《The Tyrant Billionaire》 Chapter 1: Awakening The Battle of Iwo Jima, a brutal turning point in the Pacific War, raged from February 19 to March 26, 1945. The relentless fighting transformed the island into a wasteland of ash and blood. Amid the chaos, U.S. forces suffered over 6,800 fatalities and nearly 22,000 injuries. On the other side, the Japanese garrison lost over 22,000 soldiers, with only a handful surrendering. Sergeant Jon Hardy of the Marine Corps was no stranger to the carnage. A 24-year-old hardened by years of combat, he led his squad in a critical assault when a bullet tore into his chest. Darkness closed in. When he awoke, it wasn''t in the muddy trenches of Iwo Jima, but aboard a hospital ship, his body bandaged and aching. But there was something else¡ªsomething he couldn''t explain. He wasn''t just Jon Hardy anymore. Another soul had merged with his, from a time and place far beyond the war-torn world he knew. Born in 1921, Jon had been an orphan with nothing but grit and a high school education. Five years in the military had shaped him into a man of resolve. Now, his mind housed two identities, one from his own time and another from a future filled with fragmented memories of battles not yet fought, technologies not yet invented, and a different world altogether. Confusion threatened to consume him, but Jon had learned long ago to keep his head down and adapt. For now, he would play the part of the wounded soldier. Nurse Katherine, a young woman with bright eyes and a steady hand, tended to him. She stood out among the other nurses, her gentle touch and warm demeanor making the sterile ship feel almost human. "You''re healing faster than most," Katherine noted as she applied fresh bandages, a hint of admiration in her voice. "You''ll be up and about before the rest of the boys." "Thank you," Jon replied, watching her work. He had noticed it too¡ªhis recovery was nothing short of miraculous. Deep wounds that should have taken weeks to heal were closing within days, scabs forming almost overnight. He didn''t know if it was the war-hardened body or the result of the soul that now shared it, but he decided to keep this newfound resilience to himself. The ship, crowded with injured soldiers, sailed toward Pearl Harbor. Jon''s rapid healing was both a blessing and a burden, as it reminded him of the strange fusion that had taken place. The dizziness and mental fog that accompanied this dual existence left him restless. Seeking help, he spoke to the ship''s medical staff, describing vague symptoms of disorientation. "Sounds like you''ve got a case of combat fatigue," the doctor had said, writing him off with a few sedatives and a recommendation for rest once they reached Hawaii. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Despite the crowded ship and constant noise, Jon found solace in helping Katherine during his downtime. He assisted with small tasks, grateful for the distraction. As the days passed, he became a familiar presence among the wounded, offering quiet support when needed. After nearly two weeks at sea, the ship docked at Pearl Harbor. Jon underwent a brief medical examination, where the doctors marveled at his recovery but paid little attention in the rush of incoming casualties. Following the doctor''s orders, Jon reported to the psychiatric department, where he was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. It was a convenient diagnosis, one that allowed him to avoid returning to the front lines. His desire to escape the horrors of war outweighed any sense of duty. During his stay, Jon''s bond with Katherine grew. She was a constant in his life, her light-hearted smile and quick wit a welcome contrast to the grim reality around them. One evening, after weeks of quiet flirtation, Jon asked her to dinner. They strolled along the beaches of Honolulu, the moonlight casting soft shadows on the sand. The night ended in a hotel room, where the lines between companionship and something deeper blurred. The next morning, Jon stared at himself in the mirror. His reflection was that of a man forged in battle¡ªa body chiseled from years of combat, with piercing eyes that held the weight of two lives. He now understood why Katherine had been drawn to him. There was something undeniable about the way he carried himself, a quiet confidence that came from surviving the impossible. For the next month, they continued their rendezvous, their connection growing stronger. Katherine, ever the professional, maintained her duties, but whenever they found time together, the weight of the war lifted, if only for a few hours. But all good things come to an end. One day, a lieutenant approached Jon with orders. "Sergeant Hardy, you''ve been cleared for active duty." Jon didn''t hesitate. "I''m done with the war." He saw no reason to risk his life again. With a future he couldn''t fully comprehend and a body that healed unnaturally fast, he had bigger plans than returning to the battlefield. He played up his PTSD symptoms during his next psychiatric visit, and the doctor signed off on his discharge. With a modest pension and a commendation for his service, Jon bid farewell to Katherine. She had become a part of his strange, new life, but he knew they were headed down different paths. His next destination: Los Angeles, a city where opportunity and danger often walked hand in hand. As the ship sailed toward the mainland, Jon began to notice subtle differences in the world around him. Some details from his future memories clashed with reality. For instance, Harry S. Truman should have been president, yet an elderly man named Johnson held office. And then there were the strange headlines¡ªVito Corleone celebrating his daughter''s wedding, Al Capone''s legal battles, and Nucky Thompson facing charges. These were names from fiction, from stories he remembered. Yet here they were, playing out in front of him like reality had merged with fantasy. Jon''s grip on this new world tightened. If stories and history were intertwined, then perhaps the future wasn''t as set in stone as he once believed. Upon arriving in Los Angeles, Jon rented a small apartment in Orange County and found work as a bartender. He kept to a strict routine, waking early for morning runs and spending his afternoons at a local boxing gym, honing his body further. His rapid healing allowed him to push harder than most, and before long, he became one of the gym''s top fighters. Chapter 2 Bill Pitt "Afternoon, Jon." "Hey there, Sunny." At the doorway of the tavern where they both worked, Jon bumped into Sunny, another recent hire. She greeted him warmly with a bright smile. They had been colleagues for about three months now and had grown quite close. Sunny, with her French heritage evident in her chestnut-brown hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, wasn''t strikingly beautiful but had a youthful charm at 19. They stepped inside, changed into their work attire, and began tidying up the place. The afternoon shift was usually quiet, but as the sun set, the crowd grew, filling the tavern with noise and activity. The tavern was a melting pot, hosting both decent folks and some less savory characters. One of the latter, clearly drunk, spotted Sunny as she walked by and brazenly pulled her onto his lap, causing her to let out a startled scream. The other patrons noticed but merely chuckled or looked on with indifferent curiosity. Hardy, who had been watching from the bar, caught the eye of the tavern owner. The owner, preoccupied with serving customers, seemed intentionally oblivious to what was happening. Having worked there for a few months, Hardy knew the owner lacked a spine when it came to trouble. But Hardy couldn''t just stand by and watch Sunny being humiliated. Although he doubted the drunkard would take things too far in such a public setting, his actions were already disrespectful and degrading. Hardy strode over, took hold of Sunny''s arm, and gently pulled her away from the man''s grasp. "Go to the back," he told her calmly. Relieved, Sunny gave Hardy a thankful glance and quickly disappeared into the kitchen. The drunk, feeling humiliated in front of everyone, glared at Hardy with anger. "What''s your problem, kid? You want trouble?" Hardy remained calm. "This is a tavern, not a place for that kind of behavior. If you''re looking for something else, you''re in the wrong place." A few onlookers chuckled at Hardy''s words. Embarrassed and angry, the drunkard thought the laughter was directed at him. He grabbed a mug of beer and hurled it at Hardy. Hardy sidestepped quickly, only getting a few drops on his shirt. He turned to walk away, but the drunk wasn''t done. Enraged, he slammed the mug down on the table, shattering it, the noise drawing even more attention. Hardy stopped and turned back to face him. The drunk smirked, trying to bait him into a fight. The crowd watched with keen interest, treating the unfolding drama as free entertainment. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. A surge of anger welled up inside Hardy. His time in this rough world had changed him. His once calm demeanor had been replaced by a more confrontational attitude. Hardy''s eyes locked onto the drunkard, his gaze turning cold and steely. The man, catching the look in Hardy''s eyes, hesitated. There was a predatory sharpness in Hardy''s stare, a warning of danger, like a wolf ready to pounce. But pride and alcohol dulled the man''s caution. "What are you looking at?" he sneered and swung a punch at Hardy. Hardy moved faster, his fist connecting with the man''s chin with a solid crack, sending him sprawling to the floor. Not giving the man a chance to recover, Hardy was on him in an instant, pinning him down with a knee and gripping his shirt with one hand. With his free hand, he began delivering a series of punches to the man''s face. Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! The man''s struggles weakened with each blow until he lay still, groaning. The tavern owner rushed over, pulling Hardy back. "Jon, stop! You''ll kill him!" The regulars stared in shock. They had never seen the usually quiet Hardy explode with such violence. If the owner hadn''t intervened, he might have beaten the man to death. The police arrived shortly after. The drunk was sent to the hospital, while Hardy was taken into custody. He was charged with assault and awaited a court hearing. A week later, Hardy found himself in front of a judge. His lawyer presented evidence, including a psychological evaluation and testimonies from witnesses like Sunny. The judge ruled in Hardy''s favor, ordering him to pay $350 in compensation, given the circumstances leading to the altercation. After paying legal fees and the fine, Hardy''s savings were gone. He even had to sell some of his possessions, including his old Colt revolver. He found himself broke and out of work; the tavern owner didn''t want any more trouble and had let him go. Word of the incident spread quickly in their small town, making it impossible for Hardy to find new employment. Everyone knew about the fight and his supposed "issues," and no one wanted to take a risk by hiring him. Returning to his modest apartment, Hardy was surprised to find Sunny waiting outside his door. "Jon, I wanted to thank you again for what you did," Sunny said softly. "I''ve decided to quit the tavern too. I''m leaving town." "Where are you headed?" Hardy asked. "I''ve saved up a little money. I''m going to go study," she replied. "You''re still young; it''s a good idea. What do you want to study?" "Law. I want to become a lawyer or maybe even a judge someday. Seeing what happened at the tavern, it made me realize how important justice is." "That''s a noble goal. I wish you the best of luck," Hardy said sincerely. Sunny stepped closer, giving Hardy a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you again, Jon. Take care." "Take care, Sunny." As she walked away, Hardy watched her go, wondering if their paths would ever cross again. People often come and go in life, sometimes never to return. Lying on his bed that night, Hardy pondered his future. Staying in town was no longer an option. Just then, the landlord called up to him from downstairs. "Hardy, there''s a phone call for you!" Surprised, Hardy went down and took the call. It was Bill, an old army buddy. Bill had been Hardy''s closest friend during his service, a bond forged in the heat of battle. Hardy had even saved Bill''s life once, and Bill had retired a year earlier due to an injury. Bill was enthusiastic on the line. "Hey, Jon! I just heard about what happened. Found your number and had to call. How''s life treating you?" "Not great," Hardy admitted, explaining his current situation. Bill laughed. "No worries, man. Come out to Los Angeles. There are plenty of opportunities out here." ... Stepping off the long-distance bus with his suitcase, Hardy was greeted by Bill stepping out of a Ford. They embraced warmly. "It''s been a while, hasn''t it?" Bill said, grinning. "Yeah, almost two years. You''ve put on some weight," Hardy replied, taking in his friend''s appearance. Bill looked just as he remembered¡ªdark blonde hair, clear blue eyes, a bit of stubble, and a slightly chubby yet strong build. "I''m buff, not fat," Bill laughed and retorted. Throwing Hardy''s suitcase into the backseat, Bill gestured toward the car. "Hop in. Let''s grab a drink and catch up. You''re in for an adventure here." Chapter 3 Bill Was Shot. A sleek car rolled to a stop outside a lively bar adorned with neon lights shaped like a mischievous bunny girl. The sign read "Bunny Bar." Hardy and Bill stepped inside, and Hardy instantly noticed the place was more energetic than any of the taverns he had frequented in his hometown. The dim lighting created a smoky ambiance, jazz music flowed through the air, scantily clad women danced around, voices filled the room, and the unmistakable scent of marijuana lingered. All the women were dressed in playful bunny outfits: tight-fitting bikinis that emphasized their curves, stockings stretched over long legs, tall bunny ears¡ªone upright and the other flopped over¡ªand fluffy tails bobbing behind them. A charming bunny girl approached them with a bright smile. "Bill, what''ll it be today?" "Start us off with two beers," Bill replied, giving her a light, teasing pat on the backside. She giggled and exchanged a few playful remarks with him before heading off. The beers soon arrived, and Bill and Hardy clinked their glasses together, taking generous sips. Their conversation flowed from their past military service to their present situations. "You joined a gang?" Hardy asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. Bill gave a casual shrug. "When I got out of the army, all I got was a measly few hundred bucks in pension. You know I''ve got a big family to support¡ªparents and five siblings. That money didn''t go far." "I tried making an honest living," Bill continued. "Worked in factories, took on odd jobs in stores, washed cars, even drove transport. But the pay was barely enough to scrape by. And with inflation going through the roof and wages getting slashed by greedy bosses, it wasn''t cutting it. The papers claim the economy''s booming, but they don''t talk about the unemployment rate sky-high." Hardy leaned in closer. "So what exactly do you do now?" Bill smirked. "I deliver booze, collect debts, keep the peace." He explained how the gang ran underground casinos and loan companies, all needing muscle for debt collection. They also ran a private liquor business, supplying bars and nightclubs across the neighborhood. "This place," Bill gestured around, "is under my watch." Hardy began to understand why everyone seemed to know Bill. They clinked their glasses again. Bill looked Hardy in the eye and proposed, "Jon, why not join me? With your smarts and skills, we could make a real name for ourselves." Hardy shook his head slowly. He wasn''t interested in joining a gang. In his past life, he had climbed the ladder of success only to be brought down by treachery. Now, with the memories and foresight of decades beyond this world, he believed he could strike it rich if he chose the right path. But the criminal underworld was not the path he wanted. "I''m thinking of finding something stable," Hardy said. Bill didn''t push the issue further, just shrugged and said, "Alright. You can crash at my place for now." He handed Hardy a stack of bills, easily over a hundred dollars. "Use this," Bill said. "You''ll need a decent suit for interviews, and it''s getting cold. Grab yourself a good coat too." The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Hardy, nearly broke with only a few dollars to his name, didn''t refuse Bill''s generosity and pocketed the money. Seeing Hardy accept the cash, Bill smiled warmly. They continued to drink and chat well into the night, sharing stories and laughs until the rain started to drizzle outside and the temperature dropped. They drove back to Bill''s apartment. Once there, Bill showed Hardy to a guest room and pointed out the bathroom. Hardy enjoyed a hot bath, then emerged, drying his hair. Bill motioned him over to the living room, where he slid the sofa aside to reveal a hidden compartment. "Jon, there are two guns here," Bill said, pulling out a couple of Colt M1911s along with some extra magazines. "Help yourself if you need one." Hardy recognized the guns immediately. He''d used a Colt M1911 during his service; the feel of it was second nature to him. "I''m looking for a legit job. I don''t think I''ll need a gun," Hardy replied. Bill gave a noncommittal shrug. "You never know." They poured another round of drinks and continued talking late into the night. The next morning, Bill and Hardy went their separate ways. Hardy dressed in his newly bought suit and coat, feeling more refreshed and presentable. He picked up a newspaper and started scanning the job listings¡ªfactory workers, accountants, drivers, hotel staff, laborers... None seemed right. Either the pay was too low, or the positions didn''t match his skills or aspirations. He tried several recruitment agencies, but as Bill had warned, despite appearances of a booming economy, jobs were scarce. Most places just had him fill out a form, only to never follow up. That evening, he returned to Bill''s place. When asked how the job hunt went, Hardy could only sigh. "Not great. Too many job seekers, and I don''t have the right qualifications or skills. It''s tough out there." Bill offered some words of encouragement. "It''s just the start, don''t lose hope." Days passed in much the same way. Bill went about his own business, while Hardy continued his fruitless search for employment. He refused to settle for factory work, believing it offered no future and didn''t align with his goals. Yet, the jobs with potential were elusive. One morning, Bill left with a grin. "I''m off to collect a big debt¡ªfive grand. If I get it back, we each get a cut. We''ll have a feast tonight." Five hundred dollars¡ªa substantial amount, equivalent to a couple of months'' salary in those days. Bill left, and Hardy resumed his search. By noon, he bought a hot dog and a cup of tea, sitting on a bench to eat. The rest of the afternoon was spent looking for job openings, but again, no luck. Returning to Bill''s apartment late in the afternoon, Hardy sensed something was off. His instincts kicked in¡ªdanger. As he turned to leave, the door slammed shut behind him, and a gun barrel was shoved into his face. Two men in suits were inside. One stood in front of him, pointing a revolver at Hardy''s head from a couple of feet away. The other was by the bedroom door, hands casually in his pockets, ready to draw his weapon. "Don''t move," the man with the revolver growled. Hardy''s mind raced. Was this a robbery? A setup? Or were these enemies of Bill''s? "Who are you?" Hardy demanded. The man with the revolver stepped closer, the barrel now just inches from Hardy''s head. Hardy reacted swiftly. With a sharp pivot, he dodged the muzzle, lunged forward, and seized the man''s revolver with both hands. The man was caught off guard, but before he could react, Hardy twisted the gun free from his grip. The second man fumbled to draw his own weapon, but Hardy was quicker. He spun, grabbed the first man by the neck with his left arm, and pressed the revolver against his temple. "Don''t move, or I''ll blow his brains out!" Hardy shouted. The man in his grasp froze, eyes wide with terror. The second man, clearly shaken, hesitated, unsure of his next move. He kept his gun aimed at Hardy, but the tables had turned dramatically. "Drop your gun!" Hardy ordered, pressing the revolver harder against his captive''s skull. The man by the bedroom door hesitated. "Let him go!" "Not until you drop your gun!" Hardy retorted. The tension was palpable. The man in Hardy''s grip was visibly trembling, while the other hesitated, teeth clenched. "Why are you here? What do you want?" Hardy demanded. The man in his hold hesitated before blurting out, "Wait! Are you Hardy? Bill told us a friend named Hardy was staying here." Hardy didn''t lower the gun. "This is Bill''s place, yeah. But why the hell are you sneaking around here?" Realization dawned on the men, and they both relaxed slightly. "We''re Bill''s associates," the second man explained, still cautious. "We didn''t mean to startle you. This is just a big misunderstanding." Chapter 4 Taking revenge for a brother After the misunderstandings was resolved Hardy finally understood who the two men in front of him were. The one he had just overpowered was Sean, and the man standing near the bedroom door was Reid. Both were associates of Bill. "What happened to Bill?" Hardy demanded urgently, his concern evident after learning about Bill''s injuries. "When we left, Bill was still in surgery. Things weren''t looking good. We grabbed some stuff he needed, and now we''re heading back. Let''s discuss the details in the car," Sean suggested. Hardy nodded and followed them to the car without hesitation. Reid took the driver''s seat while Sean and Hardy sat in the back. As they drove, Sean explained that Bill had been shot three times and was currently undergoing emergency surgery in a private clinic. His condition was dire. Earlier that day, they had gone to confront Cook, a Spanish gang leader who operated within the Austrian gang''s territory. Although the Austrian gang avoided dealing with drugs, there was always a market for them. An arrangement had been made for the Spanish gang to sell within their area, with a cut of the profits going to the Austrians. Cook was responsible for sales in Bill''s area and had a small crew of five or six men. Bill, along with Sean and Reid, had gone to collect payment from Cook. However, Cook was evasive and seemed to be stalling. When Bill pushed him, Cook suddenly drew a firearm and opened fire, hitting Bill multiple times. A gunfight ensued, but Cook and his men managed to escape. Sean, Reid, and the rest of Bill''s team rushed him to the clinic. "Before all this, we found out Cook had lost a significant sum¡ªabout ten thousand dollars¡ªat an underground casino a couple of weeks ago. He likely lost his earnings and couldn''t come up with the money," Sean explained. Reid, keeping his eyes on the road, added, "I bet Cook was on something. His actions were erratic, like he was high. That would explain why he acted so recklessly." Hardy recalled a conversation with Bill earlier that day about collecting a significant payment¡ªfive thousand dollars. It was probably related to this incident. Things had certainly gone south fast. The car arrived at the clinic soon after. Inside, Sean flagged down a nurse. "Excuse me, miss, how''s Bill?" "The doctor is still operating, trying to remove the bullets. He''s lost a lot of blood. It''s touch and go," the nurse replied, her face tense. They waited in the hallway for what felt like an eternity. After about thirty minutes, the operating room doors swung open, and a middle-aged doctor, accompanied by two nurses, wheeled a gurney out. Bill lay on it, unconscious and ghostly pale. "Dr. Murphy, how is he?" Sean asked anxiously. The doctor adjusted his glasses, his expression grave. "We managed to remove the bullets and stabilize his wounds, but he''s lost a lot of blood. His chances of survival are slim¡ªmaybe thirty percent, at best." "I''ve done all I can. Now, it''s up to fate," Dr. Murphy added. Hardy stared at his friend, his heart sinking. Bill, who had been his comrade for three years, lay at death''s door. They had fought side by side through thick and thin. Hardy had convinced himself to come to Los Angeles for a better life, and now his best friend was fighting for his life because of someone else''s greed. The nurse, noticing the three men lingering, sternly said, "You should leave now. You can''t help here, and you might contaminate the room." A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Reluctantly, they exited the room. Outside, Sean offered Hardy a cigarette. "Do you know where Cook lives?" Hardy asked, lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag. "Yes, it''s at 43-79 Brown Street, a two-story place," Sean answered. Hardy took another drag. "And what does he look like?" "Bald, in his forties. You''ll know him when you see him," Reid replied, eyeing Hardy curiously. "Why do you want to know?" Hardy didn''t bother explaining. After finishing their cigarettes, Sean spoke again. "We need to report to the boss about Bill. What about you, Hardy?" "You go ahead. I''ll stay here with Bill," Hardy responded. Sean and Reid left, driving off into the night. Darkness had fully descended, and the city was alive with lights. A cool breeze swept across Hardy''s face as he walked back to Bill''s room. The nurse had left, leaving Bill lying silently on the bed, his breathing shallow and uneven. Hardy approached the bed and softly patted Bill''s cheek. "Hang in there, Bill. You''ve survived ??tougher battles; don''t let a thug like Cook take you out." He leaned in closer, whispering, "Rest now, brother. I''ll handle the rest. They''ll pay for this." Hardy quickly hailed a taxi back to Bill''s apartment. Once inside, he moved the sofa aside, revealing two Colt M1911 pistols hidden underneath. He loaded the magazines, cocked the slides back, and checked the chambers. Click. The guns were ready. He placed them on the coffee table and turned off the lights. Hardy sat in the darkness, the old clock ticking away the seconds. Ding dong. The clock struck twelve. It was midnight. Hardy stood, tucking the two pistols into his waistband. He also grabbed two spare magazines, slipping them into his pockets. He picked a hat from the rack, pulled it low over his face, and stepped out into the night. Brown Street was quiet, shadows dancing in the dim streetlights. Hardy watched the small building from across the street. It was 1:30 a.m., and the neighborhood was dead silent. He approached the backyard fence, easily leaping over it and landing softly on the lawn. He tested the back door¡ªunlocked. He carefully opened a window and climbed inside, landing silently by the kitchen stove. Moving through the kitchen, he paused, listening to the heavy snores coming from deeper inside the house. He continued forward, reaching the living room. The faint glow of a lamp revealed the room was empty. He unlocked the front door latch for a quick exit, then hung his hat on the coat rack. Drawing both pistols, he disengaged the safeties and moved toward one of the bedrooms. Inside, a man slept soundly. Hardy took aim. Bang! A single shot to the head, and the man was dead. The gunshot woke the others. Several men burst out of their rooms, guns drawn, only to be met by Hardy''s barrage of bullets. Bam bam bam! Bam bam bam bam! Four men fell, blood pooling beneath them. None of them were bald¡ªCook wasn''t among them. Then, Hardy heard a faint sound from upstairs, and his instincts kicked in. He dropped to the floor just in time. Bang! A shotgun blast tore through the wall where he had just been standing, spraying debris everywhere. Cook had been sleeping upstairs. He was always on edge, with many enemies after him. The gunfire downstairs woke him, and he had grabbed his Winchester M1887 lever-action shotgun¡ªa powerful weapon from the Wild West days. He chambered a round and rushed out, spotting a figure through the stairwell gap. He fired immediately, but cursed as Hardy dodged the shot. "I''ll kill you!" Cook shouted, firing again. Bam! Bang! Cook descended the stairs, his shotgun booming. Hardy was pinned down, struggling to find an opening. Hardy glanced at one of the bodies on the floor. He grabbed it and hurled it out. Cook saw movement and fired. Bang! The shotgun blast tore through the body, splattering blood and gore. With Cook momentarily distracted, Hardy seized his chance. He rolled out from cover, firing several shots at the staircase. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! "Aargh!" A scream of pain. Cook was hit twice¡ªonce in the stomach, once in the arm. He fell, his shotgun clattering down the stairs. Hardy approached, guns raised. Cook, bleeding and desperate, saw him clearly for the first time¡ªa young man with cold, unforgiving eyes. "Please, don''t kill me!" Cook begged, clutching his wounds. Hardy stared at him with contempt. "Bill Pitt sends his regards." Realization dawned on Cook''s face. "I''ll give you money, everything I have¡ª" Bang! Hardy ended it with a single shot to the head. He had no interest in bargaining. Blood was everywhere¡ªin the hallway, on the walls, and down the stairs. Six bodies lay scattered, the scene resembling a battlefield. Hardy felt no remorse. The fight had only heightened his adrenaline, leaving him feeling strangely alive. In the last six months, Hardy''s soul had fully merged with that of Jon Hardy, a man who had seen real combat and bloodshed. This was just another skirmish. He searched Cook''s room, rifling through drawers until he found a stack of cash. Chapter 5 The Vendetta Begin $10, $20, $50, $100. Hardy rifled through the assorted old bills¡ªsome wrinkled and faded, others surprisingly intact. He estimated there was close to $5,000 here, probably from Cook''s dirty dealings, most likely drug money. He quickly shoved the cash into his coat pocket. His search continued, and in the back of a cabinet, Hardy found a small, finely crafted box. Opening it revealed a gleaming gold watch¡ªRolex, no less. This particular model was brand new, released only recently in 1945. Crafted entirely from gold, from the casing to the bracelet, it was the first of its kind. Rumor had it this watch was worth over $1,500¡ªa real status symbol. Hardy had heard some guy bragging about the watch in a bar just a few nights ago. He knew instantly what it was when he saw it. The watch was still pristine, nestled in its original packaging. Clearly, Cook hadn''t had the chance¡ªor the nerve¡ªto wear it yet. Hardy figured he could use a new watch. The cash would go to Bill, but this little gem? That was his reward for the evening''s work. He pocketed the watch and took a quick glance around. The noise he''d caused was bound to attract attention. Someone would call the cops, and they''d be here soon. He tucked the gun into his waistband, swiftly made his way downstairs, grabbed his hat from the rack, pulled the brim low over his eyes, and stepped out the front door. He slipped under the glow of a streetlamp and vanished into the night. Fifteen minutes later, a police car arrived with its sirens blaring. Three officers emerged, cautiously approaching the villa''s gate, their guns drawn and ready. Pushing through the gate, they were greeted by a grisly scene. Blood was everywhere; bodies littered the floor. Bullet holes peppered the walls, clear signs of a fierce shootout. "Get the FBI on the line. We''ve got a major crime scene here!" one officer barked. By the time the FBI agents arrived, a crowd of reporters had already gathered outside, snapping pictures of the carnage within. FBI agents conducted a thorough investigation, concluding that there was likely a single shooter. But beyond that, they found little else to go on¡ªno fingerprints, no shell casings, nothing. Neighbors were no help either; it was past 1 a.m., and most were fast asleep. 3:30 a.m. The authorities removed the bodies and labeled the incident a Level One Major Homicide before leaving the scene. Ring! A phone rang sharply in a dimly lit apartment. Click. A desk lamp flickered on, revealing Fred glancing at the clock on the wall. It was 3:30 in the morning. Fred, in his early forties, had the look of a man who''d seen his share of action. He was the de facto leader of the Austrian gang in Los Angeles, commanding a force of over two hundred members¡ªa significant presence in the city. His gang controlled several bustling areas, ran three underground casinos, engaged in loan sharking and smuggling, and dominated the liquor trade in five nightclubs and numerous bars, pulling in annual profits of two to three million dollars. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. The phone kept ringing. Fred finally picked up. On the other end was his lieutenant, Alan Payne. "I''ve just got word, Fred. Someone broke into Cook''s place earlier tonight and took him and his crew out." Fred was momentarily taken aback. Just yesterday, he had been told that Cook, a lowlife associated with the Spanish gang, had gotten into a scuffle with one of their own, a junior member named Bill. Bill ended up seriously injured, his condition still unknown. Fred had gone to check on Bill at the hospital, but by then, Hardy had already left the scene. He''d planned to regroup with his men and assess the situation come morning. But this... this was unexpected. "Any idea who did it?" Fred asked. "No clue," Alan replied. "You mean it wasn''t any of our guys?" "No, I''ve checked with everyone. None of our boys were involved." Fred''s brow furrowed. "If it wasn''t us, then who? Got any leads?" "Not much. The police said the FBI looked into it and believe it was the work of just one person." Fred raised an eyebrow. "One guy took out Cook and his whole crew?" "That''s what they''re saying." Fred hung up and stared at the wall, deep in thought. If one person had indeed managed to take down Cook and his men, they had to be exceptionally skilled. But who could it be? And what was their motive? His wife stirred beside him, sleepily murmuring, "Fred, what''s happening?" Fred kissed her on the forehead. "Nothing important, sweetheart. Just some minor issues. Go back to sleep; we''ll deal with it in the morning." Meanwhile, across town, Dani stood over Cook''s lifeless body, a cigar clenched between his teeth, fury etched on his face. Dani, known as "Red Dani," was the head of the Spanish gang in Los Angeles. In his fifties and slightly overweight, he was still a formidable presence. He had been a key player in the city for years, with over a hundred men under his command. His operations spanned bars, nightclubs, brothels, underground boxing rings, gambling dens, and most lucratively, cocaine trafficking. Cook had been one of his more dependable men, managing a slice of the drug trade that brought in tens of thousands each month. Now Cook was dead, and Dani was livid. "Who did this?" Dani growled. "It''s likely the Austrian gang," said his advisor, Bernstein. "The Austrian gang?" Dani frowned. They were the biggest players in Los Angeles, followed by the Irish, with the Spanish trailing. Other factions included Mexicans, French, and smaller groups of Russians, Poles, and Swedes. "Cook had been losing heavily at our casino lately," Bernstein continued. "And he still owed us a fair sum. Yesterday, some of the Austrians came to collect, but Cook, high on coke, shot one of their men. And now, this attack." Dani''s face darkened, his cigar almost snapping in his clenched teeth. After a long pause, he muttered, "Damn them." He and Bernstein left the morgue and returned to Dani''s mansion, where they poured themselves whiskey and lit fresh cigars. Dani stared into his glass, thinking hard. Finally, he turned to Bernstein and said, "I want the Austrians dealt with." Aside from their usual illicit businesses, Red Dani''s biggest revenue came from cocaine, raking in close to a million dollars a year¡ªfar more than their other ventures. His territory was limited, but the Austrian gang controlled the largest area in Los Angeles. They had a strict no-drug policy, which Dani had managed to circumvent by offering their leader, Fred, a hefty cut. This arrangement allowed him to operate under their noses, but it came at a steep price¡ªhundreds of thousands annually. Dani had always resented this protection fee. Bernstein looked concerned. "But the Austrians are strong, Dani. We can''t take them on alone." Dani smirked. "I''m not suggesting we do. We''ll ally with the Irish, maybe even bring in the Mexicans, French, Russians, Poles, and Swedes. Together, we could challenge the Austrians. We push more coke, make more money, and stop paying those Austrian bastards." "But the Austrians have the Mafia backing them." "The Mafia," Dani repeated, his tone contemplative. The Italian Mafia was the most powerful criminal organization in America, no doubt. But Dani had an idea. "That''s why we need the Irish on our side. They''re strong enough to stand up to the Mafia. Hell, they even call themselves the ''White Hand'' because of their beef with the Italians." "The Mafia''s base is on the East Coast¡ªNew York, Chicago, Detroit, places like that. Their presence here on the West Coast isn''t as strong." "The Austrians are like a thorn in our side out here," Dani added. Bernstein had to admit, Dani was a sharp strategist. The plan seemed plausible. Even if it didn''t work, the potential losses were manageable. "How do you want to play this?" Bernstein asked. Dani took a long drag on his cigar, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Set up a meeting with the Irish. We''ll start there." Bernstein nodded. "I''ll arrange it first thing in the morning." Chapter 6: Getting Recruited After finishing his business with Cook, Hardy walked along the path that ran parallel to the Los Angeles River. He removed his gun from his coat, expertly disassembled it into several pieces, and tossed them one by one into the river''s dark waters. This would make sure there was no trace left behind. Even if someone accused him of murder later, without the weapon, it would be much harder to prove his guilt, and he might even walk free. Hardy then took out a small watch box. He slipped the Rolex onto his wrist and flung the empty box far into the river, watching it disappear with a splash. Satisfied with his precautions, he returned to Bill''s place. As soon as he stepped inside, Hardy went straight to the kitchen. He threw his bloodstained clothes into the stove, lighting them on fire. It was a shame about the suit and the wool coat¡ªhe had just bought them a few days ago for over seventy dollars. Once his clothes were reduced to ashes, Hardy headed to the bathroom to wash away any lingering blood. The warm water relaxed him, and as he dried off, he felt a rare sense of calm. In the trenches, he never had time to relax after a fight; it was always straight from one battle into another. But now, he had a moment to catch his breath. Hardy couldn''t help but worry about Bill. He decided he''d check on him as soon as daylight broke, hoping his friend would pull through. Whatever the outcome, at least he had avenged Bill. After his shower, Hardy laid down and quickly fell into a deep sleep. When he woke up, it was already around nine in the morning. He got up, washed his face, and left for a nearby diner. He ordered a hearty breakfast and picked up a newspaper while he waited for his food. As he flipped open the paper, a bold headline immediately grabbed his attention. "Deadly Shootout on Brown Street Leaves Six Dead!" The article was accompanied by photos of the police loading bodies into their vehicles. The report speculated that the victims, all identified as members of a local Spanish gang, had likely been caught up in gang warfare. It warned that this could trigger a new wave of violence in Los Angeles, urging citizens to be on high alert. The police chief was quoted, promising that they would find the person responsible and ensure public safety. Hardy moved over to the newsstand and browsed through several other papers. They all reported on the same incident, but none of them provided much in the way of useful information. However, a few mentioned that the FBI was considering the possibility that a lone individual was responsible. As Hardy scanned the articles, he overheard a conversation nearby. "Did you catch the news this morning? Six guys from that Spanish gang got wiped out," one man said. "Yeah, it''s all over the front pages," another replied. "I knew Cook from that crew. Tough guy. He used to be with the Red Dani gang. Never thought he''d go down like this. Wonder who he crossed." "Must be another gang looking to start a turf war. This city''s always gonna have trouble. The cops are just in it for the kickbacks." Meanwhile, Bill slowly opened his eyes. Sean and Ried, standing nearby, noticed and immediately perked up. Ried burst out, "Boss, you''re awake! I thought we lost you for good." Sean cuffed him on the head. "Show some tact, will you?" Ried rubbed the back of his head, but Bill chuckled weakly. "Guess the Grim Reaper isn''t ready for me yet." Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Sean sent Ried off to fetch the doctor. A few minutes later, Dr. Murphy arrived, examined Bill, and nodded approvingly. "You''re one tough man, Bill. Wasn''t sure you''d pull through, but your resilience saved you." "Take it easy for the next three to four months, and you should recover just fine. But don''t push your luck in the future." Once the doctor left, Bill looked over at Sean and whispered, "Alright, the doc''s gone. How about that smoke?" "Boss, you know the doctor said no smoking," Sean replied. "To hell with that," Bill growled. "If I can''t enjoy a cigarette, I might as well be dead." Relenting, Sean handed him a cigarette. Bill took a drag, only to cough violently, clutching his side in pain. "Damn that Cook," he muttered. "I swear, once I''m back on my feet, I''ll make him regret ever crossing me." "Boss, Cook''s already dead," Ried interjected. Bill''s eyes widened. "Cook''s dead? How?" Sean pulled a newspaper from his pocket and handed it to Bill. The article described how Cook and five of his men were found dead, believed to be victims of gang rivalry. After reading, Bill looked up, puzzled. "Did our guys do this?" Sean shook his head. "Doesn''t seem like it. The higher-ups were asking around this morning, wondering if it was us. But we still don''t know who did it. Whoever it was, they were damn good¡ªtaking out Cook and his crew on their own." Hardy returned to the clinic after breakfast and quietly entered the ward. Seeing Bill talking to Sean and Ried, he felt a wave of relief. "Bill, you''re awake," Hardy said, walking over. "Jon, good to see you," Bill replied, smiling weakly. Hardy inspected Bill''s condition; despite his pale complexion, he seemed to be in good spirits. It looked like he would make it. "I was worried about you last night," Hardy admitted, placing a hand on Bill''s shoulder. Then, he pulled an envelope from his pocket. "I brought you a little something," he said. "What''s in it?" Bill asked, eyeing the envelope. "Money," Hardy replied. "Cook''s cash. Thought you''d want it back." Bill took the envelope and opened it, revealing a stack of bills¡ªtens, twenties, and hundreds. His expression shifted as he processed what Hardy had done. "Jon... was it you?" Bill asked quietly, his voice filled with disbelief. Hardy didn''t deny it. "He hurt my brother. I couldn''t let that stand. Besides, I took care of your business for you." Bill''s eyes filled with gratitude. Despite his injuries, he felt a swell of pride. This was what true loyalty looked like. Sean and Ried, still in the room, stared at Hardy in awe. It was clear now¡ªHardy had been the one to take down Cook. They''d known he was tough, but this... this was something else. No wonder he had survived the war. Bill grinned at Hardy. "You thought I was a goner, didn''t you? That''s why you went after Cook?" "The doc said you had a thirty percent chance," Hardy replied, his voice steady. "If I''d died, the money wouldn''t have done me any good," Bill chuckled. "I guess you''d have given it to my family." Hardy nodded. "That was the plan." Bill tried to sit up but winced in pain. Sean and Ried quickly helped him into a more comfortable position. "Alright, you two, give us a moment," Bill instructed. "And remember, no word about Cook to anyone. Understood?" Sean and Ried nodded and left the room. "What''s on your mind?" Hardy asked once they were alone. Bill looked Hardy in the eye. "Jon, I need a favor." "What kind of favor?" Hardy asked. "The doctor says I''ll be out of action for three to four months. I need someone I can trust to look after my interests. I want you to handle things for me." "You want me to join the gang?" Hardy was taken aback. This was not what he had expected. "Just temporarily," Bill said. "Until I''m back on my feet. If you don''t, I might lose everything before I recover." "What about Sean and Ried?" Hardy asked. "They''re good, but not great," Bill replied. "Sean''s smart but lacks guts. Ried''s brave but doesn''t think things through. They need someone like you to guide them. Plus, if my operation goes under, my family is left with nothing." Hardy considered Bill''s words. He hadn''t found steady work yet, and Bill was a friend. "Alright, I''ll do it¡ªfor a while. But what about the higher-ups? Will they go along with it?" Bill smiled. "Leave that to me." As they spoke, a group of men entered the clinic. Fred, the head of the Austrian gang, came in with his right-hand man, Alan Payne. Sean and Ried, loitering in the hallway, quickly straightened up and stubbed out their cigarettes. "How''s Bill?" Fred asked. "He''s awake now," Sean replied. "Doc says he''ll need a few months to fully recover, but he''s going to be okay." Fred nodded and led his group into the ward. He spotted Hardy and sized him up. Bill quickly introduced, "Mr. Fred, Mr. Payne, this is my close friend, Jon Hardy." He gestured to the envelope of cash. "We got the money back from Cook, thanks to Jon here." Fred''s eyes narrowed with interest as he looked at Hardy. So, this was the man who had taken down Cook. Young, fit, and exuding a calm, confident demeanor. The fact that he had single-??handedly dealt with Cook and his men was impressive. "I like your style, Hardy," Fred said. "You''ve got the kind of guts we need in this business. How about joining us? There''s always room for someone like you in the Austrian gang." Chapter 7 Join The Austrian Gang The Austrian gang leader stared at him for a moment before suddenly saying, "You''ve got the makings of a gangster." Jon Hardy blinked, taken aback. Him? A gangster? He looked himself up and down. Was it his rugged face, his demeanor, or just his name that made them think so? "Jon Hardy," the leader mused, "sounds like the name of someone who''s seen things. Someone who''s ready to get his hands dirty." Bill tried hard to sit up in a dignified manner and seized the opportunity to promote his friend. "Boss, Jon''s been a huge help to me. He''s my closest ally. I''d trust him with my territory any day." Fred, the gang leader, nodded. "Alright, sounds good to me." Just like that, Hardy found himself becoming part of the Austrian gang, albeit as a fringe member. Bill then grabbed a thick envelope from the bed and handed it to Fred. "Boss, Hardy helped me recover the dues Cook owed us. I''m turning it over now." Fred''s second-in-command, Alan Payne, took the envelope, opened it, and quickly thumbed through the cash. "Six thousand eight hundred dollars," Alan announced. "Five thousand was the owed amount. The rest, one thousand eight hundred, is extra." Fred took the stack of bills, peeled off a thousand, and handed it to Bill. "Here''s your cut." Bill accepted the money with a broad grin. That amount wasn''t just for him; by the gang''s rules, Sean and Reid would get a share too. Fred then peeled off another thousand. "And this is for your medical expenses. You got injured while working for us; the gang takes care of its own." "Thank you, boss," Bill said, his voice filled with gratitude as he took the money. Next, Fred counted out eighteen hundred dollars and handed it to Hardy. Hardy hesitated, eyeing Fred with a mix of curiosity and caution. "Cook only owed us five thousand," Fred explained with a smile. "The rest is yours. You earned it." Hardy quickly realized that Fred knew how to take care of his people. Fair shares, compensation for injuries, and a bit extra here and there¡ªit was all a calculated strategy to build loyalty and trust among his men. Not wanting to appear ungrateful, Hardy accepted the money without further hesitation. Fred seemed pleased with Hardy''s straightforwardness. "Good," he said with a grin. Then Bill spoke up. "Boss, what about Cook''s crew? The Spaniards won''t let this slide, right?" Fred''s face hardened. "Leave that to me. Cook broke our rules. If the Spaniards can''t play by them, we can always find other suppliers. Our territory isn''t short of options." The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The Austrian gang was well aware of the competition. Even if the Spaniards had good, cheap merchandise, there were always others willing to sell. After a bit more discussion, Fred and Alan departed, leaving the rest of the gang members in the room. Bill turned to Hardy, clapping him on the shoulder. "I''m counting on you, brother." Then he turned to Sean and Reid. "You two, stick close to Hardy. Remember, he was my commanding officer in the Marines." Sean and Reid nodded in agreement, already impressed by Hardy. Taking on Cook and his group single-handedly was no small feat; such skill naturally commanded their respect. "Don''t worry, boss. We''ve got his back," they replied in unison. Meanwhile, back at the villa, Fred and Alan had a quick discussion before Fred picked up the phone and dialed a number. On the other end was Dani, the Spanish gang leader. Dani''s voice was filled with anger as soon as he picked up. "Fred, was it your men who killed Cook? He''s one of my best! Six of my guys dead just like that!" Fred was calm but firm. "Dani, you crossed the line first. Did Cook act with your approval? Are the Spaniards looking to end our cooperation and start a war?" Dani hesitated. His bluster softened. "No, Cook acted on his own. This wasn''t sanctioned." "Good," Fred continued. "If you want to keep doing business, stick to the rules. If you don''t, you know there are consequences." Dani exhaled sharply, fighting to keep his composure. "Fine, Fred. Cook messed up, and he''s paid for it. We''ll consider this matter closed and continue our business." Fred had expected this outcome. He smirked slightly. "Just make sure there isn''t a next time." "I understand," Dani replied tersely. He slammed the phone down, his face flushed with anger. No one had ever spoken to him like that before. He grabbed a cigar, taking a long, angry drag. "I''ll crush the Austrian gang," he vowed, turning to his strategist, Bernstein. "Is the meeting with the Irish set for tonight?" "Yes, 8 PM at Hoffman''s Bar," Bernstein confirmed. Dani nodded. "Make contact with the Mexicans, the French, the Russians, and every other gang in LA. We''re not waiting." Bernstein left to make the calls, and Dani walked to the window, gazing out at the Beverly Hills skyline. His mind was racing with thoughts of power and conquest. "I''ll rule the underworld of Los Angeles," he muttered. "Just like Al Capone did in Chicago. I''ll be the king of this city." The night fell, and soon a sleek car pulled up outside Hoffman''s Bar. Dani, Bernstein, and two of their men stepped out. They weren''t there to make trouble, so they came unarmed, allowing themselves to be frisked at the entrance. Inside, they were led to a private room where two men waited¡ªHemi Weiss, the leader of the Irish North Shore gang, and his lieutenant, Bugs Moran. Hemi Weiss had a peculiar look about him, a long face accentuated by a traditional English haircut that seemed almost comical. But no one dared laugh. He was young, only twenty-eight, but he controlled several blocks in LA. His gang was known for its ruthless tactics. Hemi stood up, shaking Dani''s hand with a sly grin. "You mentioned something important, Dani. I hope you''re not planning to sell your goods on my turf. Remember, I''ve got my business to protect too." Dani''s eyes narrowed. "How would you feel about taking over the Austrian gang''s territory?" Hemi''s grin faded. He studied Dani carefully. "What''s your game here?" "I want revenge," Dani spat out, his voice cold. Hemi looked skeptical. "You want to start a war over Cook?" "It''s more than just Cook," Dani replied, leaning forward. "It''s about business. I''m tired of splitting profits with the Austrians when they contribute nothing but threats. They killed six of my men, and then Fred has the nerve to call me up and act like it''s my fault." He continued, "If we join forces, we can eliminate the Austrian gang once and for all. My Red Dani crew will take forty percent of their territory and assets, and the rest is yours. What do you say?" Dani finished his pitch and waited for Hemi''s response. Chapter 8 The Austrian Gang Business "What''s your strategy moving forward?" Hemi Weiss leaned back, his gaze fixed on Dani. "Squeeze them out," Dani replied with a grin. "First, we target the Austrian gang''s assets¡ªtheir clubs, bars, and underground casinos. We''ll also disrupt their loan sharking and smuggling operations. Weaken them bit by bit, then deliver the final blow to wipe them out completely." "And you''ve considered how they might retaliate?" Hemi asked, raising an eyebrow. Dani smirked. "We''ll start discreetly. Get people to cause trouble at their clubs and bars. We can hijack their liquor deliveries, raid their casinos, and even use customs to interfere with their smuggling routes. With these tactics, they''ll be stretched thin in no time." Hemi Weiss lifted his glass of whiskey, took a thoughtful sip, then smiled. "I like your plan, Dani. I''m in." He extended his hand toward Dani. Dani''s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he shook Hemi''s hand. The first major step of his plan was in motion, and he could almost taste victory. The two men solidified their agreement. A temporary alliance, forged to dismantle the Austrian gang together. As Dani left with his advisor, Hemi''s deputy, Bugs Moran, turned to him. "Do you really trust him, Hemi?" Hemi chuckled, lighting a cigar. "Trust him? Not a chance. Dani''s not one to be sentimental. Avenging his men? That''s just a story. He''s likely aiming to draw us into a conflict with the Austrians. When both sides are worn down, he''ll be ready to step in and seize power." "So why agree to the alliance?" Moran asked, puzzled. Hemi shrugged. "It''s a game of chess. We''ve always been at odds with the Austrians. Why not stir the pot while we can? We might find some gains in the chaos." "Dani wants to use us; we''ll use him right back," he said with a grin. Moran nodded, raising his glass to clink with Hemi''s. They drank, sharing a knowing smile. In their world, no one was naive. Every move was calculated, and everyone had their own agenda. It wasn''t so different from politics¡ªonly the stakes were higher. As Dani rode away in his car, he turned to his advisor, Burstein. "See? The Irish weren''t hard to sway. Their hatred for the Austrians runs deep. They''ll jump at any chance to take them down. How are things progressing with the other gangs?" "We''ve got the Mexicans on the line. We''re meeting their boss tomorrow. As for the French, it''ll be a few days¡ªthey''re out in San Francisco." Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. "And the Russians and Poles?" Dani inquired. "I''ll handle them personally," Burstein replied. "Offer them a bigger cut of the coke profits, and they''ll be eager to do our bidding." Dani nodded, gazing out at the neon-lit streets, imagining the city under his rule. Soon, he thought. Soon. The next day, Hardy began his new role. Sean and Reid picked him up in a truck, driving to a run-down part of town. They pulled up to a large iron gate, and Sean honked the horn. A slit in the gate opened. Sean waved, and the gate swung wide, allowing them to drive into a courtyard filled with warehouses. "Welcome to the stash," Sean said to Hardy, a grin on his face. "This is where all our booze and smokes are kept." "We''re in charge of supplying seven bars and two clubs in our area," he continued. "We get inventory every evening, pick it up from here in the mornings, and distribute it. Pubs settle their accounts with us weekly, and we pass it up the chain every Monday." A burly man approached, greeting Sean and Reid before turning his attention to Hardy. "This is Jon Hardy," Sean introduced. "Bill''s brother. He''ll be overseeing our territory from now on." "Nice to meet you, Jon. I''m Benson, the assistant warehouse manager." They shook hands, exchanging pleasantries. As they headed inside, Benson asked, "How''s Bill doing?" "He''s stable now," Sean replied. "Should be back on his feet in a couple of months." Benson nodded, then leaned in, curious. "By the way, any idea who took down Cook and his crew? People are talking. Must''ve been someone tough to take on all those guys alone." Sean shot a glance at Hardy, then smiled. "No clue. Could''ve been a move by the boss." Before Fred left, he''d instructed them to keep Hardy''s involvement under wraps, primarily for Hardy''s safety. Hardy had no desire for fame¡ªstaying alive was his priority. So, Sean played along with the cover story. Inside the warehouse, Sean began going through the inventory list. There was a variety of goods: whiskey, rum, vodka, brandy, tequila, fruit wines, Marlboro, Camel, unbranded cigarettes, and various cigars. As the goods were loaded onto the truck, Sean and Reid handled the counting. Once everything was loaded, Sean handed the list to Hardy to sign. Hardy glanced at the total¡ªover three thousand dollars. Considering the average worker''s wage in 1945 was around two hundred dollars a month, this load represented over a year''s salary for many. That was just one day''s haul from their territory. As they pulled away from the warehouse, Hardy asked, "Are these all legit?" "Absolutely," Sean said. "Top-notch stuff." "So, how do we make a profit?" Hardy wondered aloud. "Hike up the prices in the bars and clubs?" Sean laughed. "Nope. Our prices are actually lower than the market rate." "How''s that profitable?" "Smuggling and tax evasion, my friend. The government''s tax on tobacco and alcohol is sky-high, anywhere from 40% to over 80%. If we went legit, we''d be broke." "We dodge domestic taxes and bring in foreign goods through our own smuggling channels. Even other suppliers buy from us. It''s less lucrative than during Prohibition, but the margins are still solid, especially on the pricier stuff." Hardy, familiar with crime dramas and a student of gang culture, knew well how the Prohibition era had fueled the rise of American gangs, providing them the financial backing to expand. Even after Prohibition ended, smuggling and tax evasion remained key revenue streams. "Doesn''t the IRS crack down on this?" Hardy asked. "They do, but we keep things under wraps. And when it gets hot, the boss smooths things over." They arrived at the first stop¡ªthe "Bunny Nightclub," where Bill had taken Hardy on his first day. The manager emerged, accepted the delivery, and signed the paperwork. After finishing the nightclub deliveries, they moved on to the bars. By 10 a.m., they''d completed their rounds, delivering all the goods. "Let''s grab some breakfast," Sean suggested. Hardy nodded. "Sounds good. Let''s eat." Chapter 9 Buying Guns They found a small, dimly lit diner and ordered burgers with steaming cups of coffee. As Sean took a bite of his food, he said, "We can take a breather now. Usually around 3 or 4 in the afternoon, bars and nightclubs start to open. That''s when we do our rounds, make sure everything''s running smoothly." In simpler terms, it was all about assessing the situation. "If some drunk gets rowdy, just toss him out. That''s usually straightforward. Our main concern is if some rival gang tries to stir up trouble, but that doesn''t happen often. Most gangs stick to their own turf." He paused to take a sip of coffee, then continued, "In the evenings, we check in with the bar owners about their liquor sales and take orders for the next day. We''re usually done by one or two in the morning." Hardy couldn''t help but think that this line of work was far from easy money. But in these times, who had it easy? "What about collecting debts?" Hardy asked, curious. "We''ve got one standing job¡ªgetting our cut from the Spaniards for the coke we supply. Cook used to handle that, but now that you''ve taken care of him, we''ll have to see who steps in next." Sean looked at Hardy as he said this. "There''s also extra work, like collecting debts for casinos and loan sharks. Those are side gigs if you want to earn a bit more. But I''d suggest you get a feel for the main job before diving into that." Hardy nodded, understanding that debt collection was just a way to pad the income. Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind. He took a bite of his burger and asked Sean, "Is there a way to get my hands on some guns? I need a few more." In this line of work, danger was always around the corner. Being unarmed was not an option. He had disposed of Bill''s gun after the incident at the river, so now he needed to stock up. "Buying guns? No problem. I''ll take you to see Old Mike after we finish up here," Sean replied. After they finished eating, the three of them drove out to the edge of town to a gun shop that seemed a bit off the beaten path. The place was bigger than Hardy expected. As they got out of the car, Sean said, "Old Mike is one of us. He runs this shop and also deals in black-market firearms. Most of the guys get their stuff from him." They entered the shop, and Sean called out to a grizzled old man lounging in a recliner, "Old Mike, we''ve got some business for you." The man, with his silver hair and full beard, opened his eyes, got up, and approached them. He glanced at Sean before turning his attention to Hardy. "Who''s this?" "Jon Hardy," Sean introduced. "He''s Bill''s brother. Bill''s laid up right now, so Jon''s handling things for him." Old Mike eyed Hardy up and down. "You ever serve?" "Yeah, Marine Corps," Hardy replied. The old man nodded in approval. "I can tell you''ve seen some action. I served in the Austro-Hungarian army during the Great War. Ended up here after the empire fell." Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. "Old Mike, Jon''s looking for some quality firepower," Sean cut in. Old Mike nodded again, gesturing for them to follow. As they walked, Sean leaned in and whispered to Hardy, "He''ll chew your ear off about the war if you let him." Hardy smirked. They followed Old Mike to a heavy iron door. He unlocked it, revealing a warehouse packed with shelves of weapons. Guns were laid out neatly, gleaming under the dim light. For Hardy, it was like stepping into a candy store. Old Mike led the way, giving a rundown as he went. "Most of these are surplus or used. You''ve got the M1 Garand, M1 Carbine, Mauser 98, and the British Enfield." He picked up a rifle and handed it to Hardy. "This here''s the M1941 Johnson semi-automatic, used by the Marines. You should know this one." Hardy''s military instincts kicked in as he took the rifle. It felt like an extension of his own body. "Feels solid," Hardy remarked, pulling back the bolt and testing the trigger. Old Mike grinned. "I don''t just sell guns. I take care of them too. Every piece here is handpicked and maintained by yours truly." "I''ll take it," Hardy said without hesitation. Old Mike smiled. "That''ll be $105, and I''ll throw in 100 rounds." It wasn''t cheap¡ªhalf a month''s pay for most¡ªbut Hardy knew quality when he saw it. Sean, ever the negotiator, chimed in, "Come on, Mike. These are used guns, and the production cost is a fraction of what you''re charging." Old Mike shot back, "You want fresh eggs from a hen, you don''t get them for free. The price stands." Hardy chuckled. "Make it $100, and give me 200 rounds." "Deal," Old Mike said, sealing the transaction with a nod. They moved on to the submachine guns. "How about a Thompson? The Chicago Typewriter? Or maybe a German MP40, STG 44?" Hardy didn''t need to think twice. "Give me the Thompson," he said, knowing it was the quintessential gangster''s weapon. He also picked out two M1911 pistols, remembering how he''d ditched the ones he used to kill Cook. For good measure, he grabbed a Colt revolver and a Winchester M1887 shotgun¡ªCook''s weapon of choice, now his. Old Mike offered everything from machine guns to grenades, but Hardy declined. "We''ll get those if we need them," he said. Mike promised him a good price on anything he might need in the future. The total came to $460, a hefty chunk of the cash Hardy had just earned, but he felt it was money well spent. Out back, there was a shooting range. Hardy tested his new weapons, hitting the 50-meter targets with precision, the metallic clang echoing with each shot. Sean and Reid tried their hand but couldn''t match Hardy''s accuracy. "Jon, your aim is dead on," Sean said, clearly impressed. "Practice," Hardy replied. "Thousands of rounds, and anyone can be a sharpshooter." Old Mike, who had been watching, nodded in agreement. "He''s right. If you want to shoot well, you''ve got to practice." Old Mike took a turn, firing rapidly and hitting the targets with ease, before walking away without a word. As they watched him go, Hardy felt a deep respect for the old man''s skills. After spending some time at the range, they left Old Mike''s shop and visited a few bars before ending up at Bunny Nightclub. By then, dusk had settled in, and the club was beginning to fill up. Hardy, Sean, and Reid walked in past the bouncer, who greeted them with a nod. "Let''s find a spot to sit. It''s usually pretty quiet," Sean said. As they moved through the crowd, a striking blonde woman in a red dress caught Sean''s eye. She greeted him warmly, then turned her attention to Hardy. She looked him up and down with a playful smile. "Who''s the handsome guy, Sean?" "This is Jon Hardy, my new boss. He''s running things around here now," Sean explained. The woman stepped closer, her heels clicking on the floor, and stopped right in front of Hardy. She was almost as tall as he was, and she gazed at him with deep, brown eyes. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Hardy," she said, extending her hand. "I''m Marissa." "Likewise," Hardy replied, shaking her hand with a smile. "If you''ve got time, we should have a drink," she suggested. "Sure thing." With a flirtatious smile, Marissa turned and walked away, her hips swaying with each step. Reid watched her go, clearly captivated. "She''s never been that friendly to any of us¡ªnot even Bill. But she seems to like you." Sean chuckled. "Jon, Marissa''s the star here. She''s got charm, and she brings in a lot of business. The boss pays her well for it." Hardy thought to himself that Marissa was more than just a pretty face; she was a master at her craft. "Plenty of guys chase after her," Sean continued, "but not many get anywhere. From the way she looked at you, though, you might have a shot if you play your cards right." Chapter 10 Gangs business As the night deepened, the bar slowly came to life. The air was thick with smoke, the scent of expensive liquor, and the rhythmic pulse of music. A crowd, enticed by the promise of a night of pleasure, filled the place with energy and anticipation. Amidst this throng, Hardy''s gaze was drawn to a striking figure in red, surrounded by a cluster of men. These men, dressed in sharp suits with polished shoes, presented themselves as refined, but Hardy saw through their facade. He knew their intentions were simple¡ªthey all wanted the same thing: to take the alluring woman in front of them to bed. Marissa, however, handled their advances with a practiced ease. She had an uncanny ability to charm and disarm, to make each man feel like he was the only one who mattered. She was, after all, the star attraction of the nightclub, and she played her role perfectly. Sensing Hardy''s eyes on her, Marissa glanced his way. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and she offered him a playful, knowing smile before turning her attention back to her eager admirers. "She''s dangerous," Hardy thought to himself, a mix of admiration and caution flickering in his eyes. Elsewhere, on the south side of the city, another nightclub pulsed with a different kind of energy. This club was a world apart from the Bunny Bar. Here, the music was louder, the dancing more frenetic, and the air was heavy with the scent of excess. In the dim corners, patrons engaged in all manner of illicit activities, including open drug use. This was a place where rules were more suggestions than mandates¡ªa true den of vice. Dani entered the club with Burstein, his expression filled with disdain as he surveyed the chaos around him. "This place is a circus," he muttered under his breath. In a secluded VIP area, Dani met with Nemesio, a notorious gang leader with a reputation as ruthless as it was violent. Nemesio was in his forties, short but solidly built, with a hardened expression that spoke of a life spent on the streets. Known to many as "The Squid," Nemesio had clawed his way up from a petty thief to a gang boss through sheer aggression and cunning. Nemesio took a long, indulgent snort from the line of powder on the table in front of him, savoring the moment before turning his attention to Dani. "Didn''t expect to see you here, Dani," he said with a smirk. "Last I heard, you were stepping on my turf, undercutting my coke trade." Dani offered a nonchalant smile. "That was small-time, Nemesio. I''m here with a much bigger proposal. Interested?" Nemesio''s curiosity was piqued. "What kind of proposal?" Dani leaned in closer, his voice low. "The Austrians have the best territory¡ªprime real estate, wealthy clients. They killed some of our guys recently, and I''m planning on hitting back. I''ve already got the Irish on board, and we''re looking to carve up the Austrian territory. You want in?" You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Nemesio leaned back, a calculating look in his eyes. "The Irish agreed to this?" Dani nodded. "They''re on board." "And what''s my cut?" "Thirty percent," Dani replied smoothly. Nemesio scoffed. "No way. I want sixty." Dani remained calm. "The Irish are stronger than you, Nemesio. They get forty percent." In truth, Dani was playing both sides. He had promised the Irish sixty percent as well. But deception was part of the game, and he played it well. Nemesio frowned. "The Irish? They''ve only got two hundred guys. I can rally a thousand Mexicans if I need to." Dani knew that Nemesio''s numbers were inflated, mostly made up of petty criminals and desperate smugglers, far less organized or formidable than the Irish. But he played along, pretending to consider. "Fine, sixty percent it is, but you''ll need to pull your weight." Nemesio grinned, satisfied. "Deal. When do we start?" "I''ll let you know when the time is right," Dani replied. As Dani and Burstein left the nightclub, Dani took a deep breath of the cool night air, shaking his head in disgust. "What a bunch of fools," he muttered. Burstein turned to him. "I''ve got the Russians and Poles ready to join us. The French are hesitant; their leader''s out of town." Dani smirked. "The French are small potatoes. If they don''t want in, it''s no loss. We''ve got ??enough muscle with the others." "When do we move?" Burstein asked. "Not yet," Dani said. "I''ve still got meetings with a couple of city councilmen and the police chief. We''ll need their cooperation when things heat up. But in the meantime, let''s stir the pot a little, make things interesting." Early the next morning, Hardy drove over to meet Sean and Reid , ready to begin another day''s work. They headed to the warehouse to pick up their shipments, just as they had done the day before. Today was the weekly accounting day. After Sean calculated the day''s takings, Hardy double-checked the figures to ensure everything was accurate. "Didn''t know you were good with numbers, Jon," Sean remarked, surprised. Hardy shrugged. "Had to learn back in the day. Comes in handy." They tallied the day''s haul¡ªa cool $20,000¡ªand headed to the main office to settle accounts. It was Hardy''s first time at the headquarters, and he was struck by how much it resembled a legitimate business operation. After turning in the day''s earnings, Hardy reviewed their profits. "How do we usually split this?" he asked. "Bill gets forty percent, and the rest gets split between me and Reid ," Sean explained. Hardy nodded. "How about we cut Bill in for a share? Fair''s fair, right?" Sean and Reid both agreed, and they decided to divide the profits evenly¡ªeach taking a twenty-five percent share. Hardy knew the value of keeping his team happy and motivated. A little generosity now could pay dividends in loyalty and effort down the line. With the day''s work done, they returned to the nightclub, maintaining their routine. A few days later, word spread quickly of a robbery at Tuscany Tavern, an old Italian bar on Melrose Street. The place had been hit hard; two men had walked in, ordered drinks, and then suddenly opened fire, sending patrons scrambling for cover. The thieves grabbed what cash they could and were gone in a flash. Dante, the owner, tried to stand up to them, warning them they were on Austrian turf. For his trouble, he got a bullet in the leg. News of the attack rattled the neighborhood. The next day, the tavern was nearly empty, the fear of violence driving customers away. Whispers spread, questioning the Austrian gang''s ability to protect their turf. As Hardy and Sean delivered supplies to another bar, one of the owners pulled Hardy aside. "You''re with the Austrians, right? You guys gonna keep us safe?" Hardy nodded, giving the man a reassuring smile. "We''ve got it under control. Don''t worry." But inside, he knew the situation was growing more dangerous by the day. Chapter 11 Conflict The Bunny Lounge The Bunny Lounge was alive with energy. Patrons filled every corner, their laughter mingling with the clinking of glasses. On a small stage at the center of the room, a blonde woman in a glittering bikini and a tiny, round hat danced to the pulsating rhythm, her legs kicking high, captivating the crowd with every move. On the dance floor, a throng of men and women swayed together, caught up in the joyous atmosphere. It was 10 PM, the nightclub''s busiest hour, and the place was buzzing. As the song ended, the audience paused for a moment to catch their breath. The spotlight shifted, and Marissa, draped in a sleek white evening gown, glided onto the stage. Her presence commanded attention, her stunning figure instantly drawing the eyes of every man in the room. With a charming smile, Marissa addressed the crowd. "At the request of Mr. Wysland, I will perform a special song for everyone." Her eyes sparkled as they locked onto a handsome man in the audience, Mr. Wysland himself. The crowd followed her gaze, turning toward him. Aware of the attention, Mr. Wysland gave a polite nod, his demeanor composed and gentlemanly. A round of applause erupted, and the pianist began to play. Marissa''s voice, soft and haunting, filled the room with a classic ballad, tinged with a touch of sadness. The audience was spellbound, captivated by her performance. Hardy watched from his seat, impressed. He hadn''t expected Marissa to be not only strikingly beautiful and socially adept but also a talented singer. When the song concluded, the crowd erupted in applause. The atmosphere shifted again as the music picked up, becoming more upbeat. The guests, holding their drinks high, danced energetically, some even jumping onto tables in celebration. Marissa stepped down from the stage and made her way toward Mr. Wysland''s table. Before she could reach him, a towering man, easily over six feet tall, blocked her path. Despite her own height, Marissa seemed almost petite standing before him. "Miss Marissa," the giant of a man said with a grin, "care to share a dance with me?" Marissa glanced at Mr. Wysland, who was watching from a short distance away, and politely declined. "I''m sorry, sir, but I have a friend waiting for me over there." She had encountered similar situations before. Usually, a polite refusal was enough, but this time was different. The man''s smile vanished, and his expression turned dark. He reached out and grabbed her waist firmly. "I don''t like being turned down," he growled. Marissa stiffened, but she remained composed. "Sir, please let go. We don''t know each other," she said calmly. The man laughed. "Just one dance, it won''t take long," he insisted, trying to pull her toward the dance floor. Mr. Wysland, noticing the altercation, turned to his companions. "What''s happening with Marissa?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. He glanced at the burly man. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Mr. Wysland, a well-dressed man in his thirties, looked every bit the refined gentleman with his tailored suit and expensive watch. Seeing Marissa in trouble, he felt a surge of protectiveness. This was his chance to impress her, to be the hero. "Step aside!" he commanded. The large man glared at Wysland with a menacing look. Wysland hesitated, swallowing hard, then took a step back. He was not the fighting type, more accustomed to negotiating deals than brawling. The burly man sneered. "A pretty boy with no guts. Typical." Two security guards from the club noticed the commotion and hurried over. "Hey! Let go of Miss Marissa," one of them shouted. The big man smirked. "I suggest you mind your own business," he warned. The security guards were undeterred. "I think you''re the one causing trouble here," one said, reaching for the man''s arm to free Marissa. The giant''s face twisted in anger. He clenched his fist and swung it hard at the security guard. "Thud!" The punch landed squarely, sending the guard sprawling to the ground, unconscious. Marissa screamed as panic spread among the guests. Hardy, along with his friends Sean and Reid, saw the disturbance and quickly moved toward it. As they neared, Reid, a broad-shouldered man, pointed at the aggressor. "Hey, jerk! Let go of Marissa and get out before things get ugly." Before he could finish, four or five men rose from a nearby table and stood behind the big man. Hardy''s instincts kicked in. This wasn''t a random altercation; these men were here to stir up trouble. The burly man grinned. "Name''s Big Ivan," he declared. "I came here for Marissa, and I don''t plan on leaving without her." Reid, always quick to act, threw a punch. Another man stepped in, meeting Reid''s blow with one of his own. The two grappled, knocking over tables and chairs, the sound of breaking glass punctuating the chaos. Guests screamed and scrambled for safety as the fight escalated. Big Ivan laughed loudly. "Come on, boys! Let''s show them who''s boss!" Several of his men lunged forward. Sean ducked back, dodging a punch, while three others surrounded Hardy. Hardy moved swiftly, sidestepping their attacks. He struck the first man hard in the face, sending him sprawling. Without pausing, he delivered a sharp uppercut to the second, a sickening crack echoing as the man''s jaw broke. The third man managed to land a punch, but Hardy absorbed it, countering with a powerful blow to the side of the man''s head, knocking him out cold. Within moments, Hardy had incapacitated three men. He then turned and kicked the man attacking Sean, sending him stumbling. Seizing the moment, Sean grabbed a nearby stool and brought it down hard on the man''s head, drawing blood. Reid, still wrestling with his opponent, saw Sean''s move and took advantage, landing a final, crushing punch that knocked his man out. Big Ivan, realizing the tables had turned, reached for something at his waist. Just as his hand closed around a gun, he felt the cold steel of a barrel pressed against his temple. "Don''t move," Hardy ordered, his voice calm but firm. Big Ivan froze. He knew better than to test his luck. He hadn''t planned on actually shooting anyone; this was supposed to be a simple shake-up, not a bloodbath. Hardy, skilled in quick-draw shooting, had his gun ready in a fraction of a second. "Let her go," he demanded, his gaze cold and unwavering. Seeing the deadly resolve in Hardy''s eyes, Big Ivan knew he was serious. He reluctantly released Marissa. Hardy pulled Marissa behind him, keeping his gun trained on Ivan. She looked at him, a mixture of gratitude and surprise in her eyes. Big Ivan felt humiliated, his plan falling apart. "You won''t shoot me in front of all these people," he bluffed. "Men settle things with their fists, not guns. Fight me fair and square!" Hardy remained calm. "Hand over the gun," he said. Ivan hesitated but eventually complied, handing his pistol to Hardy. It was a Soviet TT-33, known for its reliability and low cost. Hardy took the gun and turned to Marissa. "Hold onto this for me." She nodded, taking the weapon without a word. "Alright, Ivan," Hardy said, cracking his knuckles. "Let''s finish this the old-fashioned way." Chapter 12 Conspiracy The nightclub pulsed with energy, music thumping and lights flickering. This was no place for a gunfight; Hardy knew better than to draw his weapon in a public setting. A scuffle could be brushed off, a stabbing might be managed, but gunshots? That would invite a whole world of trouble. "Bring it on!" Hardy taunted, his voice steady, eyes locked on Big Ivan. Big Ivan''s friends lay scattered around, either groaning in pain or knocked out cold. He eyed Hardy warily. The man in front of him wasn''t just some street thug. But Big Ivan had been in more street brawls than he could count, his childhood littered with fights and scraps. His blood boiled; he wasn''t going to back down now. With a roar, Big Ivan lunged, throwing a massive punch. Hardy sidestepped, countering with a swift blow to Ivan''s ribs. The impact made Ivan stagger, his face contorted in pain. The crowd around them erupted in cheers, a few drunken patrons egging them on, excited by the violence. The two fighters went at it, trading blows. Hardy took a hit to the jaw, feeling the sting as his skin split. But he kept his focus. Big Ivan was no amateur; he knew how to take a punch and dish one out. He seemed almost eager to absorb Hardy''s blows, just to land a few of his own. Hardy saw his chance. "Now!" he thought, ducking under Ivan''s wild swing and landing two solid punches to Ivan''s chin. The big man''s head snapped back, and he staggered, momentarily disoriented. But Ivan wasn''t done. With a guttural yell, he charged at Hardy, arms wide, aiming to bear hug him into submission. Hardy, anticipating the move, shifted his weight and used a wrestling technique to flip Ivan over his shoulder. "Crash!" Ivan''s hefty frame collided with the bar, knocking bottles and glasses flying. Hardy decided it was time to end this. He stepped over to a nearby table, grabbing a steak knife. Before Ivan could fully recover, Hardy pinned his arm to the wall and drove the knife through his hand. A scream tore from Ivan''s throat, echoing through the room. The spectators gasped, some in shock, others in awe. Hardy wasn''t finished. He picked up a fork from the same table and, without hesitation, pinned Ivan''s other hand to the wall. Ivan''s face twisted in pain, his eyes burning with a mixture of fear and rage. Even now, Hardy could see the fire in his eyes¡ªa clear message that if he got free, Hardy would be his first target. Hardy stood, scanning the room. The crowd watched in a mix of admiration and fear. "Sean, round up these troublemakers and take them out back," Hardy instructed, giving Sean a quick nod. Sean and a few of the bouncers moved swiftly, binding the hands and feet of Ivan''s crew and hauling them toward the club''s rear exit. "Just a little excitement, folks!" Hardy called out to the onlookers. "Nothing to stop the fun. Let''s keep the music going!" Stolen story; please report. The band, understanding the cue, picked up their instruments, launching into an upbeat jazz number. The atmosphere quickly shifted back to revelry, the fight already fading into just another crazy story for the patrons to tell. Hardy made his way to the restroom, splashing cold water on his face. His reflection in the mirror showed a few cuts and bruises, but nothing too serious. His body would heal soon enough, his resilience one of his best traits. As he exited, Marissa approached, a coy smile playing on her lips. "Hardy, I brought your guns back," she said, holding out two pistols. Hardy accepted them, tucking his revolver into its holster and sliding Big Ivan''s pistol into his waistband. "Thanks," he said. Marissa''s eyes lingered on him, her expression soft. "You were amazing back there, Hardy," she murmured. "I was so scared. My heart''s still racing." She placed a hand over her chest, drawing his gaze downward, almost involuntarily. "Hardy, would you mind walking me home later? I''m a bit shaken," she asked suddenly. "I''ve got some things to handle first," Hardy replied, keeping his tone neutral. The Russians were still tied up in the back, and he needed answers. There was more to this than a simple bar fight. "That''s okay," Marissa said with a sweet smile. "I''ll wait for you." Hardy nodded and made his way to the holding room where Big Ivan and his crew were confined. The men were bound and subdued, but Ivan, despite his injuries, still looked defiant. "Bring Ivan to the next room," Hardy ordered. Once alone with the big man, Hardy leaned in, his voice cold. "You must have known this is Austrian gang territory. Why''d you come looking for trouble?" Ivan glared back, his expression a mixture of pain and bravado. "Just a bit of fun," he said gruffly. "Nothing more." Hardy pulled out Ivan''s own pistol and aimed it deliberately at his leg. "You know this gun, Ivan. You know what it can do. I''m going to ask you again, and if you lie, I''ll shoot. How many lies do you think you can afford?" Ivan flinched, the barrel of the gun inches from his thigh. He knew Hardy wasn''t bluffing. "Three." Hardy''s voice was steady, his aim unwavering. "Two." Ivan''s bravado wavered. He wasn''t ready to lose a leg over this. "One." "Okay, okay!" Ivan blurted out. "It was Burstein, the Spanish gang''s advisor. He came to us, said if we stirred up trouble here, we''d get a nice reward." "What kind of reward?" Hardy pressed. "A discount on the coke we buy from them. Twenty percent off," Ivan admitted. "Anyone else involved?" Hardy asked. "I don''t know. That''s all I know, I swear," Ivan said, desperation in his voice. Hardy questioned him further, piecing together the details of Burstein''s visit. The whole thing smelled like more than a petty rivalry. There was something deeper at play, and Hardy intended to find out what. "Take him back," Hardy told Reid. "And make sure his wounds are treated. We might need him alive a bit longer." "Got it," Reid replied, dragging Ivan away. Hardy headed upstairs to the manager''s office and dialed the number of his boss. After a few rings, Fred, the Austrian gang''s leader, answered. "Fred, it''s Hardy," he said, keeping his tone direct. "What''s going on, Hardy?" Fred asked. "We had some trouble at the Bunny Bar. Russians, led by Big Ivan. They confessed they were sent by Burstein from the Spanish gang to stir things up. I don''t think this is just about territory. I think they''re planning something bigger." Fred was silent for a moment, then said, "Good work, Hardy. I''ll think on this. Stay sharp." Hardy hung up and returned to the backyard. The Russian gang members were awake now, watching him nervously. He couldn''t kill them outright¡ªthat would draw too much heat, even in a post-war world where things were still chaotic. But he could make their lives miserable for a while. "Lock them in the old cellar," Hardy instructed. "No food, no water, for three days. Then let them go." The Russians protested, but Hardy silenced them with a shot fired into the ground. The loud crack of the gun shut them up fast. With that taken care of, Hardy went back into the nightclub. It was early morning now, and he assumed Marissa had gone home. But to his surprise, she was still there, waiting patiently. "You''re still here?" he asked, surprised. "I told you, I''m scared to go home alone," she replied, her eyes wide and sincere. Hardy sighed, giving a small nod. "Alright, let''s get you home." Chapter 13 Shoot Out December marked the beginning of the rainy season in Los Angeles. A light drizzle had just passed as Marissa and Hardy stepped out of the bustling nightclub. The night air was damp and had a chilly edge to it. Marissa instinctively pulled her arms around herself, shivering slightly. Just then, Hardy draped his suit jacket over her shoulders, a comforting warmth radiating from the fabric. The jacket still carried the lingering heat from his body. Marissa glanced up at Hardy. He had a rugged face, a strong nose, sharp, chiseled features, and eyes that were deep and intense. He wasn''t what one would call traditionally handsome, but there was a rugged allure to him, a kind of masculine charm that was hard to ignore. They got into the car, and Hardy drove out of the parking lot. As they cruised down the street, Marissa rummaged through her handbag and pulled out a silver cigarette case. She took a cigarette from it, placed it between her lips, and lit it with a flick of her lighter. She took a drag and then offered the cigarette to Hardy. Hardy glanced at her and accepted it without hesitation, taking a puff. "Does your face still hurt?" Marissa asked, her eyes flicking to the fresh bruises and cuts on his cheek. Hardy had taken a few punches to the face during his brawl with Big Ivan earlier, resulting in the visible scratches and swelling. "It''s not a big deal. I''ll be fine by tomorrow," he replied casually. "You''re quite the fighter," Marissa remarked, a hint of admiration in her tone. "And you have a beautiful singing voice. Have you ever taken lessons?" Her face lit up at the question, her interest piqued. She turned slightly to look at Hardy, her expression thoughtful. "I''ve always dreamed of making it in Hollywood, becoming a star. I joined a modeling agency, took acting classes, and trained in vocal music. Unfortunately, my acting teacher told me I didn''t have much natural talent for it, but they did say I had potential in singing." "I''ve been taking vocal lessons now, four times a week. It costs a lot, but I think it''s worth it," she added with a small smile. Their conversation carried on until Hardy pulled up in front of Marissa''s home, a modest two-story building. Marissa stepped out and approached the driver''s side window. "Good night," Hardy said with a nod. But Marissa didn''t say good night. She looked at the cuts on his cheek, her expression softening. "Would you like to come inside? I can help you clean up those wounds." "I don''t want to impose," he replied. "It''s no trouble. I live alone," she reassured him. Hardy parked the car by the side of the road, and they went upstairs together. Inside, the light from the second-floor window cast a faint glow on the street below. Through the thin curtains, their silhouettes could be seen, the woman carefully tending to the man''s wounds. A flicker of warmth passed between them. Not long after, soft sounds began to emanate from the upstairs. The next morning, the first rays of sunlight filtered into the room, casting a warm glow on Marissa''s golden hair. She awoke to find the other side of the bed empty. A slight pang of disappointment tugged at her. As she sat up, the sheets slipped off, revealing her graceful curves. At 23, she was in her prime, the peak of her youth and beauty. She walked barefoot to the bathroom, catching sight of her reflection in the mirror. Her gaze fell on the pair of pants draped over a chair, and memories of the previous night''s intensity came rushing back. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. A faint smile curved her lips. Hardy had been surprisingly gentle yet incredibly strong, giving her an experience that left her both satisfied and craving more. There had been something raw and honest in their connection, something uncomplicated by deeper emotions¡ªa mutual desire that they had both surrendered to. It was a feeling she found herself wanting more of. Later that morning, Hardy left Marissa''s house and drove to meet Sean and Reid. As soon as they spotted him, they hurried over with knowing grins. "Boss, did you spend the night at Marissa''s?" Sean asked with a teasing glint in his eye. Reid, too, watched him eagerly, looking for signs of the gossip. Hardy nodded, nonchalantly. "Yeah." "Wow!" the two exclaimed in unison. "That''s impressive, boss! The way you saved her last night definitely made an impression," Sean said with a grin. "Yeah, she''s a real beauty. Just thinking about it is something else," Reid added, a dreamy expression crossing his face. Hardy rolled his eyes and swatted them both on the head. "Cut the nonsense. We''re wasting time. Let''s get to the warehouse and pick up the goods. Did you get all the paperwork sorted?" "Yeah, we got everything," Sean replied. The three of them headed to the warehouse where the tobacco and alcohol were stored. After half a month of doing this, Hardy had become adept at managing the inventory, checking the accounts, and handling the paperwork. He exchanged nods with familiar faces from the gang as they went about their business. Hardy had also gotten to know quite a few people from the organization over the past few weeks. Alessandro, who managed the area next to Hardy''s, approached with a cigarette in hand. "Hey Hardy, I heard there was some trouble at the Bunny Bar last night." Word travels fast in their circles. "Yeah, it was the Russians," Hardy replied, taking the offered cigarette. "Those Russians are a small-time group, but they''re bold enough to cause trouble on our turf. So, how''d you handle them?" Alessandro inquired. "Locked them in the cellar, no food or water for three days," Hardy said with a smirk. Alessandro chuckled heartily. "Good call. Teach them a lesson they won''t forget." Alessandro had already loaded his goods and waved goodbye as he and his men drove away. But just as they were leaving the rough neighborhood, two trucks suddenly appeared, blocking the narrow street ahead. "What the hell? Who the hell parks like that?" Alessandro barked, irritated. "Amor, go check what''s going on." Amor got out of the car to investigate, but as he approached the trucks, the tarpaulins suddenly flipped open, revealing men armed with machine guns. Amor froze, panic setting in, but before he could react, a hail of bullets erupted, cutting him down where he stood. Alessandro and his driver barely had time to reach for their guns before the attackers unleashed a barrage of gunfire, shattering the truck''s windows and riddling the vehicle with bullets. Blood pooled on the pavement. Within minutes, the attackers had stolen the alcohol and cigarettes from Alessandro''s truck, tossed a lit stick of dynamite into the cab, and fled. Moments later, a deafening explosion rocked the street, and Alessandro''s truck went up in flames. ... Meanwhile, Hardy had just finished loading their supplies into their truck. The total came to $3,620¡ªa good sign that business was picking up. As they pulled out of the warehouse, Reid drove at a leisurely pace, about twenty or thirty miles per hour. Before long, they found themselves on a deserted stretch of road lined with abandoned factories. Suddenly, they noticed a truck parked across the road up ahead, blocking their path. "Damn, who''s the idiot that parked there?" Reid muttered, leaning on the horn in frustration. But the truck didn''t budge. No movement at all. "Forget it. I''ll go make them move," Reid said, opening the door. But just then, Hardy felt a sudden jolt of fear. An instinctual alarm bell rang in his mind, a sharp sense of danger. "Wait!" Hardy grabbed Reid''s arm. "Don''t get out. Reverse. Now!" "What''s going on, boss?" Reid asked, confused. "Just do it! Reverse!" Hardy ordered. Reid saw the intensity in Hardy''s eyes and didn''t argue. He put the truck in reverse and started backing away. At that moment, the men in the truck ahead realized they had been spotted. They jumped out, guns at the ready¡ªevery one of them wielding a Tommy gun. "Get down!" Hardy shouted. Bullets flew, shattering the windshield and peppering the truck with holes. Reid kept reversing, trying to put distance between them and the attackers. "Reid , swing the truck sideways!" Hardy shouted. Reid turned the wheel sharply, skidding the truck sideways across the road to create a makeshift barrier. Hardy was the first out, rolling to the ground and pulling his pistol. He took quick aim and fired at the advancing gunmen. A single shot rang out, and one of the attackers went down. The gunmen hesitated, realizing they were facing a sharpshooter. They dropped to the ground, continuing to fire but with less reckless abandon. Sean and Reid jumped out, firing back, but their aim was wild. The distance was too great for their pistols to be effective. "Sean, get my rifle!" Hardy shouted. "On it, boss!" Sean scrambled into the truck, grabbing Hardy''s rifle from under the seat and tossing it to him. With the rifle in hand, Hardy felt a familiar rush, like he was back on the battlefield. He chambered a round, took aim, and squeezed the trigger. Another gunman went down. The attackers realized they were outmatched, hesitating in their advance. Hardy''s precise shots had turned the tide. Chapter 14 The Irish A man crouched behind a tree, believing he was well concealed. Half of his body, however, was clearly visible. To Hardy, he was nothing more than a sitting duck. Hardy took aim and fired in one smooth motion. "Bang!" The man let out a shriek and collapsed to the ground. Six adversaries had initially taken up positions across the street. Hardy had already dispatched one with his revolver and two more with his rifle. Now, only three remained. The M1941 Johnson rifle wasn''t renowned for its precision. Its accuracy paled in comparison to the 98K and was even inferior to both the Springfield and Garand. Its real advantage lay in its semi-automatic capability and a larger magazine capacity, allowing ten rounds per load. Hardy''s choice of weapon was simple: familiarity. He knew this rifle inside and out, and he trusted himself to be most effective with a gun he had mastered over time. "Nice shot, boss!" Sean couldn''t help but cheer as he watched Hardy take down another opponent. Ryan gazed at Hardy, his eyes filled with admiration. Had Hardy not sensed the impending danger, Ryan thought, he might have been reduced to nothing but bits and pieces. The enemies were heavily armed, yet Hardy had already eliminated three of them, forcing the others into hiding. The remaining attackers were visibly shaken by Hardy''s marksmanship. They had started with a clear advantage, but now, the tables had turned. "Damn it!" one of them roared, unleashing a flurry of bullets with a machine gun in a desperate attempt to suppress Hardy and his crew. "Bang!" A single gunshot rang out, and the man with the machine gun slumped to the ground. Hardy glanced at the body. "Trigger-happy fool," he muttered. Wild, reckless shooting might be seen as bold in a gang brawl, but on a battlefield, it turned one into an easy target. Hardy figured such a person wouldn''t last more than a few seconds under fire. Another enemy peeked out, just enough to expose his head. Bang! A single shot pierced his hat, and blood began to spill out. The last gunman, now completely terrified, broke into a sprint, desperate to escape. He made it only a few meters before a gunshot sent him crashing to the ground. Silence fell as the gunfire ceased. The street was once again quiet, save for the six lifeless bodies scattered about. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Sean and Reid were still catching their breath, clearly rattled by the intensity of the skirmish. "Boss, what''s our next move?" Sean asked, his voice still shaky. Hardy, keeping his rifle at the ready, stood up and thought for a moment. "We need to clear the area. Load up the bodies and the weapons into the truck," he ordered. "And keep an eye out. Make sure no one''s playing dead." Sean and Reid went to work, checking the bodies. Hardy''s accuracy had left no room for doubt; every target was confirmed dead. As they loaded the bodies, Hardy noticed something about their attire and frowned. "Find something?" Sean asked, glancing over. Hardy nodded slowly. "These guys... they''re Irish." Despite being of the same ethnicity, subtle features, along with their clothing, made it clear to Hardy who they were dealing with. With the bodies and weapons stowed in the truck, Hardy gave his next instructions. "Sean, you and Reid take our truck, get back to the base, and inform Boss Fred about what went down. I''ll handle these bodies and take them out of town to avoid further complications." "Got it, boss," Sean replied. As Sean and Reid drove off in their truck, Hardy climbed into the enemy''s vehicle, hauling the corpses with him as he headed toward the outskirts of the city. Not long after they left, a police car rolled up to the scene. Officers stepped out to find only bloodstains, shell casings, and shattered glass. "Looks like there was quite a shootout here," one officer remarked, observing the evidence scattered on the ground. "Must''ve been some heavy firepower." "I heard there was another shootout nearby," another officer added. "A truck from the Austrian gang got hit, three dead, truck blown to pieces. Probably a gang feud." "Boss said things might heat up," said the first officer, shaking his head. "Looks like it''s already boiling over." "Let''s log the details and get out of here," the second officer suggested. "No need to dig too deep. We know the drill." They noted the scene and left, without any desire to delve deeper into what had transpired. Meanwhile, Hardy had driven the truck to a secluded spot in the woods outside Los Angeles. After stopping, he lit a cigarette, leaning against the truck as he waited. About half an hour later, two vehicles approached. The first was Sean and Reid''s truck. The second belonged to Fred, the Austrian gang''s leader, who arrived with his second-in-command, Alan Payne, and several other key figures. Upon seeing the bodies in the truck, one of the leaders pointed. "I recognize this one. That''s Yates from the North Shore Gang. The rest must be his crew." Fred surveyed the scene, his expression darkening. "Irish, no doubt about it." Fred turned to Hardy. "I heard what happened from Sean. Good work out there." The other leaders nodded in agreement, their respect for Hardy evident. They knew how rare it was to survive such an ambush, let alone turn the tables and eliminate all the attackers. Fred continued, "Before your ambush, another group hit one of our trucks. Alessandro and two of his men were killed, and the truck was torched. Same brutal style ¡ª the Irish again." Alan Payne and the other leaders agreed. It seemed clear that the Irish were behind both attacks. Fred''s voice dropped to a menacing tone. "This isn''t just about robbing goods. Recently, we''ve had bars raided, clubs disrupted. And it wasn''t just the Irish¡ªMexicans, Russians¡ªthey''re all getting in on it. They might be ganging up to take us down." The room fell silent as the gravity of the situation sank in. Alan Payne broke the silence. "So, what''s our move?" Fred''s eyes narrowed. "We need to be on high alert, ready for anything. And we need to strike back hard. Alan, start gathering the crew. We''re gonna show the Irish what happens when they mess with us." The leaders nodded and began to disperse, but Fred paused and turned to Hardy again. "You handled yourself well today. I told you, you''re cut out for this line of work. I''m keeping my eye on you." Fred and the others left, and only then did Sean and Reid approach Hardy. "What now, boss?" Sean asked. Hardy looked at the bodies piled in the truck. "Reid , strip the submachine guns from the truck and find a bag for them. We might need them later." "Sean, get some gasoline." They quickly got to work. Once the guns were secured and the truck doused with gasoline, Hardy lit a match, ignited his cigarette, and flicked the match into the truck. The vehicle erupted in flames. Hardy, Sean, and Reid climbed back into their car and left the woods, the fire blazing behind them. Chapter 15 Its Easy To Start A War But Hard To End It Malton Avenue, ''Cedar Tavern.'' The tavern, an Irish-owned establishment, was bustling with activity around eight in the evening. A black car pulled up on the curb, its tinted windows barely concealing the muzzles of two guns. "Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat!" The sudden burst of gunfire shattered the bar''s windows, sending shards of glass flying. Bullets tore through the bar''s interior, smashing bottles on the shelves and peppering the ceiling with holes. Panic ensued as patrons screamed, dropping to the floor to avoid the deadly hail of bullets. When the gunfire finally ceased, the car sped away, leaving chaos in its wake. After a tense few moments, the patrons cautiously lifted their heads. Realizing the danger had passed, they rushed out of the bar in a panicked frenzy. ''Red Velvet Nightclub'' A light drizzle began to fall, the neon lights reflecting off the puddles on the street, adding a hazy glow to the atmosphere. The Red Velvet Nightclub, a popular spot in the neighborhood, was under the control of the North Shore Gang. Three of their members, relaxed and laughing, exited the club, unaware of the danger lurking nearby. Suddenly, a group of men in dark trench coats emerged from a nearby car. The three North Shore members were caught off guard. They instinctively reached for their guns, but the attackers were faster. "Bang! Bang! Bang!" Several shots rang out, and the three men crumpled to the ground, blood pooling on the wet pavement. Dalton, one of the victims, was in his thirties and had led an attack on Alessandro just the day before. He had come to the club to celebrate, but his night of revelry ended in a pool of blood. Outskirts of Los Angeles In the northern outskirts, there was a farm well-known for hosting greyhound races every weekend. The Irish ran the operation, keeping over a hundred greyhounds. The weekly turnover was substantial, with profits often exceeding ten thousand dollars¡ªa critical income source for the North Shore Gang. That day, however, visitors were greeted by a grim sight: many of the prized greyhounds lay dead. The person in charge immediately notified the gang''s leader, Hemi Weiss. Furious, Weiss arrived at the scene with his deputy, Bugs Moran. Staring down at the lifeless bodies of the dogs, Weiss''s anger boiled over. He crouched next to his favorite black greyhound, a champion that had won him numerous races. "Damn it! Damn it! Who did this?" he shouted, voice trembling with rage. The man in charge, visibly shaken, replied, "I don''t know, boss. When I came in this morning, they were already like this." The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "Find out who''s behind this!" Weiss bellowed. The investigation revealed that someone had poisoned the dog food the night before, but the culprit remained unidentified. Although the perpetrator was unknown, Weiss had a hunch¡ªit was likely the Austrian gang, given the recent tensions and skirmishes between the two groups. Looking at the dead dogs, Weiss felt the sting of the loss. Each greyhound had been meticulously selected, and the financial hit was substantial, with losses totaling between fifty and sixty thousand dollars. Without the dogs, his racing business would be halted, leading to further losses, potentially hundreds of thousands of dollars. The Irish were quick to retaliate. The very next day, they ambushed an Austrian truck delivering alcohol, unloading their guns into it as it parked outside a bar. The gunfire left two Austrian members dead, and the truck and bar in ruins. That same night, seven or eight men in dark coats stormed an Irish-run underground casino. Armed with pistols, shotguns, and machine guns, they burst through the doors, unleashing a torrent of bullets. The three guards at the entrance were gunned down instantly, and the gangsters rushed inside. "Ratatatatata!" The sound of machine guns filled the casino as people screamed and ducked for cover. Some casino staff attempted to fight back but were swiftly taken down. The gangsters, eyeing the pile of cash near the chips counter, forced a cashier to open the door. They stuffed two backpacks with roughly $70,000 to $80,000 and fled. The robbery left the casino in chaos, with terrified patrons vowing never to return. The conflict between the Austrian and North Shore gangs had become blatant, with skirmishes playing out almost daily across Los Angeles. The tension in the city was palpable, and local newspapers, like the Los Angeles Times, reported extensively on the recent violence, hinting at the brewing gang war. An elderly man familiar with Los Angeles''s underworld muttered, "This reminds me of the conflict from seven or eight years ago, when the Austrian gang first arrived. It was the same back then¡ªdaily shootouts, businesses destroyed. The city was in fear for months until things finally settled down." He continued, "But now, after all these years of uneasy peace, it''s starting again. Who knows what Los Angeles will look like when this is over?" A younger man asked, "Why don''t the police do something?" "They do, sometimes. They arrest the shooters, but that''s just a drop in the bucket. They can only prosecute individuals, not dismantle the entire gang. And frankly, the gangs aren''t afraid of jail. In fact, keeping the gangs around benefits the local authorities." "How''s that?" the young man inquired. The old man chuckled, "They use the crime reports to request more funding, better equipment, and more officers from the city council. Where there''s chaos, there''s profit. It''s the way of the world, kid. The politicians know this game all too well." Meanwhile, Dani, a shadowy figure pulling strings behind the scenes, observed the unfolding chaos from his office on the 18th floor. Cigarette smoke curled around his head as he gazed out the window at the city below, a satisfied smirk on his lips. He had orchestrated this conflict, nudging the Irish into a series of attacks against the Austrian gang. When one of these attacks went awry, the Austrians retaliated, further stoking the flames of discord. Dani knew that once hatred took root, it was nearly impossible to uproot. Turning to his advisor, Burstein, Dani boasted, "Once hatred starts to grow, it''s a hard thing to stop. The Irish and Austrians are locked in a cycle of revenge now. Even if they realize it''s a trap, they can''t back down. Weakness invites more trouble." He chuckled darkly, "In the end, they''ll keep fighting until one of them falls. And when that happens, the survivor will be too weakened to fend us off. That''s when we''ll move in and take over Los Angeles." He laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet office, a sinister prelude to the violence yet to come. Chapter 16 Establishing A Gang Hardy felt the intense brutality of the conflict between the Austrian and Irish gangs over the past couple of days. The daily deliveries had become the main battleground, with both factions vying for control. Now, Hardy was down to just three people. Sean and Ryder were reliable in their duties, but their combat skills were mediocre at best. If another ambush were to happen, Hardy knew he''d have to handle it alone. For the last two days, Hardy had been contemplating the idea of finding some reinforcements¡ªfighters who could actually hold their own in a skirmish. It had been a few days since he last saw Bill. After finishing his morning deliveries, Hardy decided to visit Bill at the Murphy Clinic. He walked into the ward without knocking, but as he opened the door, he stumbled upon an unexpected sight. Bill lay back on the hospital bed, eyes closed, a blissful smile spread across his face. The quilt draped over him had a noticeable bump in the middle. A pair of legs protruded from the side of the bed, clad in white nurse''s attire and flesh-colored stockings, while the rest of the person was hidden under the quilt. "Ahem!" Hardy cleared his throat loudly. Bill''s eyes shot open. The movement beneath the quilt abruptly stopped, and a woman emerged, glancing at Hardy. She seemed relieved when she realized he wasn''t hospital staff. She quickly fixed her disheveled hair, murmuring, "I was just... cleaning him." "You two catch up; I''ll be back later this afternoon," she said to Bill, attempting to appear nonchalant. "See you later," Bill replied with a grin. Once she had left, Hardy couldn''t help but tease, "Looks like you''re recovering well. Full of energy, I see." Bill chuckled. "Her name''s Monica. She''s a nurse here. She''s very... attentive." "Attentive indeed," Hardy remarked, smirking. After the light-hearted banter, Hardy shifted to the serious topic on his mind. "Bill, have you heard about the recent skirmishes between the Austrian gang and the Irish?" "Yeah, it''s all over the newspapers," Bill replied. Hardy nodded, his expression becoming more serious. "Since we were attacked last time, I''ve been thinking we''re shorthanded. Things are heating up out there, and it''s getting more dangerous. We need more manpower¡ªpeople who can actually fight." Bill leaned forward, intrigued. "Got anyone in mind?" "Sean and Ryder do their jobs well, but they''re not fighters. I think we should look for some veterans, people like us who know how to handle themselves," Hardy suggested. Bill considered this for a moment. "Who do you have in mind?" "I can reach out to some of our old comrades. And I''ve met quite a few folks while helping out at the clinic. Maybe I can recruit some of them too." Bill paused, then spoke with a serious tone. "Jon, I have a suggestion." If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "What''s that?" "Let''s make this official. You lead, I''ll back you up. We recruit more guys and become the top dogs in the Austrian gang. One day, we could be the ones calling the shots." Bill''s eyes were filled with hope as he looked at Hardy. Hardy pulled out a cigarette, offering one to Bill. They lit up, and Hardy took a long drag, exhaling slowly as he thought about Bill''s proposal. He had been in this world for over half a year now. When he first arrived, Hardy''s goal was to thrive in business. Despite the vast differences between this world and his own, Hardy believed his unique insights could lead him to success. But as his time in the gang went on, Hardy realized something crucial: he had no foundation. It was nearly impossible to get a foothold. Even with a brilliant business idea, how could he even get started without the necessary funds, connections, or knowledge of the local rules and bureaucracy? Every step was a challenge. And even if he managed to overcome those hurdles, he''d likely become a target for those with more power. Without strength to back him up, he''d be torn apart by competitors like a pack of hungry wolves. And behind those wolves were even stronger predators¡ªpowerful leaders and rule-makers in every industry. Breaking through that kind of opposition seemed nearly impossible. Hardy understood all too well that the initial accumulation of capital was often soaked in blood. Gangs might not be the ideal path, but they offered a form of power. Even a small, fledgling gang could intimidate lower-level bureaucrats who might otherwise block his path to his first fortune. If Hardy could succeed in this underworld career and build his own force, he believed he could protect his wealth¡ªat least during its early stages. Of course, he''d have to avoid getting caught or imprisoned and know when to clean up his act. As the cigarette burned down, Hardy made up his mind. He looked at Bill, determination in his eyes. "Bill, are you in?" Bill''s face lit up with a smile. "Absolutely. Just like old times on the battlefield. You lead, and I''ll be your right-hand man. We''re gonna make a lot of money, Hardy." Hardy extended his hand. Bill slapped it with enthusiasm. As Hardy prepared to leave, he added, "Get well soon, and remember to take it easy. Don''t waste all your energy on... extracurricular activities." Bill laughed and waved him off. Back at his place, Hardy pulled a suitcase from under his bed and took out a notebook. It was filled with names, addresses, and contact details. Now that he had decided on his path, Hardy was ready to dedicate himself fully to his new life in the underworld. Meanwhile, in a small restaurant in Orange County, California, Richard was washing dishes in the back kitchen. The sink was piled high with dirty plates. His eyes began to itch, and he rubbed them with the back of his hand. Just then, the overweight restaurant owner barged in. Seeing Richard pause for a moment, he shouted, "Richard! No slacking off! We''re busy! Look at all these plates!" Richard glanced at the boss with his remaining right eye, then bowed his head and resumed his task. The owner turned away, muttering, "If you hadn''t begged me for this job, I wouldn''t have hired a one-eyed guy like you. There are plenty of people looking for work, you know." "No job means sleeping on the streets and eating garbage, so be grateful," he added ??sarcastically. Richard said nothing, enduring the abuse. He couldn''t afford to lose this job. A year ago, he had been fighting the Japanese on the battlefield, a sniper who had taken down countless enemies. But during one battle, his position was exposed, and a mortar shell exploded nearby. Shrapnel had torn into his left eye. Though he survived, he lost the eye. After half a year in the hospital, he was discharged and sent home. His eye wound still ached and often got infected. The continuous medical costs had drained his entire pension. With his family living in a rural area and unable to afford his treatment, Richard had no choice but to find work despite his condition. As a disabled veteran, he could only secure the lowest-paying jobs, enduring the daily insults from his boss. Just then, Hardy entered the restaurant. A waiter approached him and asked what he wanted to eat. "I''m looking for someone¡ªRichard. Does he work here?" Hardy asked. The waiter looked impatient. "Richard? I don''t know any Richard." He turned to leave. Hardy frowned. He had visited Richard''s home earlier, and his family told him Richard worked here. Why was the waiter acting clueless? "He''s the guy with the eye injury," Hardy clarified. The waiter''s expression changed. "Oh, you mean One-Eye. Right, he''s in the back, washing dishes." The nickname "One-Eye" was far from respectful. It seemed Richard wasn''t well-regarded here. "Could you call him out for me? Just tell him an old friend wants to see him," Hardy said, slipping the waiter a $2 tip. The waiter''s demeanor brightened immediately. "Sure, I''ll get him right away." Chapter 17 Richard "A Soldir Life After The War" "Someone is looking for me? Who is it?" Richard was taken aback. He hadn''t expected anyone to seek him out in a city where he knew virtually no one. "I didn''t get the details. Just said he''s an old friend of yours," the waiter replied with a shrug. "Anyways, I''ve delivered the message." He turned on his heel and left, leaving Richard with more ??questions than answers. Richard washed his hands, removed his scarf, and made his way to the front hall. As he entered, his gaze locked onto a familiar face, and a surge of emotions welled up in his chest. "Hardy¡­ I can''t believe it''s you," he murmured, his lone eye misting over. Hardy grinned and pulled Richard into a tight hug. The two men had served together, shoulder to shoulder, in the same squad for years. They had faced life-and-death situations countless times. After Richard''s severe injury and early retirement from the military, they had lost touch for over a year. "How have you been?" Hardy asked, his tone full of genuine concern. Richard sighed heavily. "As you can see, I''m scraping by. Blind in one eye and with no real skills, this is the best job I could find." Hardy''s expression grew serious. "Richard, how would you feel about working with me?" Richard raised an eyebrow. "Working with you? What are you up to these days?" Hardy''s smile returned, but there was a hint of something darker in his eyes. "I''m with the Austrians now¡ªa gang in Los Angeles." Richard blinked in surprise. "You''re running with a gang now?" Hardy gave a slight nod. "Bill brought me in. You remember Bill, don''t you?" "Bill''s in the game too?" Richard said, shaking his head in disbelief. Hardy leaned in and began to explain. "After I got discharged, I ended up in San Diego, working as a bartender because I couldn''t find anything better. One night, some guy tried to mess with one of the waitresses, and I lost it¡ªbeat him up real bad. Ended up in jail for a bit." He paused, recalling the rough days. "Luckily, my lawyer managed to get me off on a technicality, but after that, no one would hire me. That''s when Bill called me over to Los Angeles." Richard listened intently as Hardy continued. "I wanted a legit job at first, but Bill got into some trouble with another gang¡ªthe Spaniards. They nearly killed him. I couldn''t let that slide. I took out six of them and ended up joining the Austrians to protect our turf." Richard''s face showed his shock. "I read in the papers that someone named Cook from the Spanish gang was killed at his home. That was you?" Hardy''s nod was almost imperceptible. "And now there''s a turf war between the Austrians and the Irish, right? It''s all over the news." "Yeah," Hardy said, his tone turning grim. "Things are heating up. That''s why I need more men¡ªpeople I can trust. I came to see if you''d be willing to join me. I won''t lie; it''s dangerous work. But if you don''t want to, we can just catch up, and I''ll be on my way." This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Richard hesitated, thinking of his mother. "Hardy, I''m not afraid of danger. After all, nothing could be worse than what we went through in the war. But I worry about my family. If my mother knew I joined a gang, she''d be heartbroken. She''s always wanted me to find a steady, safe job." Hardy placed a reassuring hand on Richard''s shoulder. "Look, just think about it. Let''s catch up after you''re done with work. We can grab a drink and talk more." Richard nodded. "Alright. We''ll talk later." While they were conversing, the restaurant owner came bustling out of the kitchen, his face flushed with anger. He caught sight of Richard, who was supposed to be washing dishes, sitting at a table chatting instead. "Richard!" the portly owner barked, pointing a greasy finger at him. "The kitchen is overflowing with dirty dishes, and you''re out here chatting? Do I pay you to socialize, or to work? If you don''t get back there right now, you''re out on the street!" Richard stood up, jaw clenched. "I''m going back now." The owner sneered. "Oh, no, it''s not that simple. You''re losing two days'' pay for this stunt. My rules." Richard''s meager wages barely covered his basic needs¡ª$120 a month. After rent, food, medical bills, and sending money to his family, there was hardly anything left. Losing even two days'' pay would make his already precarious situation even worse. His eye injury constantly reminded him of his plight. The military''s half-hearted surgery had left him with persistent inflammation and required ongoing treatment. A more effective surgery or even a prosthetic eye could improve his prospects, but both were well beyond his financial reach. Richard''s frustration simmered just below the surface. Today, Hardy had offered him a way out¡ªa chance to change his circumstances, even if it meant embracing a life his mother might disapprove of. The owner continued to berate him, pushing him closer to his breaking point. Richard glanced at Hardy and suddenly made up his mind. "I''ve changed my mind, Hardy." Hardy, sensing the shift in Richard''s resolve, grinned. "Glad to hear it." At that moment, Hardy felt a surge of gratitude toward the irate owner. If the man hadn''t pushed Richard so hard, he might not have agreed so quickly. The owner, oblivious to the change, kept yelling. "Richard, I''m warning you! Get back to the kitchen and scrub every dish, and while you''re at it, clean the whole damn place!" "Enough!" Richard''s voice was calm but firm. The owner blinked in surprise. "What did you say?" "I said, enough." Richard''s expression was steely, his tone cold. The owner''s face turned red with fury. "That''s it! You''re fired! And you can forget about getting paid this month. Now, get out!" Without warning, Hardy drew a revolver and pressed it against the owner''s cheek. The man''s eyes widened in terror, his bravado evaporating instantly. "W-What are you doing?" "I don''t like it when people talk too much," Hardy said quietly. "Now, pay my friend his wages. All of it. Right now." The owner nodded frantically. "O-Okay, okay!" He hurried to the cash register, pulled out a stack of bills, and handed them to Richard with trembling hands. Richard took the money and counted out ninety dollars. "I worked twenty days this month. This is what I''m owed. I don''t want a cent more." He tossed the excess money back onto the counter. "Let''s go, Hardy." Hardy chuckled, following Richard out of the restaurant. The owner slumped against the wall, a wave of relief washing over him as the two men exited. Back in the car, Richard let out a laugh. "You know, Hardy, I haven''t felt this alive in a long time. I think I made the right call today." Hardy smiled. "I''m glad you feel that way." They drove to a nearby bar, shared a few drinks, and then made their way to Richard''s rural home. There, Richard explained to his parents that he had found a job in Los Angeles that paid three times what he was making now. His parents were overjoyed and asked him about the nature of the job. "Transport driver," Richard said with a grin. "It''s a great gig." The next day, Hardy and Richard hit the road. As they drove, Richard asked where they were headed. Hardy smiled. "You''re the first recruit. Now, we need to find more of our old friends. Next up, Henry." "Henry?" Richard''s face lit up. "He was our squad''s best scout. Is he out of the army too?" Hardy nodded. "Yeah, he got out a bit after you did. He''s been working on a cattle farm, but he''s agreed to join us. We''ll pick him up next." Richard''s smile widened. "I can''t wait to see him. It''d be great to get the old squad back together for a drink." Hardy''s grin matched Richard''s enthusiasm. "Don''t worry. We''ll have a lot of familiar faces joining us soon." Chapter 18 Gathering The Team A Ranch in Burbank Hardy''s car pulled up to a modest farmstead, its tires crunching on the gravel. A weathered farmer emerged from the barn, eyeing Hardy and Richard curiously. "Who are you here to see?" he asked, his brow furrowed with suspicion. "We''re friends of Henry," Hardy replied, smiling. "We spoke with him on the phone earlier." The farmer gave a curt nod. "Follow me, I''ll take you to him." They followed the farmer through a pathway that led to a cattle pen. There, Henry was knee-deep in chores, wearing jeans and mud-caked boots, wielding a pitchfork with determination. When he heard voices calling his name, he turned, a broad smile breaking across his face. He quickly tossed the pitchfork aside. "Hardy! Richard!" he shouted, rushing over to embrace them both. "Good to see you, Henry," Hardy said warmly. "Ready to head out with us?" Bang~! Henry snapped to attention, his posture rigid. "Reporting to Captain Hardy: Henry is ready to rejoin the team, sir!" He quickly informed his employer, grabbed his belongings, and tossed his backpack into Hardy''s car. As they drove off, he leaned out the window, waving at the rancher. "See you, Logan! I''m off to Los Angeles for a new start!" Logan waved back, a wistful smile on his face. "Good luck, Henry. Stay safe," he muttered under his breath, "Ah, to be young again." As they drove away, Hardy turned to Henry. "Have you heard anything about Madman? I couldn''t reach him by phone." Henry let out a sigh, shaking his head. "Madman¡ªMatthew Settle¡ªis in jail right now." Matthew, known as "Madman" for his reckless abandon in combat, had earned his nickname for his fearlessness and unpredictability in a fight. Hardy looked surprised. "Jail? What happened?" Henry explained, "After he got back, he took up driving trucks. We met a few times. A couple of months ago, he got into a brawl with another driver at a diner. You know how Madman fights¡ªhe messed the guy up pretty bad. Left him unrecognizable, so they locked him up." "He could have posted bail, but he didn''t have the money. If he can''t pay the compensation, he might be stuck in there for a year or two." "How much is the bail?" Hardy asked. "Two thousand dollars," Henry replied. Hardy whistled softly. "That''s a lot of money. More than most folks make in ten months." He thought for a moment. "Which prison is he in?" "San Marinos Prison," Henry said. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Hardy nodded and turned the car toward San Marinos. A few hours later, they were sitting across from Matthew in the visitation room. Matthew''s eyes widened in surprise. "Hardy, Henry, Richard¡ªwhat brings you all here?" Hardy slipped a guard a ten-dollar bill, who turned his back to give them privacy. He tossed a cigarette to Matthew, who eagerly lit it, taking a deep drag. "How''s life inside treating you?" Hardy asked, a smirk on his lips. Matthew chuckled, a wry smile crossing his face. "At first, a few guys tried to give me a hard time, but I put them in their place. Now, I''ve got my own crew here. It''s not bad, but I''d rather be out." Hardy grinned. "We were thinking of bailing you out, but it sounds like you''re having too much fun in here." Matthew''s expression changed instantly. "Boss, if you''ve got the money, get me out of here. It''s fun, but not that fun." Henry laughed. "What, tired of your cushy life already?" Matthew nodded eagerly. "Nothing beats freedom." As they left the prison, Hardy handed Henry two thousand dollars. "You handle the bail. I''ve got someone else to find." Henry saluted. "Got it, boss. We''ll have him out in no time." Matthew''s case was straightforward; with the bail paid, he would be free in a couple of days. "Who''s next on the list?" Richard asked as they got back into the car. "Cannonball," Hardy replied. "Neil McDonald. Best demolitions expert we ever had." They found Neil''s house and knocked on the door. Neil opened it, his face lighting up when he saw Hardy and Richard. "Well, I''ll be! Look who''s here!" They exchanged warm embraces and entered the house, which was sparsely furnished and looked well-worn. A young woman, pale and frail, appeared from a back room. "This is my wife, Jenny," Neil introduced. Jenny greeted them with a weak smile, then broke into a harsh cough. "You should rest," Neil said gently, guiding her back to bed. "I''ll take care of the coffee." A few minutes later, Neil returned with steaming mugs. Hardy looked at him, concern etched on his face. "What''s wrong with your wife?" "Tuberculosis," Neil said quietly. "It''s bad." Hardy frowned. "Isn''t there treatment?" "Yeah, penicillin. But it''s so expensive. I just can''t afford it," Neil replied, his voice heavy with frustration. Penicillin, just starting to be widely produced, was rare and expensive, almost worth its weight in gold. Hardy considered for a moment. "Neil, I understand you need to care for Jenny, but she needs proper treatment. Come to Los Angeles with us. We''ll figure something out together." Neil hesitated but then nodded. "You''re right. It''s her best chance." They quickly packed up, and by evening, they were back on the road to Los Angeles. Hardy took Jenny straight to a clinic. After examining her, Dr. Murphy said there was hope but warned that treatment would be costly. "We''ll handle the costs, Doctor," Hardy assured him. The nurse came over shortly after. "Mr. Hardy, we need a thousand-dollar deposit for the treatment." Hardy''s pockets were nearly empty. The money he''d saved from recent jobs and the cash he got from a certain deal totaled only a little over two thousand dollars. After bailing out Matthew, he had just a few hundred left. "I''ll be back," Hardy said, leaving Neil with Jenny. He returned an hour later, having pawned his gold watch, and handed over the deposit. Neil noticed immediately. "Hardy, what happened to your watch?" Hardy shrugged. "Just a trinket. What matters is getting Jenny well." Neil, touched by Hardy''s sacrifice, didn''t say anything but resolved to repay the favor one day. Once Jenny was settled, Neil seemed relieved, his burdens lightened. "What''s next, boss?" "Let''s wait for Henry and Madman to arrive. I''ve got a couple more friends to track down¡ªLeo and Kerry, two former Marines. They should be here soon." A few days later, the group was fully assembled. Hardy took Richard and Neil to visit Bill, who was recuperating at the same hospital. They found Bill in bed, a charming nurse feeding him fruit. "Well, well," Bill grinned. "Look who''s come to visit!" After exchanging pleasantries, Hardy explained the plan. "We''re getting the old team back together. Once everyone''s here, we''ll be ready for anything¡ªeven those Irish troublemakers." Bill beamed. "I knew you''d pull us together, Hardy. We''ll show them what we''re made of." Hardy chuckled. "Just make sure you''re ready to fight, Bill. We''re counting on you." Bill gave a thumbs-up. "I''ll be up and running in no time, ready to join the fray." Hardy smiled. "That''s what I like to hear. We''ve got work to do." Chapter 19 Choosing Guns Long-Distance Bus Station Two young men stepped out of the car, their eyes immediately landing on Hardy, who was waiting beside his own vehicle. The scene felt like a replay of when Bill had first picked up Hardy. "Leo, Kerry," Hardy greeted them warmly. "Hardy," they replied in unison. The three men embraced. Hardy had met Leo and Kerry aboard a medical transport ship when they were all recovering from injuries. During his recovery, Hardy quickly regained his strength and started helping Catherine care for the other wounded. It was through this work that he came to ??know Leo and Kerry. Both men had been elite soldiers, a fact easily gleaned from their nicknames. Leo, known as "Wild Wolf," was a formidable fighter. Kerry, called "Tank," stood over 1.9 meters tall and had the strength to match his size, having been a machine gunner. Hardy had tended to both men''s wounds and spent hours at their bedside, chatting as they recuperated. They had become close friends over time, and when Hardy eventually left the ship, he made sure to exchange contact information with them. When Hardy needed trustworthy people, Leo and Kerry were among the first who came to mind. A quick phone call, and they readily agreed to join him. "Hop in," Hardy said with a smile. "I want you to meet some friends." The car soon pulled up outside the Bunny Nightclub. Inside, Leo and Kerry were introduced to Sean, Ryder, Richard, and Neil. Hardy informed them, "We''ve got a few more on the way¡ªHenry and Matthew should be here in a couple of days. Bill''s still in the hospital, but with everyone here, we''ll soon be ten strong." They all settled in with drinks, swapping stories about their lives after the military. Leo had found work in a garage, fixing cars. Kerry had taken a job making shoes in a small workshop. The others had found similar modest jobs¡ªRichard was washing dishes, Neil worked in a factory, Henry was tending cattle, and Matthew was driving trucks. The conversation flowed easily as they shared their frustrations about life after the military, wanting more than just to survive. They drank heavily, enjoying the camaraderie and the idea of a better future together. For now, they would bunk at Bill''s house until they found a more permanent base. Just then, the nightclub''s security chief approached Hardy with a hesitant expression. "Hardy, I need to talk to you about something," the chief said cautiously. "What''s up?" Hardy replied, curious. "Are we still holding those Russians in the cellar?" the chief asked. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Hardy blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He had been so busy assembling his new team and making contacts that he''d completely forgotten about the Russians. He did a quick mental calculation. "They''ve been down there a week now, right?" The security chief nodded. "You told us to starve them for three days, which we did. After that, you didn''t give any more instructions, so we''ve kept them locked up. They were getting desperate, so we''ve been giving them minimal food¡ªjust some bread and water." Hardy nodded thoughtfully. The Russians were big guys, especially Big Ivan, who stood over two meters tall. They were likely on the brink of collapse from hunger. "Good thing they''re still alive," Hardy mused, considering his options. The Russians had caused trouble in the nightclub, but killing them seemed excessive. Letting them go could invite retaliation. An idea began to form in his mind. Turning to the group, he said, "Come on, we''ve got something to take care of." Richard, Neil, Sean, Leo, and the others got to their feet, following Hardy to the cellar. As they opened the heavy door, a foul stench hit them¡ªa mix of sweat, excrement, and despair. The six Russians, led by Big Ivan, were in a sorry state, having endured a week of misery. When Big Ivan saw Hardy, he broke down, his tough demeanor shattered. "Mr. Hardy, please, let us go," he pleaded, his voice trembling. Hardy looked down at them, considering his next move. "I need more men," he said, "Are you willing to work for me?" Big Ivan stared at Hardy, stunned by the unexpected proposition. He wasn''t a fool; he quickly understood the alternative. "We''re willing," he agreed hastily. "We''ll do whatever you ask, Mr. Hardy." Hardy''s gaze bore into him, testing his sincerity. Sensing the need to prove his loyalty, Big Ivan added, "I swear by God, we will follow you." The others, seeing their leader submit, quickly echoed his vow, each swearing an oath to Hardy. Satisfied, Hardy nodded. "Alright, get cleaned up, eat something decent, and report back to me tomorrow." The Russians, feeling like they had been granted a reprieve from death, were escorted back to their place by Sean and the others. Once back at their hideout, they wasted no time. Ignoring their squalid state, they demanded food and devoured everything in sight¡ªbread, jam, even the soup they normally sneered at tasted like a feast. After they had eaten their fill, one of Ivan''s men turned to him. "Are we really joining Hardy''s crew, boss?" Big Ivan looked thoughtful. "We''ve been running small-time scams for years with nothing to show for it. Hardy is sharp, and he''s got vision. Maybe working for him is our best shot. Besides," he added, "we''ve already sworn an oath in God''s name." The next day, Ivan and his men showed up at Hardy''s place, ready to follow orders. Hardy had gained another set of loyal followers but decided against keeping them close. Instead, he instructed them to continue their usual activities, ready to mobilize when needed. Meanwhile, Matthew was released from jail. With a little financial persuasion, the case against him¡ªnever a serious one to begin with¡ªwas dropped. After a few days, he and Henry arrived in Los Angeles to join Hardy''s burgeoning crew. Within a week, Hardy had built a reliable team. But while he had the manpower, he still needed equipment. He had some firearms and a few captured submachine guns, but they weren''t enough for a serious operation. Knowing each man preferred different weapons, Hardy led them to Old Mike''s gun shop. "Old Mike, I need to buy some arms," Hardy began, "but I''ve got a little problem¡ªI''m short on cash. Can you extend me some credit?" Old Mike scratched his chin, thinking it over. "Sure, but it''ll cost you¡ª30% interest." "Deal." Hardy turned to his men. "Pick whatever you want," he announced. "Let''s gear up." A cheer went up, and they surged into the shop like kids in a candy store. When they emerged, each man was armed to the teeth with pistols, rifles, and shotguns. Kerry, the former machine gunner, had picked up an MG34, a heavy-duty piece with formidable firepower. Neil, always the explosives expert, had a bag full of grenades, mines, and enough materials to make a small arsenal of bombs. Hardy smiled. His team was ready for whatever came next. Chapter 20 The Austrian Gang Meeting Old Mike meticulously calculated the accounts. Including the principal and 30% interest, the total exceeded $3,800¡ªa substantial sum. "It''s no big deal; it''s all on credit," Hardy remarked casually as he signed off. Back at Bill''s place, now serving as their headquarters, the crew gathered in the living room, getting familiar with their firearms. Seeing their enthusiasm and the number of guns, Hardy mused that it would almost be a waste not to put them to some illicit use¡ªlike a bank heist. But, of course, robbing a bank was off the table. There were far smarter ways to make money without attracting the attention of law enforcement. "Alright, folks, let''s talk about our next move," Hardy announced. All eyes turned to him. The crew hadn''t come to Los Angeles for a quiet life; they knew a gang war was brewing. But none of them flinched¡ªthey were all seasoned veterans, ready for a fight, with the prospect of action lighting a spark in their eyes. "I mentioned before that tensions are high between the Austrian gang and several other factions in LA, including the Irish, Spanish, and Mexican gangs. We need more intel on these groups." "You''re all new faces in town, so it''ll be easier for you to gather information without raising suspicion. Henry and Matthew, you''ll focus on the Irish. Neil and Leo, you''re on the Spanish." Henry, Matthew, Neil, and Leo nodded in agreement. "Sean and Ryder, keep handling our day-to-day operations. Richard and Kerry, stay sharp and be ready to counter any surprise attacks." Everyone acknowledged their roles without hesitation. After considering the situation, Hardy called Big Ivan and instructed him to keep tabs on the Mexican and Polish gangs, along with any others that might pose a threat. Big Ivan promised to dig deep and report back with whatever he found. The next morning, after a quick briefing, the team dispersed. Hardy, Sean, and Ryder took a truck out for deliveries, while Richard and Kerry followed behind in Bill''s Ford, prepared for any unexpected trouble. The Ford''s trunk was packed with an arsenal, just in case. The days passed quietly¡ªalmost too quietly¡ªgiving the illusion that all was calm in Los Angeles. But that calm was shattered a week later. "Blare¡ªblare¡ª" A loud horn echoed as a massive container ship docked at the Port of Los Angeles. As soon as the ship pulled in, a fleet of cars arrived, spilling out dozens of customs officers and police. "Search the ship!" ordered a supervisor. Customs officials boarded, opening a container filled with wooden crates. Inside, they found bottles of red wine, packed in straw. "Chief, it''s French wine," a subordinate reported. The supervisor inspected the contents and nodded. "Seems our informant was right. Confiscate it and conduct a full inspection." The team quickly got to work. They moved the crates to a warehouse at the port, stacking them high. Upon closer inspection, the shipment contained various high-end French wines: Mouton, Latour, Petrus, Margaux, and several other premium brands. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. In total, there were 430 crates, holding over 2,500 bottles. "Chief, the count''s complete. All French wine, valued at more than $250,000. The customs paperwork listed this shipment as toys and fishing gear. Clearly, the goods don''t match the documents." According to customs duties, toys and fishing gear were tax-exempt. However, these smuggled wines would incur import duties exceeding 80%. In total, the shipment was worth over $450,000. "What did the freighter''s captain say?" asked the supervisor. "He claims he knows nothing about it." The supervisor sneered. "Detain him for now. Impound the shipment and report it to higher authorities." News of the confiscated shipment quickly reached Fred, leader of the Austrian gang. When Fred heard that the wine had been seized, he nearly smashed his phone in fury. That was $250,000 worth of product. With a street value of over $450,000. He was convinced that rival gangs had orchestrated this; otherwise, customs wouldn''t have been tipped off so precisely, intercepting the shipment before it even reached the port. This was a massive loss. Fred thought for a moment, then dialed another number, waiting as the line rang. He felt tense. If this didn''t go well, he wasn''t sure how his superiors would react. Finally, a deep voice answered. "Who is this?" Fred swallowed. "Mr. Siegel, it''s Fred." "What''s going on, Fred?" Fred carefully explained the situation with the seized wine shipment. When he finished, an angry voice exploded from the other end. "Fred, you''ve disappointed me. Your actions are weak. All I''ve seen from you lately is hesitation. Now, I want you to retaliate. Hit them back." "I''ll work on smoothing things over with customs; maybe we can recover some of the goods, but it''s going to cost us," Fred muttered, lowering his voice, not daring to argue. After the call, Fred clenched his fists. He knew his boss was desperate for money and had already siphoned funds from their operations. The boss had warned him to be more aggressive in making money, and now, after this screw-up, it was no wonder he was furious. Fred called in his second-in-command, Allen Payne. "Allen, customs seized our shipment. Boss Siegel is livid and wants us to retaliate. What''s your plan?" Allen pondered for a moment. "First, mobilize the strike team and hit back at the Irish. Second, since our regular business is suffering, increase commission rates to motivate our people. Third, encourage more freelance jobs. Let''s adjust the profit split from 40/60 to 30/70 in favor of the gang." Retaliation was inevitable¡ªthey needed to hit the Irish hard to keep them in check. With regular operations under strain, increasing the cut would incentivize better performance. As for freelance jobs, those could include anything from running gambling dens, loan sharking, controlling bars and brothels, to theft, robbery, kidnapping, and extortion¡ªprofitable, if risky, ventures. Previously, the gang took 40% of profits from freelance jobs, leaving 60% for the members. Payne suggested adjusting the split to 30/70, believing it would further motivate their men. "Alright, that''s the plan. Call all the lieutenants and area leaders for a meeting this afternoon to assign tasks," Fred ordered. Hardy received the summons and made his way to the headquarters for the meeting. In the conference room, Fred sat at the head of the table with Allen Payne beside him. Around them were more than twenty lieutenants. Hardy recognized a few faces¡ªwarehouse managers and district bosses¡ªbut many were unfamiliar, like the casino manager, smuggling coordinator, and loan sharking overseer. Each of them ran different operations and rarely crossed paths. Many of them were seeing Hardy for the first time and eyed him with curiosity. Fred opened the meeting. "We''ve hit a rough patch lately. The Irish and other gangs have banded together against us. Our bars, nightclubs, casinos, and delivery routes have been under attack, causing us significant losses." "Today, customs intercepted a container of French wine we shipped in. No need to guess who''s responsible¡ªit''s obvious our rivals tipped them off. This has cost us dearly." The room fell silent. Everyone listened intently, knowing Fred had called this meeting to make an important announcement. Fred raised three fingers. "We were betrayed¡ªsomeone from within leaked our shipping schedule, down to the container number. We''ve got a rat." The smuggling coordinator''s face darkened. He hadn''t betrayed anyone, but as the one overseeing this operation, any problems reflected poorly on him. "Williams, I''ll have someone work with you to find the traitor. Once we have them, they''ll disappear¡ªpermanently." "This rat cost us over half a million dollars," Fred growled, his voice tight with anger. Williams, the smuggling supervisor, quickly stood and said, "Yes, boss. I''ll take care of it. We''ll find the bastard responsible!" Chapter 21 Planning A Robbery "The second issue we need to address is the ongoing conflicts with rival gangs, which have significantly disrupted our operations," Fred declared. "This has resulted in a manpower shortage in several areas. Penn and I have decided to revise the revenue-sharing model. We''re increasing the business share from 10% to 15%, allowing you more funds to recruit additional members." A murmur of approval spread among the leaders. A 5% increase might not sound like much, but it represented a substantial boost in income. "And thirdly," Fred continued, raising a final finger, "the split from your independent operations will be adjusted from a 40-60 ratio to 30-70 in favor of the gang." The leaders couldn''t hide their delight at the news. The Austrian gang''s daily operations included underground gambling, loan sharking, smuggling, control over nightlife venues, and a substantial stake in the drug trade dominated by the Spanish. Beyond these, members engaged in other illicit ventures¡ªeverything from theft, robbery, and kidnapping to arms dealing and black market activities. Essentially, they had a hand in nearly every illegal enterprise imaginable. With the additional 10% share, it was undoubtedly good news. Fred concluded, "Given the current tensions, we must strengthen our ranks and ensure more profits for everyone. That means recruiting more members. Our power is vital to surviving these turbulent times." On the way back, Ryder drove while Hardy sat in the back, lost in thought. He saw the chaos among the gangs as a golden opportunity¡ªa chance for expansion and growth. As they cruised through the lively streets, lined with towering buildings, Los Angeles in the 1940s was already a thriving metropolis, bustling with its ports, oil fields, and booming population, not to mention the world-famous Hollywood. To Hardy, the city was an untapped goldmine. Back at Bill''s residence, Hardy gathered his closest associates in the living room. "Henry, Matthew, Neil, Leo¡ªafter a week of investigation, what have you uncovered?" Hardy asked. Henry exchanged glances with the others. "I''ll start. Matthew and I scouted the Irish territory. They hold a lot of power there, and the locals are clearly intimidated by them. They''re involved in multiple illegal businesses¡ªdrug trafficking, gambling, smuggling, loan sharking, debt collection, theft, extortion, protection rackets, arms trafficking, human trafficking, and more." "The Irish have over 300 core members, plus even more associates. They''re a serious force. Due to time constraints, Matthew and I could only get close to a few of their businesses¡ªbars, nightclubs, and a couple of casinos." Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. "Did you find anything about the gang disputes?" Hardy asked. "Yes," Henry confirmed. "As for the Spanish gang, we gathered some intel there too. A few days ago, Dani, their leader, and his advisor visited the Irish''s Hoffman Bar and met with their boss, Hemi Weiss." Hardy''s interest sharpened. The timing Henry mentioned lined up with when he''d taken out Cook. Since then, tensions had escalated in the Austrian gang''s territory. It was becoming clear the Spaniards were stirring up trouble, sending provocateurs like Big Ivan to disrupt places like the Bunny Bar. Turning to Neil and Leo, Hardy asked, "What did you find out about the Spaniards?" Neil responded quickly. "Their main operations revolve around cocaine distribution, underground casinos, illegal boxing, and loan sharking. Their drug trade is the biggest in Los Angeles¡ªbigger than the Irish or the Mexicans." "We also confirmed what Henry said. Dani has been meeting with Irish and Mexican leaders. His advisor''s been in talks with Russian and Polish contacts. They even reached out to the French, but the French seem to be avoiding any involvement." Hardy''s suspicions solidified: the recent gang clashes were likely fueled by the Spaniards. He knew this turmoil traced back to his own actions¡ªspecifically, killing Cook. That single event had set off a chain reaction, pushing the Spaniards to align with other gangs against the Austrians. But Hardy doubted Dani was after revenge for Cook¡ªit was more about seizing new opportunities for profit. Having organized his thoughts, Hardy addressed his team. "Brothers, we''re in a tight spot financially. It''s time for a big move." The room buzzed with anticipation. They all felt the financial strain. Liquor deliveries to local bars were only bringing in about $1,000 a week¡ªnot nearly enough to cover their expenses. Neil''s wife was still in the hospital, with medical bills piling up. Hardy had already pawned his gold watch to help cover the costs, but more bills loomed. Richard needed a prosthetic eye, and his medication wasn''t cheap. Matthew, still out on bail, was dealing with an unresolved case that would likely require a hefty settlement. Everyone had their own financial burdens, and Hardy''s mention of a big move had them on edge with excitement. "Are we hitting a bank or an armored truck?" Matthew asked eagerly. In their world, a "big job" usually meant robbing a bank or a cash transport. "No," Hardy shook his head. "We''re not robbing a bank or an armored truck." "Bank security is too tight, and their vaults are nearly impossible to crack. As for armored trucks, they rarely carry more than $20,000 to $30,000. That''s a decent haul, especially for 1945, but not worth the risk. The authorities would come down hard on us." "So, what''s the plan?" someone asked. A grin spread across Hardy''s face. "We''re going to rob the Spaniards." "An armored truck might hold a limited sum, but the Spanish casinos and loan shark operations are flush with cash¡ªfar more than any armored truck. Plus, their security is nowhere near as tight as a bank vault or a cash truck." Given the growing animosity between them, Hardy knew this was the perfect time to strike the Spaniards. In a world where criminals preyed on criminals, the authorities would likely turn a blind eye. Hardy looked to his team, issuing orders: "Richard, Henry, Matthew, Neil, Leo, Kerry¡ªyou''re all unknown faces. Find out exactly where the Spaniards keep their cash. I want precise details. Once we have that, we''ll plan the job." "Got it!" they responded in unison, their voices brimming with excitement. Robbing rival gangsters didn''t scare them. In fact, it thrilled them. Chapter 22 Gathering Informations McKinsey Club From the outside, the McKinsey Club appeared to be a private bar, exclusive to members. However, beneath this facade was a high-end underground casino, known only to those in the inner circle. During the day, it was quiet and unassuming, but by nightfall, it came alive with vibrant energy. A Lincoln sedan rolled into the parking lot, about two hundred meters from the club''s entrance. The lot was filled with cars. A middle-aged man in a black suit stepped out, grinning. He had just left his lover''s place and was in high spirits. "I''m going to win big tonight," he muttered confidently. As he closed the car door, two figures emerged behind him. "Bang!" A wooden stick struck him on the head. His eyes rolled back as he collapsed, unconscious. "Matthew, you didn''t kill him, did you?" Henry asked, sounding worried. Matthew chuckled. "Relax, I''m a professional." They moved quickly. Matthew searched the man''s pockets while Henry pulled out a rope and began tying him up. They stuffed a torn towel into his mouth and covered his head with a black cloth bag. Their actions were efficient and practiced. They opened the trunk and tossed the unconscious man inside like a sack of potatoes. After straightening their suits, they walked toward the club entrance. Under a nearby streetlight, Henry checked the man''s wallet. Inside, they found a pristine McKinsey Club membership card and a few business cards. "Kevin Madion, Director of the Credit Department, City Bank of Los Angeles," Henry read aloud with a grin. "Well, from now on, I''m Kevin Madion''s cousin." "Tough break for your cousin," Matthew quipped with a grin. They found over three hundred dollars in the wallet, which Henry pocketed with satisfaction. At the club entrance, two imposing doormen stepped forward. "Gentlemen, may I see your membership cards?" Henry handed over Kevin Madion''s card. The doorman examined it and then looked at Henry. "Sir, this card belongs to Mr. Madion. I know him personally." "Kevin''s my cousin," Henry said smoothly. "He told me there''s some fun to be had here and gave me his card to check it out. Is there a problem?" The doorman hesitated before stepping aside. "In that case, gentlemen, enjoy your evening." As they walked in, Henry asked, "By the way, how does one get a membership card here? If it''s as fun as Kevin says, we might want to join ourselves." Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! "A deposit of $1,000 and an annual membership fee of $500 will suffice," the doorman replied. "Not bad," Henry remarked casually, though he knew he couldn''t scrape together a hundred dollars if his life depended on it. Inside, the club was lavishly decorated, bustling with guests. Some sipped coffee while others chatted at the bar. The women were dressed in elegant, eye-catching attire. Henry and Matthew knew exactly why they were there. They ordered drinks at the bar, observing their surroundings. Conversations revolved around gambling¡ªcheers from winners and feigned indifference from the losers. A young woman clung to an elderly man in his sixties as they discussed their gambling plans. The woman suggested betting big, while the man preferred poker. Henry and Matthew exchanged a glance before casually following the pair at a safe distance. The couple descended a short staircase to the basement, where they approached a door guarded by two bodyguards. The guards opened the door without hesitation. The sound of slot machines and lively chatter filled the air¡ªMcKinsey Club''s underground casino. The elderly man and the young woman headed to the cashier to exchange chips. Henry and Matthew observed closely, taking in every detail. Through a glass window, they saw stacks of chips and a suitcase brimming with cash. When it was their turn, Henry handed over the $300 from Kevin''s wallet and exchanged it for chips, splitting them with Matthew. "Let''s split up and observe," Henry whispered. "Play a little, but keep your eyes open." "Got it," Matthew nodded. Three hours later, they regrouped after losing all their chips. Despite the losses, their mission was a success¡ªthey had gathered plenty of useful information. Back in the parking lot, they climbed into Kevin''s Lincoln and drove to a newly rented warehouse in a rough neighborhood under Austrian gang control¡ªan ideal spot for their operations, far from police patrols. "Boss, we''ve done our recon," Henry reported to Hardy with a smile. He and Matthew laid out the details and even sketched a rough layout of the casino. "The exchange counter is here, and the cash is stored in this room," Matthew pointed to a spot on the sketch. "How much do you think is in there?" Hardy asked. Henry thought for a moment. "When we left, there were about a hundred people in the casino. It was peak time. Based on what I saw at the chip exchange, I''d estimate seventy to eighty thousand dollars in circulation." Matthew suddenly remembered. "Oh, boss, when I was playing cards, I overheard that there''s going to be a blackjack tournament the night after tomorrow. The place will be packed, with even more cash around." Hardy nodded, seeing the opportunity. "Good. We''ll make our move then. Rest up for now. We''ll finalize our plans once Richard and Neil return from their scouting." As Henry stood to leave, he hesitated, then turned back. "Boss, there''s one more thing. To get into the club, we had to, uh, ''borrow'' someone''s identity. He''s the credit director at a bank. We''ve still got him tied up in the trunk. What should we do with him?" Hardy''s eyes widened. "You kidnapped someone?" "We didn''t have a choice," Henry explained. "The club''s membership is strict, and we needed his card to get in." Matthew chimed in, "I say we tie him to a rock and toss him in the Los Angeles River." Hardy shook his head. "We can do bad things, but we can''t be bad people." Henry and Matthew exchanged confused glances. Wasn''t that the same thing? Hardy clarified, "We''re gangsters, yes. We rob, run loan sharking, and sell illicit goods. If necessary, we kill. But we do this to survive and thrive in a world where the strong prey on the weak. Even legitimate businesses operate on similar principles. But we don''t kill without reason. That crosses a line into darkness, where there''s no coming back." Henry and Matthew nodded, understanding. "So, what do we do with him?" Matthew asked. "Just let him go?" "Of course not," Hardy replied. "Lock him in the cellar. Tell him he''s been kidnapped and needs to pay a ransom to be released. We''ll let him go after the operation is done." Henry and Matthew blinked. Did that really make Hardy a good guy? Hardy wasn''t interested in extortion. His main concern was keeping the operation secure and avoiding any loose ends that could jeopardize their plans. Chapter 23 Operation Began RS Richard and Neil Return The two had gone to scout the Spaniard''s underground boxing ring. Neil reported, "There are seven to eight matches a night at the boxing ring. The cash in circulation is around $30,000 to $40,000, and they have six armed security guards." $30,000 to $40,000, Hardy thought, wasn¡¯t enough. It wasn¡¯t worth risking a conflict with the Spaniards over such a small amount. As they were discussing the situation, Leo and Kerry returned. Leo entered the room, visibly excited. "Boss, we made a big discovery at the Spanish loan shark company." Leo and Kerry had visited the Spanish loan shark company, posing as businessmen looking to open a shoe factory in Los Angeles. They claimed they didn¡¯t have enough funds and needed an emergency loan. Kerry, who had previously worked in a shoe factory, was able to speak convincingly about the business. When asked how much they wanted to borrow, Kerry said they were looking for $15,000. "What assets do you have, how will you use the money, and how do you plan to repay it?" asked the loan company staff. Kerry explained they had already rented a factory and spent $20,000 on machinery and some raw materials. The only problem was that they were short on materials to complete a large order they had received, which would generate immediate revenue upon completion. The loan shark company seemed interested, as this kind of loan was good business for them. The staff member mentioned that the loan would require collateral and said they would send someone to inspect the factory. Kerry agreed, knowing it was all a bluff anyway. During the negotiations, people from the loan shark company moved in and out, and Leo kept a close eye on everything. Some workers carried boxes, their conversations mentioning the casino, indicating that it was likely money from the gambling operations. Others talked about the company¡¯s income from various businesses like bars, nightclubs, drugs, and more. Leo looked at Hardy and said, "Boss, I think the Spanish loan shark company is also their financial hub. All the funds seem to pass through there for review. If that''s the case, there could be a lot of money there." Hardy considered the operations of the Austrian gang. Their loan shark and finance companies were integrated, so it made sense that the Spaniards operated similarly. But how much money was stored there was still unclear. "Boss, which target do you think we should hit?" Henry asked. Everyone turned to Hardy, waiting for his decision. Hardy weighed his options and then made up his mind. "The casino!" "The blackjack tournament is happening the day after tomorrow. We¡¯ll strike that night. Let¡¯s start planning." Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. The men nodded eagerly, paying close attention to Hardy¡¯s instructions. "Sean and Ryder, you two will drive. You know the streets of Los Angeles best." Sean and Ryder nodded in agreement. "Steal two cars for the operation. We¡¯ll park our own cars on a side street, and if we get chased, we can easily switch cars to throw them off. Leo and Kerry, you¡¯re in charge of getting the cars." "No problem, boss," Leo responded confidently, having worked as a car mechanic. Stealing cars was second nature to him. "Richard, you¡¯re in charge of checking the firearms. Neil, prepare grenades and explosives in case things get out of hand. Henry and Matthew, you¡¯ll gather hoods and backpacks." The team responded in unison, ready for action. The next day, everything proceeded calmly. Each man set about his assigned task. Hardy and Sean Ryder spent the day delivering goods to various bars and later arrived at the Bunny Nightclub in the evening. The club was as lively as ever, with loud music and dancing. Marissa moved gracefully among the patrons, exuding endless charm. When Marissa spotted Hardy, her eyes lit up. After exchanging a few words with the man beside her, she ordered two cocktails at the bar and approached Hardy with a graceful stride. She placed a drink in front of him. "Hardy, I haven¡¯t seen you in days. Have you been busy?" she asked, her tone carrying a hint of resentment. Since the day Hardy had rescued Marissa, their relationship had grown more intimate. But Hardy had become busy and hadn¡¯t seen her since. "I¡¯ve been tied up lately," Hardy replied, taking a sip of his drink. "Are you busy tonight?" Marissa asked, her voice dripping with seduction. "Not tonight," Hardy replied. Half an hour later, Marissa left the nightclub early, and Hardy was already waiting outside in his car. They drove to her house once again. Inside, the room was warm and inviting. Marissa approached, half-covered by her lace suspender dress, holding a glass of wine. ... Their intense exercise began shortly after and continued for a long time before they finally stopped. Lying together afterward, they talked quietly in the dimly lit room. "Marissa, you should avoid nightclubs for a while. Things are heating up between the Austrian gang and others. No one¡¯s targeting you, but I don¡¯t want you caught in the crossfire," Hardy said, gently stroking her hair. "Is it really that serious?" Marissa asked, resting on Hardy¡¯s chest and gazing up at him. "It¡¯s bad, and it¡¯s going to get worse. You might get hurt if there¡¯s a random shootout," Hardy warned. Marissa thought for a moment. "Actually, I¡¯ve saved enough money to take some time off. I¡¯ll listen to you. Maybe I¡¯ll use this time to take acting and singing lessons. After that, I¡¯ll try to land a role in Hollywood," she said. "Do you want to act in movies that badly?" Hardy asked. "That¡¯s my dream. Everyone has a dream, right?" she replied softly. The sunlight streamed through the window, brightening the room. Marissa slept in late, exhausted from the previous night. She stirred under the quilt as Hardy got up, preparing to head back downtown. Everything was ready. The table was covered with weapons: pistols, Chicago typewriters, and even a heavy machine gun. Black hoods and backpacks were neatly arranged, along with grenades and explosives prepared by Neil. Tonight was the night. In both his past life and this one, Hardy knew one truth: Whatever you do, do it with precision. Plan carefully, prepare thoroughly, and execute without hesitation. ... As night fell. "Sean, Ryder, you two handle the driving. The rest of you, get your gear," Hardy ordered. The team moved quickly, grabbing pistols, Chicago typewriters, and headgear. "Buzz~!" Four cars left their base, driving a while before parking two of their own cars at a prearranged location. They then switched to the stolen cars and headed toward the Spanish Casino Club. It was around seven in the evening, and the lights of the club illuminated the road and fountain in front, giving the place a grand, palatial appearance. By eight o¡¯clock, cars started arriving one after another¡ªmostly high-end vehicles. Men in suits and women in glamorous evening dresses stepped out, showing off their perfect figures as they entered the club, talking and laughing. Tonight was the blackjack tournament, drawing an even bigger crowd than usual. Time ticked by as Hardy¡¯s team waited quietly in their cars, parked two kilometers away from the club. No one spoke or smoked, respecting the tension of the moment before action. For them, tonight was indeed a big battle. "Boss, it¡¯s 11 o¡¯clock," Henry said, sitting next to Hardy. "It¡¯s time. Let¡¯s move." The two cars started and sped off toward the club. Chapter 24 Perfect Execution Hardy pulled down his hood, grabbed his Chicago typewriter, and said solemnly, ¡°Action!¡± Two cars screeched to a halt at the entrance of the club. The Spanish gang members assigned to keep order noticed the commotion and moved to check on the situation. ¡°Out of the car!¡± Hardy¡¯s deep voice commanded as he opened his door and stepped out first. The security personnel were stunned when they saw several masked men armed with machine guns exiting the vehicles. Instinctively, they reached for their guns. ¡°Rat-tat-tat!¡± Gunfire erupted, and the guards at the entrance were riddled with bullets, collapsing into pools of blood. Hardy led the charge into the club, his gun ready, followed closely by six of his men. As soon as they entered the hall, more Spanish gang members appeared, alerted by the gunfire. They barely had time to react before Matthew aimed his weapon and opened fire. ¡°Ahhh!¡± Screams filled the air as several gang members were gunned down on the spot. Another man tried to rush in from a side passage, but he was quickly taken out by Hardy¡¯s crew. It was an easy task for Neil and the others¡ªthese low-level thugs posed little challenge. Meanwhile, the guests in the hall, terrified by the violence, dropped to the floor, covering their heads. The women screamed uncontrollably. Ignoring the chaos, Hardy strode deeper into the building. Henry took point and soon led them to the entrance of the underground casino. The door was locked¡ªlikely a desperate attempt by the gangsters inside, who had heard the gunshots, to protect themselves. ¡°Neil, open it,¡± Hardy instructed calmly. Neil approached, removing his backpack. Matthew and the others quickly took cover around the corner¡ªthey knew what was coming. Neil pulled out an explosive, attached it to the door, and lit the fuse before calmly walking back to the corner. ¡°Hissss¡­¡± Boom! The wooden door exploded into splinters. As the smoke and debris settled, the remnants of the door were gone, revealing the underground gambling hall beyond. Two bodies lay mangled on the ground near the entrance, their pistols nearby. They had been hiding behind the door, but they didn¡¯t expect to be blown straight to hell. ¡°Ahhh!¡± Inside, nearly two hundred guests screamed in terror. The earlier gunfire had already shaken them, but the explosion pushed them over the edge. Leo and Kerry rushed into the room, with Richard and the others close behind. The terrified gamblers shrank back into the corners, unsure of what might happen next. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Hardy surveyed the scene, noting that the situation was under control. Neil, Leo, and Kerry, seasoned veterans of such operations, quickly took up advantageous positions, keeping everyone in check. Suddenly, a man in the crowd raised a gun, aiming at Hardy and his crew. But before he could act, Richard¡¯s revolver was already pointed at him. Bang! The bullet struck the man squarely in the forehead, and he crumpled to the floor. Richard was an expert marksman¡ªhe had been watching the crowd and spotted the man¡¯s intentions before he could make a move. The room erupted into chaos again, but no one dared to resist further. Some women were crying quietly, too scared to do anything that might anger the robbers. With the situation now firmly under control, Hardy stepped forward and addressed the room. ¡°Stay down, and we won¡¯t make this difficult for you. But if anyone tries anything, I won¡¯t hesitate to put a few bullets in them.¡± The casino guests, realizing they were not the target, stayed huddled in the corner, not daring to move. Among the crowd, a middle-aged man was holding a beautiful woman in his arms. She trembled in fear, clinging to him like a frightened kitten. He gently stroked her back, whispering, ¡°It¡¯s okay, darling. I¡¯m here.¡± While comforting the woman, the man continued to watch the robbers closely. Hardy walked over to the chip exchange counter. Behind the window, the cashier was trembling uncontrollably. ¡°Open the door,¡± Hardy commanded in a cold tone. ¡°No, please don¡¯t kill me!¡± the woman cried. ¡°As long as you cooperate.¡± Terrified, the woman stood up, unlocked the door, and collapsed onto the floor, quivering in fear. Henry and Matthew rushed inside, quickly locating the box containing the money. They opened it, revealing stacks of cash¡ªfar more than what they had seen during their scouting trip two days earlier. They quickly closed the box and carried it out. ¡°Boss, we got it,¡± Henry reported quietly to Hardy. ¡°Time to go.¡± Hardy signaled for the others to retreat. Moving with precision, the group covered each other as they exited the casino in batches, heading swiftly toward their getaway cars. Sean and Ryder had the vehicles ready. The seven men jumped in, and within moments, the cars sped away from the Spanish Casino Club. The entire operation had taken only five or six minutes. Inside the casino, the guests were too terrified to move for over ten minutes. When it became clear the robbers were gone, someone finally stood up and realized the coast was clear. The room erupted into a frenzy as people rushed to leave. In the parking lot, the middle-aged man helped the trembling woman into his car. He glanced back at the bloodied bodies of the Spanish gang members and reflected on the precision and speed of the robbers. He had brought the woman here for a blackjack contest, not expecting to witness a robbery. From the moment the shooting started to the blowing open of the door and the quick departure, the robbers had executed their plan flawlessly in just a few minutes. The gang members hadn¡¯t stood a chance. These weren¡¯t ordinary criminals, the man thought to himself as he drove the woman back to Beverly Hills. They were military¡ªhighly trained, disciplined. Back at his mansion, after the woman went to shower, the man picked up the phone and made a call. ¡°Fred, the Spanish Casino at McKinsey Club was hit tonight. I was there. Look into it.¡± Fred, startled, replied, ¡°Mr. Siegel, are you alright?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± ¡°Understood. I¡¯ll investigate and get back to you with the details.¡± Meanwhile, Hardy and his crew made a clean getaway. They moved so quickly that by the time anyone thought to report the robbery, the group had already driven the stolen cars to a secluded spot, switched to their own vehicles, and returned to their safe house. Inside the factory, the atmosphere was electric with excitement. They opened the suitcases to reveal stacks of cash. ¡°Boss, we did it! There¡¯s got to be at least two hundred grand here,¡± Henry said with a grin. Matthew grabbed a few wads of cash and held them to his nose, inhaling deeply. ¡°We¡¯re rich! Hahaha!¡± Everyone was in high spirits, but Hardy remained calm. He¡¯d seen far larger sums in his previous life, and two hundred grand didn¡¯t impress him. ¡°Don¡¯t get ahead of yourselves,¡± Hardy said, patting Matthew on the shoulder. ¡°Count it carefully. Once we know exactly how much we have, we¡¯ll talk about how to split it.¡± ¡°Got it, boss!¡± the men replied, immediately setting to work counting the money. Chapter 25 Dividing Money And Setting Rules 215 860 $ When this number was counted, Henry, Matthew, and others all jumped up with excitement. With current prices in the United States, a bottle of beer only costs 10 cents. A Ford sedan costs no more than one thousand, An ordinary house in downtown Los Angeles goes for seven or eight thousand. The celebrity mansions in Beverly Hills cost only fifty to sixty thousand dollars. 215,860 $ It''s definitely a huge sum of money. Hardy touched the pile of banknotes placed together and put the 5,860$ in change next to him. ??"Those don''t count. Let''s calculate it as 210,000$." Previously, Bill was seriously injured by Cook for five thousand dollars. For this reason, Hardy took action to kill Cook, but now more than 5,000 US dollars have become small change. "Gang rules are that your business will be split into 30/70, and the gang''s 30% is 63,000$. Sean, please take out this money first." Sean quickly and obediently counted out $63,000 from the pile of money and put it next to him. "There are still 152,000 $ left. Let''s all figure out how the money should be divided." After Hardy finished speaking, he glanced at everyone. Everyone of them was excited, there are nine of them, and each of them can get at least more than 10,000 $ which is almost the salary of an ordinary person for five or six years. "Boss, you can divide it however you want." Henry stood up and said,. "Yes, we listen to the boss." "We have no objection." Everyone expressed their opinions, and let Hardy decide. Hardy smiled and said, "It''s very simple; split equally. What do you think?" Matthew rubbed his hands excitedly after hearing this. Kerry couldn''t help but swallow, and the others were also very excited. At this moment, Sean, who was sitting next to him, spoke. "I don''t think it''s appropriate." Although Sean''s voice was not loud, it immediately attracted everyone''s attention. Some people frowned slightly, thinking that an equal share was not appropriate. What did Sean want to do? "What''s inappropriate? Do you want more?" Matthew said it with a crooked eye. Sean glanced at everyone and said, "It''s not that I want more, but this distribution method is against gang rules." "What rules?" Leo asked. Sean looked at Hardy and said to the others, "Every organization has a leader. The leader of our team is Boss Hardy, right?" "Of course." "Hardy is our boss. What do you want to say? Sean?" someone asked. "The whole thing was planned by the boss, and he also started to implement it. Later, matters also need to be solved by the boss. We are just following orders. Do you think it is reasonable to get the same share as the boss?!" Sean said. Sean''s words left everyone stunned. After they thought about it for a while, It seemed that this was indeed the case. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Even in the army, it is the duty of soldiers to charge into battle. It would be nice to be given a few cans and two packs of cigarettes afterwards. The biggest benefit is naturally given to the officers. Sean spoke again. "According to gang rules, the boss has the right to take 50% or more; 70% to 80% is normal; and the rest will be divided among the younger brothers." Others understood. thinking about it, it really should be divided like this. It is indeed too easy to get such a large share of the money just by doing a single robbery once. Richard had been standing in the corner, smoking. When Sean finished speaking, he took the cigarette out of his mouth and said, "I agree with Sean; Hardy should really get the big share." Others nodded after hearing this. "I also agree with the boss taking the big share." "I definitely have no objection." "I 100% support the boss taking the big head." Everyone in the room supported Hardy in taking the big share. According to the gang rules, except Sean and Ryder, the others are all Hardy''s comrades in arms, and they were all recruited by him personally. Everyone looked at Hardy. Hardy was silent for a few seconds, with many thoughts running through his mind. This distribution is not only about the money at hand but also about the determination of future interests. To put it bluntly, it is to establish rules. If it were just this amount of money, Hardy could divide it equally, but that would have a great impact on future work. Moreover, he has a plan for the future in mind. There are many places where money is needed, so it is necessary to accumulate some wealth. "Since it''s a gang rule, let''s split it 50/50. In the future, any action we participate in together will be based on this ratio," Hardy said. This sentence set the tone for what was to come. Fifty-five of 150,000 $ Hardy received $76,000, Sean, Henry, and the eight of them shared the remaining 76,000 $ equally, and each of them could get 9,500 $. 9,500 $ It''s definitely a huge sum of money in this day and age. The money was divided, and everyone held a thick wad of banknotes in their hands, and everyone was smiling. Hardy thought of something else and warned these guys: "I''m not worried about Nick, his money will be used to treat his wife''s illness, I''m worried about you Richard, Henry, Matthew. You guys got such a big sum of money, if you go out and spend it wildly, it will easily attract the attention of interested people." Matthew Henry were startled, the two of them were already planning a carnival in their minds. Hardy lowered his face and said in a serious voice, "No one can wander during this period. Just stay here, just like before. Do you understand?" "We understand!" Everyone responded in unison. After Hardy finished speaking, his expression softened, and he said with a smile, "Of course, if you want to find a few girls to let go, I won''t stop you." "Hehehehehe~!" Several guys laughed. Collecting his own share of $76,000 and putting it in a separate box. then Turning over to the gang''s share of 63,000 and putting it in another box. ... Spanish gang boss Dani received the news.That the club was robbed. So he rushed over with his gang but What he saw were only corpses on the ground, the casino was in a mess, and all the cash had been robbed. Dani immediately became furious. "Whoever robbed my casino, I will find them, tie them with bombs, and blow them up!" Daniel gritted his teeth and roared angrily. More than a dozen of his men were killed, including the casino director. This is not the point. What made him feel distressed was that all the money in the casino had been robbed. For tonight''s blackjack contest, he specially allocated more than 100,000 $. Just half an hour before he was robbed, he received a call, and his advisor told him that the cash had exceeded US$200,000. Dani''s heart was bleeding, at this moment, several police cars parked outside the club. It had been half an hour before the police received the call and rushed over. They acted really quickly. The police entered cautiously, with their guns drawn. When they came to the underground casino and saw Dani and his group, they immediately raised their guns and told them to squat down. Dani was so angry he almost went mad. "I am Dani, this is my property, I was robbed, can''t you see it?" Dani said angrily to the police. The next day, Hardy called Fred the boss of the Austrian gang. As soon as the call was connected, Fred said, "Hardy, I was just looking for you to ask you something." "What''s the matter, boss?" Hardy asked. . "The Spanish casino was robbed last night. A dozen of the Spanish gang''s men were killed, and a lot of money was taken away. I was inquiring about this news, and many people I asked said they didn''t know anything about it. Do you have any information''s about this matter??" Fred asked. Hardy paused slightly. He didn''t expect that Fred was asking about this matter; what a coincidence. "Boss, I was just going to tell you about this." "Oh, do you know something?" Fred raised his voice. "I did it," Hardy said. Fred was shocked. "You did it?!" "Yes, I did it. I called the boss just because I wanted to talk to you about it and hand over my gang share," Hardy said. "Shared? How much?" "30/70 divided, for a total of 63 000 $." Hardy said. Fred made a simple calculation and knew that Hardy and the others had robbed more than 200,000 US dollars, which was a lot of money. "Okay, I''ll wait for you at home." Fred hung up the phone. Chapter 26 Siegel Hardy took the money and was about to go out. Henry and Matthew were watching TV in the living room downstairs. The cartoon Tom and Jerry was playing on the TV, and these two guys watched it with gusto. It is now 1945, the penetration rate of television is not high yet. It is only about 67% in the United States, and there are only a dozen TV stations. The TV is an 11-2-inch black-and-white TV, but it is very attractive to people who have rarely been exposed to TV programs. It would not be until the 1950s that television would become a common consumer product. "Boss, you want to go out, do you need me to help you drive?" Henry stood up immediately after seeing Hardy getting down. "No need." Hardy was about to go out when he suddenly remembered something. "Henry, is the guy you kidnapped still in the cellar?" Hardy asked. "Yes, he had been detained for three days." Henry said. "Find a reason to let him go, but don''t let him know anything about us, and don''t associate it with the robbery of the club." Hardy ordered. "Also, tell Nick and the others to go out and inquire about the Spanish gang''s reaction and see if there is any movement from them." "Okay, boss!" Hardy drove away. Henry scratched his head and looked at Matthew. "Matthew, what do you think we should do with that guy?" "The easiest way is to kill him. It will definitely not be that much trouble." "The boss asked us to find a reason to let him go, not to kill him." Henry said. At this time, the TV program had changed from Tom and Jerry to a TV series. The plot was about a woman who was caught by her boss, who took nude photos and threatened her to become his lover. Henry''s eyes lit up. "Matthew, I have an idea." Kevin Madion has been locked in the cellar for three days. During these three days, he was in fear at every moment. The robbers would probably contact his families to ask for ransom, right? How much? He also heard that many people who paid ransom would also be ripped off. Will the robber kill himself? These questions lingered in his mind all the time, which also made him worried all the time. "Bang~!" The iron door of the cellar opened. Two men wearing masks walked in, one of them had a gun in his hand, and Kevin shuddered, maybe they were going to kill him today. "Please don''t kill me. I''m willing to agree to all the conditions, and I''ll take the money. Please don''t kill me." Kevin begged. "Stop talking nonsense; do everything according to our requirements now." Henry said it coldly. "Okay, I will be obedient." "Take off your clothes, all naked!" Hmm~! The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Kevin was stunned. What are ..... What are they going to do? But now he had no choice. Kevin quickly took off his clothes, revealing his not so muscular body. Matthew held up his camera. "Don''t cover it, let go of your hand." "Put a pose; yes, be coquettish." "Put a smile on your face, you know, don''t have such a hard expression." Kevin felt that being photographed naked in this situation, it''s strange that his expression couldn''t get any better how was he suppose to smile. Finally, after all the photos were taken, Matthew finished the work successfully. Henry ordered Kevin to put on his clothes, tie his hands, put on a hood, and pull him out. After driving around in Kevin''s Lincoln for half an hour before stopping, Henry untied the rope from Kevin''s hand and said sternly, "We are letting you go now, you can prepare $5,000 when you go home, we may contact you any time." "Remember, if you dare to call the police, we have countless ways to deal with you, and your photos will appear in the mailboxes of major newspapers." "I will never call the police." "You can''t remove the hood until you count to 100. Start counting now." Matthew said. "Okay, 1, 2, 3, 4" Henry and Matthew looked at each other and smiled, and they got out of the car. Kevin counted to 100 in the car, stopped and waited for a while, and then asked quietly, "Mr. Robber, can I open my hood?" No reply, Kevin carefully opened a small opening. There was no one else in the car. "Woooooo~!" Kevin cried. Finally free and alive, after crying for a while, he shakily got into the driver''s seat and drove back to his home, he opened the door and found his wife at home. The woman saw Kevin and asked with concern, "What have you been doing these days? Why didn''t you say anything?" "If you didn''t show up today, I was going to call the police." Seeing how concerned his wife was about him, Kevin stepped forward and hugged her. "Honey, I never want to be separated from you again." ... After Fred learned that Hardy was responsible for the robbery, he hung up the phone and immediately called his Boss Siegel. Ring, ring, ring! The call was connected. "Mr. Siegel, it''s me, Fred. The incident at the Spanish Casino has been investigated clearly. It was Jon Hardy, a small boss in our gang." "Jon Hardy, tell me about his situation." Siegel Erdao. "Jon Hardy used to be a Marine. He was discharged after being injured. He was recommended by one of our small bosses, Bill. As for the people under him, they are all veteran comrades he recruited." Fred said. "He just called me, and was about to hand over the gang share, and is coming to me now." "How much is the share?" Siegel asked. "63 000$ In order to encourage the people below to make money, I increased their share. He robbed a total of 210,000, and the gang got a share of 63,000$." Fred explained. "63,000$?" Siegel''s heart moved when he heard this number. During this time, he was short of money. Hardy''s money has not been recorded in the gang account yet, so he could just take it. Some time ago, the Mafia Committee met and asked Los Angeles gangs to increase the revenue. It happened that a friend, William Wixon, who was also a gangster, proposed to build a luxury casino in Las Vegas. After doing some research, Siegel was very interested in this project. The two were going to raise funds to build it. Their plan was very huge. Las Vegas was still just a desert and didn''t hold much attraction to gamblers yet. Siegel envisioned a massive casino plan, complete with palace style casinos, luxury hotels, nightclubs, bar lounges, restaurants, cafes, indoor shops, health clubs, and more. There will also be private villas, swimming pools, and even a lake outside, as well as an arena, shooting range, and horse ranch. In short, the goal is to build this casino into a leisure destination integrating gambling and entertainment. Their plan is to receive about 3,000 people at a time, so the initial investment reached 6 million. $6 million in 1945 was an absolute fortune, equivalent to $60 million in 2020. Although Siegel is the boss of the Los Angeles Austrian Gang, the Austrian Gang exists in the form of a company and is a branch of the Mafia. A large part of the money earned needs to be handed over. Siegel is trying to secretly embezzle part of the company''s funds. If the headquarters knew about it, it would be a big trouble for Siegel. William Wixon could only gather one million, With the remaining funds, Siegel plans to lobby other gang bosses to raise $4 million to complete his huge plan. "Fred, bring that little guy named Hardy to my place, and remember to bring the money." Siegel said. Fred realized something. "Okay boss." Driving Bill''s old Ford, Hardy thought it was time to change to a better car. Guns are men''s favorites, But many times, Cars have to be queued in front, a beloved car is definitely closer than a wife. Not long after, he arrived at the door of Fred Villa, this is a high end community surrounded by independent villas, each covering an area of several acres. The car stopped at the door, and Hardy got out with the box. Before reaching the door, the door opened automatically. Fred stood at the door and said to Hardy, "Hardy, come with me to meet someone." "Meeting who?" Hardy was slightly surprised. You are more anxious to meet someone than to collect money. Who is that person? Fred looked at Hardy and said, "My boss, the real controller of the underground world in Los Angeles!" Chapter 27 Swapping Goods "Your boss?" Hardy asked in surprise. "Yes, the real boss of the Austrian gang, the controller of the Los Angeles underworld, one of the founders of the Mafia, Mr. Benjamin Siegel, is my boss." When Fred mentioned Siegel''s name, there was a hint of emotion in his tone. . When the Mafia came to Los Angeles to start their business, Fred was Siegel''s right hand men. ??After the Austrian Gang established a foothold in Los Angeles, Siegel retired behind the scenes, and Fred became the apparent boss of the Austrian Gang. "Benjamin Siegel". Hearing this name, Hardy suddenly remembered a movie he had watched before called "The Great Love.". This movie is also a relatively famous gangster movie, telling the story of Benjamin Siegel''s experience in investing and building Las Vegas. Siegel was one of the Mafia bosses and the head of the Mafia Killer Group. In the 1940s, the organization sent him to Los Angeles to expand its territory. Siegel used thunderous means to clean up other gangs in Los Angeles and establish his gang. The Austrian gang became the largest force in Los Angeles in a short period of time. However, after establishing the gang, he did not stand at the front. Instead, he pushed Fred to manage the gang. He bought a film company and became a Hollywood celebrity, working with many top film company bosses, film producers, directors, and stars who became his friends. Siegel was a romantic guy who had relationships with many actresses, female stars, and socialites. Later, he met Virginia Hill, a beautiful woman and an unknown little actor in Hollywood. Siegel fell madly in love with her. When building the Las Vegas casino, he even appointed Virginia Hill to manage the finances. In the end, the casino failed, Siegel was killed, and Virginia Hill also committed suicide. This is also the reason why the movie is named "The Great Love". While Hardy was thinking, the car arrived in front of a luxurious manor in Beverly Hills. The door opened, and It drove into the garden and finally stopped in front of a three stor villa. The butler led Fred and Hardy to a luxurious office, where they met Benjamin Siegel. "Fred, come sit here." Benjamin said with a smile and then looked at Hardy, "Is this the Hardy you mentioned on the phone?" "Yes, Mr. Siegel, this is Hardy." "Siegel Sir!" Hardy said it respectfully. Siegel smiled and nodded. "He is a very strong young man. Come and sit with us." He picked up the whiskey on the table and poured a glass for each of them. Siegel has a handsome appearance, a pair of blue eyes, and looks gentle, but Hardy knows that Siegel is a truly murderous guy, even a somewhat crazy guy who once planned to assassinate Mussolini. Siegel was very interested in Hardy. He saw Hardy''s actions on the day of the robbery. He admired the little guy''s ability to do things. Crisp and neat, with strong field control ability and high quality subordinates, he definitely has a talent for big things. "You know, I was at the Spanish casino yesterday." Siegel said. Hardy was slightly stunned, "I''m sorry for disturbing your interest, Mr. Siegel," Hardy said. Siegel laughed. "I don''t care, but Virginia was shocked. I calmed her down for half the night after I came back." Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! "I saw all your actions yesterday. You acted quickly, accurately, and efficiently. Your subordinates are of high quality, not killing innocent people indiscriminately but shocking the whole crowd. It can be said to be the most perfect robbery operation I have ever seen. Who are your men?" "They are all my comrades from the marine corp." "After the conflict with other gangs, it was getting more and more dangerous, and I felt that I was short of manpower, so I contacted my comrades, who are all brothers in the Marine Corps," Hardy said. Siegel understood after experiencing the brutal world war, those who survived were all elites, and this Hardy is also very smart, he knows how to take the initiative to increase his strength just after the conflict with other gangs broke out, he smelled the opportunity to make money. "How much money was robbed in total?" Siegel asked again. "$210,000," Hardy said. "Oh, it''s indeed a lot." Fred looked at Siegel and said, "Boss, the gang''s share should be 63,000. This money has not been recorded yet, and no one else knows about it. How do you think it should be handled?" When he got the phone call asking him to bring Hardy over with the money, Fred already had a guess in his mind, so he asked. "Leave it with me. I have a big funding gap right now. Don''t let other people know about this money." Siegel said it straightforwardly. "Okay, boss," Fred said. "By the way, how''s the investigation into the red wine going?" Siegel asked. Fred paused slightly. "I don''t have a clue yet." Siegel''s face darkened. "I found a friend to smooth things over with the customs. The best result is to pay back the taxes and make the wine legal. The tax for imported goods is 200,000 $, and that batch of goods can at most be sold for 250,000 $. Do you think we want this batch of goods or not?" Siegel said it with some displeasure. Fred lowered his head. Speaking of which, it was his responsibility, as for whether he still wanted this batch of goods, he hesitated for a while. The tax is so high, and gangs'' takeout prices are generally cheaper than regular import channels. Even if the goods are brought back, with other expenses on transport and protection they won''t make much money. Counting the Mafia 15% share, the may end up losing money instead. Fred didn''t want to make this losing transaction. Siegel was a little disappointed with Fred''s hesitation. Fred was an obedient guy, which was why he was originally chosen to be the official person in charge of Los Angeles. However, Fred''s pioneering ability and decisiveness were obviously lacking. When he handed over Los Angeles to him, the Austrian gang was of this size, and it was still the same in the past few years, without any major development. Turning to look at Hardy "Hardy, if you encountered such a thing, how would you solve it?" Siegel looked at Hardy and asked. Hardy thought for a moment "I will not choose to pay taxes. If my goods got seized by the customs, I can regard the business as a failure. If I pay taxes and take back the goods, I will not only make no money but also waste a lot of time. It is not worth the gain. It is better to smuggle in a new batch." " But there is another way. If there is a chance, maybe we can get those goods out. "Oh, how to get them out?" Siegel became interested. Fred also looked at Hardy. "The customs warehouse is not too strict. We can steal that batch of wine. A $250,000 business is definitely worth it." Siegel shook his head "Many people know that the goods are from the Austrian gang. If they get robbed, everyone will guess that we did it, And I have already found someone before. it will ruin our relationship with the customs" Siegel rejected Hardy''s method. Hardy thought for a while and continued: "There is a safer way, you can use the exchange strategy, get a batch of empty wine bottles, fill them with worthless and inferior red wine, pack them in boxes, and then bribe the customs people to swap the batches." "Customs procedures only seized a batch of smuggled red wine, but they didn''t say whether it was real or fake. Even if they were found out, they would have no responsibility." Siegel''s eyes lit up. He felt that Hardy''s proposal was indeed a very good idea, The seized red wines were all top notch French red wines, and the price of each bottle was tens or even hundreds of dollars. The price of inferior red wines was even only tens of cents.; the value comparison is negligible. As for the matter of bribing customs personnel to operate, Siegel is also confident that he can just give the director of customs a sum of money. Siegel looked at Hardy with a smile. "Your idea is very good, Fred. You should have the documents for that batch of goods in your hands. Prepare the fake wine according to the documents. I will contact the people at Los Angeles Customs. This matter should be resolved. If it is done well, we can avoid most of this time business losses." After speaking, Siegel looked at Hardy, his eyes becoming more appreciative. This young man is not only strong in combat but also very flexible in mind. He is a rare talent. "Hardy, are you interested in movies?" Siegel suddenly asked. Hardy didn''t expect that Siegel''s topic would change so much, and he almost didn''t react. "Movie? I like it very much." Siegel smiled. "There will be a party at my manor tomorrow night. There will be many movie company bosses, agents, celebrities, and some high class people. You can come over and have fun." "By the way, if you have a female companion, you can bring it with you." Hardi thought, Is this a reward for himself? Chapter 28 Shopping with Marissa Coming out of Siegel''s house, Fred patted Hardy on the shoulder and said, "I can see that Mr. Siegel likes you very much, well done Hardy." "Yes, boss." Hardy said. As he drove back in the Ford, he thought about the party he would attend tomorrow and that he needed a suitable suit. It''s better to have a good new car. Siegel said he could bring a female companion, but he didn''t have any. Hardy thought that maybe Marissa would be interested. Thinking of Marissa, Hardy turned the steering wheel and headed towards Marissa''s house. When he came downstairs, he found that the door was locked. Marissa should be studying acting at this time. He knew where Marissa had her classes and drove there. After Marissa finished her class, she went downstairs with two beautiful girls and chatted about the teacher''s lecture. As soon as she went out, she saw a tall and handsome figure standing on the street. "Jon, why are you here?" Marissa happily ran to the man''s side. "I''m going to a party and need a suitable suit. You know men are not very good at choosing clothes. Do you have time to be my adviser?" Hardy looked at the woman and asked. "I have time, I don''t have classes in the afternoon, so I can accompany you." Marissa said it with a smile. Turning around and waving to the two female companions, "Cheryl, Evie, I won''t have lunch with you." The two women smiled and waved goodbye. When Marissa got in the car and left, Cheryl shook her head and said, "This man is good looking, but judging from his clothes and the car he drives, he doesn''t seem to have much money. Why would Marissa be with him?" "Maybe she was carried away by the so called love, hahaha." Evie smiled. Unbeknownst to Hardy, he was despised by the two women. "What kinda of suit are you planing to buy?" Marissa asked. "High end, tomorrow night is a relatively high end party." "High end suits are not cheap." "It doesn''t matter; let''s take a look first." Marissa looked at Hardy and thought that if the man couldn''t afford it, she would sponsor part of it. Arriving at the most prosperous commercial district in Los Angeles, with high end shopping malls and specialty stores on both sides, the two walked into the ''Bookers Brothers'' store. Hardy had heard of this brand. It is said to have been founded in 1818 and is an American men''s luxury brand. More than forty U.S. presidents have worn their suits. Marissa helped pick out a suit, and it fit Hardy perfectly. He has a good figure and a natural ability to dress. "Great Jon." Marissa now calls Hardy affectionately Jon. Hardy was also very satisfied with the suit. "This is it, Marissa. Help me pick out a coat, two shirts, two ties, a belt, and a pair of leather shoes." He planned to buy the whole suit directly. After putting on all the equipment, Hardy looked extremely energetic. He had a good figure and perfectly showed off his handsomeness in the suit. After settling the bill and leaving, the total amount was more than seven hundred dollars. Hardy settled the bill without any pressure. If Marissa''s two female companions saw him now, they would definitely not regard him as a poor boy with no money. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. "Come with me to buy a car." Hardy said. "You want to buy a car?" Marissa was slightly surprised. The cheapest car costs more than a thousand dollars, and the better ones cost two, three, or even four or five thousand. Those luxury cars even cost tens of thousands of dollars. The two came to the car dealership. Instead of looking at cheap Fords, Hardy wandered around the luxury car area and finally spotted a beautiful sedan. Packard, a well known luxury car in the United States, has a logo of a swan with spread wings. Unfortunately, in 1958, Packard Motor Company made many consecutive policy mistakes, leading to the company''s bankruptcy, and the Packard brand disappeared from people''s sight forever. It has become a swan song in people''s memories. The car Hardy is interested in has dark blue paint and a white roof. It is very recognizable, and it looks elegant and generous overall. "How much does this car cost?" Hardy asked the salesman. "$7,850." The salesman said it with a smile. The car is beautiful, and so is the price. "Okay, I want this car." The salesperson was overjoyed and led Hardy to pay the bill. Marissa was surprised at how Hardy became so rich all of a sudden, but she was relieved when she thought of his identity. Perhaps no one in this world gets rich faster than gangsters. Sometimes you can make a lot of money just by completing a deal. "My Ford car; take it to No. XX Street for me and park it on the side of the road." Hardy ordered. "Don''t worry, sir, I''ll send someone to deliver it to you right away." The salesman smiled and took the keys to the Ford. Hardy drove Marissa away in a luxury car. Sitting in the car, Marissa looked at the car and then at the man. "Hardy, it seems you attach great importance to the party tomorrow night." "Well, there is a party tomorrow night. Many Hollywood stars will attend, so I can''t embarrass the host who invited me" Hardy said. "Hollywood star''s party?" Marissa said it with envy. "Hardy, after you finish the party, come back and tell me who you saw, okay?" Hardy smiled and looked at Marissa. "I can bring a female companion; are you interested?" Marissa covered her mouth in surprise. "Hardy, is it true that you are going to take me with you?!" "Are you willing?" "Yes, yes, I am very willing." Marissa nodded excitedly. But then she became nervous again. "I need to prepare well for such a high end party. I don''t know if I have suitable clothes." Hardy looked at Marissa, who was a little flustered, and said with a smile, "You help me choose clothes; as a thank you, I''ll give you an evening dress." "Really, wow~ You''re so nice, Hardy." Marissa hugged Hardy and kissed him hard. Chanel store. Marissa chose an evening dress with a black lace braided upper body and a small plaid long skirt on the lower body, making her look dignified yet sexy, elegant yet with a hint of charm. This skirt alone costs over six hundred dollars. In this era, more than six hundred US dollars is equivalent to three months'' salary for an ordinary person. No wonder many not so famous new stars, or even has been stars, choose to rent clothes when attending events. It turns out they are really expensive. It was already evening after the two finished shopping. Hardy sent Marissa home. The woman was lying on the car window, looking at Hardy, with a confused look in her eyes. ??"Would you like to come up and do it?" "What to do?" "Help me see if the evening dress fits." "I''m afraid I might tear it into pieces if I go up to help." "That''s not okay. I can''t bear to let you tear off such beautiful clothes." Marissa kissed Hardy on the face and ran upstairs happily, holding the clothes box. "I''ll pick you up tomorrow evening," Hardy shouted. "Okay~!" He drove a luxury car to Bill''s house and parked it in the garage. Bill''s old Ford had been delivered and it was parked on the roadside at the door. Hardy opened the mailbox at the door and took the ford car keys from inside. ... Driving to the downtown gathering place, Henry, Neil, and several other guys were chatting in the lobby. They stood up immediately when Hardy came in. "The gang''s affairs have been settled, and everything is going well," Hardy said. Everyone had a relaxed expression on their faces. If there was no problem with the gang, it meant that their share would be collected safely. "Is there any movement from the Spanish gang today?" Hardy asked. When they left in the morning, Hardy ordered them to go out and inquire about the situation. "A few of us went out to investigate separately. We just came back and had a chat. Basically, the situation is as we expected. Dani from the Spanish gang was very angry and told the outside world that we would find the people who robbed his casino at all costs." Henry said. Harry smiled and said, "That means they don''t know who did it." "The police have opened a case and announced that they will investigate with all their strength, but there is not much movement internally." Neil said. "The police are the least to worry about," Hardy said. After the news was almost finished, Hardy ordered everyone: "Everyone should pay more attention to what you do these days and don''t leak any information to the outside world." "Starting tomorrow, Sean, Ryder, Richard, and Neil, you continue doing normal business and delivering goods to the bar." "Henry, Matthew, Leo, and Kerry, the four of you go out and continue to investigate the Spanish gang to see if there are any valuable clues." "Boss, you still want to rob the Spanish gang?" Matthew asked excitedly. "Why not." Hardy smiled. Chapter 29 Luxurious Banquet "I have something to do tomorrow, so I won''t come over here. You guys continue to do your work." After Hardy finished speaking, he was about to leave. As soon as he reached the door, Nick followed him out. "Boss, let me tell you something." Nick said. "What''s the matter?" Nick took out a delicate small box from his pocket with a Rolex label engraved on it. "Boss, in order to treat my wife, you used your own watch, today I went out and passed by the Rolex watch store, I bought a new watch that just came out." Hardy was a little surprised when he opened the box and found a delicate gold watch inside. It was slightly different from the one Hardy had stolen from Cook, but it was more beautiful. "I originally wanted to buy one that was exactly the same as yours, but the store clerk said it was out of stock. It was a newly launched second-generation gold watch, so I bought this one," Neil explained. Hardy thought for a while, raised his head, and said to Neil, "Thank you, Neil. I will accept this watch. By the way, how is your wife''s illness?" Neil laughed. "She has improved a lot. The doctor gave her penicillin and other medicines. Now she rarely coughs at night and can basically live a normal life. Dr. Murphy said that she only needs one more month of treatment, and then she can be treated conservatively." "That''s great." The next day. Hardy goes to the hospital to see Bill. This guy recovered very well and was able to get out of bed. When he saw Hardy coming over, he asked in a low voice, "I read the newspaper. The Spanish casino was robbed. It is said that the loss exceeded 200,000 US dollars. Do you know who did it, Jon?" "We did it." Bill opened his mouth wide, and then a look of annoyance appeared on his face. "If I was in good health, I could have made a lot of money by following you. It''s such a pity." "Then get better soon. Don''t always focus on women. In the past two months in the hospital, you became Fat again." Hardy said. "Hehehe~!" Bill could only giggle. To be honest, In the past two months, except for the beginning, the rest of his life has been extremely nourishing. After leaving Bill''s ward, Hardy visited Neil''s wife again and sent a bouquet of flowers. Jenny couldn''t help but thank Hardy. After all, it was Hardy who brought them to Los Angeles. If it weren''t for Hardy, she would still be suffering and might even be dead. It''s afternoon. Hardy put on the newly bought clothes, shirt, tie, belt, leather shoes, and finally a coat. He stood in front of the mirror and looked handsome and tall. In the evening, He drove his new car to the downstairs of Marissa''s house. "Didi~!" Hardy got out of the car, honked the horn twice, and looked up at the second floor window. Not long after, a beautiful woman''s face appeared through the window. "Jon, I''ll be down right away." The woman went downstairs in a dress and high heels. As soon as she came out, Hardy''s eyes lit up. "Marissa, you are so beautiful today." Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. The woman smiled sweetly at Hardy and said, "I have been preparing since the morning." The two got in the car and drove to Siegel''s Beverly Manor. Marissa kept looking at herself on the way then looked at Hardy, she said "Jon, I''m a little nervous." Hardy reached out and stroked the woman''s hair. "There''s no need to be nervous; I believe you will be the most beautiful woman in the party." The lights came on. Many guests came to Siegel Manor. There were countless luxury cars parked in the courtyard, men and women were dressed in gorgeous clothes. Marissa got out of the car and tugged on her skirt nervously. The confidence that Hardy had inspired on the road was gone again. She held the man''s arm tightly. Hardy patted the woman''s hand and gave her a reassuring smile. The manor is extremely luxurious, with a marble carved pool in the middle, and the lake is as blue as a sapphire. "Jon, it''s so beautiful here." Marissa praised. Walking into the lobby of the villa, it was magnificently decorated and had obviously been re decorated in the past two days for the party. There were many people in the hall. People gathered together in twos and threes, sitting or standing, holding wine glasses, and chatting. Some people danced to the music. Men and women were all filled with relaxed smiles. This gorgeous scene reminded Hardy of a movie he once watched. "The Great Gatsby". In that movie, the male protagonist, played by Leonardo DiCaprio, is a bootlegger. After he gets rich, he spends a lot of money to get into upper class society. He often holds high end parties in his manor and invites some celebrities to have a carnival. The banquet held by Siegel was only slightly higher than the banquet hosted by DiCaprio. In the corner of the hall, Hardy finally saw Siegel. Siegel also saw Hardy and the others, said something to the friends around him, and walked over with a smile. "Hardy, welcome to my party." "This is your female companion; don''t know what to call her?" He looked at Marissa and asked with a smile. "Marissa," Hardy said. Marissa bowed slightly to Siegel. "Miss Marissa is so beautiful." Siegel praised, turned to Hardy, and said, "Take your female companions and have fun. There are many Hollywood stars here. You can chat with them and make friends." "Hardy, I''ll see you later, and let''s have a few words alone." Hardy''s heart moved. He had long felt that it would not be just a reward from Siegel to let him attend the party there must be other plans behind it. "Okay, Mr. Siegel." He led Marissa to the dining table, picked up a glass of wine, and handed it to Marissa. He also took a glass. Marissa suddenly tugged on him. Putting her red lips close to Hardy''s ear, Marissa lowered her voice and said, "Oh my God, Jon, guess who I saw?" Though her voice was kept as low as possible, excitement could still be heard in the woman''s voice. "Who?" "Clark Gable, Rhett Butler from Gone with the Wind, he is my idol." Marissa squeezed Hardy''s hand so excitedly that she couldn''t help but tremble. Following Marissa''s eyes, Hardy found a handsome middle aged man with a signature mustache who was surrounded by a group of women. Clark Gable, who is now in his forties, is mature, elegant, and confident. No wonder he can become an idol for thousands of women. After a while, Marissa became excited again. "Jon, I saw Gloria Garson. She starred in the movie "The Brave Home" the year before and won the best actress award. She is so beautiful and graceful." Marissa exclaimed. "Wow~ Jon, it''s Cary Grant. He''s actually here too. He''s been nominated for an Oscar before." "Jon, look at the lady standing by the stairs, chatting with someone. That''s Olivia Deha. Weiland, who played Melanie in Gone with the Wind, was nominated for Best Supporting Actress at the 12th Academy Awards. " Everywhere she looked, Marissa saw many big stars, making her a girl who was determined to pursue her Hollywood dream so excited that she could only try her best to suppress Herself from losing her composure. In addition to those big stars, there are countless small stars here. The men are handsome, and the women are beautiful. Those who can come here are more or less famous. In Hollywood, the most indispensable things are handsome men and beautiful women. Countless people come here every year to pursue their dreams, but only a very small part of them succeed. In addition to strength, a large part of it also depends on luck. Sometimes people''s luck matter more than their effort. After playing in the hall for a while and dancing a few times, a young man wearing a waiter''s uniform came to Hardy and said, "Mr. Hardy, Mr. Siegel invites you to the balcony on the second floor." Hardy nodded. "Marissa, you play by yourself for a while, and I''ll go see Mr. Siegel." Hardy said. "Well, you don''t have to worry about me, you go to work." Hardy came to the balcony on the second floor. Siegel stood by the marble pillars of the balcony and looked outside. From this position, he had a panoramic view of the entire manor. Siegel looked at Hardy and tossed him a cigar. "Thank you, Mr. Siegel." Hardy took it and lit it for himself. Siegel puffed out his cigar, pointed at the manor, and asked, "What do you think of this place?" "It''s very luxurious." "Then do you like this kind of life? Tell the truth." Hardy paused. "I like it." "Hahahaha~!"Siegel laughed. "No one dislikes this kind of life, but this kind of life requires money and strength. Hardy, have you ever thought about being a big boss?" Siegel looked into Hardy''s eyes and asked. Hardy looked into the distance and gave his answer with certainty. "Yes!" "Haha, okay, I like people with courage and ideals." Hardy looked at Siegel and said, "Mr. Siegel, I don''t know what you mean by asking me these words." "Haha, very simple. I want to find a suitable person to do things for me, and I think you are very good for the job" Siegel said. Chapter 30 Benjamin Siegel Assistant "Mr. Siegel, what do you need me to do?" Hardy asked. Siegel smiled. "Specially help me make money. The income from your future work will not go through the accounts of the Austrian Gang. We will still divide it by 30¨C70. I will take 30%, and 70% will go to your team." Strictly speaking, the Austrian Gang does not belong to Siegel, but it is a branch of the Italian Mafia. Most of the money earned by the Austrian gang is handed over to the Mafia organization, and Siegel can only receive part of it. If the money earned by Hardy is directly handed over to Siegel, just like the share of the last time he robbed the Spanish casino, Siegel will have full rights to handle the money, or it will go directly into his personal pocket. It''s like poaching the mafia''s corner, but that didn''t really make any difference to Hardy. "Second, be my film company assistant and help me handle some things. I am investing in Las Vegas. I have purchased thirty acres of land and am preparing to build a multi functional and ultra luxury casino. It will take most of my time to supervise it. I still have a film company in Los Angeles, I won''t be able to take care of it while i am in Las Vegas. You can be my assistant and help me with the company affairs." "Of course, the company has dedicated managers and department heads for normal business. You just need to be responsible for it. It''s okay for you to just supervise. It doesn''t matter if you don''t have professional knowledge about filming. I just don''t want anyone to deceive me and do whatever they want while i am not around" In fact, when Siegel bought a film company, he seldom managed it. He just wanted to have a reasonable position to enter the upper class. Just identity, and the film company owner is a perfect fit. "Third, the construction of the casino will take about one and a half to two years. After it is completed, there will be a need for manpower to maintain order. At that time, I plan to take you to Las Vegas and bring your team. Form a new gang in Vegas, and you will be the underground boss of Las Vegas!" This third item is a big cake, a beautiful blueprint, after listening to Siegel''s words, countless thoughts flashed through Hardy''s mind. Siegel''s proposal does no harm to himself. Siegel must have taken a fancy to his own talents. After becoming Siegel''s direct subordinate, his status will also be greatly improved. Al Capone, the underground king of Chicago, also started as an assistant. When Johnny Torrio retired, he became the controller of Chicago. For just thought for a few seconds, then Hardy looked up at Siegel. "Mr. Siegel, I am willing to work for you." Hardy said it firmly. "Hahaha~ Very good; I dare say, Hardy, this is definitely a very correct decision." Siegel was very happy to hear Hardy''s answer. "Tomorrow I will take you to the film company to meet the person in charge there. Now I will take you to meet a few people, all of whom are my friends, in the future, you may need to meet them for matters related to the film company." Siegel led Hardy and came to the lobby. There was a carnival going on here. People were chatting, laughing, and having fun together. It was completely like a high end nightclub. Siegel led Hardy to a few middle aged men in suits and ties and said to them, "Let me introduce to you my new assistant, Jon Hardy, a very good young man." "Well, let me introduce you, this is my old friend Louis Meyer, the boss of MGM," Siegel said. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Hardy was slightly shocked. He didn''t remember the name Louis Meyer, but he was very familiar with MGM. One of the eight major Hollywood film companies, the LOGO is the big roaring lion. "Gone with the Wind" is their masterpiece, as is the 007 series, "Cats" and Mouse," Tom and Jerry. Clark Gable, Spencer Tracy, Joan Crawford, Katharine Hepburn, Greta Garbo, and Elizabeth Taylor are all it''s contracted actors. Later, after Las Vegas became the capital, MGM also invested heavily there and built the MGM Casino, which became one of the top ten casinos in Las Vegas. Louis Meyer is definitely a mover and shaker in Hollywood. "This is also my good friend, Jack Warner, one of the heads of Warner Bros. Pictures, who is now in charge of film production and distribution." Siegel introduced. Good guy, It is one of the eight major film companies. He had vaguely heard of Jack Warner, the fourth son of Warner Brothers, who later became the helmsman of Warner Brothers. Louis Meyer and Jack Warner are both Jewish, so it''s no wonder they became good friends. Siegel then introduced several people, all of whom were Hollywood movie company bosses, brokerage company presidents, etc. Hardy shook hands with these big guys respectfully and received a stack of business cards. "Okay, Jon, have fun tonight and come back to me tomorrow." Siegel said to Hardy:. Hardy said goodbye and left to find Marissa in the hall. Marissa was chatting with a group of beautifully dressed men and women. Marissa had been in the Bunny Nightclub for so long and was very familiar with handling such scenes. Her gaffe just now was because she was surprised to see so many celebrities. Hardy walked over. "Marissa, I''m back. Have you met any new friends? What else did you talk about?" Hardy asked with a smile. Although Marissa didn''t show it on the surface, she was still nervous in her heart. It was her first time attending such a high end party, when she saw Hardy coming over she took the initiative to hold his arm. When several men saw Marissa taking Hardy''s arm, their eyes were slightly disappointed. One of the handsome men smiled and said to Hardy, "We were talking about Miss Marissa. She is bright and beautiful, and she is very suitable for playing some broad roles. Miss Marissa said she is a film and television acting student. Are you also studying acting? Have you ever played any roles? "I have never played a role, and I am not studying acting." Hardy said it with a smile. After hearing this, several men''s eyes flashed with slight pride. Judging from his young appearance, and he doesn''t seems to be well know yet, so he probably won''t achieve much in the future either. He might just be a low level actor. His clothes are well decorated, so he might just be a rich second generation who just came to play. "Then what do you do? I haven''t asked for your name yet," the tall man asked. "Jon Hardy, Mr. Siegel''s assistant." Hardy said. Several people were shocked. They know Mr. Siegel''s energy; he owns a film company and has very good relations with the bosses of the eight major film companies and the heads of famous Hollywood agency companies. Hardy was Siegel''s assistant, and compared to them, who were just small actors, the difference in their status suddenly widened a lot. These people changed their faces very quickly, immediately put on bright smiles, and one after another reported their names and wanted to get to know Hardy. After chatting for a while, Hardy said goodbye to these people. When no one was around, Marissa took Hardy''s arm and said cautiously, "Hardy, this is Mr. Siegel''s house. Aren''t you afraid of being exposed when you lie?" "Haha, who told you that I lied? I am indeed now. Mr. Siegel''s film company''s assistant, let''s take you to meet those big stars," Hardy said, pulling Marissa towards the crowd of Clark Gable. Marissa immediately became nervous. "Do you really want to go there? I''m worried about being rude." "Don''t you want to say a few words to your idols?" "Of course you do." "Then come with me with your chest raised and your head up. Actually, it''s no big deal." Throughout the party, Hardy and Marissa met many celebrities. Regardless of whether they knew each other, they all went up to say hello, saying, "Hello, Mr. So and so, I am your fan, and I have watched your performance. Which movie, go up first and give me some flattery. In fact, he has never seen those movies at all, and many people have never even heard of them. ??Before contacting everyone, Marissa introduces him to who the star is, what works he has acted in, and what awards he has won, and then haha Learn now and sell later. After the first sentence brings the relationship closer, the second sentence immediately changes. I''m Mr. Benjamin Siegel''s assistant. I''m here to get to know you. I hope we have the opportunity to cooperate in the future. Everyone who came to tonight''s party naturally knew Siegel. Hardy immediately gained recognition from these people when he took on the role of assistant. In just one night, Hardy got to know dozens of Hollywood stars. Regardless of whether it will be useful in the future, let''s get familiar with it first. The party ended, and Hardy took Marissa to leave. On the way back, Marissa was still very excited. Meeting so many big Hollywood stars fulfilled her countless fantasies. Hardy Sent Marissa upstairs. After the door was closed, Marissa hugged Hardy and whispered in his ear with her red lips, "Hardy, be gentle when tearing my clothes." Chapter 31 Malicious Contract The relationship between Hardy and Marissa is a bit strange. Lover? no. Getting on the boat does not mean love. From the beginning, they came to Marissa''s house just to enjoy the feeling. They should be considered relatively good friends now, the kind that fits well on a boat. Early morning, Hardy got up, Marissa was wearing a camisole and went to help him get his clothes. Hardy touched a handful and said to Marissa with a smile, "I''m going to see Mr. Siegel today and work as an assistant in his film company, in the future I''ll have the opportunity to Help you get role in a movie" Marissa said it in surprise "Really, that''s great." She hugged Hardy and kissed him hard. After getting dressed, Hardy left. Marissa looked excited at the thought of being able to act in movies in the future. But suddenly she remembered another thing, and her joy disappeared and turned into a sad look. She thought about it. She took out a paper passbook from the cabinet. There is a string of numbers on it, 8500 $. She managed to save this money. She makes a lot of money in nightclubs, but she also spends a lot of money, especially taking acting and vocal lessons, which sometimes cost dozens of dollars per lesson. After getting dressed and put on her bag, She stuff the passbook into the bag. When Marissa went out, a taxi happened to pass by. She raised her hand to stop it and got in. "Where are you going, miss?" "No. 79 Wutong Street." Marissa reported an address. There is a signboard hanging at the door of some dilapidated two story building, "Persian Cat Performing Arts Model Agency.". Standing at the door, Marissa hesitated, or felt a little resistant and afraid, because there were people here that she hated. But she had to come for the sake of the future. Walking up to the second floor, Marissa took a deep breath and knocked on the office door. "Dang Dang Dang". "Come in." Marissa heard the familiar yet disgusted voice again, gritted her teeth, and pushed the door open. There was a man in his thirties sitting in the room. He was a little thin, but his eyes were shrewd and philistine. There was a thick stack of documents on the table, and it was obvious that the man was sorting out the informations. When he looked up and saw Marissa coming in, the man''s eyes lit up. "Wow~Wow~~, look who''s here, it''s the lovely Miss Marissa." The man closed the file, stood up, and walked to Marissa. He circled around her and said, "Marissa, I find you more beautiful. As long as you obey me, I will definitely make you a big star in Hollywood." As he said this, he flipped Marissa''s dark golden hair. Marissa shook her head in annoyance and pulled her hair out of the man''s hand. She felt that this man touching her made her sick. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. "Mr. Sanders, I came here to talk to you about something." Marissa said it with a straight face. The man stepped back indifferently, came to the table, picked up a cigarette, and lit one. "Tell me, talk to me about anything." "I want to get my agency contract back." The man smiled softly, and he said, "No problem, haha, as long as you can afford the liquidated damages, the contract can be given to you at any time." Marissa took out her bankbook from her bag, opened it, and put it on the table. "The brokerage contract signed at the beginning, the liquidated damages It''s 10,000 U.S. dollars. I have 8,500 U.S. dollars here, and I will give you the remaining 1,500 as soon as possible." Marissa came to Los Angeles to pursue her dream, but she knew nothing at that time, she was just a country girl. This guy named Brad Sanders opened a small brokerage company, specializing in looking for young men and women who know nothing, they have dreams and enthusiasm and are most easily fooled. Brad Sanders accidentally discovered Marissa and thought the girl was very beautiful. Then he used his professional skills to deceive the simple Marissa. "I will send you to a training school first." "You can start as a model." "I know many film company owners and big directors, and I can recommend you to make movies." "You will become famous and a Hollywood star. A big star." "You will make a lot of money." "You can also enter the upper class." After being fooled, Marissa signed a brokerage contract with him for 10 years. Sanders accounted for nine. Marissa also objected to this share at the time. Sanders smiled and said to her, You are still a newcomer and know nothing, I need to invest in you, when you have achievements and become a star in the future, this contract It will naturally be invalidated, and a new contract suitable for your status will be signed at that time.,Don''t worry about this small things. In this way, Marissa joined the agency. But things were not at all what Marissa imagined., she was indeed sent for training at first, took a week of classes at a modeling company, and then was dragged into acting. A group of girls were walking around on the stage, and there were a group of drooling old men under the stage. Marissa questioned whether this was a modeling performance; it was clearly a prostitution performance. Sanders told her that this was Hollywood, there was no shortage of beautiful girls, and every girl who wanted to succeed had to pay a price. "What price?" Sanders smiled. "Some of the people in the audience are big shots with status. There is a director who thinks you are good. He wants you to audition at his house tonight. If you pass, you can get a role. ." Just like that, Marissa went to the hotel in a daze and waited and waited for the rest of the day, but there was no news. Later, she heard some rumors among the girls who were traveling with her, Many of the so called directors introduced to them by Sanders were not real directors at all. One girl had met dozens of such directors, but in the end, she never even got a role. Marissa is not stupid; she knows that these girls are treated as prostitute by that damn Sanders, and he makes money by giving them to this men. Marissa was very angry and ran to Sanders'' office to question him, saying that if he lied to her, she would leave. At this time, Sanders tore off the mask of hypocrisy and revealed his ferocious face. "Your contract is in my hands. If you are disobedient, you will not be able to engage in any entertainment related activities for the next ten years. Otherwise, it will be a breach of contract, and I will take you to court." "Ten years, you will be over thirty years old at that time. 30 years old just debuting, haha. Do you think there are many thirty year old women in Hollywood who can become famous?" "Follow me, and I will arrange opportunities for you. As long as you work hard, you will succeed one day, otherwise, you will never think about it." " If you don''t want to be a star, you can go back to your hometown, find a vulgar man to marry, and cook, raise pigs, and give birth to babies every day. Hahaha, think about it. In ten years, you will become a bloated aunt. Don''t you think it''s scary?" "Be obedient, and you will have a chance to become a big star. If you don''t, you will have nothing." Marissa was frightened and staggered out of Sanders'' office. In the following days, she continued to participate in modeling performances. A few days later, Sanders called Marissa again and told her that another director was looking for her to interview. Marissa realized that Sanders was continuing to lie to her. She chose to run away, she didn''t dare go back to the agency but ran to a friend''s house, her friend came to Los Angeles with her. because she looked ordinary and had no other thoughts, she chose to work in a restaurant. Marissa lived with her for a while.. Later, she couldn''t live anymore, so she found a job in a nightclub. Because she was beautiful, the person in charge of the nightclub asked her if she would like to be a nightclub princess, which would make much more money than a waiter. In order to survive, Marissa agreed. But she always had a dream. So after making money, she went to a teacher to learn acting and singing. She also approached Sanders during the process and wanted to get her contract back, but Sanders naturally refused and told her that if she wanted to get the contract back, she could not get it back unless she paid off the liquidated damages. She remembers that the liquidated damages when she signed the contract were US$10,000. During this time in the nightclub, she had been working hard to save money. Apart from studying acting and singing, she had very few other expenses. She just wanted to get her contract back and regain her freedom. Chapter 32 Noahs Ark Film Company. Sanders picked up the bankbook and looked at the numbers on it. There was a bit of greed in his eyes. $8,500 was definitely a huge amount of money in this era. The annual income of an ordinary person is only about US$2,000. Sanders'' eyes moved, a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, and he threw the bankbook on the table and said with a smile, "You can save so much money in less than a year; you must have found a sponsor to support you, then congratulations." Marissa took the bankbook in her hand, squeezed it hard, and said, "I will give you the remaining 1,500 US dollars as soon as possible. I just want to terminate the contract." "Hahaha, you want to cancel the contract. It''s not a matter of 1,500 US dollars; that amount of money is far from enough." Sanders said. Marissa was stunned. "What do you mean? Isn''t the liquidated damages in the contract only 10,000 $?!" Sanders curled his lips and showed an evil smile. "It''s not 10,000$. You must have read it wrong." He walked to the contract safe of the company, he opened the safe, took out a portfolio, and pulled out a contract from it. "It says 100,000 U.S $ on it." He waved the contract in front of Marissa. Marissa saw the long list of values in the amount part, which was really 100,000 US dollars, and her face instantly turned pale. "How can it be 100,000? It''s obviously 10,000, and I still have a contract in my hand." Marissa shouted excitedly. Sanders chuckled a few times, walked up to Marissa, and said with a hint of showoff in his tone, "When you signed three contracts, you only looked at the top one. The one I gave you is indeed the one with 10,000 $, but the remaining two are 100,000$. You signed the contract without even looking at it. You are really a cute and innocent girl, hahahaha." "I also have a contract in my hand. I may not lose to you in the lawsuit. !" Marissa gritted her teeth, she has been in contact with many people and things over the past year and has grown a lot. She will not be intimidated by Sanders'' words. "If you go to court, haha, you will definitely lose. I have a copy here, and there is a copy at the contract notary office. It''s all 100,000 $. Even if it goes to court, I will definitely win. Little girl, you are still too young. "You are a greedy bastard!" "Hehehe, so what? I have a contract in my hand." Sanders looked proud. Marissa was furious. She looked at the contract shaking in Sanders'' hand and reached out to grab it like crazy. Sanders had been on guard against Marissa and moved much faster than her. He quickly retracted his hand and hid the contract behind his back. With his other hand, he grabbed Marissa''s slender neck and pushed her hard against the wall. "Bang~!" The back of Marissa''s head hit the wall hard. The impact made her dizzy. Sanders grabbed Marissa''s neck, pressed her against the wall, stretched her face in front of his, stared at the woman with fierce eyes, and yelled: "Bitch, don''t try to escape from my hands; I''ll give you a chance, go find you Your sponsor comes up with $100,000; otherwise, you will never leave." Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. "Go back and beg your sponsor, kneel down in front of him, be careful when serving him, and let him play with you a few more times, I believe. You still have a chance, hahaha~~." Sanders'' hand was so hard that Marissa couldn''t breathe, and her whole face turned red. "Bang~!" In desperation. Marissa raised her leg and gave Sanders a kick in the lower body. Sanders screamed in pain and jumped out. Marissa saw the opportunity, turned around, and ran out. Sanders cursed from behind. "Marissa, you stinky bitch, I won''t let you escape my grasp easily unless you get 100,000 $." Marissa staggered down the stairs and quickly rushed to the street. This was the third time she had escaped from here in such embarrassment. She waved to stop a taxi, opened the door, and rushed into the car, asking the driver to drive quickly. After the taxi drove some distance away, Marissa felt safer. Though she was safe, Marissa''s heart sank to the bottom. Only now did she know that damn Sanders, that devil, had lied to her not once but twice. He even tampered with the contract. That bastard wants to drain herself completely 100,000$ the amount of money was astronomical to her. How could she afford $100,000? after returning home, Looking at the bruises and scratches on her neck in the mirror and thinking about what she had just experienced, Marissa couldn''t help crying. ... Hardy came to Siegel Manor, and Siegel invited Hardy to have breakfast together. After breakfast, the two took a car to the film company. Noah''s Ark Film Company. At this time, due to the rapid development of Hollywood, film companies were springing up like mushrooms after a rain. Many of them were handbag companies. They spent dozens of dollars to register a company, scraped together a few thousand dollars, rented a machine, and dared to start shooting movies. Noah''s Ark is incomparable to the eight major Hollywood film companies, but among the thousands of Hollywood film companies, it is definitely in the upper reaches. It Has its own office building, the film production department, performing arts department, marketing department, finance department, administration department, and legal department are all available. It has its own contracted actors, contracted directors, and screenwriting teams. All equipment is complete and fully capable of producing a film independently. There are also distribution rights. Judging from these conditions, Noah''s Ark surpasses most film companies and is already considered very powerful. But for Siegel, the film company was just a tool for him to enter the upper class, because since he took over the film company, it has never made any money from him, and he has to make up money for the company every year to prevent it from going bankrupt. When he saw the boss coming, General Manager Cohen brought someone out to greet him. "Let me introduce you, This is my new assistant, Jon Hardy. Cohen, call the company management over and make an announcement to them." Siegel pointed at Hardy and said,. Cohen looked at Hardy with a smile and said, "Hello, Mr. Hardy." He extended his hand. "Hello, Manager Cohen, nice to meet you." Hardy shook hands with the other party politely. After convening a meeting with the management and introducing Hardy, Siegel asked about the company''s operating conditions. Cohen said, "We are currently planning to shoot a western themed movie. The screenwriter already has a first draft of the script. It is about three friends. "Are you sure you''ll make money from this movie?" Siegel asked, looking at Cohen. "Oh~~ The writing team said the story was very good, and the director team said the film is full of human conflicts and should be very thoughtful when shot," said Cohen. Hardy sat next to him, his eyebrows raised as he listened. If a movie keeps talking about human nature and ideological height, it will basically be insulated from the box office. How many movies can there be in history that have the same ideological height and box office? Obviously, with the strength of people in Noah''s Ark its impossible for them to have the ability to make a classic movie like that. "How much funding is expected to be needed?" Siegel asked. "The filming cost is initially estimated at 700,000 US dollars. The company can only provide 150,000 US dollars now. What do you think, Mr. Siegel?" Cohen looked at Siegel and asked. What he meant was to ask Siegel if he wanted to invest money. Siegel''s biggest idea now is to build a Las Vegas casino. He is very short on money, so how can he have any spare money to invest in movies? "I don''t plan to invest in this movie. You can just follow the normal process." Siegel said calmly. "Okay, then I''ll contact other film companies to see if we can get an investment." Cohen said it quickly. After saying this, Siegel was about to leave the film company. When he left, he told Hardy that he was going to Las Vegas during this time and to call him if he had anything to do. After Siegel left, Cohen and other department heads exchanged pleasantries with Hardy. After getting to know each other, Cohen took Hardy to an office. "Hardy, this is the office of the assistant chairman. You can work here from now on." Cohen said it with a smile. "Thank you, general manager; you can call me Jon from now on." Hardy said. "Then let''s work together." Chapter 33 Talking and Comforting Marissa After General Manager Cohen left, Hardy started to work for the film company. He took a look at each department to understand the situation and soon came to the entertainment department. The Performing Arts Department is mainly responsible for artist signing, training, arranging performances, selecting actors for movies, etc. When Thomas, the director of the performing arts department, saw Hardy coming, he smiled and stood up to shake hands. "Assistant Hardy, welcome to the company. If you want to know anything about the performing arts department, you can ask me anytime." After the two sides chatted for a while, Hardy asked, "What are the requirements for signing a new actor?" "If the man is handsome and the woman is beautiful, and they feel that they have a future, they can sign the most basic contract and then we train them. Every year, the company recruits more than a dozen new artists, but so far, there hasn''t been a big star yet, and they are just hanging around in the third or fourth tier at most," Thomas said. "What''s the entry level contract like? Do artists get paid?" "Yes, it''s 40 US dollars a week. The company gets 10% of the acting income and 90% goes to the actor. The contract period ranges from 6 to 10 years. But after gaining some fame, the share will gradually improve; how many shares you can get depends on the artist''s own strength," Thomas said. 10 to 60 split, it''s really a vampire treaty. But even so, Many people are still flocking to this circle. There are also many people who work hard to increase their fame and can make various sacrifices. "I have a friend who really wants to enter the entertainment industry. Of course, she must start as a junior actor." Hardy naturally asked this question for Marissa. Hardy used ''she'' in his words, and Thomas already had a clear understanding in his mind. Hardy is the boss''s newly appointed assistant and can be considered a senior management member of the company. Thomas also wants to have a good relationship with him, and now is the opportunity that comes to his door. "No problem, ask your friend to come for an interview when she has time. The company''s signing quota has been used up this year, but it will be 1946 in more than ten days. The company will launch a new signing plan. If your friend is suitable, she can sign an artist contract with the company," Thomas said with a smile. Hardy smiled. "Then let''s talk about it when we have time. I''ll go check out other departments." Hardy smiled and extended his hand to Thomas. Thomas shook his hand. It''s hard to tell if that was a farewell or a deal done. Some people say that the world is about worldliness. This sentence applies to many places, including officialdom, shopping malls, and the workplace. When Hardy returned to his office, someone had already sent him detailed information about the company, including financial status, company personnel, equipment reserves, etc. If he want to truly understand a company, starting with this information is the fastest way. Hardy looked at the information carefully. After coming to this world, Hardy discovered one thing. In addition to his physical recovery ability being greatly enhanced, his memory was also much stronger than before. Although he did not reach the level of photographic memory, he could still remember 40¨C50% of it after reading it once. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. As long as he read it a few times, he could memorize it all and remember it very firmly. By the time Hardy finished reading the information, it was already dark outside. Hardy raise his wrist to check the time. six thirty. Going to the factory base to check? Nothing seems to be wrong. Go back to Bill''s house after to sleep. Then it is better to go to Marissa and tell her the good news of signing a contract with Noah''s Ark. Hardy thought she would be very happy. Driving to the downstairs of Marissa''s house, Hardy found that the windows were dark. was she not at home? Ring the doorbell. Not long after, the door opened. When Marissa saw that it was Hardy, she smoothed her hair in a panic and let him into the room. "I didn''t expect you to come over." After Marissa closed the door, she hid her face to the side, deliberately hiding it from Hardy. But all this cannot escape Hardy''s eyes. He saw that Marissa''s eyes were slightly red and swollen, and she had obviously cried. He also found a circle of bruises on Marissa''s neck. Hardy frowned. "Marissa, what happened?" Hardy asked softly. "No, nothing happened." Marissa said it in an evasive tone. Her affairs have nothing to do with Hardy, and she don''t want Hardy to worry about her own affairs. Hardy is just a small gang leader. He probably doesn''t make as much as Marissa does every month, and he can''t solve her troubles. "Tell me what happened, Marissa, maybe I can share some of it with you. Some things may not be a good thing to bear alone." Hardy said softly, stroking Marissa''s hair. At this moment, Marissa felt like she was being cared for, her eyes turned red unconsciously, and tears couldn''t help but flow down. Sobbing, Marissa told Hardy exactly what happened today. Hardy''s eyes narrowed slightly, with a cold light in his eyes. ... Persian Cat Model Entertainment Agency. Brad Sanders. He remembered the name. Marissa shed tears as she spoke, and the crystal tears slid down her white cheeks. Under the light, it gave the two people a sad yet a beautiful feeling. "Hardy, I''ve decided that I don''t want to be a star anymore. As long as I don''t become an actor or sing, that bastard Sanders won''t be able to control me." "Starting tomorrow, I won''t take acting or vocal lessons. That''s also good i can save a lot of money." When she said this, she shed more tears. Hardy put his arms around Marissa and let her head rest on his shoulder. "No, no, I think you should still learn. That''s your favorite thing, isn''t it? You can perform for me alone. I also like to hear you sing." Hardy comforted her gently. "Christmas is coming soon, how are you going to spend it?" Hardy asked. Marissa was a little stunned by this sudden change of topic. "I''m alone in Los Angeles, who am i suppose to spend it with?" "I''m alone too." "Do you want to spend Christmas with me?" Marissa raised her head, no longer crying, and looked at Hardy with watery eyes. . "Will you give me a gift?" Hardy asked with a smile. "Of course, what do you like?" Hardy shook his head and said, "I can''t ask for a specific Christmas gift, otherwise, it will lose its mystery, I hope it is a gift that I like and is special." "It seems that I have to prepare well and give it to you when the time comes. A gift you''ll love," Marissa said with a smile. Marissa finally calmed down. Made a simple dinner. The two were lying on the bed, hugging each other. Just chatting lightly, Marissa slowly fell asleep in Hardy''s arms. The next day. Hardy drove to the Lower City factory. Except for Sean Ryder, who went to deliver the goods, Henry and the other guys were all there. "Is there any big news from the Spanish gang?" Hardy asked. "They are still looking around for news about the casino robbery and even offered a reward of 10,000 US dollars, but we did it very cleanly and left no clues. The Spaniards can''t trace us." Henry said. At this time, Leo said, "Boss, Kerry, and I overheard the news that the Spanish gang is preparing to expand the drug business. There has been a big drug deal recently, but the details have not been found." The Spanish casino was robbed, and the loss exceeded $200,000 in cash. The casino could not operate normally for a short period of time, resulting in huge losses. It is estimated that Dani is preparing to expand their drug business to make up for other losses. Hardy thought for a while, "Leo, Kerry, you two investigate this clue carefully, but you must pay attention to your own safety." "We know the boss." Hardy turned to look at Henry and Matthew and said to them The two of them "You two are going to help me investigate a person. That person''s name is Brad Sanders, the manager of the Persian Cat Model Entertainment Agency on Grant Street." "Okay, boss, is this person very important?" Henry asked. "Well, it''s very important." Hardy nodded lightly. Hardy did not act rashly, killing is easy, but it may not solve the current problem. Hardy wanted to investigate his enemy know him and understand him better before proceeding to take action. Chapter 34 Contract Signing Within two days, a piece of information was delivered to Hardy. Brad Sanders, 38 years old, Australian, manager of Persian Cat Model Entertainment Agency, is one of the partners of the company, holding 36% of the shares. The following information also includes his residence and daily activities, this guy was divorced a few years ago, He often brings his contracted artists home. Both men and women ~~ Sanders has been sued in court by many contracted artists, but he always wins because he holds their contracts in his hands. This guy is a typical black agent, there are many such agencies in Hollywood. They have no resources, but they make fantastic promises and trick young boys and girls who come to Hollywood with dreams and ambitions to sign contracts. As soon as they signed the contract, they were shackled, use various means to induce or coerce. Gradually develop them into female ducks to make money for themselves, If they resist at all, they will be threatened with the contract. Due to the huge liquidated damages, many people had to compromise. There are many such brokerage companies in later generations, and many people are still deceived every year. After reading the information, Hardy said to himself that it seemed useless even if he killed the guy directly, sanders was only one of the shareholders, if he died, Marissa''s contract would still not be terminated. He tapped his fingers on the table and slowly thought about how to solve this matter. Hardy came to Noah''s Ark Film Company and called the staff from the administrative department. "Help me contact several brokerage companies. Just mention that our company is going to expand the staff of the performing arts department next year and ask them to bring information. If there is a suitable actors, we are willing to buy them." After saying that, he handed the staff a list of brokerage companies. "Okay, Assistant Hardy!" The staff took the list and contacted those companies. Buying actors is normal in Hollywood. Many of the big stars of later generations came from small agencies before they became famous, and they only signed contracts with big film companies after they became famous. Sanders was a little excited when he received a call from Noah''s Ark Film Company. For a small agency like theirs, the biggest way to make money is to sell their artist contracts to big companies. Noah''s Ark Film Company is not a small company, and it may be able to make another fortune this time. The next day, Sanders came to Noah''s Ark Films, though he came quite early but there are already two brokerage company leaders ahead of him. Both parties knew each other and exchanged a few words of pretense. "Mr. Walter, Assistant Hardy asks you to come in." The staff asked the first agent in line to enter the room. About ten minutes later, Walter walked out, a little frustrated. Sanders quickly stopped him. "Walter, isn''t there anyone they like?" "That Mr. Hardy has a very high vision and is only interested in the two artists I have. However, the price quoted is very low, and the transfer fee per person is only $5,000. I want to go back and think about it." Walter said that and left. The second agent came out, and Sanders could tell that this guy probably wasn''t very successful either. Upon entering the office, Sanders saw a young man sitting behind his desk, the name tag on the desk read, Assistant to the Chairman, Jon Hardy. Sanders stepped forward with a smile on his face and said, "Hello, Assistant Hardy, I am Brad Sanders, the manager of the Persian Cat Model Entertainment Agency." Hardy looked at the guy lightly and said, "Sanders, sir, please sit down and show me the artists information." Sanders quickly handed over a thick stack of information. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Hardy looked through it, and after looking at four or five pictures, he saw Marissa''s information, with several pictures of Marissa sandwiched on it. Marissa in the photo still looks a bit immature. It should have been taken two years ago. he didn''t stop for a long time, after looking at it a few times, he put it aside and continued to read. A total of eleven pieces of information, Hard had to admit that although Sanders is a bastard, he has a pretty good eye for selecting people. The artists in Sanders'' hands are obviously a level higher than those of the previous two agencies. Hardy flipped through the information again and pulled out five pictures, including Marissa. "Each of these five people i will give you 5,000$ for each one of them" Hardy said calmly. Sanders took the information and looked at it. He had to say that assistant Hardy had really good vision these five people were the best in his hands. "Mr. Hardy, the price you gave is too low, I think their worth can reach ten thousand dollars." Sanders said it with a smile. Hardy shook his head. "They don''t have any performance experience, and they don''t have any good work, to put it bluntly, it''s no different from an extra. If I find an extra, I only need to pay a few dollars a day, and a lot of people will come over." "They all signed ten year contracts, and they still have eight or nine years contracts. They may become big stars in the future." Sanders argued. "So what? They have no value now six thousand each, no more," Hardy said. When he heard the price of six thousand, Sanders was already a little tempted, but he was a shrewd small businessman. He began to introduce everyone''s specialties to Hardy, exaggerating their advantages as much as possible, hoping to sell more money. As for the liquidated damages of 10,000 or 100,000 $ in the contract, that is just a way to defraud artists. The chance of getting this money from them is very slim. It is better to sell them directly. "Six thousand five hundred dollars per person, no more. If you feel it is not suitable, I will find another company." Hardy said it impatiently. "Okay, I agree." After grinding out another $2,500, Sanders was already very satisfied. Moreover, among these artists, there are still one or two that are troublesome, and he may not get a penny from them, so it is better to sell them. "When do you think we''re going to sign?" Sanders asked. "Tomorrow, both of us will prepare the information and directly sign the contract to complete the transaction." Hardy said. "Okay, okay." Sanders quickly agreed with a smile. In fact, this recruitment was done privately by Hardy, he just used his identity as the assistant to the chairman of Noah''s Ark to prevent the other party from becoming suspicious. He is not yet qualified to use company funds, and it is still tens of thousands of dollars. However, Hardy had already thought of this, the day before yesterday, he found someone to buy a shell company and changed its name to ''Hardy Economic Company''. Simple and easy to remember. Hardy owns 100% of the shares. After Sanders left, Hardy went to the company''s legal department and asked the staff here to help him draw up a sales contract. The next afternoon. The sky was overcast, and it was raining lightly. Sanders came to a bar on Sunset Street with the contract, he was a little confused as to why the contract was not signed at the movie company but at the bar. But he had no doubts about Hardy''s identity. He was just a little surprised. The car stopped on the roadside and walked into the bar box. Hardy was already sitting there, waiting for him. There was a middle aged man in a suit next to him, Sanders quickly stepped forward with a smile. "Hello, Mr. Hardy." "Have you brought all the contracts?" Hardy asked. "yes I brought it." He said, taking out a stack of contracts from his bag and handing them over. Hardy didn''t answer, but pointed to the middle aged man next to him and said "This is the person from the company''s legal department. He is responsible for checking the contract. Let professional people do professional things, are you alright with that?" "Yes, yes, yes Mr. Hardy is right," Sanders said with a smile. After reading all the contracts, the middle aged man nodded to Hardy and said, "Assistant Hardy, there is no problem with the contract." "Thank you then." Hardy thanked the middle aged man. The middle aged man came out of the box, and Hardy pushed the purchase and sale agreement to Sanders: "Take a look, and if there is no problem, sign the contract." Sanders picked up the contract and looked at it carefully. He was also a master of playing with contracts, and he knew the water inside was very deep, so he looked carefully for fear of something going wrong. There was nothing wrong with the content of the contract; it was just a normal sales contract, but the signature at the end was Hardy Agency. Sanders asked with some surprise, "Mr. Hardy, why is it the Hardy Agency. Shouldn''t it be the Noah''s Ark Film Company?" Hardy had already guessed that this guy would have this question and said calmly., "Hardy Agency is a subsidiary of Noah''s Ark. It was just established to better manage contracted artists, from now on, I will be mainly responsible for this matter." "Whether it is Hardy Agency or Noah''s Ark Film Company, it has nothing to do with our contract, right?" Hardy brushed off Sanders. "Ah, yes, it doesn''t matter; it''s all the same actually." Sanders said it with a smile. Large companies will open many subsidiaries, and the relationships between the companies are complicated, but this has nothing to do with his business. He can sign the contract if there is no problem. Sanders picked up the pen and signed his name. Hardy got the contract. From this moment on, Marissa''s economic contract was transferred to Hardy, and now Hardy is Marissa''s big boss and sponsor father. He took out a paper bag from the side and threw a few wads of money on the table. "32,500$ count it yourself." Sanders quickly took the money and started counting it. Hardy lit a cigar; blue smoke rose, and he narrowed his eyes at Sanders, who was counting the money. After counting quickly, Sanders put the money into his bag with a smile. "The number is right, Mr. Hardy. It''s really a pleasure to work with you." "The feeling is mutual" Hardy picked up the contract and stoodd up. "You''re too polite." The two of them pushed open the door and came out. The light rain was still pouring down. Sanders said goodbye, got in the car, started the car, and drove away. At this time, a black Ford car started up on the side of the road and followed Sanders'' car. Hardy saw it and smiled slightly. He flicked the document bag in his hand, got into his car, and left. Chapter 35 Darker than Black Sanders drove home and was very excited all the way. He didn''t spend a cent when signing the contract, and he just relied on his words to trick the girls into signing the contract with him. In just one or two years, each person sold for more than 6,000 US dollars, this kind of business can be said to have zero costs and a huge profit. As for the future lives and deaths of those girls,. He doesn''t care. When he returned to the agency, he looked at the dilapidated two story building when he got off the car, Sanders thought that he should rent a better place next year and make it look like a big company, so that it would be easier to trick girls into taking the bait. You can also recruit a few more subordinates, spread them out, and let them look for people everywhere. If you can sign thirty contracts a year, it will be hundreds of thousands of dollars. If you can fool 50, that will be three hundred thousand dollars. If you cheat 100 people, that''s five to six million US dollars. Hahaha, he will be rich then. He went upstairs with brisk steps, opened the office door with the key, turned around, and bumped his buttocks. The door closed with a bang, and he turned around and locked it in place. Putting the leather bag on the table, he went to the small bar and poured himself a glass of wine. He turned on the gramophone, and suddenly beautiful music came out. He took a sip of wine and performed two brisk steps to the music. When he came to the desk, he took out the banknotes. Looking at the thick pile of money on the table, Sanders lay on it and sniffed it vigorously. Money smells so good, open the bottom drawer of the desk, find a long key from it, walk to an oil painting on the wall, and push the painting to the side, revealing a small safe behind it. Insert the key, turn the combination lock, and the safe opens with a click. There was some more important information inside, as well as a wad of banknotes, estimated to be only four to five thousand dollars. Sanders neatly stacked the money he earned today in it, admiring the thick stack of banknotes. He felt very accomplished. "Bang bang bang~!" Just then, there was a knock on the office door. Sanders was startled. He quickly closed the safe door, took out the key, and put it in his pocket. He scrambled the password and pushed the painting back to its original position. "Who is it?" Sanders asked as he walked toward the door. "Checking the water meter." A male voice came from outside the door. Sanders wondered. Check the water meter. Do I have a water meter here? He said that and opened the door. "Are you making a mistake?" Before Sanders could finish speaking, a black gun muzzle was pressed directly against his face. Sanders was so frightened that he did not dare to make any sound. Only then did Sanders realize that he had been burglarized. Henry put a gun to Sanders head to let him into the house. Sanders went in backwards. As soon as he closed the door, Matthew punched Sanders in the stomach. "Bang~oh!" Sanders groaned. This punch made his stomach and intestines tangle together. He fell to the ground in pain, and curled up into a shrimp. After Sanders was knocked down, Matthew did not let him go. He took out a rope from his pocket and tied Sanders'' arms behind his back. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Henry searched the house, focusing on Sanders'' wallet, which contained only some documents and no money. Henry came to Sanders, kneed down, and searched him. Apart from his wallet, he only had a safe key. "Tell me, where is the safe?" Henry asked. "I don''t have a safe, that''s the key to my house." Sanders said it painfully. Matthew grabbed Sanders and punched him hard in the stomach. "Ah~!" Sanders couldn''t help but scream in pain. Henry held up the safe key and sneered, "Do you think we are fools? This is clearly a safe key, and the brand is Diebold." As he spoke, he waved the key in front of Sanders'' eyes. There is a trademark on the key handle. "No, no, no, I have no money, you can''t take my money." Sanders cried. "Bang~!" He was greeted with another hard punch. Behind the painting, Henry found the safe, inserted the key, and turned to Sanders. "Tell me the password." "09-15-21." After turning the combination lock, the safe popped open. Reveal the banknotes inside. Sanders was heartbroken at the moment. He had just made a big sum of money, but it was about to be snatched away before he could enjoy any of it. His heart was bleeding. Henry glanced at Matthew, and Matthew understood and gave Sanders a hard blow on the back of the neck. Ga~! Sanders fainted. Henry took out all the money from the safe and put it into Sanders'' bag. The other items were not moved, the safe was locked again, the password was messed up, the key was pulled out, and the painting was reset. Henry tidied up the office again so that no one who came would find out that a robbery had taken place here. "Okay, let''s go." The two of them led Sanders out, locked the door, and soon arrived downstairs. A car was parked at the front door of the agency. Neil, who had been waiting in the car, got out of the car and opened the door, at the rear door, Henry and Matthew quickly got into the car with Sanders on their backs. The car door closed, and the car drove away from the brokerage company. Within a few seconds, no one noticed what happened here. The car drove out of Los Angeles and came to the edge of a wild forest at this time, a car was parked here, and a pit that could accommodate one person was dug in the wild. The car stopped. Henry got into the car with the bag. After seeing Hardy, he smiled and said, "Boss, you got your money back. It''s all in here and there is more than 4,000$ extra, It should be the guy''s own." Hardy nodded with satisfaction. "I only get my money back, you can divide the extra than four thousand among you," Hardy said. Several people nearby laughed happily. They didn''t expect to earn money from such a small job. Each of the eight of them could get 500 $. "Boss, how should we deal with this guy?" Henry asked. "Haven''t we already dug a hole?" Hardy said. Sanders was dragged out of the car, and the cold rain hit him on the face, waking him up, before he could react, he was thrown into the pit. He reacted immediately. Endless fear field his heart. "Ah, ah, ah, no, don''t kill me!" Sanders struggled hard and kept twisting his body, but he was tied so tightly that he could not break free. Wow~! Wow~! Leo, Nick, and others filled the soil with shovels. Sanders was even more frightened. "Who are you, and why do you want to kill me? I am from the Spanish gang, If you kill me, Red Dani will not let you go." Sanders shouted in panic. The people burying him stopped and turned to look in the direction of the car. Hardy naturally heard Sanders shouting. He really didn''t expect that Sanders was actually a Spanish gang member. But it''s right to think about it. What this guy does is fraud, tricking girls into signing contracts and organizing them to sell their bodies. If they resist, he either intimidate or threaten them, which is no different from committing a crime. If there was no gang support behind him, this guy probably wouldn''t be able to do so many things. "Henry, go ask him what else he knows." Hardy ordered Henry who was next to him. Henry walked over and started asking. Sanders just wants to survive now and answered all questions. Henry said. "How much do you know about the Spanish Gang?" "I don''t know much. I am only responsible for the affairs of that brokerage company and not involved in other matters." "Your brokerage company is also a subsidiary of the Spanish gang?" "I account for 40%. Gangs account for 60%." "How many such brokerage companies are affiliated with the Spanish gang?" "I know of three." Then the names of the other two were revealed. "What do you do with the people you signed?" "Some of them were sold, some went to work in nightclubs, some ran away, and some were sent to film companies to make movies." "What film company?" "Meiji Film Company, The Spanish gang has its own adult Film Company, called Meiji Films, which specializes in making this kind of movie. " Hardy has read a lot of information about Hollywood these days, and he has actually seen Meiji. film company''s name. In addition to more than a thousand regular film companies in Hollywood, there are nearly 300 adult film companies, which also produce a large number of films every year. The performance of many adult film companies is often higher than that of regular film companies. However, the government also knows the dangers involved, so it rarely issues licenses to adult Film Companies. There are only more than 20 adult Film Companies with legal licenses in Hollywood, but these include the "Meiji Film". I didn''t expect it to be the Spanish gang property. They were deceived into signing a contract, forced to sell their bodies, and finally either entered Nightclub or went to film adult movies, It was really a one stop service. Not satisfied with lying on the girls'' bodies and sucking their blood, they also had to break their bones and suck their marrow. If Marissa hadn''t escaped in the first place, The outcome will definitely be an extremely miserable end. Hardy glanced at the guy in the pit from a distance and said coldly, "Bury him!". "Help~!" "No~ no!" "Let me go, please let me go~~~" Sanders was buried in the soil amid wailing and screaming. After filling in, Matthew and others trampled the soil flat before leaving. Chapter 36 Ava Gardner After class, Marissa walked out of the classroom with her friends Cheryl and Evie. Cheryl''s sharp eyes saw a beautiful luxury car parked across the road. The dark blue body and white roof have an elegant and majestic shape, and the car logo is a swan with spread wings. "Wow, look, that car is a Packard." Cheryl shouted softly. Evie also saw the Packard car, her eyes lit up, and she said, "This car is so beautiful, it costs no less than 10 000$." Seeing the Packard in this era is like seeing the luxurious Bentley and Rolls Royce in later generations. Just as the two were praising the car, the door opened, and a man in a crisp suit got out of the car. The two women noticed that the man was well dressed, handsome, and had a gold watch in his hand, the two women''s eyes suddenly gleamed. Is he here to find a female companion? The two of them straightened their bodies unconsciously with sweet smiles on their faces, making themselves look more beautiful. But they had a feeling, that this man seems kinda familiar. "Marissa." Hardy called softly. "Jon~~" Marissa waved to Hardy happily. She said to the two girls beside her "My friend is here to pick me up. I''m leaving first. By the way, Christmas Eve tonight and Christmas tomorrow. I wish you a Christmas Eve and a Merry Christmas in advance." After that, she trotted across the road. As soon as she ran to the car, Hardy took out his hand from behind, holding a bouquet of beautiful roses. "This is for you." "It''s so beautiful." Marissa took the flower and kissed Hardy on the face. The two got in the car, and the Packard car started off and left, leaving two girls looking at each other on the side of the road. "That person is Marissa''s friend." Evie asked in surprise. "I remembered that it was the man who drove a Ford to pick up Marissa a few days ago. It turned out that he was so rich." Cheryl finally remembered who Hardy was. They seemed to have discussed at the beginning that Marissa was wasting her time by hanging out with a men like that. "Have you seen his clothes? They should be ''Brooks Brothers''. The car he drives is a Packard. The gold watch on his wrist is definitely a Rolex. This outfit can buy a luxury apartment in Los Angeles." Evie said it with an envious tone. Cheryl pouted, "Who knows if it was rented?" This sentence is so sour. jealous? envious? There should be both. Why not Herself? Hardy and Marissa had dinner at an Italian restaurant. Went shopping and look at the lights. they went to the cinema to watch another movie, the classic movie "Casablanca," which was released in 1942 and won an Oscar in 1944. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Hardy had to admit that Ingrid Bergman is really beautiful in the movie. She seems to be just 30 years old this year. After watching the movie, the two drove home, came to the living room, and Marissa sat down with Hardy, poured him another glass of cherry wine, and turned on the music. Smiling charmingly at Hardy: "I''ve prepared a gift for you. I''ll go to the room to get it for you. Don''t come in and peek." Hardy nodded with a smile. When Marissa entered the room, Hardy took out a portfolio from his pocket, and he also prepared a gift for Marissa. Sat comfortably on the sofa, listen to music and drink, not a long time after. The bedroom door opened slightly with a crack. A long, slender, straight leg stretched out from the crack in the door, wearing lace stockings and high heels, dancing to the music. These legs are enough to play for a year, the door is ajar. Marissa was wearing a beautiful halter top. She lay by the door and gave Hardy a charming smile. "I bought a few clothes specially for you to tear off at night." She walked up to Hardy with model steps, sitting on the man''s lap. "Hardy, do you like this gift?" "Yes i love it. Marissa, I have prepared a gift for you too." "What is it?" Marissa asked happily. Hardy picked up the portfolio from the table next to him and handed it to the woman. The woman looked at Hardy in surprise and gently opened the portfolio. When she pulled out the contract and read the contents clearly, her face was full of shock. "Jon, this is my financial contract; is it true?!" Marissa asked in disbelief. "Of course it''s true. I''ve bought your financial contract. Now that Sanders can no longer control you, "This contract is with me now. When Christmas is over, I will accompany you to cancel the original contract. From now on, you will be completely free." "This is my Christmas gift to you. How do you like it?"" Marissa became more and more excited as she listened. Her eyes turned red at the end, and she hugged Contract hard, and her tears rolled down uncontrollably. Eventually, it turned into a whimper. Lying on Hardy''s shoulder, she cried happily. The previous experience was a nightmare for her, making her live in fear. Hardy taking back her agency contract was like a prince slaying the dragon and lifting her out of the abyss. Marissa hugged Hardy forcefully and kissed him deeply. After a long time, The two separated. The melancholy disappeared from Marissa''s face and she looked radiant. She looked at her contract again. "Jon, I can act and sing again in the future, right?" Marissa asked excitedly while holding Hardy. "Of course." "Remember what I told you last time? I am now an assistant at the ''Noah''s Ark'' film company. After you regain your freedom, you can sign a contract with Noah''s Ark. There will be many acting opportunities in the future." Hardy said. Marissa was jumping on Hardy''s lap with excitement. Suddenly, she remembered something. "Hardy, I have an idea, I want to change my name, when I was studying acting, the teacher told us that actors need to have a more recognizable name." "Marissa is a name that is too common, In our village, there were three girls named Marissa, and the teacher suggested that I change my name when I debuted. I also wanted to change it and say goodbye to my old self. "Have you ever thought about your new name?" Hardy asked with a smile. "What do you think of the name Ava? My surname is Gardner. Do you think the name Ava Gardner sounds good?" Marissa asked with a smile. Hardy was stunned. He looked at Marissa with a surprised look on his face. He never expected that the girl in his arms would turn out to be Ava Gardner. "What''s wrong, Jon? You don''t like this name?" Marissa asked, looking at the stunned Hardy. "Oh no, that''s a very good name." Marissa laughed, "Since you think it''s good too, I''ll be called Ava Gardner from now on." Marissa made her decision. "Remember, call me Ava from now on." the woman said, stroking Hardy''s cheek. "Okay Ava~" If he remembers correctly, Ava Gardner is the 25th "Greatest Actress of the Century" selected by the American Film Institute. The third place is Audrey Hepburn, the fourth place is Ingrid Bergman, the sixth place is Marilyn Monroe, the seventh place is Elizabeth Taylor, and the 16th place is Vivien Leigh. In the late 1940s, Ava Gardner gradually came to prominence and was hailed as a new generation of Hollywood queen, she was charming in every gesture and became one of the most sought after actresses in Hollywood. Later films were nominated for an Oscar for Best Actress, and she received a hand print on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. It was not until the mid 1950s that she was replaced by Marilyn Monroe. But with Marissa in his arms, no, should be called Ava Gardner now. Is it the same Ava Gardner? The time and space he traveled through didn''t seem to be any historical time and space at all, and many things were specious and even Hardy couldn''t understand. Ava Gardner looked at the handsome man, lay down, and whispered in the man''s ear, "Hardy, aren''t you going to open and take a look at your gift?" Her voice was delicate and seductive! Hardy picked up the woman and stood up, walking towards the bedroom. What a wonderful Christmas Eve tonight! Chapter 37 Operation Christmas Eve After a good night''s sleep, Hardy suddenly felt itchy on his face, touching it with His hand. Hardy grabbed a delicate little hand and opened his eyes. It''s dawn outside. Sunlight shines into the room from the window. Ava Gardner was lying next to him, her shoulders half covered by the quilt, and she was teasing Hardy with her hands, but he grabbed her. The woman''s beautiful big eyes looked at him. "What''s wrong, Ava? Why are you looking at me like that?" Hardy asked with a smile at the woman. "Hardy, I just thought about it. Why don''t I leave my management contract with you? Haven''t you already established a management company? I will be your contracted artist." Ava Gardner said. "I don''t have time to manage artists." Hardy spread his hands. "Then I''m free to do what i want, as long as you think about me when you see any opportunity that''s enough for me" Ava Gardner said it with a smile. Hardy thought for a moment. In fact, it''s not too much trouble to set up a brokerage company. It''s not a big deal to recruit a few brokers. "Okay, then I will find a few agents and set up a brokerage company. Then I will change your contract and split it 50-50. This is the treatment of a big star in Hollywood." Hardy looked at the woman and said,. "Thank you, boss." Ava Gardner said it with a happy face. ... Today is Christmas. It''s a day of carnival in the city, with floats passing by on the streets, shopping malls full of people, and the song "White Christmas" playing on the gramophone. Hardy is enjoying his first Christmas in this world, but someone is not idle. The Spanish gang''s casino was robbed, and they lost more than 200,000 US dollars in cash. The casino was bombed, and many of their men were killed, so the casino had to temporarily close down. Daniel sent people around to look for the murderer and even issued a reward for the murder, but so far there were no clues, which made him very annoyed. "Berstein, how is that batch of goods?" Dani asked his military advisor. "It should already be at sea, It''s still the same route as before, the big ship sails offshore and then takes a small boat to the dock." Burstein said. Daniel turned the cigar in his mouth and ordered, "The transaction volume this time is five times that of the past. We must ensure safety and not cause any problems." After doing business for so long, Dani is already familiar with it, but this time it still made him slightly nervous. After all, the transaction volume this time is far higher than before. "The personnel are ready. As long as the goods arrive at the port, they will be traded immediately, and the other party will leave with the money. We will deliver the goods to the secret location in less than an hour," Burstein said. "Well, make sure nothing goes wrong." Just then, there was a knock on the door. "Come in~!" A small boss of Dani''s men named Cranston walked in and said, "Boss, I want to report to you some information that may be related to the robbery of the casino." These days, Dani has been tracking down the robbery of the casino but there was no clue. Now that Cranston said there was information about the casino robbery, he immediately became energetic. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. What information?" "My men discovered a situation. Do you remember Bill from the Austrian gang? He was the guy who had a conflict with Cook." "You mean Bill was responsible for the casino robbery?" Dani asked with a frown. "No, my subordinates found out that Bill has been hospitalized after being injured and has not yet been discharged from the hospital. The information I learned is that after Bill was injured, someone took over Bill''s territory. I heard that it was Bill''s friend named Jon Hardy." "Later, Jon Hardy gathered a group of subordinates, all of whom had served in the Marine Corps." "Then I wondered why Jon Hardy summoned so many men, how he paid them, where he got the money, and what motive he had for doing that. I suspect that he may be the one who attacked our casino.". Dani narrowed his eyes. Jon Hardy is a friend of Bill''s. Bill was wounded by Cook, and Cook was killed in a surprise attack that night. And then this guy named Jon Hardy took over his territory. Later, a group of former soldiers gathered together, and had some troubles with their Spanish gang. There is indeed a motive for hardy and his group to rob the Spanish casino. Several thoughts passed through Dani''s mind, and he looked at his advisor Burstein and asked, "Do you think it might be this Jon Hardy who did it?" Burstein thought for a moment, "There is some suspicion." Dani bit hard. Chewing his cigar, he was worried about the robbery of the casino and said in a deep voice, "Since there is a suspicion, let''s investigate it." After saying that, he looked at Cranston and said, "I leave this matter to you, find a way to figure out if they did the robbery" "Okay, boss." Cranston happily accepted the task. If he gets a mission, he will earn money. If the investigation proves that it was indeed the person named Jon Hardy who led the robbery, then he has made a great contribution and is expected to be promoted in the future. The previous person in charge of the casino was shot to death, and it has not yet opened. If he investigates this matter clearly, he may be able to be the new person in charge of the casino. That is definitely a worry-free job with a lot of women and money. After Dani finished speaking, he stood up and said to his Advisor Burstein, "Okay, what we just talked about will be carried out according to the previous plan, you will be personally responsible for it." "I have a party with some big shots tonight, and that group of gentlemen can''t be neglected." After saying that, he picked up his hat and walked out. Cranston and Burstein followed out of the office. When they walked out, Dani and Burstein were walking side by side, and Cranston followed behind, he vaguely heard what Dani said about the dock and the deployment of more manpower. He didn''t care what it meant. After seeing Dani off, Cranston got into his car. The driver turned around and asked, "Boss, where are you going now?" "Back to the station." On the way, Cranston kept thinking about how to complete Dani''s mission. Trying to figure out whether the casino robbery was actually done by Jon Hardy and how, there are no clues unless he admits it himself. Back at the station, the guy Cranston called to provide him with information, a thief named Naxi, was in his fifties. He looked thin and wretched, and he was dressed sloppily. He looked like a tramp. Don''t underestimate these guys, who live at the bottom of society, these people are often the ones who know the best information, and what happens on the streets rarely escapes their eyes. "Did you find where they are based?" Cranston asked. "In the Austrian gang''s territory, there is a sweater factory in Grants street, there are about eight or nine people in total going in and out, but not all of them live inside," Naxi said. Cranston frowned and thought of countermeasures. Cranston couldn''t think of any great plans, in fact, the simplest and most effective way is to rush in and arrest those people, and after questioning them, everything will become clear. If they dare to resist, they will be killed directly. If they didn''t do it, it''s very simple, just pretend it didn''t happen. It doesn''t matter if they were soldiers in the past, their experience is useless in the case of a sneak attack. He now has 6 gangsters under his command and he felt a bit short of people so he picked up the phone and called his friend: "Beckman, are you interested in making a quick money?" "What kind of job are we going to do?" "I may have discovered the group of robbers who robbed the casino. i reported it to Boss Dani, and the boss said that I would be fully responsible, If you work with me, we will split the money equally." What Cranston wants most is the appreciation of Boss Dani so that he can be responsible for the casino. If he really gets the money, he didn''t mind giving out half of it to Beckman. When Beckman heard this, he immediately became interested. If they were really those robbers, they must have a large amount of cash in their hands. "Count me in!" Beckman said immediately. "Then get ready and bring your people. Let''s take action tonight. Tonight is Christmas Eve. Let''s also give it a name and call it ''Operation Christmas Eve.''" Cranston said this with some pride. Time flies at night. On Christmas Eve, the streets were brightly lit and bustling with people, including people shopping and children playing. Two trucks drove through the streets to a remote downtown area. This is a factory area with relatively few people living there, so even though it''s Christmas, it still seems deserted. Two trucks were parked in front of the factory. "When we go in later If anyone resists, shoot immediately, but at least leave one or two people alive." Cranston ordered. His subordinates nodded. A nimble guy jumped over the wall and quietly opened the door, and a group of people rushed into the factory. Chapter 38 Gun Fight There is a grill in the lobby on the first floor of the factory. The barbecue on it is squeaking. Leo cuts off a piece with a knife, puts it into his mouth, and took another big gulp of beer. A Christmas party was playing on the TV. A graceful singer was singing. Henry, Matthew, Leo, and Kerry watched with great interest. It''s Christmas today. Sean and Ryder went home to spend the holidays with their families. Neil went to the hospital to be with his wife. Richard''s eyes had become inflamed in the past few days, and he was admitted to the Murphy Clinic. Dr. Murphy''s advice to him was to wait until spring for an operation to solve the previous wound problem, and then he could install a prosthetic eye. There are only four of them left to spend Christmas together. Matthew picked up the dagger to cut the flesh. He suddenly stopped in the middle of cutting and looked up at the others. "No, there is movement at the door." The four of them were all people who had survived in the battler fields, and they never dared to be careless about danger. Several people looked at each other and immediately reached a tacit understanding. Henry and Matthew drew their pistols from their bodies and hid in the factory, while Leo and Kerry hurried upstairs. "Bang~!" The door was kicked open. A group of guys with guns rushed into the factory aggressively. When they came in, they saw the grill in the middle. The barbecue on it was still smelling fragrant, and there were a few bottles of beer next to it. "They haven''t run far, find them!" Cranston said. His men spread out to search. Some were walking inside, while others were going up the stairs. The two guys had just taken a few steps when suddenly gunfire rang out. "Bang bang bang bang~!" A dense number of bullets were fired from the shadows. The two boys at the front were shot and fell to the ground immediately. The others were so frightened that they quickly fell down, and those who were going upstairs also quickly came down, preparing to attack the enemies hiding in the dark. But at this moment, two black muzzles stuck out from upstairs. "Da da da da da da~!" The Chicago Typewriter fired wildly at the crowd downstairs, knocking the Spanish gangsters off their feet. They never expected that they would be in such great danger when they raided to arrest a few Austrian gangsters. Someone hid in the corner and fought back. But he was discovered as soon as he fired two shots, and he was immediately greeted by a hail of machine gun bullets. Cranston hid in the corner and regretted coming here. What kind of group of guys were these? He knew that they had been soldiers, but he didn''t expect them to be so strong. Why do I want to investigate the casino robbery? didn''t i have a good life, so why did I have to provoke these guys? The other leader he found, Beckman, died. He was shot several times in the beginning. Many of his brothers were dead, and almost none of them could move now. What meritorious service? What is valued by the boss? What casino management rights, money, luxury cars and beautiful women? now all this temptations no longer matters to him, He just wants to survive. Cranston turned around and ran, but as soon as he took few steps, a bullet hit him. Cranston felt his thighs tremble, and he fell to the ground. "Ah, my legs!" "Leo, Kerry, you cover, Matthew, and I will clean the battlefield." Henry shouted. "Understood." Putting on new magazines, Henry and Matthew came out of the shadows. Bodies were lying everywhere on the floor in the factory. They were outnumbered so they fought to fiercely just now. Almost all of these guys were hit by dozen of bullets. Cranston collapsed in the doorway, still wailing. Matthew raised his gun and wanted to kill him, but Henry stopped him. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. "Leave him alive and ask what''s going on." Matthew immediately shouted to the door, "If you don''t want to die, throw away the gun in your hand." "Okay, I''ll throw it away, don''t kill me." Cranston shouted immediately. Throwing the gun aside, he lay on the ground and raised his hands high. Matthew and Henry went over, tied up Cranston, and carried the guy to the middle of the factory. The four Henrys looked at the guy lying on the ground, wondering why he attacked them. "Who are you?" "We are from the Spanish gang." Cranston gritted his teeth and endured the pain, as he said. The four of them were slightly stunned. "Spanish gang, why do you come to us late at night, and what do you want to do?" Henry asked in a deep voice. Cranston was a little afraid to say. He was afraid that if he told them, they would kill him directly, but he didn''t know what lie to tell, so he hesitated for a while. Matthew''s face turned cold. He took a step forward, stretched out a finger, and thrust it directly into the hole in Cranston''s thigh. "Ah~~~" Cranston suddenly let out a shrill scream. "Tell me, why are you here?" "I will talk, i will talk...our casino was robbed. Boss Dani was very angry and asked us to investigate who did it. If we find out, we will get a huge bonus. A street thief said to me, After Bill was injured, the Austrian gang changed its leader and recruited a new group of people, so I suspected that it was you who did it. After I reported it to Boss Dani, Boss Dani asked me to investigate whether you are the casino robbers." Cranston explained everything clearly in a very fast tone. "Just suspicion?" Henry asked. "Yeah, just suspicion." Cranston said it quickly. Leo looked at Henry and asked, "Everyone else is dead, what to do with this guy?" "I think we can just kill him," Matthew said. Henry thought for a moment and shook his head. "Maybe the boss has something else to ask, so we can''t kill him for the time being." The others nodded after hearing this. "Notify the boss now?" Matthew asked. "It''s so late, the boss must be celebrating Christmas with a woman in his arms, if we disturbs his mood, he will get angry. If you want to inform him do it yourself." Henry said. Matthew pouted. He didn''t want to be the one interrupting the boss, either. "Let''s tidy up this place and notify the boss tomorrow." They are in the lower city area, and most of surrounding building are abandoned factories. this area is sparsely populated. No one may have heard the gunfire just now, and even if they did, no one would foolishly call the police. The four people took action and drove the two trucks parked outside the door into the courtyard. There were more than a dozen corpses lying in the factory building, and they were all moved to the vehicles. They didn''t feel anything about these corpses. They had seen too many corpses on the battlefield. Sometimes, in a battle, the corpses in front of the trenches could pile up into mountains. Matthew found a thicker rope and tied Cranston tightly to prevent him from running away. Kerry looked at the bullet hole in Cranston''s leg. Blood was still pouring out. "He is bleeding, if we leave him like this, he may die tomorrow. How about giving him some medicine?" "What medicine could I give him? just do it the old way." Matthew said, picking up a dagger and inserting it into the oven. After a while, it turned slightly red. Cranston realized something, and his body trembled and twisted in fear. "No, no, no~~" Matthew didn''t care about this guy. He stepped on him with one foot to prevent him from moving and pressed the red hot dagger hard on the thigh wound. Stab~! "Ah~~~~~~~!" Cranston howled miserably. The wound was ironed out and stopped bleeding. Matthew picked up the guy and threw him in the corner. Regret! Cranston only felt regret at this moment. Why did he want to take credit? Why don''t he just stay at home? His men are all dead and he still doesn''t know if he will survive. ... The next morning. Hardy woke up from the woman''s arms. After getting dressed and washing up, he said goodbye to the woman. As soon as he came downstairs, he saw Henry standing by his car smoking, which made him a little surprised. "Henry, why are you here?" "Something happened last night. I wanted to report to you early, so I came here." "Have you been waiting for a long time?" "Just two cigarettes." "What happened?" "The Spanish gang is suspicious of our recent activities, they sent people to investigate us, but the leader was a brainless guy and rushed in directly, planning to arrest people for interrogation, but a few of us took care of it, we killed 11 of his men and captured him alive." Henry said. Hardy was slightly startled. He didn''t expect such a big thing to happen at night, but fortunately Henry and the others handled it well. They drove back to the factory in Grant District, looked at the bodies on the two trucks, and came to the only survivor. "What''s your name?" Hardy asked calmly. "My name is Cranston." Cranston said it in a dry voice. "What is your position in the Spanish gang?" "A Leader." Though the levels in European and American gangs are not as complicated as shown in the movies, they do in fact have their own organizational divisions. Gang leaders are generally called bosses. Below them are the second boss, strategist, economic advisor, and staff officer, and then the leaders, who are considered the elite and backbone of the gang. Hardy is now considered one of the leaders of the Austrian gang. The leader maintains a group of followers, and the number of followers varies. It mainly depends on whether the leader can support them. If he can afford it, no one will care about how many follower he have, even if he recruit a hundred followers. "Tell me everything you know about Spanish gangs." Hardy said calmly. "Ask whatever you want to know, I won''t dare hide anything." Cranston said it with a grimace. Hardy then asked him everything he wanted to know about the Spanish gang. Through Cranston''s narration, Hardy had a more comprehensive understanding of the Spanish Gang. Finally asked: "I heard that the Spanish gang is preparing to conduct drug transactions recently. Do you know the situation?" Hardy asked. Cranston immediately shook his head. "I don''t know, I haven''t heard of it." "Where do the Spanish gangs usually buy their drugs?" "We buy them from the Colombians. I heard he was some kind of general, he is quite mysterious. It was once when I went to pick up goods at the dock, I overheard the title "General" spoken by Advisor Burstein". "Dock, do they transport goods by water?" Hardy asked. "Yes, the Colombians came over on ocean going cargo ships, transported the drugs offshore, then sent them to the port by speedboat, and then took another returning cargo ship back." "Which pier?" "A small one outside the Santa Monica Port Private Port, by the way, I remembered something. When I reported your affairs to Boss Dani, I vaguely heard Boss Dani and the gang advisor mentioning something about the port and the deployment of manpower." Hardy was moved. It was probably the new drug deal that Dani was planing. Since manpower has been deployed, it seems that the trading time will be within these few days. Hardy felt like a big deal was beckoning. Chapter 39 A Deadly Deal at the Pier On a cliff in the wilderness outside Los Angeles. Two trucks were parked on the edge of the cliff, there were more than a dozen corpses in the trucks, and Cranston corps was on top. Neil put two large firecrackers into the Trucks, and another truck reversed, pushing the two trucks over the cliff. The Trucks rolled down the cliff, and not long after it hit the bottom, it exploded and burned. As for whether the Spanish gang will find out that Cranston was killed, it is estimated that it will take some time. Cranston said that the boss just asked him to investigate, and he came directly to the door because of his own arrogance. No one in the gang knew about their operations. . Everyone returned to the factory gathering place, including Sean Neil and others. Hardy looked at the factory and said, "We have to find a new place. This place has been targeted. We must be more careful in our actions in the future." Henry and others nodded. Everyone moved quickly to clean up the blood stains in the factory, moved their belongings, and found a place on the edge of Los Angeles in the afternoon. It was a country hotel with a living room, bedrooms, and a large yard for parking. Very suitable for a new residence. The next day. Hardy led a group of men to the dock. Cranston said to explore the terrain here. The wharf is not big, It is a fishing port wharf. Only dozens of tons of fishing boats and shrimp boats can enter and exit. It is a private wharf. When they came to observe, there were many fishing boats parked at the wharf, and there were people carrying fish to trucks. Richard saw a three story building next to him, told Hardy, and secretly ran to the top of the building to check it out. This location is the commanding height of the entire pier, overlooking all directions, and is definitely an excellent sniping point. Everyone returned to the hotel and sat in the living room to study countermeasures. "Boss, if they are trading during the day, we can pretend to be buying fish and get two trucks to keep an eye on them every day." "If it is night, we can lay an ambush in advance and catch them off guard when they are trading." Hardy thought for a moment. then started to assigning tasks for everyone. Starting the next day, six guys Henry, Matthew, Leo, Kerry, Richard, and Neil became fishmongers and drove two trucks over to buy fish. During this period, Richard secretly went upstairs several times and quietly placed two large packages in a hidden place on the roof. Whether this is a trading place or not, they are only half sure now, but if it succeeds, they will get enough rewards, so Hardy is fully prepared. The rest is left to luck. Two days later, the sun was already setting in the west this afternoon, the fishing boats had basically docked, and only a few people were still trading on the pier. Suddenly, two cars drove up in the distance. Several men in suits got out of the car and walked into the fish market. They seemed to be choosing fish, but their eyes were always looking around. It didn''t take long for these people to get in the car and leave without buying a single fish. Henry, who was wearing work clothes, rubber shoes, and gloves, looked up at Matthew next to him and whispered, "I feel like these guys are from the Spanish gang." "I feel the same." The news soon spread to Hardy. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Hardy knew the deal could be tonight. He Immediately summoned everyone to give orders. "Brothers, get ready to work." Upon hearing that they were about to work, these guys became excited one by one and began to prepare their own firearms. late at night. Eleven o''clock. The pier was pitch black with no light, and the sea in the distance looked like a monster ready to devour people, which made people feel frightened and timid. Four cars drove into the pier on the gravel road. Parked side by side at the pier, a dozen people got off first and looked around. It was pitch black, and nothing could be seen. After some time, the four cars turned on their lights facing the sea. A flash. Two flashes. It flashed four times in total. After dozens of seconds, a light appeared on the sea in the distance and flashed four times towards the dock. After a while, a fishing boat of more than ten tons came from the sea and stopped slowly at the dock. The Spanish gang had been waiting on the shore for a long time. The leader was the gang advisor Burstein. A man emerged from the fishing boat, stepped on the boat bang, and jumped ashore. Burgstein stepped forward with a smile, shook hands with the other person cordially, and said in Spanish "Garcia, we meet again." "Hello Burstein, Did you bring the money?" "Of course." He waved to the back, and one of his men brought a suitcase. Burstein opened the suitcase, and under the car lights, the things stacked in the suitcase could be seen clearly it was a neat stack of dollar bills. "$300,000, every penny is here" Burstein said. "That''s good, I''ll let them move the goods now." Garcia waved behind him, and several men with slightly darker skin came out of the boat and landed ashore carrying packages one by one. Not long after, all the goods were moved onto the dock, which was half a person tall and almost one cubic meter. "This is what you want a total of 500 kilograms. What you asked for this time is really a lot. It has been in production for almost three months. It seems that your business is doing well" Garcia said. "It''s okay," Burstein said with a smile. Then he asked a young man to come forward to inspect the goods. Burstein took out two cigars and handed one to the Colombian. "Crack~!" He lit the silver lighter in his hand and handed it to Garcia. Garcia lowered his head and lit a cigarette. But at this moment, there was a clear gunshot. "Bang~!" The next moment, there was a bloody hole in the Colombian leader''s head, and he fell to the ground with a splash, Blood splashed on Burstein''s face, leaving him stunned for a second or two. "They killed Garcia!" Other Colombians screamed. Several people quickly rushed out of the cabin, all holding sub machine guns in their hands. ??They should have been hiding in the cabin to be on guard. After all, everyone should be careful about this kind of transaction. "Tu tu tu tu tu tu tu~!" The Colombians opened fire on the shore, shooting at the Spanish gang members wildly. The follower of Burstein was so frightened that he dragged his boss down, which saved him from being shot to death on the spot. After being attacked by Colombians, The Spanish gangsters also drew their guns and fought back. Several Colombians who had gone ashore with Garcia to trade were instantly killed by The Spanish gangsters. A chaotic fight broke out between the two sides. Burgstein finally came to his senses and knew there must be a misunderstanding. He shouted in Spanish "Stop, stop everyone; there is a misunderstanding here." But before Burstein could finish his words, a bullet flew from a distance and hit Burstein''s head. There was a bloody hole in the air instantly. Burstein''s eyes widened, and he fell down in disbelief. When the Spanish gang saw that their gang advisor had been killed, their firepower became more intense, and they fired wildly at the Colombians on the ship. But they were not prepared to fight when they came. They only had light guns in their hands, and they were suppressed by the Colombians armed with sub machine guns guns. at this time. A group of people rushed out from behind them. The Spanish gangsters were stunned, wondering if this was one of their own, but before they could react, the sub machine guns in the hands of these men opened fire on them. "Da da da, da da da~!" The few remaining Spanish gangsters were killed by this group of people in just one encounter. These people did not stop there. After killing the Spanish, they turned their guns on the Colombians. The Chicago Typewriter opened fire wildly at the fishing boat. The powerful firepower prevented the people on the boat from fighting back. Kerry was nearly two meters tall, and he was holding an M42 heavy machine gun in his hand. The long bullet chain was dragging on the ground, and he was firing wildly at the fishing boat. The flames from the gun''s muzzle shot out more than half a meter away. Neil took out the grenade and threw it at the fishing boat from a distance. "Boom~!" The grenade was accurately thrown into the cabin and exploded, and the gunfire coming from the cabin stopped immediately. The Colombian who was driving the boat saw that they couldn''t defeat the opponent at all, so he immediately drove away and fled. Henry, Matthew, and others wanted to pursue them, but Hardy stopped them. "There''s no need to chase, just let them run away. It won''t affect us. Let''s move the goods quickly." Upon hearing this, several people immediately ran to the Spanish gang and found the money box in a car, which contained neat banknotes. "Boss, I found the money!" Henry shouted excitedly. "What to do with the coke powder? Throw it into the sea." Leo asked. Hardy thought for a while. Though he did not sell drugs and was opposed to drug trafficking, these were all money. Although it cost only $300,000 to buy from Colombians, the price could be four to five times higher in the market. "Put them all in the car and take them back. We''ll talk about how to deal with it later." Chapter 40 Desperate Days of the Spanish Gang Henry and the others worked hard to load all the coke powder into the car, loaded it up and left quickly, and the dock turned dark and quiet again. There is only the non stop sound of the waves. Returning to the new station. In the living room, a group of people looked excitedly at the suitcase placed on the coffee table. The lid of the suitcase was opened, and inside was a stack of brand new hundred dollar bills. "Boss, I''ve counted it, it''s 300,000$ in total." Sean reported excitedly. Everyone else looked excited, this time they could get a large sum of money. Hardy didn''t wait any longer and ordered the money to be divided. "Take out 90,000 and hand it over to the gang." Sean immediately counted out 90,000$ and put it aside. According to the agreement between him and Siegel, it was divided into 3-7. 90,000 $ of the money would be given to Siegel. Sean and Henry didn''t know about Hardy and Siegel''s private decision. Hardy didn''t think it was necessary to tell them everything. It was actually simpler and happier to focus on working hard to make money instead of complicated things. "215,005$ and 5 cents, you can each share 13,000, Sean count the money." Hardy said. Not long after, each of them had a thick wad of money in their hands. The rest goes to Hardy. A total of one hundred and five thousand. "Boss, what do you want to do with that batch of coke powder?" Henry asked. The quantity of this batch of coke powder is quite large. They just counted it. There are 500 packages of one kilogram each, which means that the coke powder totals 500 kilograms. Hardy did a quick mental calculation. Five hundred kilograms 300,000$. 0.6 USD per gram. However, for those drug addicts, one gram can often be sold for 4 or 5 dollars, and even more expensive when the drugs are in short supply. Of course, there are also layers of profit sharing. But this also shows its huge profits. Destroy it? That would be a pity. Sell? Hardy didn''t want to get involved in the drug business. "Find a hidden place to hide it first, maybe it will be useful later." Hardy said. ... Dani was sitting in the office with a cigar in his mouth and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already half past one in the morning. He frowned. Transactions usually only take half an hour, so why hasn''t Burstein come back yet? Did something happen? He couldn''t sit still. "John, Walter, take people to the dock to see why Burstein hasn''t come back yet." Dani said to his two bodyguards. "yes, boss." The two bodyguards drove to the dock. They were shocked by the scene they saw. The dock was full of corpses and blood. All members of the Spanish gang fell to the ground, including the gang advisor Burstein. There were also several men with slightly darker skin, who they guessed were Colombians. "Notify the boss quickly." The two drove back quickly and hurried into the office. John panted and said: "Boss, it''s bad, the gang advisor Burstein is dead, and all the people who went with him to trade are also dead." Dani stood up in an instant. What he worried about most happened. "What happened?!" Dani asked loudly. "We only saw corpses on the pier and the gang advisor Burstein was among them, and there seemed to be a few Colombians corpses as well." "Where are the goods and the money?" "We didn''t see it." "Was there a ship on the pier?" "No. " Dani took a group of his men and rushed to the dock. At the dock, he saw the situation reported by his two bodyguards. Burstein is dead and dozen of his men who came with him to trade died. Three hundred thousand dollars was missing. The ordered of coke powder was also missing. Could it be the Colombians who did it? But they have been doing business with the Colombians for several years, and nothing like this has ever happened. Why on earth would they do it this time? "What''s going on? What happened!" Dani roared angrily. But the only answer to him was the cold wind at night and the sound of the waves. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. After a long while, Dani calmed down and ordered his men: "Clean the pier immediately. If others find the bodies of our men, the police may cause trouble for us." His men immediately moved and threw the bodies into the truck. Including the bodies of those Colombians. There was still a large amount of blood on the ground, They tried their best to cover it up. It was almost dawn and the fishermen were coming, so Dani and his men left quickly. Back in the office. Dani couldn''t calm down. No matter what the reason was, the loss this time was too great. Burstein, his most effective subordinate, was dead. He was his right hand man and he was responsible for most of the gang''s business. And his own 300,000$. After the casino was robbed, the Spanish gang suffered a lot of losses. He originally wanted to make more money from coke powder to recover his losses. After trying hard to scrape together 300,000$ in cash. It was robbed again. The money is gone, and the goods are gone. The next drug business will not be possible either. When he thought of those Colombians who died. Dani''s head start to hurt, even this line of purchasing goods will probably be cut off. fack! fack! Dani became more and more angry as he thought about it, and roared in the office. With a forceful sweep across the desk, all the lamps and coffee cups on the desk were swept to the ground and shattered into pieces. "John, gather everyone and go find out for me what happened." John nodded quickly in response. After the two bodyguards went out, Dani stood in front of the window, holding a cigar and thinking about who did it. Could it be General Gustavo who made the deal with him? But why? Short of money? But there is no need to use such extreme means. He is the only drug dealer in Los Angeles who buy Colombian good their trade is a business that continues to make money for a long time. Could it be that something went wrong in Colombia? Another group of people knew the trading route, followed it, and robbed Burstein and the others at the dock. It was possible. Dani wanted to send a telegram to General Gustavo to confirm the matter. But he was worried. If the telegram is intercepted by the FBI, it won''t be long before trouble comes to his door. Oh shit. What to do now, Dani, a veteran who has been running a gang for decades, had no idea of what to do. Dani was tired and had a headache after not sleeping all night, but he had no intention of sleeping. Smoking one cigarette after another, just one night made him feel quite haggard. It was already dawn and a new day had begun. "Ring ring ring~!" The phone suddenly rang. Dani thought it was John and the others who had found somethings, so he quickly picked it up and put it to his ears, but the person who called was not John, but a leader in charge of the brokerage business. "Boss, I have something to report to you. The manager of one of our modeling companies, named Sanders, suddenly disappeared. He has not been seen for the past 3 days. I investigated and found that he sold some models before disappearing and got more than 10,000$, I suspect that guy may have fled with the money." Dani didn''t know Sanders. He had so many people under him, how could he remember the name of a little guy. Dani''s head hurt even more when he heard someone taking money and running away. There''s nothing good these days, it''s all bad news. At this moment, Dani was extremely irritable and yelled into the phone: "Send someone to find that bastard, get the money back, and then bury him alive!" After that, he hung up the phone. Huhuhu~~! Dani gasped for air. Damn, everything is going wrong. He didn''t know that Sanders had already been buried alive. It wasn''t until the afternoon that John came back from outside. He lowered his head and reported: "I''m sorry, boss, we checked carefully and found no clues. We didn''t find any Colombians. We couldn''t find out what happened." Dani clenched his fists hard. "Check, keep checking, I don''t believe there are no clues at all!" Dani shouted. John quickly agreed and ran out again. Dani slumped into his chair. Without Burstein, what will happen to the gang business in the future? It is not so easy to train a qualified gang advisor. The drug deal fails, the money is gone and the goods are gone. What will happen to the drug business in the future? The casino is also closed now. The remaining businesses of the Spanish Gang are a few bars, underground boxing rings, and loan shark companies, but these can''t even make a 100.000$ a year. This is not even enough to cover the gang''s expenses. Chapter 41 Planing To Establish A Gang Five days later, Dani''s subordinate reported to him that a Colombian man wanted to see him. Dani thought to himself that the Colombian had finally came over, and he must find out what is going on. "Quick, bring him in," he said. The man stood before Dani with a grim expression and said, "General Gustavo has a message for you." "What message?" asked Dani. "You stole our goods, killed our people, and we will not let this go unpunished." Dani was shocked and exclaimed, "How could you accuse me of stealing your goods? It was clearly your people who attacked us. The gang advisor I sent for the deal was killed, all my men were killed, and the $300,000 I brought was stolen. I suspect it was you who did it." "I don''t know about that. The general only instructed me to inform you to pay 500,000$. And this matter will be over. If you disagree, the general will send his men, and Mr. Dani, you should prepare to face our retaliation." Dani was furious. Damn it, why is everything being blamed on me? Now Dani really wanted to talk face to face with General Gustavo and clear up the whole situation. Unfortunately, it is 1946 and there is no direct international long flight to Colombia. Ignore them? General Gustavo was a powerful figure in the Colombian military, commanding thousands of troops. If he really sent someone to kill him, his own men would surely not be able to resist. But they demanded $500,000, where could he get that kind of money now? And this time, he was the victim. Dani felt extremely frustrated. Suppressing his anger, Dani said to the Colombian man, "Please tell General Gustavo that there has been a misunderstanding. At an appropriate time, I will go to Colombia to explain to him face to face. Our business must continue, and many things can be negotiated." Dani slumped onto the sofa. Reaching for a cigar, the cigar trembled in his hand. "Damn it!" Meanwhile, Hardy was sitting on a plane headed for Las Vegas. He was going to see Sigel and deliver the proceeds from the robbery. He also wanted to chat with Sigel about some things. During these days, Hardy had been thinking and had chosen the path of the underworld. If he wanted to expand and grow, he needed his own territory and some steady income to support more men. Relying solely on robbery wouldn''t work. In present Los Angeles. The Irish gangs mainly concentrated in the old town area. The Austrian gang was in the more developed new town area. The Spanish were near Hollywood. As for other small gangs, they were irrelevant. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. During these days, Hardy had been contemplating that if he wanted to have a greater influence, he needed a suitable territory. The Irish territory was not ideal, and the Irish were strong and difficult to deal with. Become the boss of the Austrian gang. There''s always rank and hierarchy everywhere, and the Austrian gang was under the control of the Mafia, involving too much. He thought it would be very difficult to become the boss. Hardy''s gaze fell on the Spanish gang. Although the Spanish gang''s territory was small, its geographical location was good, controlling the Hollywood area. The future development would only get better. If he eliminated the Spanish gang, took over their territory, and established his own sphere of influence, his power would increase significantly, and there wouldn''t be much internal conflict with the Austrian gang. Next, It depended on Sigel''s thoughts. ... "Everyone, we''re about to land. Don''t forget to fasten your seat belts " the pilot shouted loudly to the dozen or so passengers behind him. The plane was small, carrying only eighteen or nineteen passengers. It was very bumpy in the sky, and the noise from the propellers was extremely loud. This kind of flying experience could only be described as awful. But this is currently the fastest way to travel. From Los Angeles to Las Vegas, there is about 480 kilometers, which would take about half a day by car. Hardy checked his seat belt. He didn''t want to be thrown out by the violent pilot. Bang! Bang, bang! After a violent shaking and clanging noise, the plane finally stopped. Hardy grabbed his suitcase and stepped off the plane. A young man in a suit approached him. "Are you Mr. John Hardy?" "Yes, I am." "Mr. Sigel sent me to pick you up. The car is over there." Hardy looked at the young man. His memory was exceptionally good now, and he vaguely remembered seeing this young man among the security personnel when he went to Sigel''s house. The two got into the car and drove towards downtown Las Vegas. Hardy looked out the window. The surroundings were all dusty gray rocks with a few dry patches of yellow grass, desolate everywhere. After a short time, the car entered the city. Hardy had been to Las Vegas in his previous life, the gambling city of the 21st century, brilliant with lights and full of skyscrapers, bustling and extravagant. Now, in Hardy''s eyes, Las Vegas couldn''t even be called a city at most it was a small town with buildings mainly concentrated on either side of the highway. In 1829, a group of Mexican traders discovered the water rich Las Vegas Valley and named it "Las Vegas," which means "the meadows" in Spanish. Decades later, the discovery of gold in Nevada attracted many people, turning Las Vegas into a small town. In 1905, when the railway was completed, Las Vegas emerged as a crucial junction. It was upgraded to a city with a population of over 3,000 at the time. During the Great Depression in the U.S., Nevada legalized gambling, and a few years later, the Hoover Dam was completed, providing ample electricity to the area. Soon after, highways linking to Los Angeles were established, which spurred rapid development in Las Vegas. This rapid development primarily revolved around attracting visitors for gambling. Presently, the local population is slightly over twenty thousand, with annual visitors not exceeding fifty thousand, as Siegel informed Hardy. Siegel''s vision was to build the most luxurious casino in America here, drawing in 100,000 visitors annually. Although, in Hardy''s eyes, this place was not comparable to later towns, he recognized its astonishing growth. Sixty years later, the population reached 550,000, with peak visitor numbers exceeding 40.8 million. Despite the gold being gone, Hardy saw this place as an abundant reservoir of wealth a seemingly inexhaustible source of gold. Currently, there is only one main road, Las Vegas Boulevard, lined mostly with two- or three-story buildings, some small casinos, and entertainment venues, with vast areas of vacant land behind them. Hardy saw these lands as future towering buildings, presenting immense potential for value appreciation. If one had the funds, buying land here and doing nothing would likely yield substantial profits when others rushed in to invest in Siegel''s successful casino venture. But that urgency would have to wait. The value of Las Vegas land was expected to increase only after Siegel''s casino succeeded, drawing everyone in for the substantial profits. The car stopped in front of a vast construction site. The driver said to Hardy, "Mr. Hardy, Mr. Siegel is at the construction site. I''ll take you inside to find him." Hardy followed the driver inside and spotted Siegel in an open space. A large parasol shaded Siegel''s head, with a round table and a few chairs beneath it. Siegel stood with his hands behind his back, gazing into the distance. "Mr. Siegel," Hardy called out as he approached. Siegel turned to Hardy, a smile on his face, and said, "Hardy, take a look around. We''re making History here. This will be home to the most perfect casino in America, perhaps even the world." Hardy followed Siegel''s gaze toward a wilderness of construction materials piled on empty ground, where several bulldozers were diligently clearing away dirt, enveloping the site in a cloud of dust. Chapter 42 Discussion With Siegler Siegler wanted Hardy to see his casino, but right now it was just a big construction site, and nothing could be seen. "Haha, come take a look at my plans." With that, he pulled out a large plan from under the table, opening it up to about half a square meter, painted with colors, much like the effect diagrams of later years. There was a name on the blueprint. "Flamingo Casino." Hardy thought to himself, the name was exactly the same as in later years. Siegler pointed to the blueprint and enthusiastically introduced it to Hardy. Few people came here, and Siegler had many ideas during construction, so he treated Hardy as a confidant. "There will be a huge neon pillar built here, about 30 meters high. I want everyone coming to Las Vegas to see the Flamingo''s sign and be attracted here." "The entrance will be a wide corridor, with palm trees planted on both sides. I want those tall palm trees. I''ve already reserved 300 of them at a high price from the plant company. When people come here in the future, they won''t just feel the heat and dryness. I want tourists to feel the refreshing oasis here. Everyone who comes here should feel like they''re entering a palace." "A small river will bring water here, supplying all the water needed for the casino." Parking lots, shops, tennis courts, sunbathing centers, cinemas, and other facilities. Almost everything one can think of is here. Even though Hardy came from a later era, he admired Siegler''s ideas. If completed according to his vision, this place would truly become a leisure paradise combining gambling and entertainment. "Mr. Siegler, how much money do you estimate you''ll need if everything is built according to your design?" Hardy asked. "I don''t know. I''ve already raised 4 million, but I''m afraid it won''t be enough." Then Siegler smiled lightly, unconcerned. "Don''t worry, once the construction is underway and investors see the results, I believe they''ll add more investment." He remembered in the movie how Siegler ultimately failed, He spent too much money, but couldn''t attract enough customers, and the casino closed down and he was killed. Hardy knew for a fact that the partners Siegler found were all big gangsters. But Hardy was also puzzled. Even if Siegler''s investment failed, the casino would still be here, so why kill Siegler? Siegler was a memeber of the mafia community. Maybe there are other unknown reasons. Hardy looked at the blueprint and wanted to advise Siegler to simplify things and open the casino as soon as possible to avoid trouble later. But the words stuck in his throat. Whether in the movie or now in contact with Siegler, he knew Siegler was a very arrogant person. Once he set his mind on something, it was extremely difficult to change, and he was also a perfectionist. Now he had great enthusiasm for the Flamingo Casino, and his own advice would be ineffective. