CIAO EVERYBODY!

How are you? Everything alright? How did Halloween go? (If you celebrate that, I mean. In Italy it's not that much of a 'thing', but from what I know it is absurdly popular in America and England...!)
I am so sorry for letting you wait for TWO weeks again! But things should be more normal now, I hope I can pick up the pace of a weekly update, but... Why is one week too short, and two weeks too long!? Seriously.

Scaffie's Britishness: LEVEL UP! *ding!*

(And a big 'Thank you!' to all those people who pointed out that my German of the previous chapter was completely wrong. XD I apologise for that - also for any more butchered Spanish or English - being an Italian, I know the annoying feeling of when someone misspells your language all too well...! So again, I apologise, and seeing as I will probably will make only more mistakes in the future, please point them out to me so I can rectify those ^^")

Anyway, seeing as I am personally disappointed of this chapter, I hope you aren't ^^

Soooo...

Please sit back, und ENJOY...!

Arthur briefly explained what had happened to the German detective, whose eyes widened.

"Delisi… did all this…?" He whispered, looking at the Lieutenant in the interrogation room.

The Brit nodded gravely. "Yes, but…" He paused, remembering what Delisi had tried to do to himself, because he had refused to shoot his own Captain. "…I'm not going to be too harsh on him. He was desperate. And also, remember that the Vargas had a hostage to blackmail him."
'He just sold us out to the enemy! He put lives of innocents at risk! He threatened your life! And you're saying not to be too harsh?!' Ludwig wanted to shout at the Brit. What Delisi had done was unforgivable. From Ludwig's original perspective, that man had crossed a line from which you could never return: doing a criminal act marked you as such for the rest of your life.
But this had been his vision before his mission in Italy. Before Italy 'Dimwit' Vargas. Before Gilbert.

Those two had completely overturned his way of seeing things. The solid structure of his thoughts had that foundation, that criminals were criminals and nothing more, nothing less. There was, of course, a wide scale of greys; but no grey would never become white, while the purest of whites could easily corrupt and become grey or even black. And even if you added a small spark of white to a big blotch of black, it would easily be smothered and disappear.

It was that simple.

However, 'Dimwit' had cracked those foundations. He had made the whole structure tremble and shudder. And while he had been futilely trying to patch the walls up again, Gilbert had delivered the final blow by telling him what had happened to him in those fourteen years they were apart.

He internally shuddered.

Now all around him, there was only rubble. The remains of his thoughts, ideals and principles he believed in.

Where was the line between white and the lightest of greys? Had it even ever existed in the first place? And if it had, how could you avoid it? The rubble had covered all of the ground, the thin line was nowhere to be seen anymore, and it troubled him. And once you overstepped that line, was there not turning back, or…-?

"Beilschmidt, are you still there?" the Captain snapped his fingers in front of his face to get his attention, and Ludwig flinched. Ah, he had gotten lost in his thoughts again.

"Ugh. Yes, sir." He grunted, blinking, and then he sneezed.

The Captain scanned him, and frowned. "You ought to get a set of dry clothes, detective. Or else you'll catch a cold."
"Not right now, I have to listen to this." The German said, sniffing. He was definitely going to rebuild from the rubble, and he'd better start now.

Kirkland shrugged. "Suit yourself, I'm going in. Come join us if you fit." He ordered to the operator to start recording, and then opened the door that led to the interrogation room.

As soon as he heard the door opening, Delisi's head snapped up. When he saw who it was, he looked down and turned his head away, eyes narrow in shame.

Arthur felt a cruel hand twist his heart. One of his best men had just tried to kill himself. Just what kind of Captain was he…?

"I… I would never have thought one of my men would land in this room. And most of all, you, Angelo." He murmured, calling the man by his name.

The former Lieutenant flinched at the mention of his name, but didn't say anything, so the Brit continued.

"And out of all people, I would never have guessed you would try to commit suicide."

He took a few steps, and sat in the chair positioned in front of the bound man.

He then took a deep breath, before whispering, "…What happened, Angelo?"

