Chapter 222
"Somethingmust have happened."
A sorry-eyed Ludvio greeted us as we stepped out of the truck, which squealed to a halt.
"We had a little trouble on the way here."
Smoke was already pouring out of the engine and an unintelligible hissing sound was coming from it, probably due to the explosion and rough driving earlier.
The owner, Elena, could only stand there in disbelief.
"Aventador!!!"
Your car is named Aventador?
That's amazing, man.
"Don't be too sad, I'll get you a new car."
"Yes?"
"Can I buy you a real Aventador?"
"Actually, my car is so old, I've been thinking about changing it for a while, and well, this one is a piece of shit."
The (former) Aventador was abandoned in an instant.
Ludvio scratched his head at the sight of us.
"Well, at least you seem to be getting along better than yesterday who's next to you."
He glanced at Michaela, who was the last one to get out of the truck, and asked with a puzzled expression.
Perhaps it was because her outfit was boldly proclaiming I'm from the Vatican.
"She's my escort, sent by the Vatican."
"Your escort?"
"Yes. Well, I guess they're just keeping an eye on me to make sure I don't get into trouble."
As I said that, I turned my head, and I could see that she was dazed.
She looked at me with eyes that said, "How long have you known?
No, this is so obvious to anyone, why is she surprised?
"I see. Certainly, someone of your stature deserves the attention of the Vatican."
With that, he turned away and smiled as he extended his hand toward Michaela.
"I'm Ludvio Marco, an old man who makes shoes in this little village. It's an honor to meet you."
At the sound of Ludvio's name, Michaela slowly raises her own small hand and grasps his gnarled one.
"My name isMichaela, and it is an honor to meet the man who is called Maestro, a national treasure of Italy."
Ludvio looks slightly surprised at Michaela's reaction, as if he didn't think she would recognize him, then bursts out laughing.
"Well, that's a little too much of a facepalm, but I'm flattered that you recognized me."
"Because the Cardinal who manages me wears the Maestro's shoes, I am familiar with the Maestro's abilities and legend."
He asked how she knew, and it turns out an acquaintance of his had a copy of the Maestro's work.
"Well, that's embarrassing. Come on, let's all go inside. I haven't seen the inside yet and I'm still waiting."
With that, Ludvio and I walked toward the workshop.
From the outside, it's a plain old building that doesn't look like anything has changed.
However, when we entered the door that clicked open, the inside was completely different from the outside.
"Wow."
The interior, illuminated by a few old-fashioned lights, has been replaced with full LED lighting, the floor is marble tiled, and the shelves are stocked with the best products available today.
"Grandpa, it's like a whole different place!"
Elena walks in with a look of delight on her face and starts looking around like it's her job.
"Why don't you take a look around too, Maestro?"
"Uh, sure."
He, too, begins to pace slowly, looking around.
"Ha. You mentioned that your bank balance had dropped more than I expected, and I think I know why."
Last night a lot more money than I originally thought was gone, so I wondered what was going on, but it turns out they really only brought in top of the line' stuff.
That machine looks brand new, that one, that one, that onehow much is that one. Shes been a very generous shopper this time, hasn't she?
-Hahahahahahaha!
"Why don't you take a look around, Sister, it's your first time in a workshop like this, isn't it?"
I turned my head to look at Michaela, and my eyes locked with hers as she scribbled furiously.
"Sister?"
"Oh, yes."
She hastily puts the notebook away and looks away.
Ahis that some kind of report she's writing while observing me? I felt like playing a little prank on her.
"May I ask what you were just writing down?"
I ask, looking intrigued, and she looks away intently.
"Nothing, it's just my hobbywriting chant, chant, chant."
"Oh. I see."
I wonder who the hell writes chants as a hobby in a place like this, but I let it slide for now.
At least I knew which notebook she wrote in.
A moment later, looking completely satisfied, he walked over and grabbed my hand.
"Sometimes I feel like you were sent by God. How things can go so smoothly as soon as you arriveThank you, thank you, thank you!"
He was quite pleased with what I had prepared.
After all, they say a craftsman never covers his tools.
"I'm glad you like them."
Well, of course he should be happy. The amount of money I spent on this could have bought a small business but it was worth it.
I already knew that a properly made machine is worth enough to buy a small country, let alone a company.
"Please, with these facilities, Maestro, I hope you will make very good equipment."
Yes, very good equipment.
to me.
* * *
"Corleone Jr. Where are you going again this time?"
Inside the car I got through Uber.
I'm traveling in silence, looking at my cell phone while Michaela, who had been sitting next to me, spoke first.
"I'm going to work."
"Are you going alone this time?"
"Not alone, sister is coming with me."
"That's true, but I was wondering if you could at least tell me where you're going."
