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The sun had leapt into the sky above Dulin. A mail carriage drove through the city in the morning mist. A warm spring breeze started blowing in the city, people can even see the ripples of the dirty water mixed with oil in the drains. The carriages started increasing on the streets. One by one, they squeaked when passing by the garden fence. In the fresh air of springtime, the wooden axles of carriages screeched louder than usual. Some of them carried goods, and some others carried nobles.

On the other side of the fence, pedestrians were going about their businesses. There were some children who successfully stole a bread from the bakery, and scampered away on their soot-stained feet. Men and women squeezed with each other at the public carriage stops, some of them having to wait a whole morning just to get a seat. People were complaining about commodity prices, about the situation with prostitutes that was becoming rampant, about the noble carriages that crushed their flower beds. And then of course, some of them don't complain, they only lose their tempers, sons to fathers, wives to husbands. A thuggish man tugged at a patrol's horse asking for money to buy alcohol, to which the patrol responded with a lash across his back with a whip as the spectators sniggered.

Finally, the sun found its place in the middle of the sky, and gentlemen, dames, and damsels started coming out for their daily activities. A gentleman classily held onto his cane and flung a brass Ti coin at a beggar. Also immediately, other beggars started making their way to the gentleman, who just happened to turn toward the patrol guards. The ladies would, of course, stayed away from these dangerous vagrants. They held onto their parasols with their arms hooked to each other, walking in a pace that's neither rushing nor stalling. Whenever a knight crossed paths with them, the maidens would let down the veils attached to their hats in shyly. Usually, the knights would slow their horses down and greet them with utmost modesty. Of course, some of the knights don't do that, and it's still not considered inappropriate.

The dames didn't care about these frivolous customs, they were already past the age of fantasy. No matter how much respect these ladies said they had at the virtues and power these men had, they always thought them to be a bit of a poor nitwit. Of course, if her man could enter the Hamilton Palace without a problem, or if they were paid several hundred Golden Tis yearly in an important department, the ladies would say, "Look at my poor man, for this contemptibly small salary, he had sold his soul to His Majesty!" and the rest of the ladies would offer their sympathy before continuing to compare whose husband was more idiotic.

Oscar opened his eyes to a splitting headache, and thought his head was not his own. He had found a treasure the previous day, and so he dragged Torry through four midnight clubs consecutively. The aftermath? Obviously, it's the sharp stench of the spew on the pillow beside his hand. Oscar rolled over in disgust.

When he found his eyes being pierced by a light, however, his mood took a turn for the better. Ecstatically, he grabbed the necklace on his night stand.

"That's right! It's you, my darling!" Oscar examined and then kissed the sculpture of the God of Light on the necklace.

The door opened, Paul entered. He was promptly attacked by the foul odor permeated in the room, making him flinch.

"Good gracious, Oscar! Whose body did you hide in here? Why does it smell like rotten corpse in the room?"

Oscar covered his 'masterpiece' with his blanket, and swung the necklace toward Paul. "Keep it safe, we'll need it in a little while."

Paul kept the necklace into a delicate wooden box. "You should get dressed. Thomas waited a whole morning for you."

Oscar nodded. "I need to thank him! Oh, right! What time is it now?"

Paul opened the bathroom door for Oscar, "It's time for lunch!"

Unfortunately, the warm bathwater lulled Oscar into a nap. When he finally got out of his bedroom fully dressed, Thomas had already left. As the big boss of The Lair, he had endless dirty businesses to tend to daily, there's no time for him to sit around doing nothing.

"What time is it now?" Oscar combed his slightly unkempt hair.

Helpless, Paul opened his palm, "It's tea time."

There were several streets in Dulin city that were named with numbers, all in the vicinity of the Road of Emperors connecting the Victory Square to the high society living area. Prince O'Neil's carriage drove into one the 5th Street, one of the famous streets in the Embassy District that houses all the embassies of Westland within several kilometers.