Delisi still refused to look at him, but muttered something under his breath. He spoke so softly Arthur barely heard him.

"…I'm sorry, sir."

The Captain's brow furrowed. "Look at me, Angelo."

The man slowly complied, and looked up. From under jet-black bangs, Arthur could see his light blue eyes. "…I'm so sorry, sir. I failed you." He repeated, voice cracking.

Again, the Brit felt that cruel hand twist his heart. How dare Vargas bend and twist this man's exemplar loyalty?! He had probably done it on purpose. He broke the most loyal of his men, to show him his influence and power. Just like with the cars, it had been an example of just how much Vargas could mess with the police and get away with it. No, obviously, this had been much worse. A few cars' engines could be repaired and replaced. This man's spirit had been broken, and his life and career in the police was going to be ruined, he would probably land in jail.

"Angelo, don't say that." The Captain spoke softly, trying to comfort the former Lieutenant. "You were protecting your sister, I understand."

"I-I was weak, Captain!" Delisi suddenly exclaimed straightening up, their eyes now on the same level. "I'm such a coward, and so weak, that I tried t-to… to escape from it all." He ended the sentence muttering, obviously remembering his suicidal attempt. "I told them as less as I could, I swear I did, I tried to help them as less as possible! That's why they didn't know about detective Beilschmidt or detective Carriedo, but…b-but…! I tried to kill you! That is the worst thing of it all!" he added crying out.

The Captain shook his head, and took a few seconds to answer. "…You're wrong. Angelo, it takes a lot of courage and willpower to remain strong in that kind of situation. I know of strong men that gave up much sooner, almost immediately, without even trying to solve the problem. You didn't give up. You acted to protect your sister, and that is truly admirable. I know for a fact that you are very close to her, and not only her. You are very goof to all of your friends. You help them out a lot – with money matters too. Those friends wouldn't hesitate for a single second before rushing to help you if you just happened to need them. And when those devils ordered you to… to kill me, you didn't even attempt to do that. You made a terrible choice that just any blighter could do, and chose me over yourself. Because you are a good man." He stressed the last sentence by pausing, before resuming talking. "You are the most loyal man I have had the opportunity to meet. Loyal to family, friends and even your superiors. I am forever grateful that I had the chance of working with you. And like they say in Italy: 'When God forged you, He threw away the mould.'"

Arthur noticed that Delisi was just managing to hold back the tears in his eyes.

He smiled softly. "Don't ever say that you are weak, or a coward. Because that would be utter balderdash. What else could I say? Even your name tells everyone who and what you are, Angelo: an angel. More precisely, a Guardian Angel, or as they say here, un Angelo Custode."

"C-Captain…" Delisi sobbed, tears finally rolling down his cheeks. "…Thank you…" He bowed his head again. "I…I want tell you everything. So that they… they will land in jail and pay for everything they've done." The last part was growled, and Arthur knew he was referring to the Vargas twins. "I really do. But…my sister…"

The Captain understood. "Of course, we'll do our best so that she won't be harmed. Do not worry, I'll be extra careful."

"Thank you so much, Captain. A-also… is Beilschmidt here…?" Delisi asked.

Arthur blinked. "Yes, actually. Why…?"

Delisi looked up again but his gaze wasn't locked onto his superior's face, as it was locked on the large mirrored window. The door of the room opened, and a still soaked German treaded into the room, leaving the door open behind him.

"…Hello, Delisi." Ludwig muttered.

The former Lieutenant swallowed visibly. Then, "I am sorry for collaborating with that bomb!" He exclaimed.

After that outburst, the Sicilian man was panting, but one corner of Ludwig's mouth went up, and his glacial gaze softened.

"Don't worry. It's alright. I'll do my best as well." He said softly.

Delisi swallowed again, and turned to look at the Captain. When he spoke again, his voice was trembling, but he spat the last word with force and in disgust, as if it were venomous.

"I'll tell you anything I know, and you better get that on tape. Make sure that they both pay."

Captain Arthur Kirkland nodded solemnly at this, and neither he or the former Lieutenant noticed the detective look away with an uncomfortable expression on his features.

