Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 142
Vasilia looked at Yitzfa with a faint smile. “No need to test me, Yitzfa. I don’t like your roundabout way of talking. If the balance among the four families is disrupted, the Foxes won’t fare well either. Isn’t that why you’re here to stir the pot?”
That wasn’t entirely the reason. Yitzfa’s mind wandered briefly to someone with perfect proportions and muscle tone, and he smiled subtly. “The balance among the four families has long been disrupted, Vasilia.”
The other person fell silent.
The Monkey Family, historically the weakest in terms of armed forces, was more ambitious than anyone. As a result, they were also more adept at manipulating the allure of reachable grandeur. They had been cautious until now, but even the Foxes, who had been deeply embedded in White Bridge for years, only began to sense something amiss a few years ago. Due to a mutual non-interference agreement, they couldn’t penetrate the upper echelons of the two families and could only observe from the periphery.
The periphery, in this context, referred to Paradise Island, which never rejected anything.
“If Khalif weren’t so shortsighted, he would envy you Foxes,” Vasilia mocked.
Unlike the Lions and Wolves, the Foxes relied more on experienced and farsighted leaders for long-term development—like the current family head, Yitzfa’s grandfather, who was over a hundred years old.
“That’s just an external misconception. We’re not foolish bloodline purists,” Yitzfa said softly. “Unless Khalif continues to have children, his current sons are useless. Initially, he just wanted to delay things and support his sons for a few more years, but none of them are capable. He doesn’t like any of the promising young men who have been gaining support recently. But in my opinion, he dislikes anyone better than himself.”
“So attached to power yet helpless against his declining prestige, his behavior over the past decade has been like an ant on a hot pan. Trying to create the Holy Grail according to legend and allying with unscrupulous neighbors to study time magic—he hasn’t completely lost his mind yet, though, since he hasn’t killed all the young wolves sharpening their teeth,” Yitzfa said.
“If he did, it would be much easier. Without the Wolves leading the charge, the Monkeys would be utterly defeated,” Vasilia said frankly. “Although I’m not interested in White Bridge, if someone volunteers to die, we won’t be polite.”
The alliance between the Wolf and Monkey was reluctantly accepted by the other two families, but this acceptance was based on maintaining a balance of power.
Khalif’s ambition seemed overly arrogant, but the impact of an arrogant farmer was very different from that of an arrogant lord. Thus, after some thought, the old Fox reached out to the Lion family.
The family head, so old he slept half the day, believed the Lions wouldn’t refuse the Foxes’ hand of friendship this time. He didn’t even send his granddaughter, who had personal ties with Vasilia, but directly had Yitzfa, who was nearby, handle the matter, showing his confidence.
Yitzfa indeed showed enough sincerity. He informed Vasilia of Khalif’s dealings with the Mokwen Kingdom regarding the Holy Grail and presented her with intel about someone causing trouble on Paradise Island. Vasilia wasn’t a fool. Anything that could make the Foxes forsake immediate interests must involve greater stakes. And for them, what could be more important than the family’s core?
The same went for the Lions.
Although White Bridge was a non-military zone, it wasn’t invulnerable. It was like a sturdy turtle shell that couldn’t be cracked immediately, but if resources were cut off from the outside, one could patiently wait for it to wither and decay.
“We’re not good at this sort of thing,” Vasilia said bluntly. “But although we don’t have many people inside, we can still manage to kill a few in secret.”
Vasilia had sneaked in under a false identity. Her name wasn’t on the Lion Family’s delegation list, partly to avoid giving the impression that the Lions took the Monkeys’ secretive maneuvers too seriously and partly because it made assassinations easier without implicating the family—she didn’t intend to leave empty-handed.
Since Yitzfa had come to her, killing Khalif wasn’t out of the question. Although her original target was the eccentric old lady from the Monkey Family, taking down more targets with help wouldn’t hurt.
“We’ve mobilized all our agents on Paradise Island to fan the flames, so you don’t need to worry about that. As for what you mentioned…” Yitzfa thought for a moment. “I’d like to introduce you to someone.”
Vasilia sat up straight.
“The person spreading the list?” She gestured to the stack of papers on the sofa. “Who is he? Are you confident?”
“Nine times out of ten,” Yitzfa said. “Their identity… should be one of Khalif’s experiment victims. I worked with them on the Holy Grail matter.”
Vasilia noticed he used the plural in his last sentence.
“Let me be clear. If it’s just some weakling who distributes flyers, forget it. I don’t need someone who will drag us down,” she said bluntly.
“Rest assured, their combat and physical strength is quite excellent.”
“……” Vasilia suspected Yitzfa might be making a crude joke, but she had no evidence.