There wasn't much difference between the 5th Street and the other streets in the district, with their own patrol teams. The street was filled with foreigners. It's like a quiet suburban district here, there were luscious grass fields, trees neatly planted as if they were walls, as well as vines that climbed up the real walls. Among the rows and rows of flower bushes, clean courtyards were littered with laughter of the women and children. It was as calm as a millpond.

After some walking down that path, gates appeared one after another with insignias of each nations. Guards with colored uniforms stood in front of their own embassy. According to the rule of the Church, once a person entered an embassy, he shall be considered to be in the nation of the embassy. Hidden beneath the tall plane trees were buildings of different styles. There were the Faran Byoric buildings, the Italian Gothic architecture, the Slovenian Polumdan style, and more. As a whole, it is a good place to observe the different styles of buildings of different nations.

Oscar's carriage stopped in front of the Italian embassy, stopped by the guards. It was apparent that the knight didn't trust the identity of the carriage owner, so he made the carriage as well as everyone it was carrying wait outside.

"Why didn't you identify yourself?" Torry asked with his red eyes.

"I believe the Prince whatshisname would have sent someone to lookout for this place! I don't want him to have that held against me."

"Oh, so that's why!" Torry turned his head on one side.

"Be a little more cheery, can't you? Don't look like a dead person all day long!" Oscar ranted at his friend.

"Okay…" Torry turned his head to the other side, he was in no mood to entertain the Prince at the moment.

After a short while, Oscar's carriage finally passed the gate. Through the glass window, Oscar realize the Italian Embassy looked like one of those richly decorated clubhouses, Sabac Manor to be specific. Its main building was a three-storied brick house. In front of it were decorations of all manners like the fountain, flower patches, and hedges. With a glance, the building didn't seem to have any statues for its decor. Oscar was a little confused. This was not the Italian style he knew. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the bricks were full of patterns, whole walls were used as a mural to tell a story. In other words, it was like a huge jigsaw puzzle. This was a masterpiece! It didn't only require the bricks to be precisely burnt, the builders also had to make sure every brick was in its place before laying them.

There was only one servant to greet Oscar, who slipped into the building quickly, leaving no chance for anyone to be curious about his arrival.

Up two flights of stairs, and another corridor, Oscar and Paul were invited into a quiet meeting room. The Italian ambassador greeted him with respect, Oscar remembered him, this man had gifted him something valuable on behalf of the Italian King two years ago.

"Your Imperial Highness, I have ordered this room to be cleared. If you don't mind me asking, is this… because of something confidential?"

Oscar handed over the wooden box, "It's because of this."

The Italian ambassador took the box, and yelped in surprise as he opened the box. "Oh my God of Light! Finally found you!"

"Hey! Hey!" Oscar slapped the ambassador's shoulder in discontent. "I found it!"

"Oh! Of course! Of course you found it!" The ambassador put on a smile. This prince of Titan was not someone normal. Aside from his family on his mother's side, even his hometown at Narcissus County, with just two fronts, it would flip Italia Kingdom upside down.

"Don't you have to check for authenticity?" Oscar was a little surprised, the ambassador had already kept the necklace.

"There's no need, Your Highness! I have been seeing this necklace in my dreams, and not forgetting Her Highness Princess Caro Arsia. My King and Queen had almost torn my ears off when they heard the necklace was in Titan! You saved my life! Your Highness, you've saved Her Highness once before, didn't you? That's makes it twice! Princess Roya had praised how noble you are during the Swan Lake incident!"

Oscar was very satisfied with what he had heard. "Mister ambassador, there's one thing I need to ask you to do."

"Of course, just say the word, Your Highness!"

"I have returned the necklace to you, so I hope it will be delivered to Princess Caro Arsia without any damage to the necklace."

"Of course! I will send it with the safest, fastest way I know! Don't worry!"

"One more thing, this might be a little weird, but you have to promise me."

"Your Highness, you are most humble!"