Suddenly, all three of them heard a door slam, and looked at the recording room.

"Captain Kirkland!" a police officer cried out.

"Oh come on, can't you tell when someone's busy?! If not, well, I'm busy!" The Captain groaned, looking at the open door next to the detective. In the doorway appeared the police officer, panting.

"Pray, tell me, what's the kerfuffle about?" Arthur asked, sighing.

The officer caught his breath a little before swallowing and answering. "We caught one of Vargas' men!"

"What? What's his name?" Kirkland raised a bushy eyebrow.

"The Spaniard guy, the one named Saucedo!"

Ludwig facepalmed.

Arthur sighed. "Will you attend to him, Beilschmidt? I'll remain here, if you don't mind."
"Of course, sir. That idiot, he could have warned he was coming here." The German muttered shaking his head. Of course, their operation was undercover, the whole of Palermo, including the police station, thought Antonio was one of Vargas' new buddies just like he had been.

"Well, at least it means he got out of that mansion alive, that's good news." Arthur sighed again.

Indeed, Ludwig thought, it was good news. At least the whole affair with the car hadn't been for nothing.

"Eh? Eh?! What does this mean, Captain?" the officer looked pretty confused, looking back and forth from the Brit to the German..

The Captain groaned. "Beilschmidt…"

"Don't worry, I'll explain everything and get that dope." Ludwig stated, turning towards the doorway.
"And don't forget to get dry clothes!" Arthur shouted after him.

Ludwig nodded grunting, showing he had heard.

The officer stepped back, allowing him passage to exit the interrogation room and closing the door after the tall detective had walked by.

Ludwig, now clad in dry clothes, walked down the corridor that was lined left and right by empty cells, the officer hurrying after him to keep up with his long strides.

"There he is…on the right." The officer panted, pointing. Ludwig had explained to the man that there had been a mistake, but he didn't quite specify what exactly. He didn't need any more people knowing about their identities… that is, if Vargas still hadn't found out about Antonio.

Ludwig came to a halt in front the cell, and observed through the bars what and who was inside. A bare space, with nothing more than a bed – if you could call it that – and a sink in the corner. A man was lying on the 'bed', looking half asleep.

"Antonio, get up." Ludwig sighed, hunching his shoulders, tired, while the officer looked for the right key to open his cell.

"Ludwig!" The man chirped, immediately awake, sitting up with a smile. "There you are, buddy! I'm glad you are okay! I dreaded I would have to sleep in this cell tonight, the bed is horrible, even worse than the hotel's."

"Come on Antonio, this isn't the time for goofing around. Tell me everything that happened." Ludwig frowned when the Spaniard stood up, because he wobbled slightly on his feet. "…Are you alright?" He asked.

Antonio leaned onto the bars while the officer inserted the key into the lock. "Yes, don't worry. But Italians are a lot tougher than what I had given them credit to be." He admitted chuckling a little.

Ludwig noticed a nasty bruise on the Spaniard's left temple. It had already been treated and a big plaster covered it, but a purplish hue could be seen under one of the plaster's edges.

The German's fist tightened, and the officer finally managed to get the door open. The door's hinges squeaked in protest, and the Spaniard walked groggily out of the cell. Ludwig foresaw what was about to happen, and managed to catch his colleague before he could fall face-first to the ground.

"Whoops. Thank you… I guess I still am a little dizzy." He chuckled weakly.

"Damn it Antonio. What did they hit you with, a bulldozer?" Ludwig grunted, helping the Spaniard stay straight like he had helped Gilbert not too long before.

"For all I know, it could have been a plane. Oh, and I got chased by dogs, but that isn't the point." Antonio admitted, as they started walking down the corridor again.

"And what were you thinking, coming here without warning us? Anyway, tell me everything that happened." The German said seriously.

Antonio breathed in sharply, baring his teeth. "Eh, about that… my cover is blown too now."

"What?!"