……
“Are you okay?” Charlie squatted by the roadside, hands on his knees, asking Dwight.
“Don’t talk to me now.” Under his hood, the Duke’s face was pale and green. Just opening his mouth made him feel like vomiting, but he refused to throw up by the roadside like a drunk. This state of retching but holding it back lasted so long that Charlie got tired of standing.
“Let’s walk back. Maybe some fresh air will help. If we get in the carriage, you might not make it… or we could find a nearby shop to use the restroom?” Charlie suggested.
Although he said that, it was already past midnight, and there were few open businesses near Paradise Island. Dwight waved his hand, so Charlie paid the waiting carriage driver and dismissed him. The two slowly walked along the dark walls toward the inner city.
“You didn’t have to come,” Charlie said, offering him a mint. “I knew you wouldn’t be used to seeing that.”
“They actually live in such conditions,” Dwight said, feeling relieved he hadn’t eaten much for dinner. “How can they survive in that environment?” And in such large numbers. It was unimaginable before tonight.
“There are always more poor people than rich.”
“People in Lemena don’t live like that.”
That was true. Thinking of the free bean soup for the poorest widows in Maplewood, Charlie agreed.
“You’re a good Lord,” he said, as if discovering something new, but his voice was still low, only audible to the two of them.
Dwight didn’t even bother rolling his eyes at him.
He might not be the most approachable Duke, but his family had a tradition of treating commoners well. Otherwise, Priscilla wouldn’t have the tradition of making holiday pastries with farm women every year. With such an upbringing, he naturally wasn’t a harsh master—perhaps overly strict about hygiene and etiquette, but for their own good.
Initially, they were worried that just relying on Eugene and the others wouldn’t be enough to spread the death list quickly. But they underestimated the information dissemination power of an overpopulated community. Privacy was nonexistent there. News of extra meat at someone’s dinner could spread to ten neighboring households. The rumors spread like wildfire, and by the time they left at midnight, people were still discussing and verifying the news, with many homes filled with shocked and painful cries.
Because the people on the list were different from those like Alexander. They still belonged to Paradise Island. While the long absence had somewhat prepared their families, the actual bad news still led to walls being pounded and anguished howls when it came.
Facing such scenes made Charlie uneasy.
Dwight noticed this difference: He was a Duke who had never truly integrated with the commoners, but he had anticipated such a future when the plan was first formed and accepted it.
What concerned him was whether Charlie realized how terrifying it was to provoke the suffering and suppressed anger of the masses, but he had cruelly refrained from reminding him.
If he had said anything, there was a good chance Charlie would have reconsidered and found another way, but the timing and circumstances didn’t allow it.
Once the memories of those filthy scenes were mostly blown away by the night wind. When they reached the bustling commercial district, nearing the houses on the hillside, Dwight finally cleared his throat.
Charlie didn’t notice.
He had been lost in thought, so even the unusual silence of this long walk hadn’t alerted him. While Dwight was silent due to nausea, Charlie’s urge to talk never depended on audience participation.
Seeing they were about to part ways at the porch, Dwight suddenly pulled Charlie back and forcefully closed the door.
The sound brought Charlie back to his senses.
“Do you regret it? Seeing them,” Dwight asked bluntly.
Charlie looked at him silently, his face showing a rare, confused expression.
“I… don’t know,” he said. “Before tonight, I was sure I was right.”
Both the Wolves and Monkeys treated Paradise Island residents like livestock. With Khalif going mad, their situation would only worsen, leading to either silent extinction or rebellion. All he did was accelerate this process.
But was that really the case?
He had seen and heard more suffering tonight than in his entire life. Although rationally knowing the Black Gold Families caused this, without him, these people might never have faced such news until their deaths.
“Then you’re right.”
He heard Dwight say.
“Loss of loved ones is one of their pains, but they have many others. If seeing tonight’s anxiety and tears makes you forget the daytime’s decay and despair,” Dwight said, “no ruler wanting to give people a chance would treat them this way. They have no way out. An earlier eruption brings an earlier chance for change. Even if it fails, it brings the unknown end closer. How many repeat sufferings like tonight’s might this avoid?”
“I considered what you are hesitating about long ago,” Dwight said. “Don’t waver. We’re on the right path.”
The author has something to say:
Charlie: They all say I look more like an older brother, so I’ve decided to stop calling you Louis and call you Little Brother!
Charlie: Little Brother, do you agree?
Charlie: Little Brother, call me Big Brother.
Charlie: Little Brother, Little Brother, Little Brother.
Louis: Who is this weirdo? Alexander, don’t let suspicious people in randomly.
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