"Fine then! I want to ask you to only report this to His Majesty the King, Her Highness the Empress and Princess Caro Arsia. I don't want more people to find out that I recovered the necklace."

"Why?" The ambassador was confused. "This is something worthy of praise isn't it? My King will send a formal thanks…"

"No! Really! It's because… it's hard to explain, but can you ask Princess Roya for me about when she met Prince Kristen of Faran? Princess Caro Arsia is smart, she'll know what I mean."

Thoroughly confused, the Italian ambassador still nodded to signify his understanding.

The rest of the time was spent in boring small talks and worthless praises. Oscar devoured a few rich Italian snacks, and inhaled two cappuccino laced with butter, chocolate, and cinnamon powder. Just as he was about to ask for a seafood salad and a cuttlefish macaroni, Paul couldn't take it anymore, because his lack of table manners was a complete disgrace to Titan. It was supposed to be tea time, but this idiot ordered a dinner-sized meal in front of the ambassador of Italia.

The unwilling Prince Oscar pushed a sleeping Torry aside when he mounted the carriage. Torry leaned against Paul, saliva dripping and all. Paul tried to push him to the other side of the carriage more than a few times, but the thuggish Torry kept his thug-like behavior even as he sleeps and kept falling back against Paul. The King of Assassins knew it was Oscar's little revenge, so he pressed against Torry's temple, leaving Torry in deep sleep and probably wouldn't wake up for a while.

The Prince only used a normal carriage, but his driver was still Wozakad, the former black belt warrior was not only quiet, he treated his driving as strictly as he did his daily life.

The driver knocked on the floor board thrice, both Oscar and Paul looked toward the road behind them, curious. "Is someone following us?"

Oscar thumped at the front board in response. "Lose them!"

The speed of the carriage rose abruptly as Oscar felt the carriage tremor. The clops of the horse were like raindrops in a storm, and pedestrians stared at the dust cloud raised by the carriage in amazement.

Within another turn, they would be able to lose their tail due to a crossroad. People at the crossroad halted and searched for the rumbling sounds in horror as Oscar neared it. A carriage charged from the east side, and at the same time, another carriage dashed in from the south.

Before anyone could let out a scream, the two carriages crossed paths with each other at the crossroad. Wokazad had noticed the other carriage as he turned into the crossroad, but the other carriage was even faster than he was. The experienced driver tugged at the reins suddenly, relying on inertia to steer the horse to avoid the collision.

The other driver was not as skilled, he couldn't stop the horse in time. As the horses were about to crash into each other, the other horse neighed loudly and stood on its hind legs, its strength pulled the fixed shaft of the carriage apart, throwing the car into the shop right beside it! Oscar hopped off his carriage, staring at the car wedged into the display window of the shop.

"Paul! Come look! We witnessed the headline of the Dulin Evening Express!"

Snowstorm ignored the Prince's exclamation and pulled up his sleeves. "You can choose to witness the commotion here, or you can choose to help me rescue the poor people."

Oscar heard some intermittent moans from within the destroyed shop. People around had started dragging the car out of its crash site before Oscar remembered he had to bear the consequence of this incident.

"Ola! Let's save them!"

Before they got to it, the crowd was parted from the inside as a youth with bloodied head stumbled outward. He saw Oscar's carriage which is parked diagonally on the sidewalk.

"Who's the owner of this carriage?"

Oscar came forward. Even though the man also had half the responsibility to the accident, it wasn't such a big deal apologizing to him, seeing the mess he was in.

"I am! I must apologi-"

The noble young man pushed Oscar aside and walked straight toward the carriage.

"No, I must apologize to you! I hereby expropriate your vehicle in the name of the Imperial Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Emergency Department. You can claim your vehicle tomorrow at the Imperial Ministry of Foreign Affairs!"

Oscar stopped the young man from boarding his carriage. "Don't you know who I am?"

The man wiped away his blood on his forehead, "You are?"

"O'Neil Andrew Morisette! Does that ring a bell?"

