rotting mud, and dots of blue fluorescence barely illuminated the ancient walls. The man, talking to himself, passed through one fork after another and walked towards the clogged end of the sewer.

"Don't worry, there won't be a fight."

"Okay, shut up. I know what to do later."

"I'm warning you for the last time. No, you mustn't call me Nigo again—"

"I said, no matter how much I look like him, I will not wear that damn Real Madrid jersey, play the role of some bullshit Bellingham, and lead my men to play the game. I am the leader of the gang, understand? That will make me lose face - fuck your mother, you are Nico, your whole family is Nico"

"What? All the family members are dead? I'll be relieved if they're all dead. Great! Good news! Report again, report again, and investigate again. Finally, there's good news. They're all dead."

The crazy man turned left and right in the sewer, walked nearly half a kilometer, and finally came to the end of the pipe.

The feeling of mud came from under the soles of leather shoes. If you turn on a light, you can see that the five-meter-high water outlet in front is blocked by garbage and mud. I don’t know how many years it has been blocked for the silt in this waterway to become so rotten.

The man formed seals with his hands, shouted "Earth Escape", and then slammed his left palm on the mud.

Soon, something strange happened.

A dull sound of gas explosion was heard, and the man disappeared from the spot. Instead, the mud blocking the water outlet bulged into a rapidly extending line and escaped into the depths.

Half a minute later.

Somewhere in the Eswell Mountains, in a vast space that had not been incorporated into the sewers due to a mistake made by the academy's arcanists a thousand years ago—

Bang, the soil exploded, and a man in a spotless white suit walked out with a sullen face.

Several vigilant eyes instantly fell on him, followed by the sound of swords being unsheathed, but when the guards saw who was coming, they put their weapons away again.

Unlike the pitch-black sewers, the magic circle-driven lighting provided ample light. This was actually an arcane workshop filled with countless glass culture tanks. Dozens of arcanists were busy in front of the tanks. Among them was For, a member of the Golden Wind who had applied for the position of assistant teacher at the academy.

The workshop was filled with a deep blue fluorescent light that was much thicker than the air in the sewer. The place where the man escaped from the ground was an experimental field planted with blue flowers. The fluorescent light was the pollen spread by these flowers, which was then discharged to the outside by the ventilation system.

He stepped on the flowers without any pity, and his leather shoes broke the branches. These flowers were incredibly fragile. They withered instantly at the slightest external force, losing their color and turning into ash-like fragments.

"Hey?!"

The one cultivating the flower was an old arcanist from the Yangen Restoration Organization. Seeing his painstakingly cultivated test specimen being trampled upon like this, he shouted in anger, "You could have come in through the main gate, but it always happens like this... Do you know how difficult it is to cultivate a Star Flower—"

"Star Flower?"

The man sneered, "It's been two years. I've spent three hundred thousand gold pounds on this experimental field of yours, and the garbage you've cultivated, besides looking like a Star Flower, can it even have one-tenth of the effect of the Academy's Star Flower?"

The old man, a former court arcanist of the Yangen Palace, was arrogant and proud. His face flushed red at being bluntly accused by a younger generation. "The professor said it's normal for cultivation to fail. I tried using the Full Moon Sect's moonlight instead of the stars. No one has tried this route before, so I..."

"Okay, I don't understand your arcanist stuff. Where's the prince? Didn't he say he'd have a meeting tonight?"

".With the professor."

The man walked straight towards the center of the workshop.

The surrounding incubators gurgled with boiling liquid, the diluted Starlight Potion soaking various human limbs in it. Arms, backs, hearts, thighs...
An observation window was opened in each limb, and complex artificial circuits were engraved inside, with a beautiful crystal texture.

Fluorescent green artificial synapses connect the limbs and the magic array on the wall of the culture tank like cables, transmitting the magic formula to the terminal outside.

An arcanist stood before a culture tank, conducting an experiment. He pulled a lever, and the arm muscles within the culture tank spasmed under the stimulation of mana, and the circuits lit up with a dazzling gemstone-like light.

A cold, bloody vapor suddenly erupted from the observation area at the end of the magic circle. The arcanist walked over and lifted the black cloth covering the observation area. The inside was already covered with frost. After measuring the temperature with a thermometer, he picked up a pen and wrote it down on the memo:

[Thirteenth test of a second-order arcane cold eruption. The instantaneous temperature reached -141 degrees Celsius, meeting the passing standard for casting. The subject sustained minor injuries, but no arcane energy overflow was observed.]

From time to time, he could hear greetings like "Hello, Boss," and the man nodded repeatedly. Some ignored him, mostly the old arcanists from the Yangen Nomadic Government, who only dared to cast contemptuous glances at his back after he left.

