At last, the long-dry Wenster has begun to rain with a cold chill.
This will likely be the last cold rain we see this year in Wenster.
From now on, nothing but snow will touch the ground here.
The rainwater continuously slides down from the eaves, finally merging into the shadowy sewers.
Wenster's sewage system is quite complete; being by the sea, Wenster's municipal projects allocated many resources to sewage systems early on.
Moreover, successive city governors kept maintaining it for their achievements, so, for a long time, Wenster's sewer system was quite comfortable, clean, and warm, serving as a home for many homeless people.
However, after subsequent sweeps, crackdowns, many entrances were sealed, greatly reducing the number of people hiding underground.
Still, some people manage to sneak in when the patrols on the surface aren't looking.
Like right now, beneath a certain manhole, someone is struggling to lift their head, trying to catch the rainwater flowing down from the surface.
Even though the rainwater is cold, bitter, and carries various indescribable tastes, he is desperately opening his mouth wide, pouring the rainwater down his throat.
He hasn't had fresh water for days, not to mention food; even though his physique is beyond ordinary, long-term lack of proper nutrition leaves him extremely weak.
Not to mention, he's also injured.
On his right hand, there's an incredibly neat cut—his right hand has been chopped off completely.
Although the wound has scabbed and no longer bleeds, the blackened and purplish flesh shows clearly that this injury is seriously affecting his health.
After filling up on rainwater, he pulls out a scavenged can and starts collecting the rainwater; after collecting three or four cans, he finally manages to carry them back to his hiding spot.
He has been hiding in the sewers for nearly half a month; he doesn't know when the chase above ground will end.
But he knows, given his current situation, going out will be certain death. He must hang on, hang on until they stop looking for him.
With bloodshot eyes, he picks up a bag of expired bread, tearing with his mouth, ready to eat.
Suddenly, a voice emerges from the surrounding darkness.
"Once a promising elite candidate for the Security Office's Special Operations Department, now eating trash like a dog in the sewers—how saddening."
"Who?!" The man eyes the shadows with utmost vigilance, curling his entire body into a ball, making a pouncing posture, looking much like a fierce wild dog.
But the person in the dark remains silent, with only the sound of hard-soled boots tapping on the ground echoing in the sewers.
After a good while, the speaker finally steps into the light.
This person wears an unmistakably fine black leather coat, his face strong and square, exuding a rock-like aura, and the most eye-catching thing about him is the bright purple tie hanging from his neck.
"Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Marvin Price, captain of the Kingdom Defense Bureau's Special Service Department's third squad, now an agent of the Kingdom's prohibition, Lewis Campbell, I'm here to bring you back to the team. A lion should run on the prairie, not fight for food with hyenas in the gutter. I truly admire everything you've done in Wenster."
While speaking, the man walks up to Lewis, extending his hand.
Lewis, who couldn't appear more like a vagrant, is at a loss, his alertness all but gone, until Marvin grips his remaining hand, pulling him up from the ground, and only then does Lewis shed tears of blood.
"Yes, sir!"
—————————
Ethan couldn't help sneezing.
Maybe it's because it suddenly started raining today.
Standing by reporting is Eugene, who promptly closes the window carefully, then quickly returns to stand obediently before Ethan.
Eugene came to report voluntarily; the first batch of bootleg liquor has already exploded in impact, even putting aside the yields from the Sea God, the bootleg liquor scattered everywhere has generated enormous profits.
As the finance manager, Eugene came with vision.
Ethan flips through the financial statements, including income from bootleg liquor, and summaries of other industries, but compared to bootleg liquor, it's really insignificant.
This really is the most lucrative business, no wonder everyone is risking their lives getting into it.
"Good job, Eugene, at the next family meeting, I will certainly commend you well."
Ethan casually compliments.
After last meeting, Ethan set rules, afterward holding monthly meetings, meticulously counting merits, then proceeding with rewards and punishments.
Eugene seems excited, repeatedly expressing gratitude, even wants to step up and kiss Ethan's emblem.
Ethan stops him, saying: "Better head back early, it's a busy period now, you need to coordinate the funds well."
Eugene leaves appreciatingly.
Ethan also exhales slightly; the funds have come back, be it mass-producing the Winster typewriter or helping Bob establish a new law firm, there's no problem at all.
Ever since that night because of naming the Winster typewriter prototype, thus awakening a new authority, Ethan has been particularly attentive to this gun.
The next day he went to find Virel, personally engaged with the craftsmen, and came up with an improved version on the same day; after refining the drum magazine, the Winster typewriter has basically lived up to its name.
Even if there's a jamming situation, it can fire over thirty rounds in one go.
It's practically a rain of bullets.
The reason he's so attentive is that he has a hypothesis: previously just prototyping the firearm led to the awakening of a true name, if subsequently continuously promoting this gun, getting more people to use and love this gun, will there be further changes?
Simultaneously, based on the changes with the Winster typewriter, Ethan has other conjectures.
If the trigger for the awakening of a true name is the invention of something previously nonexistent in this world, then if he makes strides in bootlegging, could he obtain a corresponding true name?
Based on this hypothesis, these days he's been recalling brewing techniques from his past life, but unfortunately, he really has no interest in this area, can't remember a thing.
"Sir, time's getting on, you should be heading out soon."
Anya has probably just seen Eugene out, coming to the study, speaking to Ethan.
"What's the schedule today?" Ethan is quite busy now, his schedule almost fully booked every day.
"You should be heading to Winster University to handle your transfer affairs today." Anya, like a perfectly functioning robot, reports the answer without a moment's thought.
"Oh, right, I almost forgot about it, let me change clothes; today's really not suitable weather."
Ethan glances at the cold rain outside, unable to refrain from complaining.