The tide pounded the foundation of the ancient castle, eroding the layers of rock for countless years, and under the impact of the waves, it emitted a sound reminiscent of musical instrunts.
In February, Wenster was still covered in solid ice, but the ocean waves already carried the warmth of spring, frothing freely in the sea.
Sandro stood by the window, quietly listening to these sounds heralding the coming of spring.
He loved these sounds.
Or perhaps, he loved the sea.
Unfortunately, so people could no longer hear this sound of spring.
Klei.
Ernest Kreine.
Honestly, Sandro could hardly rember how many years he had known him.
Thirty years, or twenty-eight?
When they first t, he was a warm-hearted fellow, always with a laugh on his face.
It seed like nothing weighed on his mind.
At the sa ti, he was a restless man; he didn’t want to stagnate in the old family na, even though his best friend was the heir of a family.
He disdained relying on these old relationships to get anything; a man should use his own fists to achieve everything.
These were his confident words back then.
So he took Sandro’s outstretched hand.
And they indeed accomplished it.
They owned many things — a family, a surna, power, strength.
The man of old gained everything with his fists.
Then he encountered the greatest dilemma of his life.
Was it friends, loyalty, or greater power, greater strength?
On the night Alberto was assassinated, Sandro had a conversation with Klei.
"Sandro, I beg you to protect the Bolita Clan."
"You know I can’t do that; it doesn’t align with the family’s interests."
"Just consider it a request from . All these years, I’ve never asked you for anything."
"With what to ask? That ti you saved back then?"
Many years ago, when Sandro first set foot on Wenster’s shores, he was penniless, and ridden with illness, nearly dying in the black mud.
It was Klei who extended his hand.
Klei didn’t speak, but it was akin to silent agreent.
But Sandro said, "You know, to , loyalty is the least valuable thing, except for your loyalty, so don’t keep using that loyalty to talk, because besides that loyalty, nothing is left between us, and this ti I refuse."
That ti Sandro helped Klei.
But this ti, this ti is different.
Still in this study where the sound of the spring tide could be heard.
Sandro looked at Klei and extended his hand.
Just like back then, inviting Klei to create a new family, a new future together.
But this ti, Klei didn’t take that hand.
He rely smiled and said, "Sandro, take that loyalty, please, as I want to rescue Vincent."
Sandro didn’t withdraw his hand; he said, "Klei, you’ve done enough for the Bolita family; you don’t owe them anymore. You need to be aware of your position, you’re the second in command of the Conte family, you should prioritize the family."
"So I voluntarily give up everything in the Conte family; I withdraw from the family. From today on, I have nothing to do with the Conte family. I will go back and tell everyone, you don’t have to worry about gossip."
"Is this your choice?"
Klei tilted his head as if to say, what else?
"If I say, by staying, we’ll soon gain more, not just Wenster, not just the Conte family, stuff beyond your imagination, all you have to do is not..."
"Sandro, Sandro." Klei interrupted Sandro’s words.
"You misunderstood . Actually, you’ve always misunderstood . Do you rember what I told you many years ago? I didn’t care about any family, any power, all I wanted was to prove to those who looked down on that without them, I, Ernest Kreine, could still achieve things. If it were possible, I wouldn’t want to be a Mafia, but rather, I wish to be a cowboy in the West, living freely, drinking, and flirting, gambling at roulette, dying in a duel or on so woman’s bed, that’s the life I wanted..."
At this point, Klei seed a bit tired and sat down again in front of Sandro.
He lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag.
"In fact, I’ve been tired for a long ti, if it weren’t for you, Sandro, because you’re my friend, I didn’t want to see you carry everything alone, otherwise, I’d have left a long ti ago."
"You still can now." Sandro didn’t lower his hand.
"Alberto was my friend too, my brother, I promised him to take care of his child, I can’t leave."
Klei placed the cigarette on Sandro’s finger.
"Let’s leave it like this, Sandro, tell everything."
He had already stood up.
Sandro finally withdrew his hand; he hadn’t smoked in years, yet he took a drag from the cigarette.
"You will die, Klei."
"I always intended to die." Klei was still smiling.
"The child of the Bolita family will die too, all you’re doing is aningless." Sandro took another deep drag, smoke veiling his face.
Klei laughed even more brightly, "Sandro, do you rember what I told you before?"
"I was a nobody, and you were a nobody too, but if even the two of us can’t do it, then there’s no one in the whole of Wenster who could." (Note 1)
"That saying holds true even now, I believe in Ethan, I believe he can do it."
With those words, it ended.
The study door opened and closed.
Sandro held the cigarette, letting it burn down to the end.
In the end, what he saw was still Klei’s smile.
Just like back then.
Ethan now saw Klei’s smile too.
Even in the coffin, he was deceased.
His body was covered with dense scars, his skin almost entirely burned, yet the smile remained on his face.
It was as if he was using that smile to tell Ethan.
See, I said I’d definitely bring Vincent back, didn’t I find him now?
Even if in death.
Ethan had thoroughly examined Klei’s body, and as the shadow described, it was a person hard to look at, unbearably horrifying.
Klei was completely burned by sothing like a small sun.
No doubts remained thus far.
Vincent was indeed in Casar’s hands.
Klei exchanged his life for that information.
Simultaneously, it was Sandro’s deadly blow.
What choice will you make?
Ethan.
Sandro gazed at the sea surface with the first signs of spring tide, gently tapping on the glass window.
Can you really do it?
Ethan personally dressed Klei in the most fitting, most dignified attire, buttoning up each button.
Smile, Klei.
I will help you prove that smiling is worthwhile.
Note 1: This sentence is adapted from Nine Knives’ "Legend of the Hunter."
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