The nobleman rubbed his eyes, "Yes it does! Your Highness, even if you're a Prince, I still have to…"

"Stop! I'll give you a lift! Have you lost your mind after the crash?" Oscar gawked at the young man with a funny look, this was his first time seeing someone so austere.

After everyone boarded the carriage, the young officer was shocked by Torry who laid unconsciously inside.

"Don't worry, he's not dead." Oscar explained and glanced outside. There were still people rushing over to the crash site, but there was a black carriage stopped in an obscure corner on the other side of the street. Oscar clicked his tongue at it, he was still caught up by that guy! In the open window, Prince Kristen of Faran stared at Oscar's carriage as he passed.

"Can you tell me what this is?" Oscar turned his attention away from the car window, pointing at the blood-stained document the young nobleman clutched onto.

"Of course! You have the authorization to know about this!" The nobleman sighed in distress. "The old Deiss King had passed away last month suddenly, and his son who inherited the throne was very well-received by the military. The situation up north will have a huge shuffle soon!"

Oscar pondered for a while in silence. He did nothing except for examining the document.

Hamilton Palace opened its bulky gate to let a humble-looking carriage in. Passing nobles felt it's strange that a vehicle without a class would be let in. However, the next thing they saw was Prince O'Neil supported a bloodied Viscount Franz Lemus by the arm.

The nobles were even more curious. They surrounded Oscar and his company, asking if he needed help.

Being helpful can be a bad thing sometimes. Oscar navigated through the crowd, but as he entered the foyer, more and more people started gathering. Prince Oscar reckoned the poor sod from Foreign Affairs might not be able to take it much longer!

"Please! Make way! This fellow needs to have an audience with His Majesty, he has a very important news!"

As the Prince yells, the crowd slowly dispersed as people started to understand its importance. Several guards came out, and a colonel lead them to meet the Emperor. Several other people tried to keep the nobleman conscious.

A few side halls later, they saw the Emperor stood in the corridor. Alfa III didn't look too pleased. He liked liveliness, but he didn't like it when people create noise in his workplace. When he saw the youngest son of the Minister of Foreign Affairs with blood on his head, he finally couldn't take it.

"What is happening? Lemus Jr.! Did you have a fight or were you attacked?"

Oscar raised his arm helplessly. "Your Majesty, my carriage hit him!"

"Oscar? Good gracious! Why are you here in Dulin instead of studying in University Town? How did your carriage hit him?"

"Um…" Oscar touched his nose. "The reason I'm here… Your Majesty, to be honest, I wasn't so sure myself; as for Lemus Jr., it can be said that his carriage was speeding."

Still dazed, Viscount Franz Lemus returned to consciousness.

"Your Majesty! The carriage His Imperial Highness rode was also really fast!"

Oscar shot him a glare, but Franz changed the topic.

"Your Majesty, that doesn't matter, what matters is this!" Lemus Jr. handed over the stained document. "It's from my father, Minister of Foreign Affairs Marquis Dimitri Lemus, he sent this emergency document from the funeral of Deiss King."

Alfa III frowned and signalled the guards to block the crowd outside the meeting room.

The document was short, but the Emperor of Titan read it repeatedly for a few long minutes.

Finally, Alfa III folded the letter in half.

"Lemus Jr., go to Deiss. Go bring your father back. He mentioned in the letter… his physical health may not be able to make it home."

Franz lowered his head.

Oscar was speechless. No matter what, Minister of Foreign Affairs Marquis Dimitri Lemus had taken care of him before. Oscar placed his hand on Viscount Franz Lemus's shoulder, hoping it would give him some support.

"My father… did he say anything about the politics?" Franz took in Alfa III's concerned look and stared back.

"He only used a phrase." The Emperor rolled open the document once more. "Your Majesty, prepare for battle!"

Church's Year 793, 7th Day of 2nd Month, the Roulexberg Dynasty of Deiss lost its longest reigning King. The Kingdom announced the news to all the nations in Westland, as well as its newest heir of its throne.

