Chapter 1550: Chapter 1550

Sensitive to the unusual tone in the cat's meow, Jenkins heeded Chocolate's warning. As he turned, he caught sight of a hatted, middle-aged man hurrying away from the grand hall. This was the same man who had been tailing him ever since he’d arrived at City Hall. In fact, since coming to Bel Diran, he was frequently followed whenever he went out in public, but the trackers were always ordinary folk, so he paid them no mind. He knew they were Queen Isabella’s men, sent to both watch and protect him.

“When on earth is the Queen going to summon me?” he wondered. “If she doesn’t see me soon, I’ll have to return home next week.”

He mused, his eyes following the man who, failing to hide his alarm, vanished through the main entrance. As he left, the man brushed shoulders with a tall, thin foreigner with the distinct features of someone from Cheslan. The newcomer looked equally flustered, scanning the hall as if searching for someone. When it became clear his quarry wasn't there, he turned and headed for the corridor to his left.

The sudden reports seemed to freeze the entire third floor in time. Jenkins’s eyes widened, and he strode quickly over to the sofa.

“Gunshots,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Stay put. Don't wander off. It sounds like they're coming from the first floor.”

His voice was quiet yet carried an air of authority, and as the only man in their tour group, the young women naturally trusted him. The other people in the hall had also recognized the sounds as three distinct gunshots. Though no one knew what was happening downstairs, they all knew it couldn't be good.

The City Hall complex was far too vast, with numerous staircases connecting the levels, making any attempt to seal off the floor impossible. Everyone remained frozen in place, most holding their breath, listening. Sure enough, more shots soon rang out from roughly the same spot. Hathaway, whose hearing was exceptionally acute, could even discern a subtle difference in the reports—it was definitely not the same gun being fired.

“We can't stay here,” Jenkins declared. “We need to find a room and hide.”

There were at least several hundred people on the third floor. Amid the sporadic gunfire from below, word spread that a group of armed men had stormed City Hall. After gunning down the guards at the entrance, they had run into another contingent of security inside.

It was a public open house, a special event that demanded heightened security, so the building was teeming with guards and security staff. Even before the people from the first two floors had fled upstairs, the City Hall guards had already gained the upper hand. Everyone was confident the shooting downstairs would soon be over.

And just as they expected, the scattered gunshots faded away after less than ten minutes. The more cautious among them waited a little longer, but after confirming there was no further danger, they decided to send someone down to assess the situation.

Naturally, such a task didn't fall to anyone in their tour group. Jenkins watched as a young man in a uniform volunteered and headed for the stairwell. Jenkins stroked the cat on his shoulder, then discreetly took a step to the side, placing himself in front of Briny.

Another shot rang out, but this one was different—it came from right at the top of the third-floor stairs. The young volunteer was so startled he fell flat, scrambling back into the corridor on his hands and knees. A man holding a small pistol, its barrel pointed at the ceiling, emerged from the stairwell.

He was clearly in terrible shape, walking with a pronounced limp. His black coat was soaked a dark crimson from a wound in his right chest. A trail of blood dripped behind him, marking a line up the stairs, yet he pressed on tenaciously, his fierce eyes sweeping over the crowd in the corridor.

“Nobody move!” he snarled. “I'll shoot the first person who tries anything!”

He was a foreigner with Cheslan features, and his Fidektri was heavily accented and clumsy. He seemed to be searching for someone specific, but the corridor was so crowded that anyone could easily hide by simply ducking down into the throng.

“All the Cheslan people, out! I'm only looking for the ones from Cheslan!”

He yelled at the crowd, and those under his gaze instinctively glanced around for any such foreigners. Jenkins's eyes flicked to the side. He spotted the man who had brushed past his tracker at the entrance, now pressed against the wall with his knees slightly bent, trying to appear shorter.

Perhaps it was because he stood out as the only man among a group of women, or perhaps he was just unlucky enough to be standing too near the front, but the gunman suddenly leveled his pistol at Jenkins.

“Have you seen any Cheslan people?”

“About ten minutes ago, as I was coming up to the third floor, I saw a group of them leaving City Hall.”

“No, not them! That group was a decoy!”

He shrieked, then demanded:

“There are others! There have to be other Cheslan people here! Tell me now, or I'll kill you!”