The Spaniard awkwardly laughed, but Ludwig noticed him glancing nervously at the officer walking in front of them. Antonio suddenly turned serious, and "I'll explain it to you as soon as we get to another place." he whispered to him with a conspirator tone.

Ludwig nodded once to show he had understood, even if he didn't quite understand. Did Antonio want to hide something from the police…? Even from the Captain?

"I…we need to get to the archives, or records, or whatever they're called here." The Spaniard said, voice normal again.

Ludwig got the attention of the police officer. "Could you show us to those?"
"Of course, of course! Follow me." The man quickly answered, intimidated by the German's face.

After Antonio had lost his sense of orientation multiple times because of all the stairs, turns and more stairs, the officer opened the dark archives' room for them.

"Could you leave us alone? This is… top secret work. That's why you didn't know about him." Ludwig quickly told the man, who simply nodded and skipped up the stairs again, leaving them alone.

Antonio leaned against the wall, and coughed once pinching his nose. "Ugh, this room's stuffy…! When was this place last dusted, in the Middle Ages?"

"I agree, the air is indeed foul. Where's the light?" Ludwig asked before closing the door.

The Spaniard felt with his hand around the wall he was leaning on, and found the switch. When the yellow lights turned on, they revealed that the room was extremely wide and tall, with wooden and metallic shelves filling up the place more than an old library. The shelves themselves were completely filled with stacks of paper: some looking old, yellowish and worn, others more recent without much dust on them, some piled up neatly, others messily thrown onto the shelf probably without so much of a glance. Criminals, victims, collaborators, contacts, deceased, suspects, wanted, fugitives, missing… all kinds of people were filed here, that had any kind of connection with the police. There was even a separate kind of shelves for the Vargas: Vargas victims, Vargas contacts, Vargas henchmen suspects, and so on.

Antonio whistled softly. "Whoa. This isn't going to be easy."
"Can you stand on your own now?" Ludwig asked, taking a step forward towards the shelves, turning his back to the Spaniard.

The other detective tested that, by pushing his shoulders off the wall and wobbly keeping his stance. At least he wasn't dizzy anymore. Gee, those officers could hit hard…! "Yup, probably, at least."
Ludwig turned around to face him, the lights behind him making it so that Antonio could barely see his face. "Would you mind telling me what's going on? What happened?!"

The Spaniard swallowed, and started telling.

After five minutes or so, "…And that's why I want to check the archives. I don't like this double-status of that drowned man, Ludwig. What if the police has been wrong all this time? What if we've been wrong all this time?!"

Ludwig leant onto one of the lowest shelves with both hands. "…This… this doesn't make any sense, Antonio…"
"Yes it does!"

"You're suggesting they're som… some kind of vigilantes! Listen to yourself, Antonio! You sound delusional, like a child who's read too many comic books!" He slammed his hand onto a stack of papers, conjuring an enormous cloud of dust that made even Antonio cough. Yet Ludwig didn't move a single centimetre, shoulders hunched defensively, as if expecting an attack.

Antonio gulped, waiting a couple of seconds before answering. "I know that. That's why I wanted to check this place. I have two other names, and if we find them here, and they have another 'innocent victim' status-"

"How do you know that those files weren't fake, hmm?" Ludwig interrupted him, a growl underlining his words. He personally didn't know why he was being like this. Shouldn't this make him feel more relieved? That both twins – Romano and Feliciano were their names – weren't, in fact, bloodthirsty criminal bosses, but taking out the trash, figuratively speaking? Somehow, he couldn't make himself believe this.

"Why would they keep fake documents in a drawer of a room that obviously is important to them, guarded by two locks, a labyrinth of a mansion, plus guards and dogs?!" Antonio retorted.

"Think, Antonio! Who gave you those keys? Braginski. And why exactly is that? Did you ever think about it?" The German snarled.

