After reading the letter, Caesar silently folded it and handed it back to Patsy.

"What did the letter say? If I may ask," Patsy whispered.

Caesar looked at the sky quietly, "The letter is in your hand. If you want to know, open it and take a look."

Patsy quickly read the entire letter, "Looking at the meaning of the letter, she should be dissatisfied with the life planned by her family for her. The marriage contract may be a constraint for her, but she should have no objection to you."

Caesar said calmly: "Don't be stupid, this letter is filled with the air of a narcissistic literary uncle. This was not written by Nono, it should be Fingel."

Patsy was stunned for a moment, then lowered his head to read the letter again, trying to find out what he called the "artistic uncle's spirit".

"Nono would never write me this kind of letter. Even if she really wanted to go out for a walk, she would just pull out a napkin and write on it, 'I'm not happy, I want to go out to play, and I'll be back.'" Caesar ducked in and sat down.

In the car, he said expressionlessly: "I can completely imagine Fingel's state of twisting and imitating a girl's mentality when writing this letter, and maybe even scratching the hairs in his heart."

Patsy tried to picture the scene in his mind, and then felt a chill.

Caesar said: "That guy is a professional coal washer and can forge the handwriting of various people. Since there is Fingel, Lu Mingfei must be among them."

Naturally, the motorcycle was collected by his subordinates. At this moment, Passi drove him on the highway outside Milan, heading to Gattuso's family's castle in the countryside.

It was spring, and rosemary and sage were growing lushly in the fields. Caesar drank a glass of whiskey and watched the sea of ​​deep purple and light purple flowers passing by outside the car window.

Although he was sure that the letter was written by Fingel, maybe the engagement was really a constraint for Nono?

When Caesar fell in love with her at first sight, she was just a red bird flying freely across the sky, chattering wildly. But when he wanted to have her, she couldn't chatter wildly.

Do you like a bird? Do you want it to remain free, or do you want it to be obedient and not fly away?

Thinking like this, Caesar couldn't help but feel a little depressed and drank all the wine in the glass.

…

Cassel College, Northern Illinois, United States.

In the conference hall deep in the Hall of Valor, portraits of past secret party leaders hang on the walls, and people dressed in black sit at the table.

Most of them are very old, and they look and dress like they were dug out of graves. It feels like a gathering of gentlemen at the end of the 19th century.

"There hasn't been a meeting like this for many years, Mr. Vanderbilt."

"Yes, Mr. Turing, the last time I remember was in 1961."

The dialogue between old friends reunited is also lifeless, like ghosts in the coffin whispering.

After World War II, this group of secret party elders has never gathered so neatly. Most of the people who can sit at this table have changed the course of history, such as building the atomic bomb and ending World War II.

Of course, there are also some that are purely violent and have buried many resurrected ancient dragons.

For these people who have changed history, there should be nothing that can make them uneasy, but the atmosphere today is very gloomy. The elders seemed to be chatting calmly, but they couldn't help but look at the empty space at the end of the conference table.

chair.

That was the chair of Principal Hilbert Jean Angers, but at the moment he was lying in the emergency cabin with weak vital signs.

"The heart was almost completely cut open. Fortunately, the rescue was timely and the heart was replaced with an extracorporeal circulation device. However, it is still not possible to say that the rescue was successful. Half of his life is still in the hands of death." A member of the secret party responsible for suturing the heart.

That's what it said.

"At least half of your life is still in your hands." Professor von Schneider, the head of the Executive Department, said.

"No, the other half of his life is in his own hands. He can still survive in this situation because of the wildfire of revenge in his heart." The doctor said: "If it were anyone else, even if I were there to treat him immediately, he would still be alive now.

It's time for a funeral."

Angers is also the elder of the Secret Party, the most active elder. He created the "Academy Era" of the Secret Party with his iron fist, and won consecutive victories on the battlefield against the Dragon King.

In his hands, the hybrid finally saw hope of ending the Dragon King forever.

But just three nights ago, the situation took a turn for the worse. Angers was attacked, the keel was stolen, and all the results were lost.

The core leaders of the secret party were shocked. The elders once again gathered in this dusty conference room to face the situation that may worsen in the future.

Among the school board members, the cold and arrogant Countess Elizabeth Laurent and the underage girl were sandwiched between these antique-like old things, like delicate flowers blooming on a grave.

Countess Laurent's expression was a little sad. She had the closest relationship with Angers among the school board members. Angers was like a father or grandfather to her, who had gone through many hardships and was indestructible.

Who knew that such a person could be destroyed in one fell swoop?

The door was pushed open, and the strong smell of alcohol drifted in. Fifteen minutes later, the host of this meeting finally appeared.

A plaid denim shirt that has been washed out of shape, jeans with holes connected to them, a middle-aged and fat belly but still a deliciously twisted butt.

The vice-principal patted each elder on the shoulder, blew a kiss to Countess Laurent and the girl, and finally sat down on the chair that belonged to Angers.

"Teacher Flamel." The elders all nodded slightly to express their respect.

Flamel, this surname is almost unknown within Kassel College. The students only know that he is the vice-principal. His IDs in the night watch forum are 'Midnight Sweetheart' and 'The Great Flight Era'. His biggest hobby is

While drinking, my second hobby is chatting with IDs who look like girls. When the conversation gets heated, I ask them for photos.

But in front of the senators, he is the Flamel mentor, and everyone must pay respect to the Flamel mentor.

"Is everyone alive?" The vice principal looked around.

"No, part of it is dead," Mr. Turing said: "The active ones are basically here. Please tell us, Master Flamel, the current situation."

"The keel has been stolen, and the principal is on the verge of death. For the college and the secret party, the situation is of course terrible." The vice-principal shrugged, "But it may not be an opportunity for me personally. If Angers really dies,

Now, it’s my turn to take the lead!”

If anyone else had said such heartless words, they would have been expelled from the venue long ago, but the person who said this was Master Flamel, and all generations of Master Flamel have been the chief alchemist masters of the Secret Party.

According to internal records of the Secret Party, a master alchemist whose skills can directly match the ancient Egyptian era, the first generation Nicholas Flamel joined the Secret Party in the early 15th century and provided a huge boost to the Secret Party's great cause of slaying dragons.

His descendants and successors are also called Nicholas Flamel, and this has been passed down to this day.

The tutors of Flamel throughout the ages were all highly respected, except for this generation. Fortunately, his attainments in alchemy still made him worthy of his surname.

For the purpose of winning over, they gave him the title of vice president, but did not expect him to manage academic affairs.
Chapter completed!