Albertine was also silently counting the days of his past life.

On this New Year's Eve, he should have been in the conference room on the third floor of the Prohibition Bureau, listening to "Moonlight Sonata" or "The Quiet Waters of the Soro River," passing this long period of time.

But now, he could only stay in his cramped apartment, staring at the night outside the window, with nothing to do.

The only solace might be that bottle of Marvin's treasured Napa Vintage '88, the most precious wine batch from Napa Vineyard, brewed with the best sunshine and rain over the past fifty years.

Even before the Prohibition, it was a rare treasure.

Let alone now.

This wine was countless times better than those bootlegs on the market.

Albertine uncorked the bottle, poured himself a glass, and inhaled the aroma in the cup, but then thought of what Ethan might be doing at this moment.

Previously, Albertine might not have paid much attention to this newly risen Mafia leader.

But after repeated failures, setbacks, and even falling to his current state, he had to admit that this young man, not yet twenty, was a worthy opponent, even one to be reckoned with.

Right now, this guy must be sitting in the grand and bright City Hall, enjoying a dance or dancing a tune with some aristocratic lady.

Of course, Albertine was also keeping an eye on the recent newspapers.

Ethan's name frequently appeared in the news, no longer as negative news, but about his virtuous deeds, his talent, his aid to Saint Kuanti, and his personal affairs.

It was said that he was getting close to the Chief Judge Ned Shire's daughter.

Perhaps, it wouldn't be long before he truly became Ned's son-in-law, slowly turning from black to white, becoming a senator and possibly even a governor.

And what about himself?

Those glorious resumes, those days of making the wind and rain in Red Rock City seemed like a distant past.

Is there really a chance to get back on that stage?

Albertine finished the wine in his glass and suddenly felt a little drunk.

Meanwhile.

Just not far from his apartment building, a car stopped in the dark shadows.

Vincent was sitting in the car, also silently counting the time.

But not his old days past.

Vincent rarely recalled the past, or rather, he didn't like the past at all.

He was just counting the remaining time.

Time until the new year.

He planned to take action at the last moment of the New Year's countdown.

Then the whole city would be immersed in joy, and no one would notice a dismissed Prohibition Agent, like a dead dog, silently collapsed in the shadows.

————————

There was still some time left for the final New Year's countdown.

According to convention, people would count down together in the City Hall, and after welcoming the New Year, they would slowly disperse.

This year was no exception.

Ethan took the chance during the commotion of dancing to go out and have a dance with Anya, then returned to City Hall.

At this time, Sofia finally found him.

However, the dancing session had ended, and now someone was singing a drinking song on stage.

Even though it was the Prohibition Era, drinking songs were a tradition.

Besides, what was said to be drinks in the City Hall today was, in fact, clear to everyone after they tasted it.

They just didn't speak of it.

"Ethan, where did you go just now? I wanted to dance with you, but now it's too late." Sofia teased a little.

He was already quite familiar with Sofia, so this attitude wasn't something new for him to see.

"I'm sorry, I had to step out for a moment. I apologize, how about I have them play another tune, and we dance?"

Ethan said apologetically.

"It's okay, that would be too much trouble for them, maybe next time? There'll always be a chance, right?" Listening to Ethan, Sofia smiled again.

After chatting and laughing for a while, Sofia was called away by Ned, seemingly to toast another big figure.

Ethan didn't follow.

After all, he wasn't quite part of that circle yet.

Turning his head, he happened to see Sandro at the edge of the crowd.

Sandro raised his glass as if inviting him.

So Ethan took his glass and went over.

"It's too noisy inside, let's go to the balcony."

Sandro suggested.

Ethan nodded.

The two left the bustling hall and went to the somewhat chilly balcony.

From the balcony, one could overlook much of the brightly lit Wenster.

Because City Hall was built on a high slope with excellent views.

"Ethan, I don't know why, but looking at you now, I feel like it was ages ago when I first met you," Sandro said, smiling as he looked at the sparkling city.

"But that was just a few months ago."

"Have I changed that much?" Ethan smiled, standing shoulder to shoulder with him, looking at Wenster.

"Or maybe I've grown old." Sandro seemed to sigh, "Actually, I've often had this feeling these past few years, especially after your father passed away. I suddenly realized that there aren't many left from the old group from back then."

"I still have to thank you for extending a hand during the Bolita Clan's most perilous time. I will remember this gratitude for a lifetime." Ethan seemed to answer off-topic, as if trying to settle some debts of gratitude.

"Ethan, you might have misunderstood my meaning." Sandro shook his head, turning to Ethan, his eyes flickering with light, "I wanted to say we've never been enemies. Your father and I were friends for many years, and I have grown old. I have no children, and I've had retirement thoughts for a long time. Wenster is vast, and it's getting bigger and brighter, but ultimately it belongs to your young generation."

Ethan also looked at him but said nothing.

What did Sandro's words mean? Was he admitting defeat?

In a moment when two swordsmen stood facing the wind, clashing in momentum, someone suddenly conceded.

Was it because he sensed there was no chance of winning from the aura?

Or was he driven back by the brilliance of tonight?

"Ethan, the countdown is about to start, come quickly, dad is waiting for you too."

At this moment, the balcony door was pushed open, and Sofia poked her head out, looking at Ethan, shouting.

"Sandro, come along, the New Year is about to arrive." Ethan ended up saying this, turning and heading indoors.

But Sandro didn't immediately go inside. He was still looking at the dazzling city.

There were only a few minutes until the New Year.

In this city, everyone was spending the last moments in their own way.

Virel was drinking in his bar, rubbing the golden scepter in his hand, silently pouring a glass on the ground, like a tribute in a certain direction.

Marvin, on the other hand, was looking at the dark sea, listening to "To the Storm" on the phonograph, seemingly wanting to do something.

Anya, under the faint moonlight, continued her previous absurd dance alone.

Vincent finally stepped out of the car, quietly heading toward Albertine's apartment, with shadows accompanying him.

The last ten seconds of the old year.

Countdown.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Fireworks exploded across the city.

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