The Spaniard didn't know how to answer to that for a second. "I-I…" he stuttered, before finding a possible reason. "I don't know, but what I do know is that he didn't sell me out at that party, which would have resulted in a Spanish corpse too many in Palermo in a matter of seconds!"
"He wanted you to find that door?" Ludwig breathed.
"Maybe!" Antonio exclaimed with renewed energy.
"For what!?" The other uttered.
"How should I know?!" The Spaniard retorted. "I thought that maybe, if this 'vigilantes' thing turned out to be true, it would mean that Braginski doesn't like the Vargas, and that he wants them to be caught! Technically speaking, they're still killing people, so they would be thrown in jail anyway."

Ludwig 'tch'ed at this. He didn't know how to reply to that. "It sounds so farfetched, and unreal. This happens in books, not real life…" he whispered to the stacks of paper at his eye level.

"Come on. At least let's find out what these archives have to say about… this Gaetano Cannizzaro, and Vito Puglisi, because I didn't find them anywhere in the files we had. And if we also find Mario Torrisi's on the way, we shouldn't throw that out." Antonio slowly put a hand on the German's shoulder. "Also, while we're at it, tell me what happened while I was inside the Villa. The police station seemed pretty upset about it all."

So they started searching, and it turned out to be quite the challenge. While Ludwig told him about the car accident, about his nearly-drowned brother, and then finally about Delisi, they were both leafing through the ginormous mountains of paper. Also, Italians weren't really that organised with this kind of stuff, apparently, because there seemed to be no criterion about filing the papers. Sure, the shelves were all labelled with what their content was ('Criminals', 'Contacts', etc.), but there appeared to be a complete lack of an alphabetical sorting, or any sorting of any kind. So basically, they were both trying to find two random names under the most recent pile of the enormous 'Vargas Victims' shelf.

Antonio noticed that all the victims he briefly glanced at were declared innocent. Innocent. Innocent citizen. Innocent victim. Innocent. And… innocent.

He found also the Mario Torrisi file, and even if he already knew what it would say, he placed it near Ludwig's suitcase. He barely glanced at the first page, and there it was again.

Innocent.

Oh God, why did this all smell so rotten? Something was definitely missing, but he couldn't place his finger on it. Actually, he had an idea of what it all was about, but he barely even dared to think about it.

"Oh my, Ludwig, it's wonderful! You found your brother, that's amazing!" he said to the blonde when he arrived to that part of his story.

"Let me finish this before saying it's wonderful." Ludwig muttered, briefly looking at a file before putting it on the discarded pile.

Ludwig finished telling his story about what had happened when they were busy with the second Vargas Victims shelf.

"No way… Delisi…?!" Antonio gaped at him.

Ludwig nodded. "Yes. Everyone was shocked as well. That's why the police station was so worked up when you arrived. And I know that my brother is a potential witness for a trial and would considerably help us in this case but…" he paused. "…I was already having doubts myself, and now that you told me that theory of yours, I am less earnest of catching them both. There is so much we don't know, I feel like we're looking at an iceberg."
The Spaniard nodded. "I know what you mean. You see the small top…"
"…But at least 90% of it is hidden underwater." Ludwig finished for him, continuing their search through the files.

Antonio muttered something without really thinking about it. "You know, icebergs are deadly for those who get too close…"

"Shut up, Antonio." Was the snarled reaction.
Antonio immediately fell silent, and only the sound of rustling paper filled the wide room. Until-

"Found Vito!" he exclaimed, holding up the file triumphantly.

"Found Gaetano." Ludwig stated, holding up the file as well.

They both opened up the files at the same time.

"Innocent." They both breathed.

Antonio discarded the file and pulled out his notebook from his trousers' pockets. "But here it says Gaetano is a murderer, while Vito is a blackmailer, and a…ugh, a rapist as well!"

Ludwig remained silent, looking at the file in his hands.

"So you're thinking that all the Vargas Victims…" He let his gaze trail along the four big 'Vargas Victims' shelves, "…are all but innocent…?"

Antonio felt breathless, even if he hadn't run or anything, while he looked at the enormous amount of papers and files. Countless victims. "…Yes."

Ludwig covered his face with one hand, waiting a couple of seconds before speaking. "You think… you think the police is corrupted. That's why you didn't want to talk with that officer nearby…"

The Spaniard shuffled his feet, uncomfortable. "Not… completely… Take the Captain, for 1example!"

