Nomero caressed his short beard and placed a heavy purse in front of him, but this purse is not used to bribe him, but he is bribing the person sitting opposite him.

He was a very fat man. A wide jacket with many stripes seemed to be like a big square box. The man's neck could not be found, and his round chin was completely poked on his chest, as if he had a ball with facial features on it.

Because he was too obese, the person had to breathe. He would make a "hum" sound from his nose without saying a word. It sounded like he had opened and closed the door shaft that squeezed the door.

"This is not OK, huh, I can't promise you, huh, you must know that if this kind of thing is discovered, I will lose my job or even lose my head."

The man seemed to be shaking his head, but he seemed to find that the movement was a bit difficult, so he changed to a light shaking that was almost squeezed by the upper and lower eyelids, leaving only a slit.

"You have to know that if the government has to propose a loan, they can look for a lot of people. If necessary, we can even look for those Jews directly. Although they hate it, at least their money is just gold coins without any other things. Hum."

"You said this very unpleasant," Nomero frowned slightly. "Central, do you think that the loan from us is falling into a conspiracy?"

"Hmph, okay, then I'll make it clear," the fat Florentine's new treasury tried to get himself out of his chair and leaned forward. "We all know who you represent, and what I care about is how to maintain Florence's income and expenditure, and you want to bring the influence of the pope to Florence, but if you think you're going to solve your problem by asking us to issue currency in Florence, I can't agree, hum."

"So how can you agree? We all know that the financial burden of Florence is already very heavy. If you cannot solve this problem quickly, the support of the Florentines will also be reduced. After all, you must prove that you are better than Savonalola."

Nomero frowned slightly. He didn't expect the new fiscal officer to be so stubborn. However, he also knew that although he had received some kind of acquiescence from Sazi, this did not mean that Sazi himself could decide everything. The power of Florence was not Sazi alone.

"We will get through the difficulties," the finance officer did not let him go. He stretched out his heavy finger and pressed it on the purse in front of him, and then pushed it forward. "Listen, huh, what we want is a businessman who can deal with us only on money, not a conspirator who is ready to reach into our city and refuse to leave, huh."

Nomero walked out of the Treasurer's house with an unpleasant look. He saw several people waiting for the Treasurer's reception, and he saw several Jews among these people.

"Sir, what do you mean?" a follower came up and asked in a low voice.

"This is a very stubborn man," Nomero looked back at the house of the Citizen. "But he is very smart, I understand a little bit why Savonalola was eventually overthrown, because he didn't know how to choose a suitable assistant for himself. If this person had served as the Citizen, Florence might not have fallen to its present level."

"But he rejected us, didn't he?" The follower heard what Normelo said.

"Yes, I refused very firmly. He even said that he would rather tolerate Jewish usury than accept our 'good intention'." Nomero smiled self-deprecatingly when he said good intentions.

"What should I do if I do?"

Nomero looked towards the square, and there was still a group of people busying themselves. From time to time, you could see someone walking past the street with a flatbed cart, with stiff feet exposed under the meadow covered above.

"Wait, they still have one big thing they haven't done. Maybe they will become smarter by that time."

After hearing Nomero's words, the follower nodded in understanding. Thinking about it, other things did not seem so important compared to that big event.

Alexander took the plate handed over by Ofulei. The taste of the mutton soup made him a little tired. Although it was a blessing for the soldiers to eat this every day, he was really tired of eating it...

This made him wonder if he should write a letter to James Columbus, who had already gone to Castilla, asking him to find a way to sell spices as soon as possible. However, Alexander also knew that the business was not easy to do. If it were not for items that were constantly consumed, the high price of gold would make spices almost replace gold and become a currency in circulation.

In fact, spices were actually used as currency in some places. The circulation of commodities that returned to the barter method once caused the value of gold and silver to fall continuously, but at that time, some smart people took the opportunity to make a fortune.

Should I take this opportunity to make a fortune? Alexander thought so and then gave up this idea.

This world is too big, and there are too many opportunities to make money. It is impossible to make all opportunities and all the money. If that happens, you will become a person who only pursues wealth and may eventually die out because of wealth.

In today's era, the Fuger family is undoubtedly the most successful businessmen. They have accumulated amazing wealth in a very short period of time, but Fuger's disadvantages are also obvious.

Their wealth now comes from Emperor Maximian, and even many years later they used their wealth to push a new emperor, but because of this, they had to rely on the emperor's power to maintain the prosperity of their family.

When this reliance becomes a backlash one day, the Fuger family will inevitably taste the bitter fruit they had brought.

A soldier ran over and handed over a letter. After opening the letter, he looked at the contents of Alexander and frowned slightly.