In the center of the workshop stands the largest culture tank. Dense pipes and artificial circuits connect the inside and outside of the culture tank, like a spider web surrounding a weaving spider.

It was actually a human brain.

"Professor, good evening."

The man stopped in front of the culture tank, put one hand on his chest and saluted like a gentleman.

Seeing the man approaching, a group of black ants crawled out from the bottom of the culture tank, like a black tide, which was creepy.

As the ants moved, a line of words formed by ants appeared on the ground -

Good evening, Capone. How are things going?

The man shook his head and said regretfully, "High-purity gemstones are too difficult to purchase. Given the current rate of wear and tear on the artificial circuit, I'm afraid the experiment will have to be suspended within a month."

The ants started moving again, and the new words formed:
[It will take at least three months of experimental time to stably implant the artificial circuit.]

"Three months?"

The man said meaninglessly: "Then we can only pray to the great sun god to bless us."

"tsk"

A dissatisfied smacking sound came from the side.

Behind the culture tanks, a long ivory table stood out from the workshop's atmosphere, looking like something from a palace, magnificent and ornate. Seven people from the Western Continent sat at the table.

The one who made the smacking sound was a teenager who was barely in his teens. The pampered life he had lived since birth had left deep marks on him. Although he was only 1.7 meters tall, he weighed nearly 250 kilograms, and was squeezed on the king's high-back chair like a trembling piece of fat.

"You, didn't you promise to equip my army with artificial circuits before the end of the year? And you boasted about fully automatic firearms that would definitely win the battle—"

The man didn't even look at him.

Instead, he continued to speak to the Professor's brain, "As for the Star Flower, we recently found a new collaborator at the academy. With any luck, we should be able to have a stable supply soon."

【who is it? 】

"A new employee." The man paused. "Staff member."

"Hey!" The obese boy slammed the table and screamed, "Ike Capone! Are you even listening to me? Where are the gems? Where are the gems for research?!"

The old man nearby hurried to smooth things over.

"Your Highness, as far as I know, with the Northern Continent now under blockade, high-purity gemstones are indeed difficult to obtain through the black market. The supply is too scarce."

If there were someone here who often read the Ashville newspaper, they would probably recognize the identity of this old man - he was Quasimodo Whiteman, a famous banker in Ashville.

Also sitting at the long table were Sean, the second largest shareholder of the Ashville Railway Station, Benitez, the deputy chief of law enforcement, Boy, the ace adventurer of the Ashville branch of the Adventurers' Association, Frederick, the director of the Agricultural Trade Department, and Bush Sr., the owner of the Mirror Lake Restaurant.

These veterans who are well-known in all walks of life in Ashwell have another unknown identity - they are cabinet members of the Yangen wandering government.

The adventurer Boy was once a knight of the Royal Order of Hieronymus, the head of the agricultural trade department, Frederick, was once the hereditary viscount of Hieronymus, and Benítez, the second-in-command of the law enforcement officers, was once the foreign minister of Hieronymus.
The most important person is the banker Quasimodo Whiteman. He was the prime minister of the government of the Fourth Prince during the civil war in Yengenn. After the Fourth Prince was killed by the Second Prince, he fled all the way to Ashwell.

After the Prime Minister had comforted the young man, he turned to look at the man and said seriously, "Mr. Capone, if your channels can't collect the jewels, then we will have to do it ourselves."

"Do it yourself?"

The man laughed dumbly. "Why are you guys going to fight? Are you guys in your seventies and eighties planning to carry your shovels back to the West Continent to work in the mines?"

".You know what we'll do."

Quasimodo said calmly, "High-quality jewelry is not difficult to find in the mansions of Eastwell."

What he called "high-quality jewelry" were the high-end items stolen by the robbers in the robbery on March 3.

Just as diamonds are classified according to their purity into flawless, internally flawless, very or very slightly included, very slightly included, etc., all gemstones in nature have clarity classifications.

Gems are products of the earth. During their formation, they are affected by the environment and will inevitably develop cracks, flaws, fissures and other damage. Completely pure gems are extremely rare and can be sold at prices several times or even dozens of times that of ordinary gems.

Not only can it be polished into jewelry, but high-purity gemstones, lacking cracks, offer exceptional stability in storing mana, making them highly sought after in the arcane world. They are often used as the core hub of high-level arcane arrays, in workshop construction, and in various experiments requiring demanding energy release.

To create an artificial circuit, a complete, flawless gemstone is required as the implant. The larger the gemstone, the more complex the circuit can be, and the higher-level arcane magic that can be engraved into it.

"Mansion. Ha."

The man smiled and said, "What? Are you all gods of wealth descended from the earth to provide disaster relief to us peasants from the Western Continent? You're just laying out jewelry on the street, offering it for free?"

