Chapter 56: Time

One-thirty in the afternoon.

Compared to the passionate and surging atmosphere at the sea cliffs of Winster University, the city of Winster itself remained largely untouched by it all. People continued to live their day-to-day lives as usual.

Nothing had changed because of Poupore's arrival.

Except for...

Palen.

Palen had been drinking ever since he woke up from his morning nightmare, and he had already consumed a great deal of alcohol.

Even with his legendary capacity for liquor, his vision was swimming with intermittent bouts of dizziness, yet he could not stop himself from continuing.

Because his hands still refused to stop trembling.

He reached for the wine bottle once again.

A hand suddenly snatched it away.

"Stop drinking, Palen. There's nothing to be afraid of. He knows nothing, and the advantage is entirely ours."

The speaker was a bearded man.

His name was Gary, Bearded Gary.

He had once been Joanne's highest-ranking subordinate, as well as the most loyal one.

Even later, when Fred arrived, he could not displace Gary's position; Gary had always been Joanne's trusted confidant.

It was just that the events of that night had happened with such sudden and overwhelming speed, and Fred, acting as the second-in-command, had ordered him to hold his territory firmly, leaving Gary with no opportunity to rescue their boss.

Later, after Fred died and Ethan took over the Cabral family's territory, he did not carry out a purge of the old guard.

Gary's territory remained unchanged, and he had made no aggressive moves.

At most, he would occasionally initiate private contact with Palen.

Using a secret code that only the core members of the Cabral family could understand.

For a very long time, Palen completely ignored Gary.

He did not want to die.

He was terrified of Ethan.

Until...

Until that accident.

Lewis.

Palen finally re-established contact with Gary.

Following that, Gary contacted all the trustworthy old members of the Cabral family.

In the shadows, the former Cabral family was resurrected once again.

Gary appeared highly agitated, constantly chain-smoking, leaving the entire room shrouded in thick clouds of smoke.

"We have those people helping us, and he isn't even at home. This is the opportunity the heavens have given us, Palen. Don't be afraid. When the time comes, I will bring his head and lay it right before you."

With that, Gary lit another cigarette and glanced down at his pocket watch.

The time was fast approaching two o'clock.

All preparations had been completed.

They were merely waiting for the moment the bullet left the barrel.

Two o'clock.

Stamping out the last cigarette, Gary produced a custom-ordered Margaux 717, a proud masterpiece from the Margaux Company, whose firepower was second only to a hand cannon.

He gently wiped the surface of the firearm, then pulled the bolt back with forceful intent.

The only regret was failing to acquire one of those weapons known as Winster Typewriters.

Otherwise, today would go even smoother.

It did not matter. After today, they would have everything.

"Palen, if you're scared, go hide somewhere nobody knows. Once it's all over, I'll find you."

Palen did not speak; he merely poured himself another glass.

——————

Two-thirty in the afternoon.

The gloom in the sky had grown dense, and the impending snow could no longer be concealed—it was only a matter of when it would begin to fall.

Yet this hint of snow could do nothing to dampen the surging enthusiasm within Winster University.

By this hour, Poupore had concluded his academic exchange and entered the banquet phase.

Many of Winster's elite finally found an opportunity to converse with him.

Poupore was far from standoffish; he conversed pleasantly with everyone, even displaying a sharp wit and humor that frequently drew hearty laughter from those around him.

Ethan watched the master painter from a distance.

He was a man in his forties, sporting an exaggerated pair of waxed handlebar mustaches. While he could not be considered conventionally handsome, his aura was undeniably unique.

Possessing a certain... well...

Ethan pondered for a long time before hitting upon the right word: a sense of avant-garde.

Indeed, Poupore could be considered an avant-garde figure in the art world. His painting style stood in a league of its own, differing radically from any previous school of thought.

At the dawn of his career, his style had been heavily criticized by art critics who deemed it an abomination against art.

Because his technique was deeply eccentric and often unexpected, while the themes of his works soared unrestrained with a fantastical quality.

Consequently, his style later came to be known as the Fantastical School.

Ethan had spent recent days studying Poupore's artistic approach, and he already had several contingency plans prepared in his mind.

It would all depend on what kind of prompt the other party gave him shortly.

Time ticked away second by second.

Three o'clock was drawing near.

The most anticipated segment of the day was about to arrive.

The great painter Poupore would personally evaluate a student's talent.

Word of this had already spread several days prior; a master painter, an ordinary art department student, and a talent evaluation—this alone was enough to capture everyone's attention.

Added to that was the fact that the student's background was far from ordinary.

That student bore the surname Poleta.

This was a surname currently stirring up immense storms within the city of Winster.

Moreover, this evaluation was intertwined with certain internal conflicts within Winster University.

It was all too fascinating.

As the time grew near, Ethan had already been summoned over by Earl.

Although it had been announced beforehand that the test would take place in public, once things actually commenced, it was impossible to have Ethan paint amidst a massive crowd, as the pressure would simply be too great.

Earl was genuinely afraid something might go wrong with Ethan, so he argued forcefully, and with the tacit permission of Rollin, ultimately arranged an oceanside classroom to serve as Ethan's private studio.

As for everyone else, they would continue their banquet on the outdoor grounds.

Ethan was given two hours to see what he could produce.

Three o'clock sharp.

The entire banquet venue suddenly fell silent.

Everyone waited in anticipation, searching for the protagonist of the upcoming act.

Poupore was searching as well.

Ethan took the initiative, stepping forward until he stood before Poupore.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Poupore. I am Ethan Poleta, and I am delighted to accept your test."

Ethan behaved with impeccable politeness, even employing a bowing etiquette reserved exclusively for the nobility.

More than a few people had already been captivated by Ethan's appearance.

After all, his face possessed a dangerously handsome quality.

"Ethan, Ethan... I seem to have heard your name before." Poupore touched his mustache, pondering for a moment before seeming to give up.

"Regardless, be careful, young man. I am no gentle soul. Don't be fooled by the jokes I just told; when it comes to the pursuit of art, I recognize only success and failure. If your painting is too poor, I will not hesitate to criticize you mercilessly."

"Naturally. Art is precisely like that."

"Then, everyone..."

Poupore raised his voice so that everyone present could hear him clearly.

"The theme I have chosen for this young man is... Time."

Time?

Hearing this theme, many people wore expressions of blank incomprehension.

What kind of theme was that?

How was one supposed to paint it?

Compared to concrete subjects like the ocean, human figures, flowers, or towering mountains...

Time was an utterly baffling theme.

"Time, is it? Very well, I believe I have some initial ideas." Without looking back, Ethan walked toward the studio.

The people outside remained lost in contemplation.