Ludwig's eyes widened. "…Antonio. Did you even listen to anything of what I said." He whispered, shock written all over his face.

Antonio blinked, signalling that he didn't understand what he meant.

The German looked, eyes still wide, at the file in his hands. "…Delisi was just ordered to kill Kirkland. By the Vargas."

Antonio gasped, finally getting where this was going.

"Either your theory is wrong…" Ludwig continued whispering. "Or… or the Captain isn't what he appears to be." he practically voiced the Spaniard's ominous thoughts.
They stared at each other, eyes wide, without saying a word, the vastness of the hypothesis sinking in.

"…It can't be, right…?" Ludwig murmured, before a frown appeared on his face. "Wait a second, something doesn't add up. They tried to kill me too, right? I know I haven't done anything wrong…"

Antonio brought his hands up. "H-how should I know…? Like you said, or I am completely wrong, or-"

Suddenly, the door of the archives slammed open with such force it made the nearby shelves waver.

"Lutz! God dammit, it took me forever to find you!" A booming voice yelled out loud, and Antonio noticed Ludwig press a hand against his temple, sighing.

Being on either side of a shelf that was positioned in a parallel line compared with the door, Antonio couldn't see who had just entered, because of a stack of files and papers placed just at his eye level. Was this man, that called Ludwig 'Lutz', the famous brother he had heard of?

The Spaniard's brow furrowed.

Why did that voice sound so familiar…?

The brother walked with long strides towards Ludwig – Antonio could see his legs - , saying "What are you doing in a dusty old place like this?" Antonio heard a sneeze. "This is un-awesomely stuffy, sheesh."

Antonio's head jolted up from observing the brother's feet and legs. Wait a second, he knew only of one person that overused that particular term… but it couldn't be, right?

The Spaniard moved around the shelf and finally had a look of the German's brother.

His eyes became so wide they could probably fall out of their sockets.

A man was talking obnoxiously loud with Ludwig, who seemed just to be bearing the other's presence. The blonde was at least a head taller than the other, but… hadn't Ludwig told him that this was his older brother? It certainly seemed the other way around, also because Ludwig definitely looked more mature and overall bigger.

However, the most striking feature was the man's appearance. A mop of white hair, almost diaphanous skin and milky red eyes. An albino. And even though he had gotten taller, his features had become more squared and his body leaner, he totally reminded him of…

"…Gilbert…?" the Spaniard gaped, breathless.

The albino stopped talking with Ludwig and whipped his head towards his direction. He frowned, while his eyes widened in disbelief.

"No way… Antonio…?"

Ludwig, standing between them, blinked, his blue eyes darting back and forth between the two, not sure about what was about to happen.

"Gil!" Antonio exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air.
"Toni!" Gilbert cried out, also throwing his arms in the air. They both ran to each other for those few metres that separated them and threw themselves in each other's arms, randomly exclaiming things in joy.

Ludwig's jaw dropped. "You two know each other?!" he exclaimed. Oh no, his brain thought, this is a catastrophe. My dumb brother knows the dumb Spaniard! Actually, no, this is worse, so much worse than a catastrophe!

"Mein Gott, Toni, what are you doing here?!"

"I should be the one asking that! I wasn't the one with the Russians, you know!"

"Ugh, touché. Speaking of which, how's francypants? Is he here as well?!"

"Nope, from what I know, he's in Paris. And he owns his very own restaurant now!"
"Seriously?! He seriously succeeded?!"

"Yup!"

"Hold it for one second, you two!" Ludwig interrupted the two's rantings. "You two know each other?!" He repeated.

Gilbert and Antonio released their hug, and the albino patted the Spaniard on the head a little. "Of course we know each other! Lutz, you remember that one time dad had to go to Spain?"
The blonde's eyes narrowed. "Um, yes, you went with him…"
Gilbert grinned broadly. "Well, that's when I met Toni here," he elbowed the Spaniard in the shoulder, "…plus Francis! We had promised each other that we'd see each other again the next year, but-"

"That was in 1961. I get it now." Ludwig finished for him. He looked at the two. They were both smiling widely, eyes twinkling even in that old stuffy room.

