The Law of the Silent Gentleman

Chapter 11 – Amberland

A black horse carried two passengers leisurely along a country road. The rider was dressed in an old gray suit, and his blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail. As the horse bumped up and down, the rider’s gray coat lifted up from time to time, revealing the ornately decorated saber at his waist. Another man sat behind him, with blue-purple dyed hair, and an ill-fitting shirt that looked like it had been stolen from a drying rack on some farm. He hugged the rider’s waist, put his head on the rider’s shoulder, and closed his eyes for a nap. Every once in a while the rider has to check to see if he has fallen.

The two walked unhurriedly, passing through green pastures, passing through flocks of sheep, and finally stopped in front of a magnificent manor. The name of the manor was Ambran, and the nearby shepherds and tenant farmers had to pay taxes to the manor owner. Although he does not have a noble title, Umbran’s master is the largest landowner in this area. Perhaps also the largest landowner on the border of Lorran.

The rider pushed the passenger who was hugging his waist: “Wake up. We are here.”

The passenger rubbed his sleepy eyes: “Where have you been?”

He was carried off the horse in a daze by the rider, and he didn’t wake up until his feet hit the ground. “where is this place?”

The gate of the manor was closed tightly, and a long nail was nailed to the pillar in front of the gate, and a silver mask was hung on it. It’s really weird to hang a mask at the door. But the blond rider took off the mask as if nothing had happened, put it on his own face, and knocked the brass knocker on the gate.

Not long after, the door opened. A well-dressed old man with white hair folded his hands behind his back, and his cobalt blue eyes sternly examined the two visitors. The three were relatively speechless. After several minutes, the old man bowed slowly.

“Welcome back, master.”

The young man with blue-purple hair turned to his companion in surprise: “You are the owner of this manor? Why have you never heard of it?”

The blond rider kicked him: “Shut up.”

“The master hasn’t come back for a long time, and he must not remember the name of the old man. The old man is Bernard, your housekeeper.”

“Oh, hello, Bernard. How is everything at home?”

“Exactly the same as when you went out.”

“That’s good. I’ve been away from home for too long, and I feel uncomfortable coming back.”

“You will get used to it soon. By the way, I am getting old, and I don’t even remember the master’s name. May I ask the master’s name?”

“Enzo,” said the blond rider.

“Where’s your companion?”

“His name is Giuliano, and he’s my…student.”

“It turned out to be Master Giuliano.” The old butler respectfully and somewhat alienated, invited “Master” and “Master” into the house.

The interior of the manor is even more magnificent, luxurious and elegant, reminding Giuliano of his own home. It is a pity that the mansion of the Sacon family has been burned.

“I’m very satisfied, Bernard,” said Enzo. “You didn’t move my room, did you?”

“I don’t dare, everything in your room is exactly the same as when you went out.”

“Take me to have a look, I want to check.”

The old butler led Enzo and Giuliano up to the second floor, and the best room facing south was the master’s bedroom. Umbrella’s master had spared no expense in building the manor, so that the house could be furnished as comfortably and pleasantly as possible. Enzo “checked” the bedroom, guest room and study. On the desk in the study was a piece of paper with the words “free access” written on it, with a signet ring pressed against it. Enzo picked up the ring and checked it, then put it on his hand as if nothing had happened, as if it belonged to him in the first place.

“Bernard, Master Giuliano will live next door to me from now on. We’ve been exhausted all the way, and we’re full of dust. Please prepare bath water and food.”

“Obey, master.”

After the old butler left, Enzo took off his mask and sighed. Giuliano stared at him intently, unable to hide the look of surprise on his face: “Is this really your home?”

“Of course not.” Enzo looked tired.

“Then how can you walk in swaggeringly? Why did that old man call you master?”

Enzo raised the mask in his hand: “This is the habit of the Reticent. We share safe hiding places with each other. If a hiding place is temporarily unused, hang the mask at the door, so that the Reticent later will know that as long as he has You can use this place whenever you want.”

Giuliano remembered that when they left the hut in Vanessa’s shack, Enzo had also hung his own mask on the door. “So the real owner of Umbrella Manor is also the Reticent? He or she is away, so you borrow it?”

“It can be said that. However, Umbrella’s ‘real’ master may have died long ago, and the one who left this ring may be just a borrowed guest.”

Enzo looked at the signet ring on his hand, his expression darkened for a moment, but he quickly recovered. All this surprised Giuliano. He never knew that such a wonderful friendship existed between nocturnal killers.

“Are all the Reticents like this?” he asked. “You are friends, though you have never met?”

“Friend?” Enzo raised the corners of his mouth, “More than that. We are all brothers and sisters. Unlike ordinary brothers and sisters, they rely on birth to keep us together. We rely on death. The bond of death is stronger than that of birth.”

He patted Giuliano on the back: “Go take a shower. You smell like corpses.”

Nearly ten days had passed since Enzo had taken Giuliano from the body wagon of the black boatman. They moved around in Yoderland, constantly changing their clothes and mounts to prevent being followed, wearing stars and moons all the way, and they didn’t even care about cleaning themselves. Giuliano also felt that his body stinks, and the smell mixed with the smell of hair dye, forming an indescribable strange smell, which made him want to throw up. He grew up in an aristocratic family and had never been so embarrassed. When Bernard came to announce that the bath water was ready, he was absolutely delighted.

The housekeeper asked two servants to move a large bathtub to “the young master’s room”. Giuliano told them to back off, throw off their rags (stolen from a drying rack on a farm, really) and jump into the tub. After days of running around in exile, Giuliano relaxed wholeheartedly for the first time. He washed off the dust on his body, asked the servant to change the basin of water, and soaked comfortably in the tub again.

