[Comprehensive] Mr. Erdao, a human trafficker

The whole room was empty.

There is no trace of anyone living there.

Putting on his mask and pulling up his hood, Simon Cozart walked out of the room cautiously, put a few newly issued liras and a few silver throws on the counter calmly, and walked to the hotel that provided accommodation. Outside the hotel door, there was no sound and it merged into the flow of people on the road.

Not long ago, he had just returned to Sicily on a steamship with a mixed population.

Palermo is a port city.

Like Trieste, Messina, and Ancona, these port cities and seaside towns are exceptions that can challenge the status of traditional big cities in Italy, where the economy has been almost stagnant in recent years.

And he chose to disembark here because he remembered his friend.

Before leaving Italy, he bid farewell to the friends who helped him. After nearly a year, when he came back again, the first thing he thought of was his old friends.

Giotto Vengley, and, Gertlin Jeremiah.

"Sir, buy a bunch of flowers."

The voice belonging to the young girl brought him back to his thoughts, and he shifted his gaze to the girl holding the flower basket.

Very handsome appearance.

Oh, it turned out to have arrived here.

This place is almost out of the scope of the civilian area.

High-ranking officials and nobles often live in this area, so the value of the houses nearby is also very high.

This is also where peddlers like flower girls often set foot.

Stations, ports, and the fringes of wealthy districts.

They will not sell flowers in civilian areas, because civilians rarely have the leisure to enjoy the morning flowers dripping with dew.

They will not go deep into this area, not only because they may be humiliated, but also because they are afraid of offending nobles.

Therefore, at the entrance of this area, a place where nobles, businessmen, and civilians may pass by is their best choice.

Of course, the flow of people is not as good as in places like stations and ports, but nobles or merchants are very generous, and there are also many noble ladies or young ladies at home who call their maids to order from these flower girls.

"Bring a lily."

After thinking about it, Simon Cozart said.

"Ok."

The flower girl carefully separated a bunch of flower branches, rolled them with old newspapers and handed them to the customers.

Newspapers, which she collected door to door from unwanted people, were also a feature of the bouquets she sold to better remember her in those guests.

Simon Cozart had a friend who did a similar job, except she died with the town.

He can understand the thoughts of the common people very well, because he also has wishes.

If it wasn't for the sudden disaster at the beginning, maybe he would have lived an ordinary life like any of them.

instead of like now...

Hide, run around.

Accumulate those heavy things with youth through the years.

"I'm young, I'm up and down, I... I don't want to be reconciled."

This is what Simon Cozart said about himself.

Giotto and G just stood beside him, on the same road as him.

There is still a lot of fog ahead, and I don't know where to go.

They were young at that time, but their fiery hearts were not extinguished.

"To fight to protect the homeland and the people, it is better to form a self-defense regiment."

Simon Cozart, who came to visit, did not expect that one of his suggestions back then would be implemented by Giotto and G, and the development momentum was good.

At this moment, he deeply realized that civilians have been oppressed for a long time.

Whether it is the government or the local or foreign upper-level forces.

Material poverty and mental suffering.

Different classes are doomed not to understand each other's words.

The Vengley Self-Defense Group is rooted in civilians. Unlike those families that develop and then become dependent, the Self-Defense Group is to enable people to protect those they care about.

This is also the first step of the huge Pengelie family in the future.

"Welcome back, Simon." Giotto gave him a warm hug.

"I'm glad I'm back too, Giotto."

Simon Cozart froze for a moment, then quickly raised the corners of his mouth and hugged him back.

"Have you dealt with your affairs?"

"Well," Simon Cozart was not surprised by Giotto's good intuition, his eyebrows and eyes were more relaxed than when he left, "I'll come back to help you."

"You..." G frowned and looked at him, hesitant to speak.

"I have already completed the first thing." Simon Cozart smiled lightly, showing a somewhat hearty smile, "The second is at least my ideal, and of course I have to do something. "

"But, Cozart, you're not..."

"No," Simon Cozart stopped G's words, "I won't join, but I will do what I can."

"After leaving this time, I met a few friends."

He slowly talked about his experience of this year, leaving, searching, planning, and destruction... including the few companions with similar temperaments he met along the way.

The flowers still covered with dewdrops lay quietly and horizontally on the table.

In the castle at the foot of the mountain far away from the Vengley Manor, a carriage set off from the castle towards Palermo.

"Master, if the master comes back and knows that you have run away from home again, he will definitely be angry."

The old man sitting in front of the carriage and waving his whip said so, but the speed of driving the carriage was unambiguous.

The exterior of the carriage is hard and gorgeous, but the interior is very softly furnished, and the glass windows are separated by curtains.

Sapphire Povino was lying lazily on the wide cushion of the carriage, his eyes half-closed, seemingly extremely sleepy, his short light green fluffy hair rested comfortably on his cheeks.

He pursed his lips and said in a dissipated voice: "That's because he has been nagging more and more recently..."

The voice gradually weakened, as if falling asleep in the next second.

The sound of the wagon wheels "gurgling" also became a hypnotic accompaniment at this time.

The drooping eyelids finally fell, and the sound of heavy breathing sounded in the carriage.

"May God bless you, Amen."

A smooth cross was drawn on the chest, and the preaching priest sent away the last believer who came to seek enlightenment.

It's getting dark.

"I'm really tired today!"

The wheat-skinned priest has very short black hair, holding a closed "Bible" in his hand, and said these words in a hearty tone.

He doesn't look like a pampered priest, but a young man with excellent physical fitness.

—and indeed it is, "The Invincible Boxer," as they called him before he became a priest.

Just when the priest was about to close the door of the church, today, the last visitor stepped into the church.

"Do you want to confess something?"

Regrettably that today's exercise time will be postponed again, Naker said, walking towards the visitor, the cross on the chest of the black robe swayed slightly.

The visitor did not look back, but looked up at the tall statue of the Virgin Mary.

The patterned glass painted with Bible stories has been darkened, only the faint light leaking from the steeple windows of the church can be seen.

The final twilight colors.

"Hello, Father," the last visitor finally turned his head, his brown smiling eyes slightly brightened, "I'm here to find you."

The author has something to say: Amen (Amen), Hebrew, means "sincerely wish", "I hope so, really", and the congregation said "I agree" at the end of the prayer.