Archer Ronnie Roulexberg was the Deiss King's name. He inherited the throne at a young age of twenty nine, and retired at his death at seventy two years old. The King didn't make a lot of missteps in his life, but at the same time, his contributions to the Kingdom was also lackluster. He was a typical Yaran, an advocate of valor and conquering lands, but cared little for the population and land growth. This happened only during his ambitious years, however.

Church's Year 772 11th Month, the Deiss Kingdom had the largest serfdom revolution in history, and with the meddling of Titan Empire, resulting in the ceding of two provinces. Coupled with the losses suffered during the siege against the Olliers Kingdom to the north, the Deiss King finally changed his stance and finally started executing a recuperation policy of twenty years.

However, their enemies would not let Deiss rest so easily. The Olliers started an invasion of their own during the weakened years of Deiss, they even managed to get to the capital of Deiss Kingdom, Borensberg. However, the Yarans were not to be bullied easily. After a huge loss, the Yarans finally successfully defended their homes, chasing the Olliers away from their land.

After this battle, the original intention of the recuperation policy had completely been covered up. Deiss Kingdom had to lick its own wound, like a dog that was panting heavily after being ganged up. It took every time it can muster out to rest, recuperate, and recover! Deiss King who was getting old was clear about one thing, and that's out of ten greetings to his Kingdom, at least seven had ulterior motives, while the rest were only paying lip service.

So it's good now! That timid, old guy without a speck of self respect had finally gone! God of Light took pity on Deiss! This was supposed to be said by the new King.

On the second month after his father's death, on Church's Year 793, Day 18 of 3rd Month, Roulexberg the Ninth was crowned by the Pope, Radriere VI at Borensberg's St. Midide Cathedral. What was strange to all the different ambassadors were how the Yaran nobles were wearing their military outfits. Almost all of the military analysts and diplomatic analysts muttered, "Deiss! Here they go again!"

"Actually, you don't have to worry about them!" Marshal Robin Sparse took a hit of his smoke pipe as he said.

Oscar didn't think so, the reason he visited the old marshal was to consult about the war with Deiss that is imminent.

"The Deiss can't do anything new!" The old marshal comforted the Prince with a smile. He even suggested to have new classes specific to the Deiss. That's funny! Does Titan only have the Deiss as enemy?

"My student! Let me give you some insight. There are three prerequisites that the Deiss need to achieve before they can start a war again."

"Which three?" Oscar asked, curious.

"One, they need to complete resolve their issues with the Ollier Kingdom about their lands, build trust between each other to avoid being flanked when they attack Titan. Two, before they attack Titan, they will need to recover the two provinces we took over. Three… three…"

Oscar wanted to laugh, but Marshal Robin's glare was super effective in shutting him up.

"Number three depends on how the new King feels like. If he managed to get in a decent sleep tonight, he might even mobilize his troops tomorrow! The Deiss were infamous for their barbaric tendencies, so… only they can tell what they are going to do!"

"This also counts as a prerequisite?"

"Of course!"

Oscar decided to retire for the evening, but he suddenly thought of something. "Oh, right, Marshal Robin, do you have any funny trinkets at home? My sister's birthday is coming, as you know."

"I know that, but scram! Go back and revise your school work! How dare you play truant every few days! How do you expect to go on battlefield with this attitude? Even if the Deiss started the war with us, what does it have to do with you?"

So Oscar left. He was a little upset. Not only was he teased by a mean old fart, his birthday gift to his sister was still not ready.

Compared to Dulin, the citizens of University Town seemed more intellectual.The sky had dimmed, but coffeehouses were still full of students debating among themselves with an imperial bulletin in their hands. It published a full spread coverage of the news of Deiss Kingdom, especially regarding the inheritance of throne.

