Chapter 59: The Snow Has Fallen (Revised)

“Don’t move.”

Amid the sound of the crashing sea, Ethan and Anya had already arrived.

They saw Vincent carrying Lewis, but, not fully understanding the situation yet, they aimed their guns at the two of them.

“Slowly turn around.”

Vincent complied, carefully turning Lewis around.

Ethan caught sight of that face.

It was a face strikingly similar to his own, yet rougher, more angular, mature, and far more robust.

This man…

“Ethan, long time no see.”

His voice was both unfamiliar and strangely familiar.

At last, a fragment of his past memory surfaced in Ethan’s mind.

“Vincent… you’re Vincent? You’re still alive?”

Vincent Boretta, Alberto’s second son, had disappeared twelve years ago.

Alberto had frantically searched for him for two years, and when all efforts failed, he finally gave up.

The family had long accepted that he was dead.

Hence, whenever the Boretta lineage was later mentioned, only Leonardo and Ethan were acknowledged.

Yet he was still alive…

“Where have you been all these years?”

“Now’s not the time for that, Ethan. Once I deal with this guy, we’ll talk.”

Vincent effortlessly snatched the gun from Lewis’s hand and crushed it with a twist.

“That note… was it you who gave it to me?”

Vincent nodded.

A few days ago, Ethan had received a note warning him to be cautious on the day Popol arrived, as someone intended to harm him.

He had never guessed who sent it, but now the answer was clear—it was Vincent.

At this, Lewis laughed despite his shattered jaw and inability to speak properly, forcing out several bloodied words.

“Ethan… even like this… I’ve won this round… you’re finished!”

“Finished? You mean my craft workshop? But Verin is still there.” Ethan looked at him, shaking his head, both sighing and silently scolding his stupidity.

“Impossible!” Lewis’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Absolutely impossible.

---

If Verin was in the workshop, then on the Cabrera family’s side…

“Your plan was clever—convince Palen to betray me, send Verin to quell the rebellion and attack the workshop, lure me down the mountain, then kill me so my reputation is destroyed and I’m left with no escape. Brilliant.”

Ethan applauded softly.

“But you miscalculated two things: one, Vincent; and two… Palen never dared betray me. He told me everything long ago.”

Lewis was gasping violently, his eyes bloodshot.

“Say goodbye to this world, Lewis.”

Vincent grabbed his throat with such force he could easily crush it.

“Stop!”

But at that moment, a voice abruptly cut through the air.

When it sounded, even the wind and the crashing waves behind them seemed to pause.

Simultaneously, three gunshots rang out, striking Vincent from a sly angle.

Vincent stiffened for a second, then released Lewis and dodged.

Ethan and Anya fired toward the source of the shots.

“Can’t hit me.”

The voice spoke again.

Soon after, a man appeared before them, shielding Lewis behind him.

The bullets had missed; he even dusted himself off.

This man, dressed in black leather like Lewis, appeared to be in his early twenties, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, looking refined and scholarly.

Yet Ethan sensed a formidable aura radiating from him.

Ethan’s gun was already aimed at him.

“Gentlemen, I’m here to take this inept colleague of mine home. Though he’s hopeless—even I think he’s foolish—I simply cannot allow you to kill him here.”

He pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, by the way, I should introduce myself. I’m Eberlin Court, a newly appointed Prohibition Investigator, recently transferred from the capital. I look forward to working with you.”

He bowed slightly, full of courtesy.

But the next moment, a thick cloud of smoke suddenly rose at his feet.

Ethan immediately shielded Anya, sensing the malice within the smoke.

“He’s gone.”

After a while, Vincent spoke from within the dissipating fog, his gaze fixed on one direction.

There, Eberlin Court was bounding swiftly away, carrying Lewis like a jerboa, already quite far.

“Too easy on him,” Vincent muttered, shaking his bloodied hand.

“There will be other chances,” Ethan said, watching Eberlin’s retreating figure.

Compared to Vincent, this man they had just met was the one occupying his thoughts.

A formidable adversary.

“I just remembered—did you have urgent business on the mountain today? Didn’t get delayed, right?” Vincent asked after a pause.

“No. It was finished long ago.” Ethan turned to look toward the cliff where Winster University stood.

“Let’s go home.”

Snow, held back by the sky all day, finally began to fall.

———

As the snow descended inside Winster University,

People were still waiting for Ethan’s work.

The falling flakes caught their attention.

Fortunately, the banquet was held beneath a glass canopy, semi-outdoors, so no one was touched by the snow.

Yet the sky was darkening.

It was nearly half past four.

Only half an hour remained until the deadline.

Some had grown impatient and privately approached Loren with complaints.

Ramon, overhearing, spoke loudly, “Everyone, it’s getting late. Let’s send someone in to check on Ethan’s progress. If he can’t finish, we shouldn’t waste any more time. After all, heavy snow and darkness make descending the mountain dangerous.”

Many nodded in agreement. Earl’s face darkened, his confidence waning.

As Loren was about to agree, Earl hurriedly said, “Principal, I’ll go check. After all, he is my student.”

Loren consented.

Earl hurried toward the classroom, deliberately slowing his pace to buy Ethan more time, though he was also terrified of the outcome.

What if… Ethan had painted nothing at all?

When Earl finally entered the classroom, his heart sank utterly.

Ethan was not there.

He had run away?!