"Actually, there's no real grudge between us, is there?"
"Is that so?"
Ethan retorted.
"It was Lewis who kept coming after you. Honestly, I didn't like him either, and now that he's dead, all those problems are gone," Albertine said casually, as if Lewis wasn't actually with the Prohibition Bureau.
"What about the alcohol? Aren't you enforcing prohibition anymore?"
"Ethan, you've misunderstood one thing. The Prohibition is never about completely banning all alcohol. What we want is relative prohibition. The question is how to achieve that. We need someone who can unite us all and work with us, but right now... it's not possible."
Albertine wiped the glass with his hand, clearing a corner, and pointed outside. In the distance, there was the ocean.
At the ocean's end was that solitary castle.
"Your underworld saint, Sandro, refuses to cooperate with us."
"So what are you suggesting?"
