Chapter 152 – 65: Daggers, Steel Spikes, and Revolver Guns
Having climbed out the window, Winters swiftly scaled the rooftop.
During the Sovereign War, the district where Major Moritz now resided had been used to accommodate noble families that had fled from The Federated Provinces to Vineta.
At that time, the militias of The Federated Provinces had already openly raised their banners in rebellion, but the flames of insurgency hadn’t reached Vineta. Officially, autonomous cities like Sea Blue City and City of Flowers were still direct territories of the royal family.
Keen-sensed Vinetan merchants spotted an opportunity: even as refugees, the nobles desired more dignified housing.
Thus, they built rows of stone houses in that district.
Ingenious merchants constructed these houses with two stories, and placed one right next to the other, with a single wall shared between two homes. This design of double-layered, side-by-side units not only saved on materials but also maximized the use of the land.
While homes directly next to each other were not considered very respectable, at least they had roofs, four walls, and were made of stone; most importantly, they were much cheaper than individual stone houses.
Eventually, the idea was a great success, as the refugee nobles outdid each other in handing out the few Gold Coins they had brought with them from The Federated Provinces. Terraced rows of stone houses sprang up throughout the district, and even some of the less affluent nobles began to commission the construction of houses in this style.
The buildings in the Benwei district were constructed with the same design concept. The noble refugees still had some money, so they used stone. But the fleeing commoners were penniless, so the living areas of the dock workers were primarily made of wood.
When the houses were connected, the rooftops connected too. Although subsequent occupants had modified their rooftops somewhat, it posed no impediment to the agile Winters.
At this moment, Winters was like a silent black cat, stealthily moving across the rooftops. Two night watchmen passed below with a lantern, oblivious to the shadow that leaped across the gap between two rows of houses above them.
Shortly, Winters crossed the entire district and arrived at his destination.
It was a house that could be found anywhere in the district, with an ordinary design. The doors and windows on the first floor were tightly closed, and faint lights shone through the windows of the second floor. It looked like an ordinary household, with nothing particularly noteworthy.
Using the moonlight, Winters checked the features of this house against those of the surrounding ones. Once sure he hadn’t made a mistake, he drew the wheel-lock pistol from its holster, sprinkled gunpowder on the firing mechanism, and snapped the flint into the frizzen.
The pistol was now ready to fire.
Unlike regular wheel-lock pistols—Henry III’s gunsmiths were indeed worthy of being the royal gunsmiths—this firearm had an ingenious design: there was a small cap over the priming pan that was linked to the trigger.
Only when the trigger was pulled would the cap open, igniting the gunpowder in the barrel, significantly reducing the risk of accidental discharge.
Winters had to trust that the design was effective as he slid the ready-to-fire wheel-lock pistol back into its holster.
The pistol was his last resort. Unless absolutely necessary, he didn’t want to use this loud weapon. The rightful source is Nov3lFɪre.ɴet
Let’s rewind to two days earlier, when Winters was returning home from the council hall with Antonio.
“Follow him, find out who he is. If he’s just a beggar, give him some money. Tell him to not come near our house again,” Antonio said, pointing at the little beggar’s retreating figure.
Winters nodded and set off at a brisk pace.
It didn’t take long for Winters to catch up with the little beggar. Once he did, Winters stepped in front of the boy, who didn’t turn to run but stopped and stared blankly at Winters.
“Why are you running?” Winters dismounted and approached the little beggar, hand on the hilt of his sword, and demanded in a stern voice.
Unexpectedly, the little beggar’s nose turned red, and he burst into tears, clutching Winters, “Brother, please save my big brother…”
Winters instinctively wanted to dodge but froze in place upon hearing the voice, allowing the little beggar to embrace him. Although the boy’s voice was changing, Winters couldn’t mistake it.
Winters took out a handkerchief and wiped the little beggar’s face, “Are you Benwei’s brother? Are you the third one?”
The little beggar nodded.
“What happened to your brother, tell me slowly…” Winters led the younger Benwei to a back alley where there were no passersby.
Back in the Army Junior School, Winters often went to play with Benvenuto. Benvenuto was the eldest son with several younger brothers and sisters. At that time, Winters and Benvenuto were only as old as the current third Benwei, and Benvenuto’s younger brothers liked to follow the two older boys like tails, with both the second and third Benwei calling Winters “Brother.”
“The Montans came looking for us last night…” Benwei’s third brother sobbed, using a mix of words and gestures to explain to Winters what had happened. Although the child was young and his speech was punctuated with sobs, his thoughts and narrative were clear, and Winters quickly understood the situation.
Last night, a group of men had broken into the farmhouse where Benwei was hiding. After a struggle, they took Benwei and his second brother away and severely beat the owner of the house.
Benwei’s third brother had been living with the son of the house owner. By lying and saying the third brother was his own son, he had narrowly escaped the same fate.
“And then what?” Winters tried to keep his breathing controlled, a voice in his head shouting non-stop: The Montans found Benwei because they followed you!