The Titans had always been cautious about their enemies. Even though the new Deiss King had shown nothing but courtesy during his crowning, anyone who had read their history books would know, the Yarans were infamous for their love for playing around with peacetime to lull their opponents into a false sense of security, before appearing out of nowhere like a Holy Day present.

Not only the students were talking about this, most of Sparjoxin's saloons and clubhouses had their lights on. Even though the University Town was far away from the Northern border, Sparjoxinians who called themselves a Northerner was still worried. The military nobles discussed hypothetical tactics and strategies, while politicians who were well-versed in historical patterns analyzed the dynamics in the whole of Westland Kingdom Alliance. It seemed like only the ladies were there to join in the fun. Their topics were about Deiss as well, even though it was mostly about how to nab themselves a handsome Deiss young man with golden locks and olive eyes.

"I'm home!" Oscar's voice echoed around the manor.

A rumble of footfalls approached from upstairs. Sasha leapt from the stairs when she's about six steps from first floor, causing Oscar to burst into laughter as he opened his arms.

Holding Sasha in his arms, Oscar spun for half a dozen circles before letting her down with her face as red as beet. "Dear God of Light, she's heavy!"

Sasha stomped on her brother's foot with her deerskin leather boots.

"How are you back so soon from Dulin? I thought you'll be there for a week?"

Oscar shook his head bitterly. "I foiled a Prince's plan, and hurt the youngest son of the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Before I left for Sparjoxin, my dean of school yelled the meanest words at me! Dare I not come back? My dear sister, it's late, and your dear brother had only had afternoon tea today, I'm starving!"

Madam Keegan appeared in the corridor. "Your Highness, I've prepared everything for you!"

Oscar was so pleased, he kissed Colonel Vick's wife, it was so nice to have someone taking care of him at home!

The dining hall was brightly lit, but it only had a few people in it. The bunch of prison breakers had moved out of the manor and had been staying in Lobb Oscar Hotel. 'To guard Your Highness's property', as they said. Oscar knew, it was only their excuse to enjoy free cigars and alcohol.

On the table, there were Sasha, Countess Antonia, Paul, Colonel Vick and his wife, as well as Viscount Sukhoi who had been having migraine since waking up.

"Did someone open a hole in my head?" Torry scratched his head using a fork before sinking it into a piece of lamb steak, earning him a whole table of headshakes.

Snowstorm gave him a glare. "You should be glad I didn't have anything to drill with, or I will definitely try to drill your head open to see if there's anything more disgusting than what you're doing right now!"

Oscar kept his silence, concentrating on his food. Dinner was exceptional. Deep fried prawns, braised beef brisket, onion and pepper salad. Oscar dipped white bread into the fish broth, and the prawns into the pepper salad. When he's almost done, he started describing his story of Prince Kristen. Due to his severe bias, by the time he finished his story, everyone accepted that Prince Kristen was a shameless, despicable man.

By the time dinner finished, it was late. Oscar accompanied his sister back to her room and kissed her on her forehead, just as he rehearsed for hundreds of time. He said his good night and extinguished the candle light.

Torry had also returned to his room, it seemed Snowstorm really dd a number on him. It may be because his past few days were so busy, at this hour, Oscar found himself to be exceptionally excited. He counted the dates, drats! It was almost Sasha's birthday, what to get her for present?

Oscar retrieved a bottle of genuine Year 770 rum. This thing is as expensive as gold, and in this time of extreme stress, it's the best choice to relax! Oscar reached for two wine glasses, but Paul shook his head. Oscar didn't insist, he replaced one glass into the cupboard.

"Paul! Have you gifted any girls any birthday gifts?"

"Of course! Any man in the world would have done it before."

"Let me look at your taste!" Oscar downed the alcohol in one gulp. "Hypothetically, I mean it hypothetically, it's Sasha's coming-of-age ceremony, what should I gift her?"

The King of Assassins rolled his eyes.

"Your Imperial Highness," Snowstorm said flatly, "Just admit you're just ashamed to ask! 'Look at my taste', my foot! Let me tell you, this is a lame excuse! So distasteful!"

