Not bad.

From the end result, this is definitely not an accidental pollution event.

Since Saint Kuanti had sealed that multi-colored crown for so many years, and the Kingdom never noticed.

Then this time's pollution must have been caused by someone intentionally unsealing it.

There are two possible people, one is the King of Winster.

In hindsight, his organizing people to resolve Saint Kuanti's pollution definitely had ulterior motives.

At the very least, he knew of the existence of the multi-colored crown.

The other is the black-cloaked person who appeared last, wanting to reap the rewards.

He hid behind the scenes, waiting for the right opportunity, definitely knowing quite a lot.

Unfortunately, an accident occurred in the end; Ethan couldn't keep those three people, otherwise, he wouldn't have to keep guessing here.

"Winster is deeper than we imagined."

This time, if Ethan hadn't had the heaven-defying Golden Finger of the 'True God's Name' exist, both he and Vincent would have died in Saint Kuanti.

Then the Bolita surname would, like Murich or Corleone, be washed into this city's sewers.

So, one must aim higher, step out of the black mud, grow stronger, to escape the fate of reverting to black mud.

Until evening, Sandro still didn't make any moves.

He seemed genuine about maintaining peace.

But Ethan wasn't letting his guard down.

All night, he kept Virel on standby.

He himself spent the night painting, not sleeping.

Actually, he's not so afraid of going to war with Sandro now, after all, even if Sandro is one of the three Holy Followers of Destruction God's true name, his 'True God's Name' has evolved.

He might not lose to him.

But now Winster doesn't only have the Mafia presence.

The Prohibition Bureau also watches like a tiger eyeing its prey.

Not to mention those hidden in the shadows.

Now is definitely not the best time for war.

And so the night passed.

Christmas Eve.

Early the next morning, after eating a little breakfast, Ethan began to dress himself up.

Today's City Hall banquet is a luncheon, mainly because New Year is approaching, inviting people from all walks of life to gather ideas on how to plan the New Year celebration, and of course, the most important thing is to raise funds.

Today, Ethan didn't wear brightly colored clothes, he switched to a pure black formal suit, just like when he first became the leader.

12:00 Noon.

City Hall.

The luncheon started on time.

The luncheon itself was naturally uninteresting, after the city official's speech, it was time for donations.

Various businessmen and celebrities took turns to donate money and speak.

Ethan contributed symbolically as well, donating ten thousand Golden Rye.

This is not yet his main battlefield, his reputation and standing are still not enough.

Besides, that's not why he came today.

After another round of speeches and donations, Ethan saw Sandro.

Today, Sandro also entirely looked the part of a successful person, smiling amiably on stage, not showing any trace of the black mud on him.

He talked of how New Year is coming, planning a good community celebration, and taking care of the elderly in the community, then dropped thirty thousand Golden Rye and got off the stage.

Now, it's Ethan's time.

He saw Sandro limping, step by step, toward the depths of a corner.

Along with him were Klei and John Hott.

So he followed them.

Vincent was behind him.

"If something happens later, don't worry about anything else, just kill Sandro, trust that Klei won't do anything."

Vincent calmly walked, yet spoke fiercely.

"Let's see what happens first."

At the corner's depths, there was a hidden room.

Pushing the door open and going in.

Sandro, along with John Hott and the others, were already seated.

A cake was on the table.

George was there too, seemingly arriving first, shrinking beside Sandro, not daring to look at Ethan entering, nor at Klei standing behind Sandro.

"Let's welcome our hero's return!"

As soon as Sandro saw Ethan, he led the applause softly.

Everyone else joined in.

But Ethan wasn't appreciative, just said, "I'm no hero, I didn't do anything, I'm just a survivor."

As he spoke, he didn't sit down, but stood opposite Sandro.

"Don't say that, just going makes you a hero."

Sandro stopped applauding but didn't sit down, continuing, "Ethan, I know you're upset, it's normal, after all, who wouldn't be angry coming back from fighting only to find their home surrounded, not to mention what George did. I'll give you an explanation."

"What kind of explanation is it?" Ethan looked at George.

Vincent also looked at George.

"Betraying allies, by traditional rules, should cost a life." Saying this, Sandro picked up the cake-cutting knife from the table, "However, the talent pool in Winster is dwindling, the Murich and Corleone families are failing. If we keep fighting amongst ourselves, only the Prohibition Bureau will be happy, and our business will suffer. So why not forgive him? In exchange, the Evans Clan will give you a portion of their territory, plus some from the Corleone family, and all of the Murich Clan's lands can be yours. Also, half of George's business for a year will be yours, how about it?"

As he spoke, he cut the cake on the table, placing each slice on a small plate for each sentence spoken.

The last sentence, he handed the knife to Ethan.

It was only then that Ethan walked over, next to George, who shrunk even more in fear, but Ethan didn't look at him, just took Sandro's knife.

"Alright."

At this statement, everyone in the room finally relaxed, even George let out a breath of relief.

John Hott even suggested everyone have cake together.

"Let me help divide it."

So said Ethan, but before anyone could react, he suddenly grabbed George's left hand and with a swift motion severed it at the root.

He then covered George's mouth, preventing any sound, leaving him to struggle helplessly.

"I think, perhaps this hand should be added too, according to tradition, a hand can substitute for a life, let it redeem him, how about it, Sandro?"

Sandro stared into Ethan's eyes.

The atmosphere in the room once again dropped to freezing.

For a long time.

Just as John Hott seemed about to intervene and smooth things over.

Sandro suddenly burst into laughter, "Alright, it's the right thing to do, if you make a mistake, you should pay the price, correct?"

"Exactly," Ethan smiled too, as if he'd really just casually sliced a piece of cake.

He let go of George, who was in such pain he was nearly passing out, received a handkerchief from Vincent, wiped his own hands, finally sat down, and said, "Then, why not start the next topic, how to quickly restore our business, I have an idea."

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