Jenkins felt a tug on his clothes from behind; he knew it was the blonde young woman. He shook his head slightly, signaling for her not to worry, then glanced at Hathaway, warning her with his eyes to stay put.

“Alright then, can you describe the person you're looking for?”

“They're traitors! They betrayed Cheslan!”

Their eyes met, and the gunman blurted out the words without thinking. A flicker of surprise crossed his own face, but his overwhelming rage and the fear of failure quickly pushed it aside.

“Tell me now, where is the Cheslan traitor hiding here?” For more chapters visıt novᴇlfire.net

The barrel of his pistol trembled dangerously; the intense pain and rising panic made his grip unsteady. A man was the most dangerous of all, because even he had no idea when his finger might accidentally squeeze the trigger.

“Sir,” Jenkins warned, “if you want an answer, you need to steady that gun.”

“Tell me where the Cheslan traitor is hiding! I know you're stalling for time. Yes, the guards will be up here soon, but before they arrive, I swear I’ll show every one of you just how many bullets I have left.”

The extreme blood loss and terror had pushed him to the brink of madness.

“I am a nobleman,” Jenkins stated calmly, “so I would not lie to you.”

Even Jenkins knew how utterly illogical his statement sounded.

“Relax,” he continued. “You'll find out where he is very soon!”

He raised his hands as he spoke, intending to take a step forward, but the movement seemed to shatter the man’s remaining composure.

“Stay back! I'll kill you!”

As he shouted, he aimed the pistol directly at Jenkins's head. At that very instant, two separate groups of people burst from the crowd, leaping in front of Jenkins without a shred of hesitation.

Neither group had anticipated the other's actions, but in the ensuing chaos, the gunman's aim was thrown off. The rescuers then converged on the Cheslan man as one. Gravely wounded, he was no match for them and was subdued without firing another shot.

The guards from downstairs arrived shortly after, and the brief commotion was finally over. Though the final moments had been tense, the entire incident had lasted little more than ten minutes. Aside from the intruders and the unfortunate guards at the entrance, not a single person was harmed.

“Jenkins, who were those people who rushed out to block the shot for you?”

The tour group didn't leave immediately after the assailants were apprehended. Concerned that more of them might be lurking on the streets, Jenkins and the young ladies were escorted to a third-floor conference room to wait. Not every visitor was afforded such treatment, but then, not every tour group included so many scions of nobility.

“The northerners are likely connected to Dolores; we probably just ran into them by coincidence,” Jenkins answered Briny’s question. “As for the first group to rush out... I’m afraid I have no idea.”

He was answering Briny, but in truth, he had a pretty good idea.

“Perhaps they were sent by Her Majesty the Queen to protect you.”

The blonde young woman whispered. Jenkins shot her a look of feigned surprise. By saying that, Briny was essentially admitting she knew the Williams family's secret.

He murmured the question, but Briny offered no reply. The atmosphere grew slightly awkward. Just as Hathaway was about to change the subject and speculate on the identities of the attackers, a soft knock came at the conference room door. The guard posted outside opened it cautiously, peered out, and then allowed a man to enter, wiping sweat from his brow with an embarrassed smile.

It was the mayor of Bel Diran, Mr. Wesley O'brien; Jenkins recognized him from photographs. While the city's residents might consider their mayor a major figure, the reality was quite different. Due to the unique political structure of the Fidektri Kingdom and the various measures the royal family employed to check the power of Parliament, the mayor of the royal capital, Bel Diran, wielded less national influence than even Mayor Saks Luto of Nolan.

Mr. Luto, with whom Jenkins had once attended the ribbon-cutting ceremony for Nolan’s first gas streetlight, held genuine sway over his city and the surrounding regions. The mayor of Bel Diran, however, had a negligible impact on the nation’s political and economic heart. The capital was filled with far too many bureaucrats and nobles who outranked him; the city’s actual administration hardly depended on its municipal government at all.

“Ladies, oh, and Baron Williamette,” the mayor began, his smile strained. “I am so dreadfully sorry about today's incident. Truly. I deeply apologize that you had to experience something so frightening. But please, do not worry. The culprits have been apprehended, and our kingdom's sound legal system will ensure they are punished to the fullest extent.”

The mayor spoke with a strained smile, clearly not having come to visit such a “troublesome” group of guests of his own volition.