act38side

Cazzo! I said, on my order, you idiot!

I-It wasn't me! I only just pulled the safety on my gun—

And it's not them, either. See that shocked look on their faces, they're checking themselves for holes...

Did someone's weapon go off?

No, nobody's hurt... but where did that gunshot come from?

I thought I knew what to do just now, but... w-what do we do now?

I can see the head of the first float already...

...Hey, you over there.

<p=2>Three minutes ago</>

*Cough*—Gah—

Two hundred meters... just two hundred...

Haven't lost your touch, Ingrid... not one bit...

Merda, it hurts... I can feel my blood flow out of me... but that means I still have time...

Get out of this alley, get back to the square, and I can still bring things under control...

We have the courthouse and the port...

Maybe I'll die, but... *cough*... before I die, I'll sit in the judge's chair, and deliver the final judgment of... *cough*... this ridiculous testing ground...

Antonio leans against the wall and does his best to stay upright, wobbling towards the exit.

The alley is dark, and every step takes massive effort.

For some reason, he thinks back to how the guerillas crept through the jungle of Bolívar by night, escaping from the Singas government.

Antonio thinks back to the circles that the noble drunkenly drew on the list, and his severed head when the guerillas cut it off.

He thinks back to Ingrid, Venezia Senior, Leontuzzo, Alberto, Signora Sicilia... all the people he hates.

He will take everything from them. He will draw a big, bloody cross on their names.

It's not over yet—

He stops.

He feels the cold metal of gun muzzle pressed to his forehead.

A-Antonio.

Carle?

I ordered you to get out—

W-Who do you think you are to kick me out?!

You're just the Don's guard tuskbeast, Antonio!

No matter how hard you try to disguise your ears and tail, you—

You want to kill me?

YOU?

Your hands are shaking!

You don't know who my enemies are! You don't know what I'm building! You stupid, worthless coglione—

Carle stares blankly at the lifeless body on the ground. He has never seen such fury as that which is on Antonio's face, even unto death.

It almost seems like it was not the bullet that took Antonio's life, but the fact that it was he, Carle, who fired the bullet.

Antonio's blood seeps through the cracks on the ground, in the shape of a massive, bloody cross.

Hey, you over there.

Eirene?

It's okay.

Before everybody's eyes, Eirene leaves the drivers' line and takes two steps forward, standing in the middle of the road.

Facing off the tense crowd of mafiosi, she takes a deep breath, and lowers her crossbow.

What is the meaning of this?

Look. The first float has rounded the corner...

The parade is here. Are we really going to fight to the death in front of hundreds of thousands of Nuova Volsinii citizens?

Whatever your plan was, it's too late, isn't it?

You want us to lower the weapons?

You think we're stupid?

We're doing the same thing.

The White Wolf scattered this stuff on the plaza. We, as conscientious citizens of Nuova Volsinii, volunteered to clean up the square so that the parade can pass through.

That's what happened, no more, no less. All of you Signori and Signore are witnesses for me and all the drivers behind me.

They, in turn, are your witnesses.

It's Carnevale, after all. Let's give the parade a warm, proper welcome.

*Pant*—*pant*—

Get in, Carle.

The parade is almost here. We can't park here for long.

There's a Carnevale mask on the driver's seat. Put it on and hide that blood on your face.

D-Don Venezia.

Move.

The car starts moving, and the parade crowd passes through behind.

Music and cheering mingle under the bright lights. It has been a good four or five hours since the revelry started, but Nuova Volsinii's excitement shows no sign of abating.

From the expansion plate, through all of Nuova Volsinii's major districts, the procession is about to arrive at its destination. Nobody notices a lone car driving in the opposite direction.

I'm sorry, D-Don Venezia, I didn't get the job done.

You gave me a chance after Antonio ran me out, ordered me to take him out quietly, but I...

If Ingrid didn't already mortally wound him before I got there...

No, Antonio died by your hand.

The Don's permission is required for the execution of a formal associate of the familglia. At minimum, a proper explanation should be given to important members of the famiglia.

Ingrid's methods were not... decent.

Understood, sir.

But now, Antonio is dead... he was your son-in-law, the famiglia's—

Nuova Volsinii has its rules. So does Venezia.

What Anton did was wrong. This is an act of kindness. He is with Bella now.

Besides, his death will not be meaningless.

What next, sir?

We go home and clean the house.

The first thing that City Hall and the courts will see when they get up in the morning tomorrow is Venezia's good faith. We will sit down together, and we will talk like decent people.

It will be a busy night.

Keep up, keep up! Court Square is just ahead! We got to get ahead of that float to get a good place—

Well, don't squeeze!

You're not joining them, Signorina?

Your plain outfit stands out in a crowd of colorful costumes and masks! What an idea, to turn things on its head.

May I take a few photos? I can mail them to you if you give me an address.

Hey, are you listening?

Agnese?

Why don't you say anything, Agnese?

You've never left me before... where are you?

The Lupo girl's eyes harden.

The photographer gazes across the street. The red hood stands out in the crowd, even in this revelry.

A trap? How did you—

You got distracted.

Is Agnese your grandma? You can't find your grandma too?

You're the last one. The last true wolf.

Kill you, and I will know the answer.

Grandma?

I'm here, child.

I won, grandma.

I saw it.

I saw how the entire battle played out. How you zeroed in onto the Fang of Agnese, lured her into a trap, and struck her down with a single blow.

You can see? Have your eyes healed, Grandma?