Chapter 22: Chapter 21. Night Milan
At the foot of the great Alps I was met by Milan - the main city of Northern Italy and the capital of the Lombardy region. A modern megapolis, which during the day is considered a business and financial center of the country, and at night - one of the two underground centers in Europe. No matter how fashionable and stylish Milan was, first of all it was the most expensive and richest city in Italy, which attracted the attention of business sharks, mafias and famous criminals. And a large part of this marginal society is not human at all.
The question arises, how in Italy, the sunny alma mater of the Roman Empire, pizza, beautiful sports cars, gladiators and the Church, can there be such a place? The answer is simple: this beautiful picture with the taste of gelato and wine is just a wrapper, and the so-called candy is an incredibly complex, tense and dangerous supernatural world, which throughout its history has been shaken in the flames of battle.
It all began still in the times of absolute monarchism in Europe, when it was engulfed by clouds of chaos, a bloody mist and a landslide of bones. For it was then that the great race for survival between Magic and Faith began. At first there were only small diversions and brief clashes in which magicians often turned out to be losers. Probably, it would all have ended with the defeat of magic and the rise of the Inquisition to the throne of brilliant fame, but in the early thirteenth century the Magical Association of Grauzauberer appeared. And the burning wick of this bomb still reached the powder. Almost immediately after that, in 1215, a full-scale war with the plans of Babarosa and counterattacks of "Uran" began, which carried away the lives of hundreds of thousands of members of the Church and the Magical Association.
Of course, much of this high intensity was due to the Great War of the Three Factions. Therefore, after its end, the war between the magi and the clergy lost its former intensity. It almost came to a peace treaty, but as if by fate, the twentieth century brought to light the most abominable sides of humanity. First, the First World War, and then the Second again dragged magi and clerics into the whirlpool of blood, cries of agony and a moment of glory.
Of course, there were also extremists, radicals and traitors on both sides…
But at the end of the Second World War, Grauzauberer and the Church decided to immediately sit down at the negotiating table and completely stop the bloodshed and reduce entropy to zero.
However, the war that lasted almost seven and a half centuries could not but leave behind a greasy blood trail. And such a signature of the war became the most famous bloody and scorching places of it, namely Milan and Paris, which by a historical coincidence became the main instigators of chaos in Europe. Subsequently, they will receive the names of the Rusty City of Paris and the Night Milan.
Of course, the Magic Association and the Church tried to clean up and subjugate these places, but even losing a large number of their personnel, they could not achieve more than a usual calm before the criminal storm.
And it's incredibly funny that the Church, the center of which was Italy, and where a large part of its power, wealth and heritage is collected, could not clean up Milan. Although let's be honest, Grauzauberer, who has a branch in Paris, could not clean this city from the "Lumpen Plague". Therefore, the magicians went the way of democracy. As a result, the Rusty City became a formal, semi-controlled, gray part of the Association.
The Church was not behind its sworn enemies and also struck a deal with the criminal world of Milan, which played a big role in Italy remaining the only country in Europe without a branch of the magical association.
It is well known that mages and clerics do not exactly get along. Of course, compared to what has been for the past millennium, Grau Caesar and the Church are going through a honeymoon period. But even the fact that peace has been made between them does not give the mage freedom of action on Church territory. Therefore, the possibilities of the magical association in Italy are much less than in any other country in Europe.
And Milan was a good window to enter this "market", but the Church was quick to act and signed an agreement whereby it would not interfere in the affairs of the Night Milan, and in return, the same Night Milan would not allow Grau Caesar to develop in the city. Of course, it is not excluded that the Church, by concluding such a deal, was pursuing other, much more ambitious goals.
However, all I have said is just an old game of words called history. In reality, both Milan and Paris are the freest of the free cities in the world! Although, of course, because there are no clear laws, rules and morals here, it all looks like a "red dead redemption", in which you are a NPC.
By the time I finished telling all this, I had already arrived at the main street of the Night Milan - Corso Como, which is famous for its "fashionable" shops, night clubs and hedonism. But as soon as I turned onto this street, a middle-aged man crashed into me.
"Look where you're going, donkey!" the man snarled. He was about to move on when I grabbed his left wrist.
"You forgot something," I said, smiling.
"What, you clown, you're laughing at me?!" He yelled in Italian, struggling to break free from my grip.
"Even if I am laughing, what's it to you?" I tightened my grip so that the man winced in pain. "But most of all I think you forgot something."
The man glared at me angrily for a while before he couldn't take the pain anymore and reached into his pocket with his free right hand...
But before he could do anything, I pulled him towards me and, with a jab, pinned him to the wall.
"Left breast pocket - a gun. Around the waist - another barrel and two magazines. Concealed shoulder systems for knives around both thighs. Shall I continue?" Smiling brazenly, I stared at the man.
"Bad luck," he gritted his teeth. Then, reaching into the side pocket of his pants, he pulled out a black wallet. "So thin... You can take it."
"Should I thank you?" I asked, smiling. "Well, alright, run away, thief."
"Damn…"
The man began to curse, but I interrupted him:
"Do I have to wait for you to disappear from my sight?"
Furious and disgruntled, the man raised his collar and, turning around, walked away into the crowd. As soon as he disappeared, my face lost its expression. Damn scoundrels with their extremism towards the philosophy of strength.