"Ludwig, you could have told me that Gilbert was your brother…!" Antonio laughed.

"How was I supposed to know you knew my brother?!" the German defended himself. "And by the way, we have the same last names, idiot!"

Antonio pouted. "He never told me that, otherwise I would have known!"

"Hey hey Lutz! Don't be too harsh on Toni now! I know you are bigger than me and all of that, but I am still your older brother, so you listen to me!" Gilbert stepped in, grinning at the mock-defence he was doing.

Ludwig covered his face with one hand sighing. "Between the two, I am most certain I have more common sense than you do. I always did."
"That's a lie!"
Ludwig cocked an eyebrow, and then brought his hand up, counting on his fingers. "Who got his tongue glued to a frozen lamppost because he wanted to try it out?" the German explained matter-of-factly.

The albino rubbed his head glancing sideways, looking kind of embarrassed. "W-well…"

Two fingers. "And who got chased by dogs all over Berlin after going to the butcher to get a rope of sausages?"

Antonio snickered, and Gilbert had somehow gained a normal skin-colour on his pale cheeks.

Ludwig was still going on, counting on the third tip of his finger now. "Who was convinced that the Krampus-"

"Okay, okay I get it! Stop it already!" the albino interrupted his brother by grabbing his wrist.

Both Ludwig and Antonio smirked, and Gilbert muttered curses under his breath.

The Spaniard slapped a hand onto his childhood friend's back. "Come on, Gilbert, don't get all mopey because of a bit of teasing! This is great, Ludwig! We should celebrate!"

Ludwig blinked. Then, he held up the Vito and Gaetano files. "You already forgot we have a mystery to solve?"

"We could do that while we eat something! Come on, both haven't seen Gilbert for more than ten years, the least we could do is get a drink!" Antonio complained.

Gilbert brought a hand up in the air. "I vote for beer!"
"Dinner sounds better, though…" The Spaniard muttered.

Ludwig sighed, putting the three files in the suitcase. "Gott, now I have to handle not one, but two children. Alright, dinner it is."

"Come oooooon, Lutz! Stop being such a stick in the mud!" Gilbert teased.

Antonio could swear he had seen the blonde's eye twitch for a second, before they all turned in the direction of the door. They left the archives, which were plunged into darkness as soon as the lights switched off and the door closed.

Delisi interrogation, Antonio being a dope, general mindfucks and Toni and Gil reunion...! 8D

So now I am kind of curious... where do you think this is going? I would love to hear your theories!

I know the chapter's end isn't that exciting, but I hope I will manage better in the next one...!

I wish you all a fantastic day, and see you all next time! Ciao ciaooo!

...

When God forged you, He threw away the mould : The mould is a shaped cavity used to give a definite form to fluid or plastic material or a frame on which something may be constructed: so it basically means that a person is unique, because after God forged that person He threw away the mould, and so there will not be another person like that. I don't know if this exists also in English, but it's a saying I particularly like, and there are many variations of it: "They threw away the mould of men like you", "When you were born they threw away the mould", "There aren't any more men made of your mould" and so on. (There is also the saying "He's of old mould" but that should be interpreted like "He's of the old school").

Un Angelo Custode : (italian) A Guardian Angel.

Mein Gott : (german) My God.

Touché : (french) Term used in fencing, means 'Hit'.

Krampus : Krampus is a beast-like creature from the folklore of Alpine countries, mostly Germanic areas. He was thought to punish children during the Yule season (Germanic equivalent of Chrsitmas) who had misbehaved and carry them away to his lair, in contrast with Saint Nicholas, who rewarded well-behaved ones with gifts. He is represented as a beast-like creature, is hairy, usually brown or black, and has the cloven hooves and horns of a goat. His long pointed tongue lolls out. Traditionally, young men would dress up during the first week of December, particularly on the evening of 5th (the eve of Saint Nicholas day), and roam the streets frightening children with rusty chains and bells.