Chapter 51: Sophia Charles

"You say your surname is Poleta, what is your given name?"

Inside the interrogation room of the Prohibition Bureau, a bright overhead light beat down directly on the man who claimed to be a Poleta.

Lewis sat across from him, smoking a cigarette, and asked.

"Vincent, Vincent Poleta. My father is Alberto."

The man looked straight at Lewis behind the glare, as if entirely unafraid of the light.

"Give me a cigarette as well."

"Vincent? Vincent Poleta, as far as I know, the Poleta family has no one by that name."

"How is that possible? Find anyone from the Poleta family right now, and they will definitely know who I am. Or you can go straight to my father, or my older brother Leonardo."

"Unfortunately, they are all dead."

Lewis feigned regret.

Suddenly, the man flew into a violent rage: "How can that be?! How could they possibly be dead? Impossible! You're lying to me, you're lying to me! How could my eldest brother and my father be dead? They are the Poletas!"

"Yet I have no reason to lie to you. Take a look at these."

Lewis handed him several newspapers.

Naturally, the newspapers contained news of Alberto's death and Ethan's ascent to power.

"So Ethan is running things now?" Vincent asked, his hands gripping the newspaper tightly.

"That's right." Lewis watched Vincent with keen interest from behind the light, like a hunter observing his prey.

"Then bring Ethan here."

"Are you sure you want me to bring him here?"

"What do you mean?" Vincent pulled the newspaper away and stared at Lewis once more.

"Vincent, listen to me. I've dealt with your younger brother. He is a creature of absolute power. He has firmly secured his position as the head of the Poleta family, and now you have returned—you are his second older brother, holding higher seniority and a legitimate right of inheritance. How do you think he will treat you?"

"You're trying to drive a wedge between us brothers, but it won't work. Let me tell you, I know what kind of person Ethan is. He loves art, he's a good man, he..."

"People change, Vincent, especially since the two of you haven't seen each other in many years." Lewis tossed a cigarette to Vincent and lit it for him.

"Have a smoke. When you finish this cigarette, give me your answer. If you still want me to call Ethan, I'll call him. But by then, I will no longer interfere in this matter."

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Ethan had a nightmare in which someone shot him in the back.

When he turned around, however, he found himself looking at a face strikingly similar to his own.

The dream left him deeply unsettled, but fortunately, today's weather was pleasant—clear, with even a touch of sunlight.

He planned to eat breakfast and then visit the factory to check on Walter's progress. If Walter could produce the grape blocks a step sooner, it would benefit both his commercial ventures and the "Name of the True God."

Just as he was halfway through his breakfast, a phone call came in.

"Young Master, it's Earl."

Earl from Winster University. But he had only attended class the day before yesterday; surely there was no need to rush things quite this much?

"Good morning, Dean Earl, is there something you need?"

"Good morning, Ethan. I hope I'm not disturbing you. It's like this—you painted a picture during class the day before yesterday, do you remember?"

"Of course, what about it?"

"The professors at the academy all love that painting, including the President. The President would like to meet you. Do you have time today to visit the campus?"

Earl had accepted favors and was now soft-spoken, treading carefully with every word.

"Certainly, no problem at all. It would be my honor. I'll come right after I finish breakfast."

Ethan hadn't expected that a casual sketch he made that day would have such a follow-up.

However, his original purpose in attending school was to elevate his status and social standing, and to network with prominent figures and bigwigs.

Now, that objective had essentially been achieved.

The President of Winster University—that was a figure of considerable weight in Winster.

As noted before, the law department at Winster University was exceptionally prestigious, and many of its graduates held key positions in the legal and political spheres of Winster and numerous neighboring cities.

The current president of Winster University had previously served as the dean of the Winster Law School, and almost all of those figures holding key positions were his former students.

As the president of Winster University itself, his standing in the educational community was also remarkably high.

For a man like this to want to see him...

After finishing breakfast, Ethan had Anya drive him toward the sea cliffs of Winster University.

When they arrived, Earl was indeed waiting at the bottom of the steps.

Upon seeing Ethan step out of the car, Earl hurried over and flattered him, "Ethan, I knew you were a genius. Sure enough, the moment you made a move, you caught the President's attention. You are truly extraordinary."

"You flatter me." Ethan didn't think his drawing was particularly impressive.

The two of them walked up the stone steps into the campus. Along the way, quite a few students—either doing morning exercise or rushing to class—cast glances in his direction, whispering among themselves from time to time.

The topic of discussion was inevitably: "Is that the person whose painting caught the President's attention?", accompanied by gossip regarding his surname and Mafia background.

It seemed he had already gained a modest reputation at Winster University.

Following Earl as they navigated the massive buildings, they finally stopped in front of a blue-stone structure that clearly possessed some age.

"Wait here a moment, Ethan, I'll go announce your arrival to the President. Oh, and your professor and the female student who discovered your painting have also arrived. Go say hello to them."

With that, Earl pointed to the side.

Inside the reception-like hall, a few people were already present.

It was the professor from the sketching class the other day, along with a female student whom Ethan vaguely remembered.

While Earl went to announce their arrival, Ethan walked over to greet the two of them.

"Professor Fall, hello."

The professor called Fall merely nodded. His attitude was somewhat strange; a trace of appreciation flickered in his eyes, but reluctance was far more prominent.

On the contrary, the female student took the initiative to step forward and introduce herself, "Hello, classmate Ethan. I am Sophia Charles. I really loved your painting."

"Thank you."

Ethan looked at the young woman.

She wore a vintage dress—pure white overall, dotted with purple along the hem, the pleats of which resembled flowers.

Indeed, she looked like a flower, one blooming in the warm morning sunlight.

Her beauty was different from Anya's; Anya's was cold and sharp, while hers felt like a breeze in the warm sun.

Ethan could sense that Professor Fall seemed to have accompanied this girl named Sophia.

To see him?

Wasn't that perhaps a bit too narcissistic?

Ethan then immediately thought of Sophia's surname.

Charles, Charles. Such a familiar feeling.

At that moment, Earl emerged to call him inside.