The young man at the end of the long table clenched his fist and said proudly:

"Just go ahead and rob them. We have man-made circuits and brave people who are not afraid of death. We can grab as many as we can!"

"Oh." The man laughed and clapped. "People who are not afraid of death. That's great. Since they are not afraid of death, I believe they will be able to walk away with their heads held high when they are executed."

Prime Minister Quasimodo was stunned.

"Them? Execution? Who?"

The man sneered and said, "Of course they are the two robbers wanted by the City Council with a large reward."

"What?" The boy's excitement froze on his face, and then he became furious in vain.

"You handed my hero over to the Council?!"

Quasimodo's face turned grim. He had never expected this damned young gangster to dare to kill without authorization. The elders all stared at him intently. This was betraying a compatriot—the thing that exile organizations in a foreign land feared most!

"..Destiny has been bought, they can't catch Rupert and Shepard. It's obviously unnecessary, why are you doing this?"

Quasimodo suppressed his anger and repeated:

"Why do this?!"

The man walked slowly to the end of the long table, put his hands on the table, and scanned their faces.

"If we hadn't killed those forty-plus people, the academy wouldn't have investigated. Now that the academy has investigated, do you expect a lunatic who's plunged into the abyss to handle this? If I hide any longer, it won't just be those two robbers who die, but also over two thousand members of Golden Wind. Why would I do this?"

"A shabby teaching school, does it scare you so much—"

Quasimodo raised his voice: "We, the people of Yangen, dared to fight against the Philippine Empire! We sent one man and scared off their entire legion! You..."

"You're so fucking stupid."

The man looked at him with pity. "It was your arrogance that ruined the kingdom of Yeongun. If I were the fourth prince, I would have kicked you out like a fool and handed the throne to my second brother who was in charge of the army, instead of believing in nonsense like the Knights could defend the royal city."

It was a six-piece equipment Shen's A followed by Tiamat's second Q, which accurately and elegantly broke the old man's defense.

"You--" Quasimodo pointed at him with a trembling hand, his words barely comprehension.

"Ike Capone!!!"

It was the harshest, most undisciplined scream of a brat. The boy, who had been ignored, suddenly stood up, the fat on his chin almost shaking out of oil in his anger. He jumped up and yelled:
"Who the hell is it! Allowing you to take my warriors without my permission—"

His words were passionate and indignant, like a true king denouncing disloyalty, but before he could finish his words, a sound like a sigh was heard.

"Oh, it's so noisy"

The man pressed his palms against the table.

Among the old men, Boyi, who had served as a knight of the kingdom's guard, participated in wars, and was also a transcendent, was the first to react.

But it was too late.

Before everyone realized what the man was trying to do, he disappeared from their sight, and the next moment, the boy's roar stopped abruptly.

The grandson of the last king of Hiengen, the legitimacy of the nomadic government and the hope for national restoration - the poor child was being pinched by the mouth by a madman, which was the most common method of violence used by the underworld. His head slammed on the table with a bang, like grabbing a chicken, and blood immediately splattered from his nose.

"Nigga—you dare?!!"

Boy instantly swarmed in front of the man. As a former member of the Hierogen Knights, even at nearly a hundred years old, his reflexes were incredibly quick. The aura honed by the blood and fire of war made his voice thunderous. This transcendent being, whose fate was unknown, raised his fist and slammed it into the man's face.

The man didn't try to avoid her, but just looked at him sarcastically.

The fist as big as a sandbag was just a hair's breadth away from hitting the man's face, but he stopped abruptly and dared not move again.

the reason is simple--

A kunai that appeared out of nowhere was pressed against the boy's neck. The kunai was obviously not an ordinary weapon. The blade was so sharp that blood could not stop flowing down with just a slight touch, staining the bloodstain on the table into a larger pool.

Without the man making any movement, an explosion accompanied by a bright light echoed, sending Boy flying. The old man's body smashed a culture tank, and the arcane array exploded with a crackling sound. It took him a while to get up from the situation. He wasn't seriously injured, but his clothes were tattered.

It was only then that the others realized what had happened, and they began to barrage accusations and scolding.

They panicked and ordered the man to let the boy go. The surrounding arcanists were also attracted by the noise and pointed their wands at him one after another. However, the arcanists belonging to the Golden Wind were not to be trifled with. They were even more ruthless, pulling out not only wands but also strangely shaped pistols.

The two groups confronted each other with swords drawn.

The man at the center of the storm was completely unaware. He loosened his hand holding the kunai and slapped the boy's face again and again.

"Hey, didn't your dead parents teach you that children shouldn't interrupt when adults are talking?"

The hand covering her mouth loosened, and she was looking forward to the boy's reply.

