Chapter 852: The End (Part 2) (Patreon)

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The morning after a brisk autumn wind had blown through, a cold rain arrived, seeping through the cracks in the window frame. However, the chill was soon dispelled by the warmth inside the room.

Jason emerged from his soft and comfortable bed, his hand raking through his disheveled hair that resembled a bird's nest. He stood by the edge of the bed, stretched lazily, and opened the window.

As the cold air rushed in, he shivered for a moment and quickly closed the window a bit. Slipping into his slippers, he opened the door without looking back and headed towards the communal bathroom at the end of the hallway.

The communal bathroom was roughly the size of two bedrooms, with four rows of faucets in the middle and more mounted on the walls. At this moment, it was bustling with children. Some were washing their faces, some were wiping their faces after washing, and others were filling their cups with hot water.

Jason yawned, noticing that a faucet had just become available. He walked over, turned it on, and splashed his face with cold water twice. Then, he went to the cabinet at the end of the bathroom, retrieved his toothbrush and toothpaste, and began to freshen up.

Two children nearby were brushing their teeth with foam-covered mouths, playfully blowing bubbles at each other. Most of them were curious about the whole toothbrushing process, especially because the toothpaste provided by the Wayfarer's Inn foamed up so much that they could easily pass for Santa Claus after brushing.

After finishing his morning routine, Jason returned to his room to change clothes and then made his way to the Wayfarer's Inn office. Everything seemed to be in order there.

The children flowed through the building like fish swimming through coral and seaweed. The strong winds outside had no effect on them, and some were even sweating from running around.

The rosy cheeks and hopeful eyes they had now were something that had never been seen before.

After a while, Jason took the younger children to the daycare center, where a few older girls would take care of them. Then, he headed downstairs to the school to supervise the other children as they studied.

Once he finished his tasks inside the building, he left on his bicycle, heading towards the Iceberg Lounge.

As the wind chime by the door jingled, a waiter promptly approached and escorted Jason to the office upstairs in the restaurant.

Inside the office, besides Copperpot, there were several other children, all of whom were the street urchins Copperpot had rescued earlier.

Though they were still quite thin and fragile-looking, their complexion and overall health had improved noticeably. They were currently engaged in a hushed conversation.

Copperpot and Jason led them outside, and Jason waved his hand, saying, "Come with me. We have two vacant rooms in Phase Two that we've upgraded for you. You can stay there for now until your current place is renovated..."

The children were a bit apprehensive, but Copperpot was the first to get into the car. Clearly, they had a great deal of trust in their leader, so they followed suit, shoving each other to squeeze into the vehicle.

After dropping the children off at the Wayfarer's Inn, Copperpot didn't get into the car and instead planned to take a stroll around the East District.

Passing the Phase One and Phase Two buildings, he reached the Phase Three and Phase Four construction sites. By now, the buildings were nearly halfway completed, and further ahead was the Phase Five and Phase Six project, not far from the Iceberg Lounge.

One construction site after another sprouted from the ground like spring shoots, towering high-rise buildings sprung up from the flat ground, an awe-inspiring sight like no other.

Copperpot may not have been well-read, but he could still sense the grandeur of this era's changes. The roaring of colossal machines felt like the rolling wheels of history, and the ever-taller structures resembled humanity's relentless climb towards progress.

Returning to the Iceberg Lounge, he drove alone to the North District, which appeared calm compared to the construction-filled East District, almost eerily so.

He drove slowly, allowing Copperpot to see through the car window that many Twelve Families' leaders were inside their manors, engrossed in admiring the new acquisitions they had just obtained.

Beautiful paintings, intricate sculptures, and antique pieces steeped in history; yet, they stood on a bridge gazing at the scenery, unaware that they were being watched from above.

Copperpot felt that these leaders of the Twelve Families were like antiques from a bygone era, exuding a hazy, yellowed air from the previous century, exquisite yet fragile.

The strongest fortifications of the previous century were crumbling in the clamor of the new era's machinery. If they could awaken to the changing times early enough, perhaps they could secure a place in the new era. However, if they were unwilling to adapt, then museums might become their ultimate resting place.

The car stopped in front of Falcone Manor, and as Copperpot stepped out of the car, he unconsciously adjusted his tie and shook off the dust from his shoes. After a momentary pause, he shook his head, and with determined strides, entered the manor.

In the reception room, he met Alberto, and Copperpot approached him, shaking his hand. "I heard you're engaged? Congratulations, but I didn't catch which family the bride-to-be is from..."

Alberto shook his head and replied, "No, she's not from Gotham. She's a girl Evans met while rehearsing a play, from Metropolis. They fell in love, and even Godfather didn't object."

