Time passed quickly, and the first batch of bootlegged liquor was ready.
And the time for the Sea God to stay in Wenster was also coming to an end. After ten days, it was ready to set sail to another place.
So Ethan had to convene a meeting and openly discuss the business with everyone involved.
That morning, after Ethan washed up, he changed into a well-tailored white suit and planned to have breakfast before heading out.
But Anya brought some bad news.
"Young master, a telegram from the Royal Capital, sent by your professor..."
Anya's expression was still mechanical and calm, but Ethan detected a trace of awkwardness in her.
The telegram read:
"Damn it, Ethan, Ethan Polleta, what on earth are you doing? Why haven't you returned from that damn hometown of yours? Do you know what you are about to miss? If you don't take the autumn exam, I cannot recommend you to further your studies in the institute with straight A+s, and your art journey will be incomplete. Do you realize the gravity of this sin? I'll give you five more days, hurry and get back to me, don't make me kick your butt with my boot! - Your loving professor, Hughes"
Upon reading the telegram, Ethan remembered that his vacation was over. In theory, he should have already returned to the Royal Capital to attend the autumn exam.
But theory was irrelevant now, as he had already become the Mafia leader, so there was no way he'd go back for such exams.
"Young master, do you want me to send a telegram to decline?" Anya asked timely.
Ethan was about to nod but paused.
Wait a minute, who said a good Mafia boss can't also be an excellent artist, scholar?
Whether it's past life examples of Mafia bosses washing clean to reach life pinnacles.
Or the lessons of this life—
He didn't want to be dragged into the Security Office in handcuffs again.
Lewis's issue only temporarily made the Security Office wary of him; after some time, they might still hold a grudge.
And to truly make the Security Office not dare to touch him, he needed to gain a truly significant status.
Great artist Ethan?
Or perhaps... Councilor Ethan?
Whichever identity, a solid education seemed to be a firm foundation.
"Reply for me, dear teacher, I am truly sorry, I do love art, but my family had an incident, my father..."
While eating breakfast, Ethan carefully chose his words.
Going back to school was impossible, but transferring back was possible.
Wenster also had universities, just not as prestigious, otherwise, Ethan wouldn't have gone to the Royal Capital to study initially.
He wanted Hughes to help him transfer back.
Though from the telegram, Hughes seemed a furious fellow.
But from past memories, Hughes was, on the surface, a cranky little old man, but in fact, he was very kind to students. From his writing, it wasn't hard to see he liked Ethan as a student, even giving him five extra days for the exam.
So, he could only apologize to Hughes.
The telegram was drafted, and Anya appeared somewhat confused, yet she said nothing, because the young master was always right.
After breakfast, Ethan took the Klaus Long Spear heading to Beihai Star.
The Beihai Star was naturally the best location for such a high-level meeting beyond comparison.
On the fourth floor of Beihai Star, in the top-floor grand meeting room, people were already present when Ethan arrived.
This person was a familiar face, none other than George.
Clearly, as someone who was almost kicked out and struggled to return, George probably didn't sleep much the previous night, waiting early in the meeting room.
Seeing Ethan, he stood up quickly, wanting to step forward, yet stopped abruptly, seemingly preserving his last shred of dignity, merely smiling to greet, "Hey, Ethan, morning."
Ethan didn't want to make things difficult for him either, smiling and nodding, "Morning, George, looks like you're full of enthusiasm."
Anyway, everyone in Wenster now knew George was a failure; there was no need to crush him, which would be counterproductive.
Also, George had transferred the southern suburb's craft factory to him a few days ago, along with Lewis.
George sent to Ethan's home was a hand of Lewis, along with his epaulet.
That was sincerity.
As Ethan settled, soon a third person arrived, someone Ethan didn't know; George eagerly introduced him, "This is Haska of the Murich Clan, Haska, this is the recently famous Ethan."
Haska was a graceful middle-aged man, handsome in appearance, with meticulously combed hair, wearing shining hair oil, and sporting a neatly groomed mustache, hardly resembling a Mafia leader, more like a male movie star.
Upon hearing George's introduction, he promptly approached Ethan and embraced him.
"Ethan, thank you so much for letting me join this great endeavor, I'm at a loss for words."
The Murich Clan's previous main business was in the adult industry, and the Bolita family had previously tried to expand their business, clashing with them, but it wasn't much of a conflict.
Not to mention, now there's such a good business like bootlegging.
Haska had long forgotten past grievances.
After Haska, it was Danny.
Danny also expressed immense joy, while occasionally glancing at George, sincerely grateful to George, for without George's chaos, he'd have no idea how to involve himself in this business.
The last to arrive is usually the most important, so Sandro was the last one to walk in, accompanied by three others, none other than his friends' political henchmen.
After everyone was seated, they began discussing various details; in fact, Ethan had already communicated with Sandro beforehand.
Sandro and his friends naturally got the biggest share, then Ethan, while the other three families received the smallest share.
No one else had objections to this, so the distribution of benefits was discussed very happily.
Once the discussion ended, George opened a bottle of fine wine and poured for everyone.
Everyone downed their drink with laughter and chatter.
Suddenly, someone lightly tapped their wineglass, signaling everyone to quiet down.
Ethan looked at this person.
This person was one of the henchmen, named John Hott, on the surface a well-known businessman in Wenster, owner of Glacier Investment Company, but actually, he was a lackey for some heavyweight figure.
Klei mentioned, his boss might be the one sitting at the Judicial Hall.
"Everyone, our big ship set sail successfully, but don't become too complacent, for the first big wave is already crashing, don't let the boat capsize just after setting out of the harbor."
The group stared at him, somewhat puzzled.
He smiled and finally revealed the answer, "From what I know, the Kingdom's Prohibition Agents are already on their way."