Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 464: Section 213: Before the Harvest Festival (Part 2)_3

Chapter 464: Section 213: Before the Harvest Festival (Part 2)_3

"It’s good that mortals have courage," Malin squinted, wondering about a problem—this guy, he surely wouldn’t be fond of everything associated with someone, right?

Well, he probably wouldn’t. This kind of straight-as-an-arrow man would always have that forever unattainable figure in his heart, even unto death.

Put nicely, this is love.

Put unkindly, this is stupidity.

As he thought this, Malin noticed that clouds were beginning to form in the sky... Ah, was it going to rain, or perhaps it was snow that was coming.

The girls, noticing the weather change, hastened their pace.

"Right, what about Rewo."

"Come play at our house," Maya and Matilda said in unison.

Malin was silent for a moment, then feeling the rain, he raised his umbrella and opened it, and the girls immediately gathered around.

Then after a while, the rain turned to snow, and then to sleet. Feeling the drop in temperature, Malin noticed something coiled around Mana’s branches.

He took it discreetly.

This... seemed to be a support fastener for a convertible’s rain canopy?

Malin looked around warily and eventually tossed it into an alley.

Poor Mr. Casaman, I hope your car doesn’t have to go back for major repairs.

......

Colin shook his head as he saw the little apprentices driven back by the rain and snow: "This goddamn weather."

"Autumn is influenced by the monsoon, which brings both rain and snow; you have forgotten that we once had a Harvest Festival with a whole week of snow," Margaret said, pushing a cart full of dry towels toward him.

"Of course I remember, we wrote homework for a whole week; everyone nearly went crazy." Colin remarked on how time flies, as he took a towel from the older apprentices and began to dry the heads of the freshmen.

As for the little girls, they were naturally left to the care of the sisters at the Church.

After drying off one of the children, Colin heard the sound of a motorcycle braking. He turned his head just in time to see the soaked tutor Sayer and a completely clean young girl walking in.

"Hey, Colin, this is the new apprentice, my brother’s eldest granddaughter." After saying this, the man gave a tremendous sneeze: "Damn it, my canopy support fastener is missing. I’ll go and deal with it first—Margaret, dear, my grandniece is in your care."

"Hello, I’m Elsa Casaman." The young girl approached Margaret and lifted her skirt.

"I am Margaret, dear sister, welcome to Carterburg—come help me out."

"No problem, Sister Margaret," the girl said with a smile and walked over.

"Wow, Tutor Colin, did you see that Mr. Casaman has such an adorable grandniece; just how old is his brother?" an upperclassman whispered to Colin.

"You ask me, whom should I ask?" Colin declared helplessly.

And an upperclassman, who was participating in the competition, joined the conversation: "I heard that Tutor Casaman has several brothers; he is the youngest child in his generation."

"She’s so cute; I think I’m in love already." A youngster eagerly joined the conversation.

Colin chuckled—good to see the young ones so full of energy: "Then you’ll have to work hard; believe me, you’ll have competitors lined up from the Church’s doorstep all the way to the third city wall."

......

Standing under the eaves, Donald took a briefcase from the passing guild member, then turned and pushed open the door to the inn.

Approaching the innkeeper’s counter, and seeing the young proprietor, he smiled: "Got any rooms left?"

"Certainly, are you here for the Harvest Festival?" the young proprietor asked with a smile.

"Yes, I lived here for five years when I was little; the Harvest Festival was my happiest time. Now I’m back to take a look and, coincidentally, negotiate a business deal." He took out his wallet, looking at the proprietor: "I’ll need a room for ten days."

The young proprietor paused, looked up at Donald for a while, then showed a sincerely warm smile: "Comrade, welcome back."

"I’m back, comrade." Donald reached out, clenching hands tightly with the young man.

The young proprietor went to the door, put up the ’No Vacancies’ sign, then took Donald to the top floor. He watched Donald open his suitcase and take out pieces to assemble.

"Until now, I still haven’t found those traitors from the Arcane Fist."

"No, the organization has given up on their mission; they’re believed to be connected to Mr. Malin, and any target related to Mr. Malin will be abandoned, so you shouldn’t look for them either. Remember that." Donald shook his head: "By the way, what’s Mr. Casaman’s recent itinerary like?"

"He strolls around the street at the other end of the square every day at four in the afternoon; you can see him clearly from here. To avoid exposing this location, you’ll need to be on the rooftop, and I’ve prepared a camouflage net for you,"

"Good, will he be there tomorrow?"

"Not necessarily, usually he appears every weekday from Monday to Friday, but as tomorrow is the weekend, I’ve observed for seven weeks; he showed up three times."

"A fifty percent chance, then fate will decide whether he will be delivered into our hands...but in any case, his death is certain."

"I think so too." The young man nodded vigorously: "Can’t close the shop door for too long; I must go down. What would you like for dinner?"

"Get me something people from the Eastern Kingdom like. To be honest, I’ve never tried it," Donald said offhand.

"Okay then." The young man stood up to leave, closing the door behind him.

And Donald assembled the parts he held into a long-barreled firearm.

Taking out bullets from a box, he kissed one, fulfilling an ancient oath.

May the Lord grant me a keen eye, to aid me in striking down my enemy.