"Travis, give it a rest, you can't scare me with your tricks anymore."

Trafford said with some disdain and then found a dimly lit corner, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

In fact, he was really scared at first.

"Haha, alright, Trafford, I forgot about that."

The bearded cowboy known as Travis casually patted the man whose head had been blown open, then picked up a drink mixed with blood and fire.

"Get up, buddy, and... let's toast to the blazing sun and the souls departed!"

Then, he gulped down the drink.

The man with a blown-open head raised his head, casually extracted the bullet lodged in his skull, and without a sound, the terrifying gap in his head healed.

If you happened to be sitting opposite this man, you'd see a face almost identical to Travis's, only without a beard, making him look younger.

"Tell me, our dear spy visiting this little shabby bar, what business do you have here?"

Travis had poured himself another drink and pulled out a chair, sitting opposite Trafford.

"South District."

Trafford expressionlessly spat out a word.

Travis raised an eyebrow and exaggeratedly said wow.

"What does it have to do with me? We're Western outlaws."

"Come on, Travis, listen, old man, don't play dumb in front of me, you swallowed quite a bit of territory in the South District these years, and you know why I'm here tonight, let's be honest with each other, don't *** waste time!"

Trafford was furious.

Travis shrugged and said, "Alright, alright, Lord Trafford, I've just recently become fascinated with opera, I thought big shots like you love that style. Anyway, what can I do for you?"

"Right now, the Mafia in South District has no power left, it's a great time for you to advance."

Trafford tried to suppress his anger; he needed the man in front of him, he needed that position.

"Trafford, you're not being truthful."

Travis shook his head repeatedly, with a very regretful expression.

"I know South District better than you do, the boys from the Martinos aren't easy to handle, even Luca is not their match, I don't want Throat-Cutter Neil to sever my poor neck."

"Vasini will soon die, South District will be in chaos, if you don't enter now, you won't have another chance, do you want to be stuck here forever? Good things always require a bit of blood on your hands, isn't that the rule of the West?"

Trafford had completely calmed down, every word carried a provocative tone.

Travis fell silent.

He pulled out the previously blown head revolver and started spinning the chamber, letting it spin freely.

The chamber spun for a long time.

Then, he swiftly clicked it back into place.

"Alright, Trafford, deal, you're as persuasive as ever."

He raised his glass again and drank the contents dry.

——————————

Time was passing.

Ethan's personal auction was fast approaching.

Because of Ethan's sensational toilet, and because Jackson was willing to spend on publicity.

Of course, most notably, Princess Aine Beize suddenly mentioned Ethan publicly, saying Ethan was her favorite artist, his auction was about to start, she decided to personally attend.

Don't underestimate these comments.

Princess Aine Beize is not just the darling of the royal family, but also of the Royal Capital; if the Royal Capital is a crown encrusted with diamonds, then Aine Beize is undoubtedly its brightest gem.

Everyone loves Ain.

This is not just a hollow statement.

There was once a major survey in the Royal Capital, and the results showed that people love Ain the most, second only to her father, Lucian II.

With the princess's guidance, everyone knew what the new hot topic was.

So, journalists flocked in again.

This time, Ethan didn't turn them away.

Instead, he talked about the auction.

"...Ladies and gentlemen, I know you think I'm holding an auction for money, yes, I am a common person too, seeking money is natural, but at the same time, I hope to do something with it, just like I did for Saint Kuanti back home."

Ethan publicly announced that he would establish a foundation specifically to help the suffering and helpless, and the initial funds would be used to aid the people of Moerma.

These words were immediately published in the papers.

Moerma is currently a hot topic, ever since the homestead act was issued, everyone is watching the situation there.

Coupled with Princess Aine Beize's leading role in public welfare, countless people participated.

Therefore, people seemed to understand why Ethan was so favored by the princess, he is enthusiastic about charity, caring for those in distress.

In no time, Ethan once again became the hottest topic in the Royal Capital.

Johnny Blackbird, who had barely spread his wings, was suppressed once again.

These days, Ethan indeed was busy, aside from handling journalists, he also had progress on the radio industry he mentioned with Herlosh last time.

Rumor has it, a fledgling but promising radio company has expressed interest in accepting Ethan's offer.

In addition, there's news from the arms deal he discussed with Carlos on the pier.

Although Shark Jensen can be somewhat harsh and aggressive, once truly intimidated, he's not that bad; at least he gets things done, he's already contacted several buyers to check the goods and negotiate business.

The goods are no problem, he came by boat this time, bringing a batch of the latest tuned Wenster typewriters, currently hidden safely at the Sea God Sect's dock.

Because the Sea God Sect holds absolute authority at the dock, no one wants to risk offending the Sea God at sea.

Follow-up transportation is no issue; Carlos will be responsible for liaising with Wenster, and both bootleg liquor and arms will be delivered continuously.

Having dealt with another round of journalists, Ethan had just reached the washroom and washed his face when he heard Vasini's prayer.

Yet somehow, whether it was an illusion or not, Ethan felt his abilities seemed to be growing stronger with each connection to Vasini; at least even with such a distance, he could hear Vasini's voice clearly, far clearer than the first time.

"Great Dark Savior, the mightiest presence, danger still lurks around us, we need your messenger's salvation, please bestow your blessing upon us!"

Vasini was desperate, after all, several days had passed, and his crisis remained unresolved.

However, it's almost here.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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