"You, you, you, you can't kill me, you can't kill me." The young man stopped calling himself 'this king', and his pig-like body softened. Even though the man no longer controlled him, he was paralyzed by the cold light of the kunai. "My grandfather was the last king of Yangen, and my father was the fourth prince. You can't kill me. Killing me will destroy the country. How can we restore it without me? I won't urge you anymore. I don't want the gem anymore, and I don't want to be a warrior."

"It seems you still haven't learned to be quiet."

The man sighed, and then, amid countless wands and scolding, he lifted the boy's neck, took a step forward, grabbed his head and smashed it into the culture tank next to him.

Glass and culture medium mixed with starlight were scattered all over the floor. His head was pressed down and immersed in the water. Bubbles gurgled up. The boy struggled, but the hand did not let go.

The old men were instantly frightened out of their wits. Even though their wands were pointed at them, none of the arcanists from the Wandering Government dared to cast spells because the arcanists from the Golden Wind were also pointing their guns and wands at their heads.

"You know, this is how we negotiate debts on the road," the man said kindly, squatting on the ground. "Soaking someone in water makes the negotiation easier. Usually, we can get the money back before they die. People are very resistant to being soaked."

"Mr. Capone—"

Quasimodo's voice softened, almost pleading: "Your Highness is just a child. We were wrong just now. There is no need for you to be so picky about him."

"You're also a member of Yeongun—" someone nearby was anxiously saying something flattering. "Your parents sacrificed their lives for the kingdom! It's because we trust their loyalty that we're willing to take the risk of collaborating with you. You must carry on their legacy."

"Uh-huh-huh."

The man made a sound like he was teasing a dog. He frowned and picked up the boy who had wet his pants. Before he could catch his breath, he dipped him back in.

"Honestly, I don't even remember what those two idiots looked like. Do you know how it feels for a five-year-old child to dig for food among the dead on the battlefield? If you tell me that's my motherland, there's really nothing worth remembering."

He watched the dwindling bubbles in the water, grinning as he calculated when to lift the boy up again. He muttered to himself, "Did I beg you to cooperate? You're the ones who shamelessly came up to me, spouting nonsense like 'extending roots, extending roots,' and expecting me to become some kind of Duke of Capone. Ha."

"A fifteen-year-old mentally retarded child, a prime minister of a fallen government, a knight who watched his king being assassinated without daring to move, a foreign minister who relied on a woman to rise to power, and a petty noble who ran faster than anyone else. A bunch of stray dogs fled to a foreign land, thinking they were all there, calling themselves a wandering government and dreaming of restoring the nation. But for so many years, they've accomplished nothing. They even had to ask a gangster to pay for some gems. Do any of the gentlemen in Eastville take you seriously?"

They fell into awkward silence.

Quasimodo gritted his teeth and said, "If you dare to kill him, you will never leave here."

"Suck, suck, suck!" Ike pressed the boy's head deeper. "Rather than letting this idiot kill more than 2,000 people in my gang and make an example of them, it would be better to die here. Do you want to try and see if you can keep me here?"

Quasimodo saw that the hard method didn't work, so he had to try the soft method:
"Our conflict hasn't reached that point yet, Capone. It's not necessary. You can build such a big gang, you must understand that after the restoration of Yangon, you can give you something that this city can't give you."

"Oh, you still remember that I'm a gangster—"

The man said fiercely, "Do you think Golden Wind is an army? Or a country?! We're just a bunch of thugs who lend money at high interest rates, run gambling dens, and engage in smuggling. We're exhausted just dealing with law enforcement officers. A college? Are they even someone we can offend? The school administration can just move a finger and we're dead. Why are you dragging little people like us around on this city's red line? Huh?"

".So what do you want to do?"

Quasimodo had no choice but to watch him and leave it to fate.

"Cooperation requires a cooperative attitude. I will help you restore your country, and you will give me the sacred weapon of the Brave Jiangnan. I don't care how you act after returning to the Western Continent, but in Eswell, you must listen to me and don't dictate my decisions, okay?"

He asked, tilting his head.

Everyone in the cabinet looked at each other, and seeing that the young man was about to die, they had no choice but to lower their heads one after another.

The old man's expression changed again and again, but he finally compromised: "After the artificial circuit experiment is successful, I will give it to you."

"Very good, then it seems that I have officially joined this exiled government."

The man pulled the dying boy out of the incubator, watched him convulsively vomit water, and then sat on the ground, too terrified to move and breathing softly, and smiled with satisfaction.

"Dear, did it hurt you?"

"no no."

"I don't really like you calling me by my first name. For the sake of smooth future cooperation, Your Highness, it's important to be polite, isn't it?"

He looked at the boy deeply.

Finally, the boy lowered his head in submission.

"Yes, Your Excellency the Godfather."

(End of this chapter)