Chapter 440: Third Parties
Myrta – A Private Residence
Giorno burst through the door of Wincenth’s office with the force of a man who had run through half the city. His boots scraped against the worn stone floor, his breathing sharp and uneven. Behind him, his bodyguard followed at a more measured pace, his massive greatsword still strapped across his back, his eyes scanning the room with practiced wariness.
"Selena’s headquarters was attacked!" Giorno’s voice carried the ragged edge of urgency. "Did you order it?!"
Wincenth didn’t look up. He lifted his teacup, took a slow, deliberate sip, and set it back down with a soft clink. The candlelight caught the polished surface of his mechanical arm as he folded his hands on the desk.
"Accusing me without evidence, Giorno? That’s beneath you."
Giorno’s hands slammed against the desk, the impact rattling the teacup and sending ripples across the surface of the tea. His voice rose, sharp and demanding.
"I told you not to act recklessly! If that dragon traces this back to us—"
"Then we’ll deal with it." Wincenth’s voice was calm, carrying an edge of cold patience. "But I did not order the attack."
A vein pulsed in Giorno’s temple. His fingers curled against the desk, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous murmur.
"Don’t lie to me, Wincenth. You’re the only one with the resources and the motive."
Wincenth reached for his teacup, taking another measured sip before setting it down with deliberate care. When he spoke, his voice was soft as silk, but the weight behind it pressed down on the room like a physical force.
"I am not lying. A direct assault on Selena’s headquarters is reckless and shortsighted. It would accomplish nothing except to put us in the dragon’s crosshairs. I have no interest in drawing his attention before we’re ready."
Giorno’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of doubt passing through them.
"Then who—"
"Someone else." Wincenth’s metal hand flattened against the desk, the soft whir of gears the only sound in the room. "Someone who wants us to fight each other. Someone who benefits from chaos."
Giorno straightened slowly, his hands lifting from the desk. His voice came out quieter, but no less sharp.
"You’re saying this was a setup."
"I’m saying we need to be careful. If we act out of anger, we’ll be playing right into their hands."
Giorno’s fury flickered, then dimmed as he studied Wincenth’s calm face. The cold certainty in the man’s voice was hard to dismiss, and the accusation that had burned so hot in his chest began to cool.
’He’s right. I can’t accuse him without proof, and Wincenth isn’t the type to act without reason.’
Wincenth’s lips twitched into a faint smile, as if he had expected nothing less.
"Have you calmed down? Or would you like some tea first? It’s from the Hein village—excellent quality. Smooth on the throat, and quite effective at helping one think clearly."
Giorno let out a slow, measured breath, his hand lifting from the desk.
"...Fine. I believe you."
Wincenth’s smile widened, a flicker of satisfaction passing through his cold eyes. He reached into his desk, withdrawing a folded parchment and sliding it across the worn wood.
"This is information I obtained from a reliable source. I thought you should see it."
Giorno took the parchment, his eyes scanning the contents. His brow furrowed as he read, his fingers tightening slightly on the edges. He flipped through the pages, his voice carrying a note of sharp disbelief.
"This... is this accurate?"
Wincenth nodded, "It is. I’ve verified it myself."
Giorno ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead as he stared at the document. His voice was quieter now, carrying the weight of reluctant realization.
"I didn’t realize the demons had that much influence here."
Wincenth leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady and cold.
"This city was once lawless. It’s only natural that those with different perspectives would find a foothold here. And I’m almost certain that the attack on Selena’s headquarters was orchestrated by demon agents—meant to drive a wedge between us. Selena will assume the attack came from us, and if we’re not careful, we’ll be exactly where they want us: fighting each other while they pick up the pieces."
Giorno’s jaw tightened, his gaze dropping to the parchment in his hands.
"...Then we need to be smarter than them."
Wincenth’s metal fingers drummed once against the worn wood of his desk. His voice was smooth, carrying the weight of careful calculation.
"That’s precisely why I believe we should strike first. Before the dragon returns."
Giorno’s brow furrowed, a flicker of surprise passing through his sharp features. His voice carried a note of cautious curiosity.
"The dragon isn’t here?"
Wincenth’s smile sharpened, a glint of cold satisfaction passing through his eyes.
"I have reliable information that he left the city with two of his subordinates."
Giorno let out a low, appreciative hum, his fingers drumming against the parchment still in his hand.
"I didn’t realize your intelligence network was that extensive."
Wincenth’s metal fingers stilled. His words were measured, each one chosen with the precision of long experience.
"Information is the foundation of victory. Without it, we’re just swinging blindly in the dark." He paused, his cold gaze meeting Giorno’s. "So. Are you in?"
Giorno’s lips curved into a thin smile. He folded the parchment, tucking it into his coat with a deliberate, measured motion.
"Of course I’m in. This is our chance to take control of this city once and for all." He turned to his bodyguard, his voice sharp and commanding. "Milis. Prepare the Javelin Squad. We’re moving on Selena’s headquarters."
Milis inclined his head, his voice low and steady.
"Understood, my lord."
He turned and slipped out of the room without another word, his footsteps fading into the corridor beyond.
Giorno’s gaze shifted back to Wincenth, his voice dropping to a low, pointed murmur.
"I trust you’ll keep any third parties from interfering?"
Wincenth’s smile widened, a cold, unyielding edge creeping into his voice.
"Don’t worry. If the demons try to interfere, I’ll make sure they regret it."