The wound on his stomach had healed, leaving an ugly scar. This will not be the last wound on his body. he thought. Since he promised Enzo to learn the art of assassin, the scars on his body will only increase in the future. The healed wound still sometimes hurts, and Giuliano fears that there may be some kind of aftereffect. But Enzo told him no. “That’s because your body remembers the pain. It’s reliving it.” It’s a gross statement, but Giuliano accepts.

The back door opened. Someone walks in.

“Bernard? You came just in time, I think the water is a bit cold.” Giuliano didn’t turn his head.

The footsteps behind stopped, and then there was the rustling sound of undressing. Giuliano turned around, “Enzo? Is that you?”

Enzo was naked and stepped into the tub: “I should teach you the first lesson: Assassins should never leave their backs to the enemy.”

“What are you doing here? I thought it was Bernard.”

“What? The bathtub is so big that it can accommodate two people.”

“I didn’t mean that…” Giuliano curled his lips.

The assassin leaned on the other end of the tub, opposite him. Although the bathtub was large, Enzo was tall, and their legs would still be entangled, which made Giuliano feel awkward. He had been walking with Enzo for a long time, but this was the first time he saw an assassin naked. When wearing clothes, Enzo looks slender and slender, giving a false impression of thinness. After taking off his clothes, he found that his muscles are strong and smooth, and every line seems to have been carefully carved by an artist. But unlike those beautiful marble statues, Enzo’s body is covered with scars: staggered knife wounds, parallel scratches, uneven burns, and some places look like a layer of skin has been torn off. How could he have so many scars?

“What are you looking at?”

Giuliano looked away: “I, I was thinking, do you remember the origin of every scar on your body?”

Enzo sank into the water, letting the water come up to his chin. “Remember.”

“Really? Didn’t think you’d bother to remember that…”

“When you become like me,” Enzo said, “you will remember it too. As the Reticent, every injury you suffer must be unforgettable.”

Giuliano subconsciously clutched the scar on his stomach.

“Does it still hurt?” Enzo asked.

Giuliano shook his head: “It doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s just a faint pain occasionally.”

Enzo leaned forward, took Giuliano’s hand away, and stroked his scar. The assassin’s fingers grazed the sensitive skin around him, making the young man’s stomach tighten. Their positions became odd: Giuliano leaned on the edge of the tub, Enzo straddled him.

“You, what do you want to do?”

The silent gentleman tilted his head, his blond hair brushing the water.

“Get back my long-deserved reward.”

Giuliano swallowed nervously. This day will come sooner or later, but when it does come, he is still reluctant. But he had no room to resist. The reticent examines young people silently, like a fishmonger examining a fish, thinking about where to cut his knife. Suddenly, he leaned over. Giuliano thought he was about to kiss him, and his whole body tensed up in horror. But Enzo’s lips missed his face, and a wet kiss landed on his neck instead.

Giuliano groaned weakly. The assassin sucked his neck and held his cock. In Mrs. Manley’s brothel, Enzo had boasted of his skill. He’s really skilled with his hands. How could the green young man stand up to this kind of teasing, and he let himself go in a short while. He was dizzy with comfort, and Enzo took advantage of the victory to pursue him. With his left hand, he reached into the mysterious cave in the young man’s lower body, and inserted a finger when Giuliano relaxed. The young man took a deep breath, but perhaps because the front was so comfortable, the discomfort and pain in the back eased a lot. Enzo expanded the tight hole with one hand, and wrapped Giuliano tightly with the other, kissing him constantly. Giuliano unconsciously put his arms around Enzo’s neck, moaning like a kitten in his throat.

The young man is very adaptable and opens up very quickly. Enzo withdrew his hand, took his already stiff penis, and broke into Giuliano’s body. Giuliano stared helplessly at the ceiling with his eyes wide open. His body was stretched, filled, repeatedly attacked and plundered. Enzo hugged him tightly, kissing him tenderly while penetrating him forcefully. The water in the bathtub was already cold, and every violent movement would cause icy splashes, but his body was so hot, like a red-hot iron entering cold water to quench it.

He was completely invaded and claimed, and was pushed to the climax again. He didn’t remember much of what happened next, except that he was ashamed, physically uncomfortable, and quite comfortable. He never knew it was such a wonderful experience to open his legs to a man.

The **** from Enzo’s **** filled his body. After the assassin withdrew, he patiently cleaned his back hole, then helped him stand up, and wiped off the water droplets on his body. Giuliano looked at him blankly and let him put him on the bed. The young man was so tired that he didn’t even have the strength to lift a finger. He sank into the soft bed, his naked body surrounded by clean bedding. Enzo lay beside him, kissing him, fondling him. They then did it again. Enzo entered his body from behind, pressed him down and raped him fiercely. He moaned, screamed, cried and begged for mercy from the Silent One, but it was all in vain, until Enzo fulfilled his desire and then pulled out of him. Giuliano’s legs couldn’t close at all, and he could only let the **** that couldn’t hold in his back hole overflow from the hole.

Enzo hugged him, wiped away his tears, and patted his back gently like coaxing a child.

“Why are you crying?” asked the Reticent.

“Do you believe that one day I will kill you?” Giuliano choked up.

Enzo showed his ecstatic smile: “I believe, because you have a good teacher.” He pressed his forehead and said in a voice that only the two of them could hear, “I look forward to that day.”