CHAPTER 38: CHAPTER 38: IT’S ALWAYS RAINING IN WENSTER

The cold rain in Wenster kept falling.

For several consecutive days.

It was as if all the rainwater was to be poured out in these few days.

But the rain couldn’t stop the flourishing bootlegging business, as the illegal alcohol spread like the rain itself.

This morning, Virel got up very early.

Because the second batch of illegal alcohol was freshly produced yesterday, unlike the last time, with the help of the Sea God swallowing a large batch of goods, even after distributing to various casinos, hotels, underground bars, and brothels, there was still a substantial surplus.

In this era, having surplus wine is a crime, equivalent to letting gold rot underground.

So Ethan used the connections of Sandro’s partners to find a channel to the neighboring city, selling the surplus wine to them at twice the current market price.

Of course, afterwards, the money would definitely be split fifty-fifty, with a share given to Sandro.

Ethan understands well that everyone should profit.

Since it was the first transaction, Virel decided to personally escort this batch of goods for safety’s sake.

Even though, in recent days, everything seemed peaceful, without reports of any business mishaps.

But caution is the most important thing in this line of work.

Virel maintained this very well, believing that it was precisely caution that kept him alive until now.

Moreover, Ethan constantly reminded him that the Prohibition Agents’ persistent absence was bizarre, possibly lying in wait for a deadly strike.

To this end, Virel specially selected the most elite group of his men to travel with him today.

Aside from a few backbone veterans from his original tavern, the rest were those he had recently trained, recommended by various bosses as the best.

Additionally, they were equipped with the first batch of mass-produced Wenster typewriters.

Gripping the sturdy handle of the Wenster typewriter, Virel’s heart felt much more at ease.

As men age, the only thing left to trust is the gun in hand. (Note 1)

Standing by the window after finishing his last cigarette, Virel adjusted his coat, making the entire collar stand up.

Wenster was getting colder, winter was approaching.

He wondered how many more winters he would survive.

Putting on a bowler hat, Virel gave his firearms a final check before leaving the temporary office.

Outside, two trucks were already loaded with this batch of cargo. His carefully selected team stood by, all wearing trench coats and fedora hats, looking full of vigor.

"Let’s set off. It’s raining heavily outside; remember to bring umbrellas to prevent rain from entering during inspection."

Making the final arrangements, Virel quickly boarded a sedan.

Five minutes later, the vehicles gradually drove out of the factory.

Due to the rain, the speed wasn’t too fast, so their movement was noticed by someone.

In the pouring rain, a car was distantly tailing the whole convoy.

Despite the heavy rain blocking the road, the car followed steadily, closely tailing them.

It’s not for any other reason than that the driver was a skilled agent picked from the Security Office’s special operations department.

Tracking in this rainy weather was as easy as pie.

There were three people in the car.

Besides the driver and person in the passenger seat, there was another person in the back seat.

This person was none other than Lewis, who had been lying low for days.

Lewis could no longer tolerate it.

He had to do something.

Fortunately, the opportunity finally came.

In the preliminary intelligence network they established, they learned that today, Ethan was going to ship a large batch of goods.

This batch involved Sandro and several of Wenster’s big shots; if something went wrong with this batch,

Ethan would be in big trouble.

At the same time, the reputation and prestige of the Prohibition Agents would instantly be elevated.

This is the batch.

On receiving the order, Lewis was so excited he couldn’t describe it, using his newly attached right hand to directly smash the table.

Yes, his right hand was reattached.

Though, it wasn’t a real right hand, it was an alchemical construct.

This was a good piece Marvin got for him.

A second-grade alchemical construct, possessing the qualities of being hard to damage and bonding with flesh.

With this prosthetic, it’s as if his right hand was reborn, making it exceptionally dexterous.

Marvin truly went above and beyond for him, not only saving him but also reattaching his hand, and appointing him as the captain of the first squad.

But Lewis knew very well why this was so.

Firstly, he’d been mingling in Wenster for years, had some connections, and understood its intricacies well.

Secondly, he was a True Name bearer.

A True Name bearer wasn’t run-of-the-mill; even in the elite-studded Security Office special operations department, not everyone was a True Name bearer.

Among those Marvin brought, only two were True Name bearers; the rest were merely highly capable ordinary people.

Sitting in the back seat, closing his eyes and resting, Lewis only felt the new hand growing warmer, hotter, almost ready to ignite.

Ethan, just wait, I’ll make you feel my pain!

——————

The convoy transporting the illegal alcohol smoothly reached the delivery location.

Today’s heavy rain, though impairing visibility somewhat, provided a natural shield; the countryside was nearly empty.

After a while, the buyer’s convoy also arrived.

This time, the buyer was a fat man named Sindore from Itasca City.

Although Itasca City wasn’t as large as Wenster, Sindore held a monopoly, so if this deal was struck, establishing friendship would pave the way for a great future distribution route.

Sindore also valued this transaction, sending his most capable lieutenant, Big Zola, to connect.

As soon as Virel got out of the car, he saw Big Zola’s frame which almost couldn’t fit in the vehicle.

"Hey, Virel, it’s you, didn’t expect that, how many years has it been since we last met, you old bones still can’t be put down."

Big Zola, unafraid of the rain, nonchalantly walked through the downpour to greet Virel.

Virel indeed had dealings with Big Zola, as they both mingled in the underworld, inevitable acquaintances, although Big Zola was a rising star.

"Just lucky." Virel walked over to shake his hand, then said, "Let’s check the goods, if all is well, we exchange."

Big Zola nodded, led by Virel, they went behind a truck, lifted the tarpaulin, and Virel casually handed him a bottle of wine.

He opened it, tasted a sip, and nodded: "Not bad, much better than what we make ourselves, no wonder the boss wants to buy your wine, it’s a deal."

He had just uttered the word ’deal’ when a sudden gunshot burst through the air.

One of his lookouts immediately fell down.

This made him draw his gun instantly, shouting loudly, "Damn it, are you trying to double-cross us?!"

Note 1: Tribute to Jiangnan.