It wasn't hard to guess why she would ask where I was going.
I made eight Uber requests to get here and only got the last one because I offered to double the fare.
"I guess you can just think of it as going to see someone I know."
"A person you know?"
Yes. An acquaintance. We've met and talked to each other, so I guess I can call him an acquaintance.
Just then, the car we were in slowly came to a stop, pulling up in front of a market.
"That's all I promised, get out of the car."
The driver spoke in a tone that said he was eager to get out of here as soon as possible.
I gave him double the money, as promised, and got out of the car with Michaela.
Then, in a flash, the car drove away, leaving us behind.
We were left alone in this area with no other people in sight.
"Corleone Junior, where are we?"
"The old market. Now it's a neighborhood that's moved on and the regular merchants don't do business here."
"Doesn't that mean there are no shops, then, and why are you here?"
"Because we're not looking for regular merchants'."
"What?"
With a look of confusion on her face, I started walking toward the center of the market.
As we passed through the deserted plaza and into the alleyways, the hustle and bustle began to build.
As stalls and people began to appear, Michaela finally spoke up, as if she'd finally gotten it.
"Black Market."
"Yes. It's the second largest black market in Sicily."
The first, for the record, is run by Corleone and is located in the port city of Messina.
"I'm sure I'm attracting quite a bit of attention just by being here, God willing."
"Oh, that's okay, these people are all doing business under the radar, and it's illegal, anyway."
Indeed, everywhere we went, people were giving us stares or turning their heads to hide their faces, a testament to the Vatican's influence in Sicily.
"Ah, there it is."
We walked through the shopping district and arrived at an abandoned basilica with crumbling walls, broken mosaic windows, and moss.
"here."
"The person I'm supposed to meet is Catholic. Apparently he likes to meet in cathedrals."
Technically, the message was to meet in a church to avoid shedding unnecessary blood.
"It would indeed be a fitting place for you, Sister."
We entered the ruined cathedral to find a larger-than-normal number of people waiting inside.
"Corleone Junior, you've come a long way."
The only seated man stood up from his seat and called my name.
"Don Medici. I see you're quite fond of cathedrals."
"Haha! That's true of you too, I didn't think you'd come with your Vatican sister."
It was as if they had planted someone at the entrance and knew I wouldn't come alone. Or even that I was with a Sister.
And I'm going to take full advantage of this situation.
"By the way, I should introduce you to my colleague, Sister, this is Don Medici. Don of the Medici family, one of the godfathers of Sicily."
She hears me, and her eyes shift to Medici.
After a moment, she bows her head softly and opens her mouth.
"The one who serves God. My name is Michaela."
"And she is Zero Knight of the Holy Knights of the Holy Vatican Empire."
"What?"
Medici repeats, as if he's heard me wrong.
"It is as you have heard. She is a Knight Templar, although she is nowmy escort. Now, Sister, let's go."
With that, I pass through the chapel and plop down beside him.
It's pretty obvious that he's trying to set up the surroundings and people to frighten me, but.
He never would have guessed.
Who would have dared to expect that I would bring the head of the Knights Templar of the Vatican Empire as my escort?
The Medici would be at an absolute disadvantage if something were to happen here.
Even if it were them, they wouldn't dare to lay a hand on someone with such a prominent position in the Vatican.
"Haha, that Sister is the head of the Templars, how funny."
"You think I would defraud the one who carried the cross? I'm sure the Sister would be honored to be in that position, Don Medici, but please don't disparage her."
She hadn't identified herself yet, so Medici seemed to assume that was not the case, but I naturally intertwined her honor with the truth, forcing her to admit it.
"My title of Chevalier of the Order ofwas bestowed upon me by His Holiness the Pope himself. I don't think it would be right to doubt it."
And once again, I get it right, thinking that her honor and that of the Pope are at stake.
This is how I would be seen in the eyes of the Medici family in this room.
The heir to the Corleone family, moving with the Vatican.
And to Michaela, I would look like this.
Corleone Jr. is up to something with the Medici family.
It was a perfectly favorable situation for me.
A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.
"Well, then, let's have the conversation as we've been talking about. How would you like to go to the confessional?
* * *
[Recorded observations of Corleone Jr. today.]
[Confirms his acquaintance with Ludvio Marco, an Italian national treasure craftsman, who seems to have completely changed his workshop this time. As expected, the heir to the Corleone family has a lot of money
Almost got caught. I'll be more careful about recording my observations in the future.
I'm going to start writing chants as an alibi.
Somehow, I have a feeling I'll be good at it.]
[P.S. Received a letter from a Franciscan priest reminding me to keep the report form. I don't remember being taught how to write a report, so I'll start working on it today.]
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