"Sir, are you in trouble?" Ofulei knew that the letter was sent from the city. Judging from Alexander's appearance, something might have happened.

"It seems we have got a trip to the city." Alexander stood up. He sat on this stone for the past two days and looked at the city below. No matter how beautiful the scenery is, he would be tired of it after a long time.

"Florence?" Ofulei was a little excited when he looked at the city below.

"Florence," Alexander nodded and looked back at Ofulei. "If you have time, you can visit Botticelli and Overwre, but I think you won't see the greatest one, he shouldn't be in Florence now."

"Sir, are you talking about Leonardo?" Ofulei was a little excited and a little disappointed.

"Yes, Leonardo, that very famous person," Alexander laughed, "but his other name will become more famous in the future."

"What's the name?" Ofulei asked in confusion.

"Leonardo di Piero da Vinci." Alexander turned and looked in the direction of the king on the other side.

There is a small town that is not famous, at least not now, but the town will be world-renowned in centuries.

Because one of the greatest geniuses in human history was once born here.

This town is called Finch Town.

When Mahimo saw Savonalola again, he was no longer in the house behind the town hall, but in the Central Florence prison not far from the town hall.

This is a place where important prisoners are imprisoned. For many years, there are politicians who failed in the struggle and bishops who once had prominent identities. Now Savonalola is locked here in a separate cell near the northeast corner.

Because the terrain of the cell is very high, although the window is not big, it is not blocked from the sun. When Mahimo walked in, he saw Savonalola leaning against the wall where the sun was shining, closing his eyes to let his upper body bathe in the sun.

There were obvious scars on his face, one eye was swollen and could hardly open it, and a tear-open opening on his lips vaguely saw the bloated gums inside.

"Did they hit you?" Maximo asked, then shook his head involuntarily. He felt that it was a bit hypocritical for him to ask.

"To make me admit the crimes I committed," the pain and injuries made Savonalola's voice vague. "Will they execute me publicly?"

"There will be a public trial before this," Mahimo replied coldly at first, then thought about it and squatted down. "You can ask for forgiveness and grace, as long as you are willing to confess your guilt to the Pope and ask for pardon, maybe there is still a chance to survive."

"Are you persuading me to beg for mercy from Alexander VI?" Savonalola was not angry, but just tilted his head calmly at Mahimo. "I may be guilty, but my crime is not pious enough, so I cannot inspire others, and I am indeed afraid. When I heard that I would be sentenced to death, I was afraid, and even when they beat me, I confessed because I couldn't bear it. This is my crime. But if I ask me to ask for forgiveness from Rodrigue Borgia and his accomplices, I would not do this. Do you know that it is true depravity. If I survive, I will be just a soulless body."

"You refuse to ask for forgiveness just because you are afraid of being scolded. You are afraid of death. What you are worried about is this, not your so-called belief," Mahimo stood up and looked at Savonalola coldly. "You care about your reputation more than the people, you are just afraid of others' contempt for you."

Savonalora's head moved, his eyelids raised and looked up at Mahimo standing in front of him, and then smiled.

"Maybe you're right. I care too much about my reputation. For this, I would rather give my life than bow to that Borgia. But isn't this what he wants to see? He wants everyone to know the fate of the enemy of him, and I have fulfilled him."

"Are you really not afraid of death?" Mahimo stared at Savonalora. He hoped to find even a little bit of fear and panic in this person's face. He felt that he needed to discover these to make him feel a little calm in his heart.

Savonalola's swollen face slightly stopped. He seemed to be thinking about something and then his cheeks shook slightly.

"Yes, I'm going to die. I'm actually very scared," Savonalola whispered to himself. "I don't know if I will go to heaven after I die. The crimes they forced me to admit made me feel that I would be sent to hell. But I didn't do anything wrong, right? I just want to know how God will judge my behavior. As for those accusations I was just forced to admit when I couldn't bear the pain."

Maximo looked at the person in front of him silently. He didn't know if he had already obtained the answer, but he knew that he would probably never forget the scene in front of him in his life.

This made Mahimo a little uncomfortable. He never spent time on sentimental things before, but now Savonalora's voice always penetrated into his head with a spell. Even when he saw this man's miserable confession because he couldn't stand the punishment, he could not drive him out of his mind.

On May, the Florentine government announced a public trial of Savonalola.

Although the huge stolen platform piled on the square has already made the result of the trial well known, many people still hope to hear Savonalola himself confess his guilt.

Because only in this way can the riot be proved correct.

The trial was conducted by a single jury team. When the judges in the jury team in their costumes walked into the square and climbed onto the built wooden platform, everyone in the square made a soft "ah" sound.