I was saying that there are no clear rules and laws here, right? However, as in the rest of the world, there is one and only, working for centuries, truth: the one who is stronger, is the one who is right. Although in the Night Milan and Rusted City this truth is much more distorted... I would compare this place to a mini projection of the world of cultivators.
"Now is not the time to be outraged by the stupidity of the idea of humiliating the weak!" -
Shaking my head, I looked up at the sky, which was getting darker and darker, gradually losing its bright blue hue, and at the horizon a warm orange-pink atmosphere was descending. Dusk is coming. We need to hurry!
My destination was a small souvenir shop on a narrow dark alley between the houses. Above the entrance door hung a shield-shaped sign, the upper part of which was drawn with a black cross on a white background, and the lower one with two yellow circles on a black background. Under the shield was a ribbon with a Latin motto "PAX TECUM FILI", which means "peace with you, son".
When I entered the shop, I was met with a cozy picture of a typical family business: an old woman was sitting behind the counter reading some book in a hard cover, and behind her an old man was carefully cleaning and carefully looking at strange stone figures.
"Good evening, young man," the old lady greeted me kindly. "And I apologize for it being so hard to find us."
"Amici, diem perdidi," I slightly bowed in respect to the couple.
"So young and already on this path," shaking her head, the old lady sadly spoke.
"Don't burden the boy with your regret," a hoarse voice of an old man sounded. "He is either too foolish and doesn't deserve it, or he is brave enough... He completely forgot that it's the same thing."
At these words, the old woman's face was clouded with clouds, making her already deep wrinkles look like long deep cracks.
"Either don't mumble to yourself, Antonio, or come up and tell me to my face!" with a roar at the old man, she directed her already kind gaze at me. "Don't pay attention to this conservative."
"I don't dare to argue on such topics with Antonio and Jovanna Albizzi," I answered, nodding my head.
"You have a good tongue, boy. Women, I guess, you please to the left and…" the old man Antonio didn't have time to finish when his wife's sharp blow made all the air come out of his lungs.
"I apologize for this fool. Shall we move on to the pressing matters?" Jovanna suddenly changed the topic.
"Agreed," I nodded.
"So, what kind of painting, or maybe sculpture will you create?" Jovanna asked, smiling with a squint.
"I need corrosion worms, three dynamite pieces, twenty grams of Gimp powder, one fire opal…" I started enumerating all the materials I needed.
Antonio and Jovanna Albizzi, once of a powerful aristocratic family whose power, legacy, and wealth was taken away by the Church in the nineteenth century. It is not surprising, then, that the Albizzi family came to despise the Church, but at the same time, they were too pious to join the Magical Association. So first they established themselves in Nocturnal Milan, becoming one of the main suppliers of magical reagents, artifacts, and other goods. Incidentally, one of the reasons why the Church could not cleanse Milan of "evil" was the Albizzi family business.
Today there is not a single dog that does not know that the Albizzi are one of the three powers trading in "holy fire of punishment" and "death". Much less know that the couple before me entered into an agreement with Grauzauberer, according to which they provide the necessary equipment for the extermination of priests and traitors at a discount, and in return the mage Grauzauberer is gradually avenging for the fall of their family.
"Very interesting choice," the old Antonio muttered, and then sharply shook his head, as if stopping himself.
"Anything else?" she asked kindly, smiling, Jovanna.
"Knowing that the hands of these two are the blood of thousands of people, would you be sorry for their easy skirmishes and enjoy the family idyll that reigns in this store?" Although, it is not for me to speak of responsibility for murder.
"Can you advise me something?" I answered the question with a question.
"What are you going to capture on the painting, young artist?" with some anticipation, she asked.
"Mage of the Fourth Circle."
"Then this will be enough for you," she laughed in response.
If not [Sun Worm], if…
"We do not accept gold," looking me in the eye, Jovanna continued. "Twelve thousand euros from you."
If not capitalism, if…
◊◊◊
In the same store, right after Rayan Romano left.
"Is this guy some kind of criminal genius?" As if to no avail, old Antonio muttered, hunched over the stone figure of a spider.
"You liked his way of killing the Fourth Circle mage?" Jovanna chuckled and asked.
"As if he already killed Francesco Bernuli," the old man replied calmly.
"In my life, I've seen many mages, but this guy is special," Jovanna smiled.
"He just came up with an interesting plan, that's all," the old man huffed.
"Gosh, anyone you treat this way becomes special. Aren't you tired of treading the same path?" Jovanna snarked.
"I don't recall. They all seem to die," he answered.
"Maybe a third party will judge us then?" Jovanna whispered, looking up the stairs to the second floor. "Lavinia, darling, help this old lady."
At that moment, a fair-haired twenty-year-old with sapphire eyes materialized on the steps. She wore a white hat and a fitting blue jacket beneath a mantle.
"Rayan is quite special," Lavinia smiled.
"I told you so," Jovanna triumphantly huffed.
"Why do I feel like I've been betrayed?" Antonio grumbled, furrowing his brow.
"Can you not admit your wrong-doing? Huh?!" the old woman snapped at him.
"What do you know about admitting..."
"...Should I take a walk tonight?" Lavinia mumbled, glancing at the old couple of merchants, then looking back where Rayan had been standing. "My teacher said I should be careful around him... Am I so weak in her eyes? Or will he steal me away? It's decided, I must take a walk tonight."
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