Copperpot raised an eyebrow, seemingly puzzled by the last statement. Alberto explained, "I know there are rumors that Godfather rose to power through his wife's family connections, but in reality, my mother wasn't a local Gothamite, nor did she come from any prestigious clan. She was just the youngest daughter of a fisherman from a seaside town."

"You and your brother... I mean, your condition... Well, do you have any objections?" Copperpot asked delicately, referring to Alberto and Evans' dissociative identity disorder.

Alberto shook his head and said, "I can't understand love, nor do I intend to pursue any true love. I hope Falcone Family can stand in a broader world, surpassing the norms and rules of Gotham, to achieve true glory."

"When is the engagement ceremony?" Copperpot inquired.

"It's in a week, and why not have it at the Iceberg Lounge? It'll be beneficial for your business as all of Gotham's elite will gather there," Alberto suggested.

However, Copperpot shook his head and replied, "I'm not particularly interested in dealing with the Twelve Families right now. They're all about the Renaissance and Impressionism. Do they even remember they're a gang family?"

Alberto chuckled and said, "People are like that. Once they've amassed wealth through violence and bloodshed, they desperately try to distance themselves from their origins, using various means to prove their nobility."

"You needn't be bothered by them. Perhaps you won't see many of the Majority among them anymore. Wayne won't wait too long," Alberto added, gazing out the window at the falling red leaves, blanketing the surroundings of the Iceberg Lounge like a celebration for the couple.

One by one, polished leather shoes stepped onto the red carpet, and leaders in tailored suits entered the dazzling hall.

Laughter, well-wishes, and music filled the air, while vibrant poppies, golden chandeliers, and deep-hued curtains created a kaleidoscope of colors.

"...My students, a young man full of sincerity, integrity, and determination, and a beautiful, graceful, and virtuous young lady, are making a lifelong commitment to each other today..."

"As Mr. Falcone's teacher, I am deeply gratified. Such an outstanding student, a beloved junior, a child favored by God, a man of faith and virtue, deserves unwavering love..."

At the front of the hall, Schiller glanced at Evans, then at the future Mrs. Falcone, before turning his gaze to Godfather standing behind Evans. It was the first time Old Godfather had stood behind someone, but he appeared calm, with a touch of nostalgia in his expression.

Next, Schiller began to pray, saying, "I am here by the guidance of a merciful Father to witness a couple making their vows. St. Peter once said..."

With somewhat obscure prayers, Evans turned to face the camera, holding hands with his fiancée.

Copperpot, Bruce, Dick, Jason, and many of Evans' classmates approached, forming rows.

With a "click" of the camera and applause from the attendees, the photos were printed and landed on a brown table.

A hand in black leather gloves gently traced the surface of the photos. The person set aside their violin case, removed their felt hat, and sat in a train compartment.

As the distant train whistle sounded, white smoke rose from a lit cigarette, and the red train car passed through valleys.

"Excuse me, sir, would you like a cigarette?" A train attendant knocked on the compartment door. The door slowly opened, revealing an elderly face with white hair, a face marked by age yet commanding respect.

The attendant noticed the cigar box on his table and offered an apologetic smile, preparing to leave. However, the old man stopped him, handed him a roll of bills, and in Italian asked, "When will we reach the next station?"

"Sir, if you mean the next stop, it's about ten minutes away."

The attendant left, and at the next station, another person entered the compartment.

Seeing the attire of the old man across from him, the newcomer's fingertips trembled slightly. He removed his hat, placed it over his chest, and said, "Sir, may I sit here?"

"Of course."

The man opposite him noted that the old man's Italian always had a lingering, trailing tone, reminiscent of people from a bygone era.

"Do you know when we'll reach the next station?" he asked in classical Italian, resonating in the compartment. The man across from him replied, "It'll be about twenty minutes, or perhaps several hours if it's the final stop..."

"No relationship, as long as we get there."

Silence filled the compartment, and the man opposite him noticed the violin case beneath the table, his fingers tightening.

"Relax, son. May God bless you."

The old man across from him lit a cigar and mumbled unclearly.

He turned his head to look out the window at the scenery reminiscent of an Impressionist oil painting, rapidly retreating alongside the train.

The soft clinking of compartment doors, the distant murmurs from outside, the mixed scent of leather and cigars inside the compartment, the occasional ringing of a bell, and the attendant's cheerful greetings – everything felt just like his youth.

He thought to himself that the legendary story of the past four decades had finally come to a close. Amidst the swirling cigar smoke, he saw the tranquil shores, fishing boats in the sunset, and the beautiful village girls of Sicily, as he had often told the story of them.

[Read at www.patreon.com/shanefreak, and thanks for the invaluable support!]

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 853: The Enchantment of Human Space Exploration (Part 1)