I Classici Del Fumetto Nr 01 Corto Maltese Apr 2026

Corto pulls his line from the water. On the hook is not a fish, but a single silver coin – a 1921 lira – that he had lost in Venice two months earlier.

The promise of the impossible is Corto’s only true addiction. He tosses a coin to the owner. “Find me a junk. And a reason not to throw you overboard halfway there, Cossack.”

Corto sits on a dock, fishing. Achille is beside him, drawing the cave in a notebook.

Corto crumples the letter and tosses it into the water. “The Cossack has nine lives. Like a cat. A very large, very stupid, very treacherous cat.” I Classici del Fumetto Nr 01 Corto Maltese

But somewhere, on the other side of the world, a magnetic mountain sleeps. And a dead U-boat dreams of the sky.

Inside the cave, the U-boat rests on a cradle of petrified giant clams. Its hull is scarred, but intact. And in the conning tower, embedded like a dark heart, is the : a sphere of rotating rings and mercury-filled glass tubes, crackling with silent blue lightning.

“Don’t touch it!” shouts Tawaret. “The field will reverse! It will throw us all into the sea!” Corto pulls his line from the water

Next issue: I Classici del Fumetto Nr. 02 – “Corto Maltese and the Cobalt Cipher of the Inca”

Rasputin slaps a stained nautical chart onto the table. It depicts the Sulu Sea, with a strange, hand-drawn circle around a place that doesn’t exist: – Island of the Magnetic Moon.

Corto raises an eyebrow. “The war is over, old friend. Let the Kaiser keep his rust.” He tosses a coin to the owner

His name is Corto Maltese. And he is already late for an appointment with destiny.

Corto’s smile fades. He looks at the Cossack, who is busy sharpening his knife at the bow, humming a melancholic Ukrainian lullaby. “Of course he does,” Corto sighs.