The judges looked at the crowd in the square with a gloomy expression, and several of them showed a faint look of worry.

"We have to sentence him to death," a judge sitting in the middle said in a low voice. He glanced at both sides from the corner of his eyes. "The trial must be legal, and must be able to withstand the most harsh doubts."

"But those people..." A judge on the left whispered with some concern, "someone will defend him, and others will support him, especially those civilians."

"Believe me, people just want to hear what they are willing to believe, so we just need to let them know what they are interested in."

The Chief Justice whispered to his companion next to him, and then he picked up a heavy stick with a copper head from the table and slapped hard on the table with a "bang".

“As the duty given to us by the fairness and noble Florentians given by God, I hereby declare that this court has the power to judge and judge,” the Chief Justice stood up and announced loudly. “We will listen to the accusations against the prisoners and identify them to finalize whether these allegations are true. Now, bring the prisoner, Giloramo Savonalora!”

With the orders of the Chief Justice, a louder roar was heard in the crowd in the square, and everyone's eyes were cast towards a prison car that had long been noticed.

The black car door opened and a man slowly walked out of the car. Perhaps the sun was too dazzling, he raised his hand to cover it in front of him, and then slowly lowered it.

A face appeared in front of people, and in an instant, a wave-like noise sounded in the entire square.

Maximo felt the slight uneasiness of sitting next to the bishop. He looked at the figure of the man, then closed his eyes.

The judgment is already destined, so what else is worth appreciating?

Maximo suddenly felt a little bored, he vaguely knew what it was.

He didn't want to see that person be judged by such a group of people, and was insulted like a monkey pulled out to exhibit.

When did I start to sympathize with this Savonalora?

Maximo felt a little strange. He looked around and saw a group of nobles discussing the character. He observed them coldly, and couldn't help but smile sarcastically on the corner of his mouth.

These people succumbed to Savonalora when he was in power. They dared not wear luxurious clothes, precious gems, and even at home, because they did not know which servant of their own might inform the people of his words and deeds.

And now they can finally dress neatly in public, or use ridicule and ridicule in front of people to retaliate against the person who had been fearing them before.

Ma Ximo didn't know whether it was a good or a bad thing, but he couldn't calm down. When he listened to the accuser's loud chanting the accuser, he looked up slightly at the sky.

Mahimo was a little confused. He didn't know if it was right to return to Florence. He had even had some revenge in his heart before, Savonalola had ordered him to whip him at this time. The only thing he wanted to know was the answers in his heart that were increasingly confused and confused.

One by one, the crimes were accused. What surprised people was that there was no one around Savonalola who defended him, or that the court had no intention of giving him the opportunity to defend himself from the beginning.

People began to clamor, and some people questioned the justice of the court, but the answer was the rod of expulsion.

Savonalola was silent all the time, neither pleading guilty nor refuting the accusation, and the record of his confession that had been obtained before became evidence to prove his confession.

When the total of 44 crimes were completely recited, the accuser, who was already dry-mouthed, took a deep breath.

"This man's crime is so profound that I even doubt what method he used to deceive everyone's trust. I have reason to doubt that he had obtained some kind of terrible curse and magic from the devil, otherwise how could he deceive everyone so?" The accuser shouted loudly to the judges. "So I ask the fair court to sentence this terrible man as here, and ask the holy bishop sent by the Vatican to identify whether this man has sold his soul to the devil."

When everyone heard the accuser's words, everyone looked at the bishop, and everyone knew that the messenger from the Vatican would be the one who decided the fate of Savonalola.

The bishop slowly stood up, and his eyes did not even look at Savonalola seriously, but instead turned to the crowd in the square.

Maximo's body leaned forward involuntarily. When the bishop spoke, he seemed to feel his heart involuntarily lifting it.

"heresy!"

The voice came from the wooden platform to the crowd, and those who heard the announcement let out a low cry, which was like a rippling ripples on the water surface spreading into the distance.

As the sound reached the edge of the square, several people who had been watching all this silently left quietly.

"Heaven is the power of the devil, so those who possess this power can tempt others," Alexander whispered to himself as he walked, "so when people do crazy things, they always want to describe the person who seduces them as a devil. Because the power of the devil is powerful and irresistible, all the crimes they commit are forgiven because they interpret it as difficult to resist this terrible temptation, but in fact, it is not the heretic and the devil who seduces them to do such a thing, but they are themselves."

Listening to Alexander's words, Nomero, who was walking beside him, his heart pounded, and his eyes couldn't help but glance at Alexander.
Chapter completed!