Old Gods, Rapid-Fire Guns, and Prohibition

Chapter 298 [Brothers]

A morning when the wind has stopped.

Some people, however, are sleepless. There are many who are sleepless, but without a doubt, Michelle is one of the most significant among them.

As a military officer who rose from the bottom, he was born in a slum in the northern part of the capital. At that time, the industrial age had not yet arrived, and he could not even get a job in a factory.

With no other options, he could only pin his hopes on the military.

At first, he was just a lowly soldier without a formal rank. After all, there were plenty of indigenous people like him in the army. They did all the dirty and hard work, and when it came to merit, none of it went to them.

Originally, he, like countless others of his clan, was destined to die at the bottom of the army.

At this time, the fourth Morma extermination began.

He seized the opportunity, using the blood and tears of his own people to pave his way to promotion.

It was during this purge that he seized the most important opportunity of his life, risking his life to save the eldest prince Havensius, who was assassinated during his travels.

From then on, he caught the eye of Havenius and rose rapidly through the ranks.

He first served as Havenius's personal bodyguard, and later transferred to the Royal Guard. Relying on his military achievements and the power of the eldest prince, he rose to the high position of director of the Third Division of the Operations Department in just a few years.

His life was, in some ways, legendary; one could say, his life was the standard template that Trafford aspired to.

Therefore, he also has a high opinion of Trafford.

only……

Trafford has disappointed him repeatedly lately.

Especially tonight, no, it was already last night.

Last night was a crucial one, and Trafford patted his chest and promised that he would bring everyone back by dawn.

In the past, when Trafford said that, he always did it.

This is evident in his past career, and it was precisely because of this that Michelle recognized his talent that she promoted him all the way, even originally intending for him to take charge of four departments.

But from the moment that thought crossed my mind, everything took a sharp turn for the worse.

"Still haven't found Trafford?"

Michelle, who had been sitting in the chair with her eyes closed, opened them as the door was knocked on and opened.

Another of his trusted confidants entered.

The confidant glanced at the other person in the room and slowly shook his head.

He then added, "It wasn't just Trafford, the whole team disappeared."

"The entire team has disappeared?"

Michelle frowned.

This was something he absolutely could not have imagined.

South District, again South District.

Last time at Trafford, they also failed in the South.

What is the magic of this southern district?
"We've already sent people to investigate, but Trafford has withdrawn a lot of people, and many are still working for the Fifth Division, so we have limited manpower available. It will probably take some time."

Michelle didn't speak, but looked at the third person in the room.

This man also looked tired, as if he hadn't slept all night, but he still maintained good manners. When Michelle looked at him, he gently pushed up his glasses and said with a smile, "In that case, I'd better go see my brother first. He won't be at ease until he sees him."

"no problem?"

Michelle felt somewhat apologetic.

After all, the problem lay with him, and this time, the success was entirely due to the man in front of him.

This is a truly ruthless person; even someone as cold-blooded as Michelle had to sigh in admiration. He merely used the blood of his own people to secure his future; this man directly used the blood of his own brother to secure his future.

Jonas Evans.

“No problem. From childhood to adulthood, my brother has never beaten me, never.”

He smiled, took off his glasses, and then took out a silk handkerchief to carefully wipe them. After a while, he put them back on, stood up, straightened his suit, and went out.

As he was leaving, he turned back to look at Michelle and her companion and said, "By the way, would you like some coffee? I can bring you a couple on my way back; I heard the coffee in the interrogation room is pretty good."

"Thank you."

Michelle simply smiled and nodded.

Only after the door closed did he glance at his confidant and whisper, "That's why you should never mess with this kind of person, or you never know when you might get bitten."

Jonas didn't hear those words, and even if he had, he would have just laughed it off and not taken it seriously at all.

He had heard similar comments many times since he was a child.

People who make such remarks often meet one of two fates.

First, if someone doesn't even have the right to talk to you, then there's no need to bother with them; something else will naturally overwhelm them.

Second, he is already dead.

The distance from the third location to the interrogation room wasn't too far; even though Jonas walked slowly, he arrived in fifteen minutes.

Although he wasn't a member of the Royal Guard at all, everyone was making way for him at this moment.

The interrogation room door opened, and, without anyone accompanying him, he met again with Joseph, who could be considered a serious offender.

"Joseph, how was your sleep last night?"

He sat down, displaying an impeccable smile, and looked at his younger brother across from him.

In some ways, everything about Joseph was a copy of Jonas, such as his impeccable manners, approachable demeanor, even his smile and the speed of his speech.

However, that seems to have happened a long time ago.

Joseph changed after the failed trial at Winston's, perhaps because he grew tired of it, or perhaps because he rediscovered himself.

He's become more self-centered now, and even in high society, he might seem a bit vulgar.

But he likes himself the way he is now.

He sat there lazily, legs apart, his beard unkempt and he hadn't showered in ages, looking like a homeless man, yet he was surprisingly calm.

Just like how he fell in love with a female painter from a humble background who was also a rebel, which was completely contrary to common sense.

In the past, this would have been impossible.

This is going to be included in Joseph's favorite collection of jokes.

Now he doesn't care, and even seems to enjoy the feeling.

Maybe it's because it feels good to be myself.

"Not bad, how about it, Jonas, my dearest brother? You didn't come here just to say good morning, did you? Where's the person I'm supposed to see?"

As he spoke, he looked towards the door.

"The person has been caught, but in order to ensure things proceed smoothly to the end, I've changed my mind. You can only see her after today's events are over."

Jonas remained calm and composed, as if everything he said was true.

Upon hearing this, Joseph's relaxed expression suddenly tensed up.

"What if I say no?"

(End of this chapter)