Chapter Five: Blood Debt Repaid in Blood

Before going in, I need to ask you one last question, Anya.

What is it?

If I put on this emblem, does that mean I am already the head of the Poletta family?

Yes.

Then no matter what order I give, will you obey it?

Yes.

Good.

That was the last question Ethan asked before entering.

So after he called out Joanna’s name, he gave Anya his first command without the slightest hesitation.

Fire.

The moment Anya heard the order, she did not hesitate in the least. With fluid, practiced motion, she drew her gun and fired.

Caught off guard by the sudden shot, the other three in the meeting room were visibly startled.

But as the target of that shot, Joanna, though taken by surprise, did not panic. He remained utterly composed.

Even when the bullet was almost upon him.

For in his eyes, that shot posed no threat at all. All he had to do was use his power, and he could easily evade it.

He could even strike back.

A cruel smile had already curved his lips. He did not know where this Poletta brat had found the nerve, or the instinct, to strike first.

But it gave him the perfect reason and excuse.

A foolish little wretch, truly courting death.

He braced both hands on the wooden conference table before him and was about to unleash his power, only to realize with sudden shock that the strength of his true name, which had always flowed through his body like blood, had vanished without a trace, as though its signal had been cut off.

The bullet was right before his eyes.

His pupils widened, and relying on years of experience from walking the line between life and death, he forced himself to evade the shot.

But there was more than one bullet.

At the very instant Anya fired, Ethan also drew his gun and shot.

After asking Anya that question, he had asked her for a gun.

Naturally, he had never used one before. His former self had not either. His knowledge and skill with firearms came from the authority of the Name.

The breeder and guardian of violence.

The moment he took the gun in hand, he understood at once how to use it.

Magnan 647, the latest masterpiece from the Magnan Company.

Even the gun’s name entered Ethan’s mind of its own accord.

So the shot was steady and precise, calculated to the exact direction of Joanna’s evasion.

The large-caliber bullet tore straight through Joanna’s forehead, blossoming into a flower of flesh and blood in his skull. Red and white spray burst outward in a ghastly shower. Its power more than justified the company’s boastful name for it: a hand cannon.

Only when those fluids struck the floor with a sharp, unmistakable impact did Frederick and Emilio finally react.

Frederick, completely forgetting about dignity, dove under the table, giving Ethan no chance for a second shot, while Emilio rose to his feet and slammed the contract in his hand hard onto the conference table.

“Ethan of the Poletta family, are you trying to tear up the ceasefire agreement?”

He held back his anger, and not only because of the shot Ethan had fired, but because on the contract he had just received, where the signature should have been, there was no name belonging to Ethan at all. Instead, it clearly read: No.

“As you can see, there is no need for a ceasefire anymore. The one who started the war is dead.”

Ethan no longer intended to keep firing.

On one hand, Frederick had reacted quickly and would not give him the chance.

On the other hand, he could sense an unknown power surging within Emilio.

He certainly had no intention of going to war with Sandro.

“Who would have thought that, in the end, you would be the one to inherit the name of Poletta?”

Emilio had already noticed the emblem Ethan wore on the ring finger of his left hand, yet his words carried a deeper meaning.

“Yes, who could have imagined it?”

Ethan smiled.

While the two were speaking, heavy footsteps had already erupted outside the meeting room, and a dense malice was gathering.

Clearly, Joanna had left many men in the hotel as well. Hearing the gunfire, they were on their way.

If they stayed any longer, things would become troublesome.

They could only kill Frederick another time.

Fortunately, Joanna was already dead.

“Please convey my greetings to the honored Lord Sandro. Once I have purged the traitors from my family, I will certainly come in person to express my thanks.”

With that, Ethan led Anya toward a shadowed window off to one side. While resting earlier with his eyes closed, he had already studied the terrain. This was the escape route he had planned.

Outside the window lay the hotel garden, barren and lifeless in the cold of autumn and winter. Farther beyond stretched the vast North Sea, where the sound of the tide could already be faintly heard.

The meeting room was on the second floor. With his current physical condition, jumping would pose no problem at all.

He turned and looked once more at Emilio, who still gave no sign of trying to stop him.

In truth, Ethan had been guarding against him the entire time. Now it seemed the other man was wary of him as well.

Was it because he had killed Joanna so easily, with almost no hesitation at all?

“Farewell, Mr. Emilio. Forgive me for staining this beautiful night with blood.”

As he spoke, he leapt down and landed lightly on the frozen, hard ground.

Anya followed, and Ethan caught her in his arms.

She was unexpectedly light, lying in his embrace like a bundle of velvet.

Looking at Anya’s exquisitely delicate features, Ethan did not know whether it was the brilliance of the moon that night, or the strange power still surging within him after the killing, but his eyes faintly glowed with a dark violet sheen. He could not help lowering his head and kissing the girl’s lips.

Anya’s expression finally changed. Her cheeks flushed red, her breathing quickened, and she hurriedly pulled away. Only after taking a deep breath did she force herself to calm down and say, “Young master, I’ll take you to the dock now. The ship is waiting. We can leave Winterburg and head to the royal capital at the fastest speed.”

“No, no, no, Anya. I’ve changed my mind. I’ve already changed my mind. I’m not going back to the royal capital.”

Ethan shook his head. He felt as though he were soaring on clouds, as if some indescribable force were surging through his body, making him feel almost as though he were flying. He murmured, “Blood debt must be paid in blood.”

The final word had barely left his lips when he suddenly raised his hand and fired, striking a head that had just appeared from an upper window.

It was one of Joanna’s men.

“They’re here!”

They had been discovered.

Ethan immediately took Anya and rushed toward the hotel entrance.

Joanna’s men did not react quickly enough, so by the time Ethan and Anya were back in the car, no one had caught up to them yet.

As for the men Joanna had stationed outside, they had no idea what had happened inside the hotel. They might still have been hesitating over whether to come in.

By then, Anya had already driven the Claus Longspear, and it shot forward at once like an escaped wild horse.

Watching the city streets flash by outside the window, Ethan felt faintly tipsy, as though he were drunk.