Oscar poured himself another glass of rum and slightly tilted himself toward Paul. He knew the Assassin of Kings will have a good idea, or else he wouldn't tease him like that.

"Yes Paul, my friend! Just tell me already!"

Snowstorm grabbed the glass from Oscar and sampled it. "Ah… It really is good! But do you know this? If you were gonna gift her one of those weird little trinkets like you used to, don't! Look at the other presents from Narcissus, it might inspire you!"

"The other presents?" Oscar gave it a thought, but he rejected those straight away. "It's mostly small knives, small bows, small swords, or something like that! I considered buying those, but you know, Sasha wouldn't care about those things at all."

Snowstorm shook his head, "Not that! I realize when you think about Young Lady, you become a complete idiot, this is not good. Think about it! Why do your family members send so many weapons to Young Lady this year? It's because she's of age now, she needs to know how to protect herself, this seems to be a tradition of House Andrew, isn't it?"

"Ola!" Oscar's jaw dropped and finally understood.

"Remember last year when Young Lady's safety was compromised? So we should give her something pretty, tiny, weird, unexpected…"

"Yes, yes, I know what you mean!" Oscar grabbed his glass from Snowstorm. "Something pretty and practical isn't it? But she's already receiving so many from Narcissus! Besides, how do I get something in such a short time?"

Snowstorm had a mysterious smile on him. He searched from inside his pockets. "Remember our mutual friend? The real King of Assassins! Thirteen had given this to me in our last mission together!"

Originally, Oscar was really so excited, his heart almost jumped out! But when he saw the little thing in Paul's hand, he choked on the alcohol burning his throat.

Without regard for his snot and tears, Oscar snatched the tiniest 'broomstick' he's ever seen! This 'broomstick' was a thick as a thumb, and it's made of a 25 centimeter long copper pipe. The funniest thing was, its head was made with the feather of a peacock.

"Thank you! Thank you, Thirteen! Thank you too! Such good friends you are! Look at what you've prepared for my sister? What is this? It's a murder weapon? Do you tickle people to death with it?" Oscar said as he started reaching at Paul's underarm with the peacock feather.

"Oh! No!" The King of Assassins shrieked! Oscar could only see a silhouette moving quickly away, and the feather broomstick vibrated!

"Ola!" Holding the weird looking broomstick, Oscar was completely stunned by the oil painting in front of him. It was a portrait by a famous painter, but the face of the portrait had completely riddled with tiny needles sticking out. Oscar's eyes were trained, but even he had difficulty counting them with one glance.

Snowstorm had already jumped up to the ceiling half a second before the broomstick activated, his fingers wedged onto the ceiling leaving five holes.

"Eastern? For military? This is so much more useful than the hand cannon!" Oscar stared at the King of Assassins, astonished. It exceeded his expectation. In the history of Westland, there were no black powder or firearms, there were also no weapons that looked like a broom, miniature, and could shoot hundreds of needles in a split second. This must be an assassination weapon, or else Thirteen wouldn't have kept it! Whatever this thing was, one fact had already etched itself into Oscar's brain, Easterners are a horror-worshipping bunch of people!

Snowstorm hopped down from the ceiling and immediately took the glass and drank the rum. That was horrifying!

"Now tell me, is it for tickling? Its name is Plume Nailgun, remember that! Its shooting mechanism is at the end of the feather. You only need to reload the needles from the bottom of the pipe to prepare it for another round of projectiles. Do you know this? Thirteen was wanted precisely because of this thing. In the East, it's the number one assassination weapon. Now that we saw it, of course, it should be called world's number one!"

Oscar nodded, "It's not for the military?"

Snowstorm rolled his eyes again. "Who are you kidding? I can guarantee this is the only one in the world."

Oscar wiped his cold sweat away from his forehead. "Ola! I'm glad!"

But the Prince immediately started to hesitate. Is it really appropriate, gifting this number one assassination weapon to his sister?

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