"Well then, what exactly does a city inspection entail?" Giotto asked as they rode their horses through the city gates.
"It's mostly just a walk. I'm simply checking that things are in order. This city has its own officials, though they're stretched thin during these times of war."
They arrived around 10:00 AM. The city was as bustling as ever—a mid-sized town with canals reminiscent of Venice, where boats were essential for both travel and trade. One side faced the sea, the other a small forest. Given the well-laid roads, Saya felt a sense of relief; at least there was some semblance of urban planning, though the drainage system remained a mystery.
"Forgive the strange question, but who designed the city's drainage?"
"Lord Francesco had experts look into it about two years ago," Giotto explained. "But as this is an old city, we couldn't overhaul everything at once, though improvements were made. I agree with you—poor sanitation is a breeding ground for disease. In a city of trade, we have to be vigilant."
So, public health initiatives were already in motion. Saya felt a surge of relief. "That's a relief to hear."
"It seems to put your mind at ease," he noted, observing the shops coming to life. "This city has weathered much. Before Lord Francesco and I arrived, he tried to help, but the treasury was constantly drained by war, leaving nothing for development."
"So when you stepped in, you became the major investor, collecting rent and owning the city's businesses, right?" she asked with a playful, knowing glint in her blue-eyes. Giotto wondered if her smile was that of an innocent girl or someone who knew the future. "If I had to guess, you and Lord Francesco made a deal, didn't you?"
"Your intuition is frighteningly accurate," he admitted. The sea breeze whipped through their hair.
When Giotto's activities skirted the edge of the law, he was protected by Francesco—much like the situation with Princess Irina. Publicly, Giotto was just the son of a wealthy landowner and businessman, a major financier. Yet, everyone knew he had great power behind him. Instead of fear, the townspeople showed him respect, largely because Giotto was kind, gentle, and fair. While a few disliked his methods, he had brought peace to the city.
"...It's as you said. Most of the land belongs to my family, so acting as an agent isn't unusual," Giotto smiled warmly. "It's a symbiotic relationship. I solve problems—security, settling disputes, and so on."
And sometimes acting as a vigilante, he thought. "The port seems busy today. I should take a look."
Saya saw galleons docking, filled with goods from India and Portugal. Officials were already beginning the unloading process.
"We trade with the Portuguese," Giotto explained, pointing at the ships. "They can't transport by land due to trade monopolies, so they sail around the Cape of Good Hope. It's often smuggled goods, but if they dock here, they are subject to inspection and duty."
"Vongola handles the inspections?" Saya asked. Giotto smiled.
"If the government tried this, they'd be in jail. It's dangerous, hurts legitimate trade, and disrupts market balance—you understand market mechanisms, don't you?"
Citizens greeted them warmly as they rode past.
"I understand. It's unfair to honest merchants," Saya said. "But you do this because it can't be stopped, right?"
Giotto met her eyes. "It can't be stopped, but it can be controlled. I charge a service fee that makes them think twice about whether they should go legal next time. But I offer services worth the price. I let them weigh their options—the light or the dark. The money goes to managing Vongola, low-interest loans for the townsfolk, or development funds for Lord Francesco. And every month, I donate to the city and those in genuine need."
"That 'services worth the price' part was quite impressive. You're ruthless, Mr. Giotto. Even the city lord is your debtor, aren't you?" Saya teased. Giotto chuckled softly. "You've made me very curious about the history of this city and Vongola."
"Lord Giotto, please accept this." A young girl handed him a bouquet. He thanked her politely before excusing himself.
"You're quite the charmer," Saya remarked with a smile, causing him to suppress a grin and change the subject.
"As I was saying, it's normal to avoid the light of the law when it fails, and instead use those in the same world to oversee things. It prevents bigger problems, like the transport of dangerous goods—gunpowder, weapons, and the like. 'Controlled goods,' I like to call them."
"I see..."
"Sometimes there are sick sailors hiding on board... or criminals on the run. Let's leave the horses at the hotel and walk."
"Okay! What's next? This is exciting," she asked.
"Negotiations. Sometimes these people were once good men, and I like to give them a second chance. Lord Francesco seems to understand this." Saya flinched, remembering her own words from the night before. "Some become Vongola allies, some are sent to other friendly families. It's the way of the dark world. I've said too much, I'm afraid."
He dismounted at the hotel, where a groom immediately rushed to take the horses.
"What if I joined Vongola?" Saya asked as Giotto lifted her down. "Would I get to know all of this?"
"The dark world is strong and alluring, but it isn't beautiful, Leyla," Giotto said as her feet touched the ground. "It's a constant struggle of taking and being taken from. Even the strongest have rules they must respect... which is why Lord Francesco..."
"Hey! Giotto!" A voice bellowed. A man with long black hair in a ponytail, pale blue eyes, and tanned skin appeared with four henchmen. Giotto recognized them from the post-auction trouble. "This time, I'm going to kill you!"
"Uh... who is that?" Saya asked.
"...A passing scorpion," he answered. "I thought the city lord had exiled him."
"I am Wilhelm, the Raging Storm, leader of the Scorpio Famiglia! Today, I will finish you and take over Vongola!"
"Try if you can," Giotto said calmly. "But there is a lady here. May I take her to safety first?"
Giotto escorted Saya to a nearby fruit stand, draping his cloak over her. "Hold onto this for me. Just a moment."
"Okay," she said. Giotto patted her shoulders and turned to the apple merchant. "Please look after her for a moment, Marcello."
"Give 'em hell!" Marcello cheered. Giotto walked to the center of the market.
"If you use that gun at your hip, it won't be good for the innocent bystanders. How about bare hands? It's quieter, more fun, and won't cause a panic."
"Fine by me," Wilhelm said, cracking his knuckles. "Right here, Giotto?"