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Moreover, his current identity was just one of Siegler''s henchmen, not enough to give suggestions to the boss. After talking about the casino construction, Siegler was in a very good mood, like a child showing off his beloved toy to others, feeling satisfied in his heart. "Hardy, what brings you here this time?" Siegler asked. Over the phone, Hardy didn''t explain the purpose of his visit to Siegler, mainly to avoid leaking information, only saying that he had important matters to discuss. Hardy placed the briefcase on the table, gently unfastening the clasp, revealing the banknotes inside. "Mr. Siegler, this is $90,000. A few days ago, I completed a deal, and this is the portion to be turned over." Siegler calculated in his mind. They agreed on a 70/30 split, so turning in 90,000 meant Hardy made 300,000. This was definitely a big deal. "Oh, tell me about this deal?" Siegler became interested. Hardy had no reason to hide from Siegler and told him everything about the matter. His underlings got information that the Spanish gang was preparing to expand their drug trade, and they ambushed the Spanish gang''s base, counter killing to obtain accurate information, meticulously planned ambushes for several nights, and seized this $300,000 in cash. Hardy did not mention the 500 kilograms of drugs. Siegler looked at Hardy with admiration, patting Hardy''s shoulder heavily. "Well done, Hardy. What you did exceeded my expectations." Hardy was silent for a moment, as if gathering courage, he said to Siegler, "Mr. Siegler, I have an idea. Robbery is not a long term solution. To earn money properly, it''s best to have a stable and profitable business." "What are you thinking?" Siegler asked. "I want to take over the Spanish gang''s territory. With that territory, I estimate we can earn $1 million or even more annually." Siegler looked at Hardy seriously, then suddenly burst into laughter. "Hardy, I like young people with ideas and motivation. "Do you know why I chose you in the first place? Because I see in you the determination to take risks, something that Fred lacks." "Back then, I handed the territory to him. He managed it for seven or eight years, but the territory remained the same, with no development. The Irish and Spanish continued doing business as usual in their territories." "If we wipe out the Irish and Spanish completely, we''ll completely unify the underground world of Los Angeles." "Hardy, I support you!" "If you can eliminate the Spanish gang, I agree to let you form your own gang. You can be the boss, equal to Fred." This was the main purpose of Hardy''s visit to Las Vegas this time. Originally, he had prepared many arguments, but he didn''t expect that he only mentioned it briefly and Siegler agreed, and even agreed to let him form a gang. This result far exceeded Hardy''s expectations. Siegler leaned forward, lowering his voice: "After you form the gang, all income won''t be recorded in the Austrian gang''s accounts. I want 40% of the total income directly handed over to me." Although Siegler controlled the entire Austrian gang, his annual income from the gang was only about 10% of the total gang income. When building Las Vegas, Siegler could only come up with $1 million. If Hardy really controlled the Spanish gang''s territory and earned more than a million dollars annually, Siegler''s share would far exceed his income from the Austrian gang. "Okay, Mr. Siegler." Hardy responded decisively. Hahaha~~! Siegler stood up laughing. He was in a very good mood now. Raising a good subordinate today might yield rich results tomorrow. "This is your first time in Las Vegas, so enjoy yourself for a couple of days, experience the scenery and wonders of Las Vegas. I believe you''ll fall in love with it here," Siegler said with a smile. In the evening, Siegler took Hardy to a restaurant and met the woman who captivated Siegler heart, Virginia Hill. This woman was beautiful and dazzling, dressed in a perfect evening gown that showed off her figure, her face always carrying a faint hint of pride. Perhaps it was this unique aura about her that attracted the mafia boss Siegler. After dinner, Siegler took Hardy to a casino. "What do you usually like to play?" Siegler asked. "I''ve never been to a casino, oh, except for the last time with the Spanish gang," Hardy replied. Siegler shook his head with a smile, "You should experience more things. You''ll also be running a casino in the future, so how can you not know the rules of a casino?" "Have a good time tonight." After exchanging for five thousand chips, Siegler left with Virginia. As they walked out for a while, Virginia glanced back at Hardy and asked softly, "Who is this young man? It looks like you really like him?" "He''s one of my underlings, but I value him. I think his future is limitless." Virginia glanced at Hardy again as he exchanged chips. She knew Siegler was a very proud person who rarely praised his subordinates. She wondered what extraordinary qualities this young man possessed that made Siegler value him so much. Chapter 43 HD Security Company Hardy isn''t particularly interested in gambling. Every gambler believes they''ll be the lucky one, but in reality, the house is destined to win in the end. Gamblers believe in luck; the casino believes in mathematics. The casino doesn''t need to cheat; they can empty the gamblers'' pockets with mathematical formulas alone. The only rule for winning in gambling is not to gamble or perhaps having the ability to be the banker. In a previous life, Hardy visited Las Vegas with many curious friends who couldn''t resist trying their luck. Hardy resisted the temptation to join them at the tables and instead played a few rounds of slot machines for entertainment. After exchanging $2,000 for chips, Hardy sat next to Siegel. The game was simple. Hardy quickly grasped the rules after watching a few rounds of cards. Siegel and Virginia were excitedly playing, both enjoyed the process. However, after several rounds, they each lost over a thousand dollars, while the novice Hardy won quite a bit. Two hours later, Hardy unexpectedly won over three thousand dollars. Siegel looked at Hardy and chuckled, "It looks like you''ve got good luck. I''ve always believed that some people truly are lucky, and it seems you''re one of them." Afterward, the three switched to Texas Holdem Poker. Hardy''s luck continued to soar, after playing for two hours, he won several large hands, increasing his chips to over ten thousand dollars, while Siegel and Virginia lost all their chips. Hardy pushed all his chips toward the two. "Mr. Siegel, Miss Virginia, these are for you." "Oh, are you done playing?" "Yes, I need to rest and catch my flight back to Los Angeles tomorrow morning." "Not staying in Las Vegas for a few more days?" Siegel asked. Hardy smiled and said, "I''ve already experienced the wonders of Las Vegas." "Well, then, rest well." After Hardy left, Virginia remarked to Siegel, "He has impressive self control. Winning that much money and still being able to walk away so easily." Siegel said "Hardy is a very disciplined person. I remember he once said, ''Not all excellent people are disciplined, but disciplined people usually excel.''" Virginia gave Siegel a side glance and said "You''re an excellent person too, but I don''t see much discipline in you," . Siegel chuckled "Excellent people aren''t necessarily disciplined, whereas I am a genius." Siegel was one of the founders of the Mafia, the boss of a hit man group. He loved art and philosophy and had strong managerial abilities, in these respects, he truly was a genius. However, these genius attributes also bred pride and arrogance in him. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ... The next day, Hardy flew back to Los Angeles. Same plane, same pilot. This guy flew the plane aggressively just like last time, Hardy guessed he must have been a fighter pilot before. Back at the hotel, Hardy gathered his brothers. No one knew what was happening, all curious eyes were on Hardy. Hardy smiled, "Brothers, we have a development opportunity before us. Do you know whom I met in Las Vegas this time?" "Benjamin Siegel." "Bugy Siegel?" "Bugy sound very similar to bug, it''s not a good nickname. Siegel never liked it, and no one dared to call him that to his face." Henry, Matthew, and others were former soldiers and not very familiar with the mafia, but Sean had been in this circle for several years and naturally knew of Siegel''s reputation. "Sean, do you know this Siegel?" someone asked. Sean immediately explained, "I''ve heard legends about Siegel. He formed the Austrian gang. After he took over in Los Angeles, he made Fred the boss. Strictly speaking, Siegel is the real boss of the Austrian gang. I never expected the boss to meet Mr. Siegel." "He promised to support us in forming our own faction as long as we could grow and develop, even a establishing a new separate gang from the Austrian gang." Henry, Matthew, and the others became excited. If they could form their own gang, they would earn more money in the future and might even become faction leaders with some authority. Hardy continued, "But to grow and expand, we need our own territory." "Yes, we definitely need territory; we can''t keep squatting in hotels," someone said. Someone suggested, "Didn''t the boss take in Big Ivan before? We can also grab some small gang territories, like the Polish and French neighborhoods, link them together, and then we''ll have our own territory, slowly expanding." Hardy looked at everyone. "Brothers, if we''re going to do this, why not go big? I plan to take over the Spanish territory. What do you think?" Henry and the others were shocked. They thought the boss had a big appetite, directly targeting the third largest gang in Los Angeles. But it seemed...They had already robbed and killed the Spanish multiple times already. "The Spanish territory is mainly in Hollywood. Although it''s smaller than the Old Town and Downtown areas, there are many film companies and wealthy people here, making it a prime location," Leo said. "We''ve investigated the Spanish quite a bit recently, and they don''t seem as strong as they appear. We''ve taken out quite a few before; they probably have only a hundred or so men," Henry said. Matthew was more straightforward, "I think we should go for a decapitation operation. Didn''t we take out their adviser a few days ago? Let Richard handle it and eliminate Dani. The Spanish will surely be in chaos, and we can take over their territory smoothly." Everyone was excited. Not one had any worry or fear about going to war with the third largest gang in Los Angeles. These guys were elite survivors of the battlefield, with wills of steel developed from combat, unafraid of battle. "Boss, what''s your plan?" Leo asked. On the return flight, Hardy had already formulated a preliminary plan. "We won''t rush to deal with the Spanish yet. We need more manpower. Brothers, I have a task for you: contact our former comrades. We need more help." Hardy didn''t want to recruit from the gang, it was troublesome to train useless thugs. He wanted those who had fought on the battlefield, instantly capable of combat upon joining. The next day, Henry and Matthew were busy contacting former comrades. Hardy wasn''t idle, either. He went to government departments to register a company. "Sir, are you registering a security company?" a young officer asked, taking the registration documents. "Yes, ''HD Commercial Security Company. Our main business is providing security personnel for upscale properties, high end stores, and banks, as well as celebrity bodyguards, cash and jewelry escort services, and so on." On the return flight, Hardy thought about the future, recruiting many underlings required accommodations for them. He felt that the gang structure was too loose and thought of a security company. By assigning people to the security company, he could solve this problem. In the future, if anyone asked about their identity, they could openly tell family and friends that they worked at a security company. Their salaries could also be paid through the security company, legitimizing their income sources. Although they were currently operating in the underworld, Hardy knew that there was a ceiling to this path. Development to a certain extent would inevitably attract attention from relevant departments, possibly leading to crackdowns. Therefore, he had already planned to establish enterprises as legally as possible, facilitating future whitewashing. In the United States, as long as your company is legal and financially legitimate, no one can touch you. Chapter 44 The Bankers Dilemma After the company registration was completed, Hardy approached another real estate company. "I''m planning to purchase a farm or factory, preferably near Hollywood. It needs to be spacious. Do you have any good recommendations?" The security company needs a base for operations and personnel training, so the location can''t be too small. Hardy drove his luxury car, wearing a dazzling gold watch on his wrist. The salesperson recognized him as an important customer and treated him with exceptional respect. "A larger place? There''s a factory located in West Hollywood, though it''s a bit off. The area is quite spacious, with factory buildings, warehouses, and a dormitory building that can accommodate over a hundred workers. There''s also a large piece of unused land, totaling 18 acres." "What kind of factory is it?" Hardy asked. "It''s a factory that produces plastic dolls, but their dolls are too ugly to sell, resulting in a backlog of products. The owner originally planned to produce new dolls but couldn''t find raw materials due to wartime plastic restrictions. Unable to cope, the factory went bankrupt, and the bank took over. Now it''s up for sale for a total of $98,500." The price of $98,500 did seem quite high. Given the current land prices on the outskirts of Los Angeles, 18 acres of land are only worth a little over $30,000. The value lies in the factory building and equipment. But paying an extra $60,000 just to take these off their hands was unlikely. That''s why this factory has been on sale for so long without any takers. After giving it some thought, Hardy asked the salesperson, "Can you take me to see it in person?" "No problem at all," the salesperson quickly agreed. Riding in Hardy''s luxury car with a driver named Laid in the front, the salesperson smiled and said, "This factory has been hanging around for quite some time, and the bank is getting impatient. Mr. Hardy, if you''re serious about buying, I suggest negotiating with the bank. They might be willing to lower the price due to their financial pressures." "Los Angeles City Bank, the Non Performing Assets Division management" the salesperson added. This name rang a bell in Hardy''s mind. Looking at the salesperson, Hardy asked, "Aren''t you worried that if the price comes down, your commission will decrease?" The salesperson chuckled, "To be honest, listings from banks like these come with fixed commissions, unrelated to the price. So naturally, I hope Mr. Hardy can make the deal, that''s how I earn my money." Arriving at the toy factory, they were greeted by security guards employed by the bank to prevent anyone from secretly removing the machinery. In a low voice, the salesperson continued, "The bank has four people taking shifts here, each earning $35 a week. Just for wages, the bank spends $7,200 a year, which totals $14,400 over two years." The salesperson pointed out that the bank is losing money annually on this factory, providing a solid reason for negotiating a lower price. The factory indeed had a large area. The dormitory could comfortably house hundreds of people, and the spacious factory, covered machines, Hardy checked one and found it well maintained. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Standing in the yard, Hardy contemplated. Located in West Hollywood, it looks like a suburb now, but it will develop into a prosperous area in the future, potentially becoming an upscale community. Even without considering the factory equipment, holding onto this land for a few years could significantly increase its value. This could be registered as the security company''s headquarters, with the dormitory for new recruits to stay in, the yard for training, and the factory sealed for storage. Buying this wouldn''t be a loss. However, Hardy wasn''t going to spend over $90,000. He could certainly negotiate with the bank. Taking the information from the salesperson, Hardy returned to the hotel residence to find Henry and Matthew. "Do you guys remember that guy named Kevin Madeen?" Hardy asked. Henry couldn''t recall it at first. Matthew chuckled, "Haha, Henry, how could you forget? He''s your cousin, the one we knocked out and abducted at the Spanish casino, then took some goofy photos of." Henry remembered now. "What''s up, boss? Do you want us to recover that money?" He remembered asking him to prepare some money for a ransom over a month ago. "Not that. I recall you guys mentioned before that Kevin Madeen is the head of the Credit Department at Los Angeles City Bank." Hardy''s memory was sharp, he heard it once from Henry and remembered it clearly. The salesperson suggested negotiating with the bank staff, and he immediately thought of that guy. Henry scratched his head, "Sounds familiar." "I have a task for you. I plan to buy a factory for future recruits. The bank is currently selling it, and it happens to be managed by Kevin Madeen. I want you to talk to him." "No problem, boss," Henry immediately agreed. Hardy briefed the two on some details, and they set off in the car. In the evening, as work hours ended, Kevin Madeen left the bank building, exchanging farewells with colleagues as he approached his parked car by the roadside. Just as he opened the car door and got in, a figure appeared behind him, causing Kevin to startle. "Don''t move, don''t make a sound," Henry said from behind. Hearing that voice, Kevin''s body trembled. He was too familiar with that voice; it belonged to one of the two kidnappers who had once abducted him. After being released, he had nightmares for a long time, haunted by their voices. Each time, it jolted him awake. "Mr. Kidnapper, hello, I won''t shout or call for help. Are you here to take money? I''m sorry, I only have $3,600 prepared. If it''s not enough; can you give me more time? I will find a way to make up the difference." "I''m here for something else," Henry said. Kevin Madeen was taken aback. "What do you want?" He wondered if these robbers were asking him to assist in a bank robbery. "Someone wants to buy a bankrupt factory that your bank is selling. It''s a friend of my boss who wants to negotiate a lower price," Henry explained. Relieved, Kevin realized it wasn''t about robbing a bank. "Which factory is it?" Kevin quickly asked. "Shedigrove Toy Factory. Ring any bells?" "Yeah, I remember." Kevin indeed remembered the factory mentioned by Henry. A few months ago, during discussions, the non performing assets management mentioned it as a particularly hard sell. It was losing money and was categorized as an extremely non performing asset. "At what price does your boss''s friend want to buy?" Kevin cautiously inquired. "Of course, the lower, the better." "I understand." "All right, someone will contact you tomorrow to handle this. Remember, the lower the price, the better. If this goes well, your debt will be forgiven." Kevin felt relieved. Before the robbery, they made him prepare $5,000, which was a considerable sum. Kevin was one of the higher ranking executives at the bank, earning only about $5,000 to $6,000 a year. Succeeding in this task would essentially earn him a year''s salary. "Don''t worry, I''ll do my best to handle this," Kevin said. Henry got out of the car and slipped into another nearby vehicle, which quickly drove away. Throughout the encounter, Kevin never dared to look back at Henry. Only when the robbers finally left did he breathe a sigh of relief. In reality, although the robbers hadn''t come to his door, Kevin hadn''t been doing well. He had been photographed, and those robbers were unpredictable, it wouldn''t be difficult for them to come back for more. That''s why he didn''t report it to the police, fearing retaliation. During this period, with no contact from the robbers, Kevin had been on edge. Today''s encounter actually relieved him quite a bit. Kevin didn''t start his car but instead went back to the bank building, finding a staff member from the Credit Department, asking them to carefully examine all the information on the toy factory. He wanted to pinpoint every issue that could lower the bank''s asking price. As the head of the Credit Department, Kevin was well versed in finance and economics, and this case fell under his jurisdiction. No one understood the ins and outs better than him. Before, he had always tried his hardest to raise prices. This time, he was deliberately finding reasons to negotiate a lower price. The world works in mysterious ways. Chapter 45 Toy Factory Acquisition The next day. Hardy, along with Sean and the real estate sales representative, arrived at the Los Angeles City Bank. Entering the luxurious bank lobby, the receptionist asked, "Who are you gentlemen here to see?" "We''re looking for Mr. Kevin Madden, the manager," Sean replied. "Do you have an appointment?" "Just tell him we''re here to discuss the purchase of a toy factory. He should know." The receptionist glanced at them and picked up the phone to call Kevin''s office. "Manager Madden, there are three gentlemen downstairs asking to discuss the purchase of a toy factory. Do you have time to meet with them?" "Great, please have them go to the reception room on the third floor. Daisy, could you show them there? I''m afraid they might not find it." After hanging up the phone, the receptionist smiled at Hardy and the others. "Mr. Madden asks you to go to the third floor. Please follow me." Leading the way, the receptionist guided them to an elegantly decorated meeting room on the third floor and offered to make coffee for them. The sales representative, who was not new to visiting banks, had never been treated this well before. He wondered why they were being so accommodating this time. Could Mr. Hardy be a significant figure? Thinking about this, the sales representative looked at Hardy seriously. Soon, Kevin entered the meeting room with another middle aged man. Seeing Hardy and the others, they greeted each other with smiles. "Hello, I''m Kevin Madden, head of the credit department. This is Dave, head of the credit department''s distressed asset management." This was Hardy''s first time meeting Kevin Madden. Ah, last time this guy had his head covered; he didn''t see his face. "Mr. Madden, hello, I''m Sean. This is my boss, Mr. Hardy, and this is the real estate sales representative. We''re here to discuss the toy factory with the bank," Sean explained. Kevin glanced at Hardy, thinking this must be the friend of the gang leader that the robber mentioned. As long as this deal goes through, the gang promised not to ask him for ransom again. "Hello, Mr. Hardy," Kevin said warmly, extending his hand. "Hello, Mr. Madden," Hardy replied, shaking hands. Both sides sat down and entered negotiation mode. Dave smiled at Hardy and said, "Mr. Hardy, I believe you''ve received information about the toy factory from the sales company. The bank''s offer is $98,500, which is actually a very reasonable price." Dave continued, "The factory is one of the largest plastic toy factories in Los Angeles. The machinery is also newly replaced, with the initial cost of the batch of machines exceeding $40,000." If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Dave then looked at Hardy and said, "To be frank, Mr. Hardy, this toy factory is in high demand. Many people have shown interest in purchasing it. If you''re interested, it''s best to decide quickly before it''s taken by other buyers." "I visited the site myself. The 18-acre land is correct, but it''s far from Hollywood. The price can''t possibly reach $1,800 per acre. I think $1,300 per acre is a reasonable price," Hardy countered. Dave was somewhat annoyed. How could the price be so low? After discussing for a while, Hardy stuck to the $1,300 price. Dave was about to argue when Kevin intervened, "The location of that toy factory isn''t ideal, and Mr. Hardy''s $1,300 per acre price is fair." Dave was stunned. Kevin''s agreement left Dave puzzled. How could he agree to that price? but Kevin Madden was his direct superior, and Dave didn''t want to argue against him. The real estate sales representative was also puzzled. A bank isn''t charitable. They actually agreed to such a significant price reduction. Glancing at Hardy, he recalled that Mr. Hardy had instructed him to negotiate with the bank the day before. He was surprised that the bank agreed to such a significant discount, indicating the involvement of someone influential. After settling the land, Hardy continued, "I''ve seen the factory. It''s old and in disrepair. Many parts are ruined. If I buy it, I''ll have to renovate and rebuild. So pricing the building at $20,000 is unreasonable. I think $5,000 is the maximum." "The factory buildings, warehouses, and dormitories, although built four or five years ago, have no structural problems. With a little renovation, they''ll be as good as new," Dave argued. "It''s still too expensive," Hardy said, shaking his head. Dave was prepared to argue when Kevin intervened again, smiling at Hardy and saying, "I''ve reviewed the information. Those buildings are wooden frame and board constructions. Last year''s report mentioned termite issues in the vicinity. How about we settle at $6,000?" The sales representative was even more surprised. From $20,000 down to $6,000, Mr. Hardy sure knows how to negotiate. Hardy continued, "As for the machines, they''re three years old, idle for three years, and many are rusted and corroded." "Machinery becomes outdated quickly nowadays. Besides, I''m mainly interested in the location. I don''t intend to produce toys," Hardy explained. "If those machines are sold out, they would only fetch scrap prices. It is estimated that they wouldn''t even sell for $3,000." Dave was almost furious. "Even if they''re second hand, those machines can still fetch $10,000," he argued. "Then you can sell them, I have no objections," Hardy shrugged. Dave was speechless. Banks don''t sell assets individually. Who would sell these machines? Themselves? "Mr. Hardy, banks always sell assets as a package; there''s no retailing," Dave grumbled. "In that case, reduce the price. I''ll consider it as paying extra for the land," Hardy suggested. Dave thought, even the land price you''re buying isn''t expensive. In fact, it''s super cheap. Are you planning to buy without spending a cent? We''re practically giving this away. After a moment of silence, Kevin Madden spoke again, "Mr. Hardy, you make valid points. However, we always sell assets as a package. If you want to purchase the land, you''ll need to take the machines too." He paused briefly before continuing, "How about this? We''ll lower the price a bit, selling them to you at a second hand price. Total price of $8,000. What do you think?" Kevin looked at Hardy, clearly seeking approval. Next to him, Dave blinked vigorously, still trying to grasp why they sold it at such a low price. Hardy quickly calculated the figures mentally. He valued the land at $23,400 for 18 acres, the building at $6,000, and the production equipment at $8,000. The total price came to $37,400, which was slightly over half the original price. Kevin Madion seemed hesitant about lowering the price more, So Hardy accepted the offer, "Well, I agree to this price. Let''s sign the contract." Kevin Madion felt a wave of relief when Hardy agreed. It was finally settled, and Kevin felt like he had saved himself $5,000. The real estate salesman was visibly surprised. He had expected Hardy to negotiate for a slightly lower price, but the drop from 98,000$ to 37,000$was beyond his imagination a discount of over 60,000 $. The most astonished person was Dave. Even after signing over the toy factory to Mr. Hardy, he was still trying to comprehend why it had been sold at such a remarkably low price. Chapter 46 Making A Low-budget Movie After leaving the bank, the salesperson with a joyful expression congratulated Hardy, saying, "Mr. Hardy, you''re amazing! You bought that toy factory for less than forty thousand dollars. Even if you were to sell it right away, you could make a profit of ten to twenty thousand dollars." "Mr. Hardy, if you need anything related to real estate in the future, feel free to contact me anytime. My name is Edward," he said, handing over a business card. "Didn''t you give me one before?" Hardy took the card, looking puzzled. Edward smiled, "I always give a business card when meeting with clients, for easy contact. If a deal is struck, I give another card to leave a lasting impression and ensure the client remembers my name." "Dealing with old clients often yields success rates several times higher than with new ones," he added. Hardy felt that this guy''s analysis was correct. If he didn''t hand over his business card a second time, he would have forgotten about him. Returning to the toy factory once again, now fully owned by Hardy, he instructed, "Sean, find people to renovate the factory''s office building and dormitory. The yard also needs attention. Then, have someone create a sign that says ''HD Security Company''. This will be the headquarters of the security company from now on." "Okay boss." After walking around the office building, there was a large basement below, and Hardy had an idea and said: "Sean, let someone clean and Transform this place into a warehouse." "What are we planning to store in the warehouse, boss?" "Turn it into a gun warehouse, How can a security company not have its own gun warehouse?" Hardy said it with a smile. He pictured the 200 square meter basement filled with guns and ammunition, imagining it must be quite shocking. In the United States, adults are eligible to purchase firearms and ammunition. Guns are rampant, and gunfights can occur at any time. Security companies must apply for legal documents to carry firearms. Now that the business license for HD Security Company has been issued, the procedures for legally holding weapons are still being reviewed. But this did not prevent Hardy from building his weapons arsenal. Although Sean was average in combat, he had a sharp mind. Entrusting him with the renovation of the security company was no issue. Now that he has acquired a good base, its time to get more subordinates and train them, but recruiting more people would take some time. Hardy realized it had been days since he visited the film company. Despite not getting paid, he couldn''t neglect his role as Noah Film Company''s assistant chairman. Driving to the film company, the receptionist Susan smiled flirtatiously at Hardy. "Good afternoon, Assistant Hardy." "Good afternoon, Susan, I haven''t seen you for a few days, and your skin has become more delicate." Hardy said it with a smile. Susan blushed, her big eyes twinkling as she looked at Hardy. If Hardy invited her to dinner now, she would surely accept, perhaps they could play house again tonight. But now he has Ava Gardner, whom he can eat at any time. That woman is considered the best in all of Hollywood, keeping Hardy content and focused on his current priorities, with little distraction or interest in other women at the moment. Just as he entered his office, the film company''s general manager, Cohen, walked in. "Hardy, I was actually going to call you, but here you are." "What''s up, General Manager Cohen?" Hardy asked. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. "Warner Bros. reviewed the script we discussed in the meeting earlier. They think it''s decent and are willing to collaborate on the film. We''re having a meeting this afternoon to finalize things and prepare to sign with Warner Bros.," Cohen explained. "Good, I''ll be there on time." After sipping the coffee Susan brought him, Hardy entered the meeting room. General Manager Cohen and the heads of several departments were already present. Cohen glanced at the documents in his hand. "Warner Bros. agreed to collaborate on the film, but they want to make significant revisions to the script. The previous plot had some gaps. The film''s title has been decided: ''The Golden Outlaws.''" Upon hearing the title, Hardy searched his memory. Hmm... no recollection. It meant the film had already been lost in the sea of movies. In later years, film investors summarized the 80/20 rule, where eight out of ten films lose money, leaving only two profitable or break-even. Since the 1940s and 1950s, Hollywood has produced thousands of films annually, accumulating over decades, how many of those movies can people even remember?. The films that truly left marks and profit immensely are rare, hence they are considered classics among classics. Cohen continued, "Warner Bros. is willing to collaborate, but they want to take the lead with their production team. We''ll only be investors." The message was clear: Warner Bros. wanted control over the script and production team, with Noah Films only contributing financially. In the world of capital, whoever holds the power makes the decisions. "But what about our actors? Dozens of our actors have been idle for half a year," complained Thomas, head of the acting department. Hans, head of production, was even more dissatisfied. "Directors, writers, cinematographers, lighting technicians, props masters, and musicians¡ªI have more idle staff." Cohen shrugged helplessly. "I know, but we''re not confident about this film, and we''re short on funds. We have to follow Warner Bros.''s lead, or else our investment could be a loss. We''re investing 150,000$." After the meeting, Hardy went to Thomas''s office to chat. Thomas grumbled, "Even if we made a low budget film, it''d be better than just sitting around and following others lead. If we keep doing this, the company might really go bankrupt soon." "Is Cohen not managing the company effectively?" "The person who needs to get out of this company the most is Cohen. He has no vision, no achievements, no connections. The boss handed the film company to him, and he hasn''t made a dime for the boss," Thomas remarked. Hardy thought, Could this guy be trying to use me, the assistant chairman, to relay these thoughts to Sigel? Heh... interesting. There''s politics and contradictions everywhere. Even in such a small film company. Back in his office, Hardy lit a cigarette. Originally, he had considered giving Ava Gardner a small role in this film if it went into production. But now that it was going to Warner Bros, that plan seemed to be over. Noah couldn''t continue like this. An idea flashed through Hardy''s mind¡ªwhat if he invested in and directed a low budget film himself? He had seen countless films in later years, any random one was a classic. Finding a low budget film shouldn''t be difficult. Making money and attracting women it''s a win-win. But this film couldn''t be handled by Noah. There were too many issues with Noah, and this wasn''t his company, even though the boss was Sigel, Hardy didn''t have the noble sentiment of making a bridal dress for others. How much money could he put up now? He earned $170,000 from two robberies, spent $40,000 on the toy factory which could be covered by a mortgage on the factory building, potentially retrieving some money. Apart from leaving some for expenses, he could likely put up $150,000. Investing $150,000 in a film, even in 1946, would be considered a small production. What to film? Hardy had a sudden inspiration. He once played a PS4 game based on a film a classic Western film. In later years, it was considered one of the classics of Westerns. That film, produced in 1964, only cost $200,000 but earned tens of millions at the box office and received numerous accolades. Hardy picked up a stack of paper and wrote down a title. "The Wild Bunch." Summary: A lone bounty hunter named John arrives in a small town on the Mexican border and learns about the ongoing conflict between two factions the Ramon brothers and Sheriff Baxter. Seeing the plight of the townspeople, he decides to eliminate these two forces of evil. The film features a female character Ramon''s captive¡ªa role with minimal screen time but high impact. Hardy believed Marisa was perfect for this role. The synopsis was about three to four thousand words long, and Hardy felt it explained the story clearly. He picked up the phone and called the office. "Mr. Hardy, what can I do for you?" came the voice on the other end. "Get the company''s screenwriters for me. I need to talk to them," Hardy instructed. Everyone has their specialty, he couldn''t write a script, so he left it to the professionals who were right here. Chapter 47 Crafting and Discussing the Script Two screenwriters arrived. One is named David Shaw, and the other is named Newton. "What does Assistant Hardy want from us?" the two asked. "I''ve thought of a story and want you to help me turn it into a screenplay. Take a look." Hardy pushed the manuscript over. Both David and Newton simultaneously had a thought: another ambitious young person who thinks being noticed by the boss and becoming an assistant means he can do anything. They took the manuscript with a scrutinizing eye. But the more they read, the more surprised they became. They found it to be quite a good story. Most westerns movies in the past were inseparable from gold, western settlements development, and Native Americans, but this script didn''t have those fixed elements; it told the story of a lone hero. Just by looking at this brief synopsis of three thousand words, they had already outlined a brilliant story in their minds, including an image of a cowboy who rode the world on horseback, a valiant and unrestrained hero. "I hope to see the first draft of the screenplay tomorrow. Which one of you can help me with that?" Hardy said. Both screenwriters were stunned. "Tomorrow? Mr. Hardy, that''s not possible. It would take at least a week," Newton retorted. Hardy realized that people involved in art always did things slowly. It would take them a long time to finish a screenplay of tens of thousands of words, and a movie often took several months. In future some novel writers could write a 10 000 word in a day not because they were particularly talented, but because they were really putting in the effort. Hardy stared at the two and said, "I plan to invest in filming this story myself. I''m confident that if the film is made, it will win awards, and there will be a script fee. You can also keep the name of the second screenwriter. With an award winning work, your worth will also change." They did see potential in this story. If it really won an award, they could also become famous. Although they were the second screenwriters, they could still tell others they had award winning work, attend Hollywood parties, and find it easier to pick up girls. "Mr. Hardy, we''ll take on this task. We''ll hand in the first draft of the screenplay to you tomorrow afternoon," David said. After the two screenwriters left, Hardy went to the screening room again. Noah Film Company''s facilities were quite complete, with its own film library and screening room. He asked the staff to retrieve films directed by two directors from his company and prepare to select a suitable director from them. The first director''s style leaned towards urban genres and had a slight comedic feel, which was quite different from what Hardy wanted. The second director was named Jonathan Nolan and was good at shooting westerns cowboy movies. The film ''Golden Outlaw'' written by the company before was a typical western cowboy film, and the original plan was for Nolan to direct it. Nolan wasn''t in the company, since hearing about the movie''s failure, he had not come to the company for two days. It was already past five o''clock. At this time, it wasn''t appropriate to call someone to the company. Hardy found Nolan''s home phone number from the company directory and dialed it. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Ring ring ring! The phone was picked up. "May I ask who''s calling?" "Is this Director Nolan?" "Yes, who is this?" "I''m John Hardy." It took Nolan a while to react. "Oh, Assistant Hardy, what can I do for you?" "Didn''t you already hand the film over to Warner Bros?" Nolan asked, puzzled. "It''s a new film, a Western cowboy style" Hardy replied. "Isn''t the company out of budget this year?" "No, I''ve secured an investment," Hardy said. Hardy entered a bar. He found a quiet booth, took off his coat, and set it aside. Within a few minutes, a middle aged man entered the bar and saw Hardy approaching him. "Hello, Mr. Hardy''s." "Hello, Director Nolan." After exchanging greetings with a handshake, they sat down and ordered drinks. In the dim light of the bar, Nolan read through the synopsis and pondered for a moment. Many scenes began to form in his mind, and he increasingly found the story intriguing. "Is the script not ready yet?" Nolan asked. "The writers are working on it. We should have a first draft by tomorrow evening," Hardy replied. "Mr. Hardy, how much investment have you brought in?" Nolan was most concerned about the financial aspect. "How much do you think making this film will cost?" Nolan took a sip from his glass. "There''s quite a difference. First, there''s the cast. A top tier actor like Clark Gable wouldn''t come for less than $500,000. If we go for a second- or third-tier actor, it would be just a few thousand or even less." "For this movie, I am pursuing movie effects, not star power. we can find second-tier or third-tier actors or even extras with acting skills. No problem." Hardy said. Nolan nodded. "Then there''s the set props. After looking at this story, the content isn''t complex, it''s just an event happening in a small town. I remember there are a few film companies with production bases in New Mexico. We can rent one for a period of time. Then there''s costume props, horse drawn carriages, explosives, and the like. These aren''t too costly." "Then there is the film. Is Mr. Hardy going to shoot in black and white or in color?" Nolan asked. "Is there a big difference?" "A substantial one, about three times the cost. Film stock is a major expense. If shooting in black and white requires $50,000 worth of film stock, shooting in color would need $150,000," Nolan explained. "Black and white it is," Hardy decided. The classic film "Roman Holiday" was shot in 1953 and was still in black and white. Some people questioned why, unlike "Gone with the Wind," shot in 1939, "Roman Holiday" didn''t use color film, which was regretted by many. The simplest reason here was a lack of funds. But that wouldn''t diminish "Roman Holiday" from becoming a cinematic classic. Thinking about this, Hardy thought, if he ever got the chance to meet Audrey Hepburn, he would definitely invest in remaking "Roman Holiday" in color. Hardy and Nolan talked until dawn, and through their conversation, Hardy gained a deeper understanding of the film making process and its intricacies. They also discussed "The Wild Frontier," and Nolan shared some of his ideas: desolate, pure, wild, and masculine. Nolan''s ideas aligned well with Hardy''s vision. "Director Nolan, I formally invite you to direct and produce this film," Hardy said, extending his hand to Nolan. Nolan paused for a moment. "Can I ask how much investment there is?" From their earlier conversation, Nolan could tell that the investment in this film was likely not substantial. "150,000$ That''s the total investment," Hardy replied. Nolan furrowed his brow, thinking. 150,000$ indeed a bit low. After a few seconds, he firmly slapped Hardy''s palm with his hand. "I''ll take on this job." The next morning, Hardy contacted an intermediary and purchased an empty shell film company. These shell companies were abundant in Hollywood, with nothing except the company name. Hardy bought it to save time and the hassle of registration, for just a few hundred dollars more. The company name was re-registered, and just like that, Hardy added another company under his name, "HD Film Company." In just two months, Hardy now owns three companies. HD Talent Agency, HD Commercial Security Company, HD Film Company. After registering the film company, Hardy called in Sean. "Let''s go to the bank." "Why are we going to the bank, boss?" "For a loan." Films needed money, and hiring a large number of underlings also needed funding. Hardy planned to mortgage the toy factory to the bank, securing a loan, so there would be more money to spend. Kevin was at work when the receptionist informed him that a Mr. Jon Hardy was looking for him. Kevin''s heart skipped a beat. Here we go again, is this never ending? Chapter 48 Getting a Loan "Mr. Hardy, I didn''t expect to see you again so soon. What can I do for you this time?" Inside the bank''s reception room, Kevin Madison asked Hardy with a smile on his face. He had to be accommodating, who knew if those robbers would tie him up again? "I''d like to apply for a loan," Hardy replied. "A loan? How much are you looking to borrow, and what will the money be used for?" Kevin asked. "I have a film company and plan to shoot a movie. We''re a bit short on funds right now, so I''m looking to borrow some money from the bank." "I see. Do you have any collateral or guarantees?" Kevin inquired. "What kind of collateral do you need?" Kevin quickly explained to Hardy, "The most common form is physical collateral, such as valuable items like gold jewelry, fine artworks, real estate properties, or shares in other companies." "There are also intangible assets. In Hollywood, there are some unique collateral options. For example, if MGM wants a loan, they can use a film like ''Gone with the Wind'' as collateral. Even though ''Gone with the Wind'' has been out for years, it still earns hundreds of thousands in revenue for MGM annually, so this can also be considered as collateral." "How much can I borrow against my toy factory?" Hardy asked. Kevin was taken aback. Mr. Hardy had just bought the toy factory yesterday, and today he was already using it as collateral for a loan. That was quite fast. Was this planned in advance? "How much are you looking to borrow against it?" Kevin cautiously asked. "I consulted professionals, and they said the land plus the factory and machines could fetch 60,000$. I''ll borrow 60,000$" Hardy said. Kevin quietly took a deep breath. Hardy bought it for less than $40,000 yesterday, and today he''s here to borrow $60,000 against it. If the higher ups at the bank find out about this, they''ll surely think he''s helping Hardy scheme to profit from the bank. Well, maybe that''s actually what''s happening. But he couldn''t refuse. The torment of those three days in the cellar was something he never wanted to experience again in his life. "Can I have some time to think about it?" Kevin whispered. "Sure, please handle it, Mr. Madison." "No trouble at all. Please wait here," Kevin returned to his office and sat down, pondering. He was the head of the credit department, and for loans under $50,000, he had the authority to decide without needing approval from higher-ups. Perhaps it would be best to lend him $50,000 to avoid unnecessary complications. Kevin prepared the loan paperwork and returned to the meeting room. "Mr. Hardy, my maximum authority allows me to approve a loan of $50,000. Anything higher would require approval from upper management and take longer, at least two weeks or more." This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. This was the first time in his life, as a credit manager, that he spoke in such a tone to someone seeking a loan. Usually, it was the company bosses begging him. "50,000," Hardy pondered. "That should be sufficient." After deducting $150,000 for the film production, he would still have over $30,000 left, enough to cover the expenses of new hires for some time. Besides, If push came to shove, he could always rob again, maybe even the Spanish gang this time. After all, he was determined to finish them off. "Alright, $50,000 it is," Hardy agreed. Kevin Madison breathed a sigh of relief. "Very well, I''ll process the paperwork. The money should be ready in three days." After they exited the bank. Hardy checked the time; it was afternoon. He drove back to the Noah''s Ark Film Company, where he had arranged with two screenwriters to review the first draft this evening. Arriving at the company, Director Nolan was already there. It was almost 6 o''clock when the two screenwriters, David and Newton, rushed in. Both of them looked exhausted with red eyes but excited. "Assistant Hardy, Director Nolan, we stayed up all night yesterday and worked through the day today. We finally finished the first draft of the script. We both feel very confident about it and believe this script has great potential." Hardy took the script, and with Nolan standing behind him, they quickly read through it. The script was around thirty to forty thousand words, and they finished reading it in just fifteen minutes. The first draft of the script essentially captured all the essence of Hardy''s outline, and Hardy was reasonably satisfied. He looked up at Nolan, who seemed lost in thought. "Nolan, what do you think of this script?" Hardy asked. Nolan snapped out of his reverie and quickly responded, "As I was imagining the scenes in my mind, I came up with a rough story line that feels even more compelling than what we discussed yesterday. To be honest, I have high hopes for this film." "This film isn''t just about heroism and a lone hero, it has elements that many Hollywood films lack. The plot is clear and refreshing, the backbone is solid yet complex, and the protagonist isn''t the typical embodiment of justice. Initially, he agrees to help for money, but it''s not just about the money he is after all a living, breathing person..." Nolan immersed himself in his creative thoughts. "Let''s meet with Cohen tomorrow. I plan to use Noah''s Ark''s crew and equipment for filming," Hardy suggested. Nolan waved it off indifferently. "That''s your business. I''m only responsible for the film." After dismissing Hardy, Nolan turned to the two screenwriters. "I think there are some details that need tweaking and refining. Let''s discuss." The three artists gathered in Hardy''s office to discuss the script. Hardy glanced at the time; it was past nine in the evening. Ignoring the artistic folks, he drove to Ava''s house. Knock, knock, knock! He lightly tapped on the door. Eva Gardner, dressed in loose home attire, opened the door and was pleasantly surprised to see Hardy, giving him a hug. "Haven''t seen you in days, Hardy." "I''ve been busy these days. Have you eaten? I haven''t had dinner," Hardy walked in, took off his coat, and Eva hung it on the rack. "What would you like me to cook for you?" Ava asked. "Anything is fine." "How about spaghetti, and I''ll fry a steak for you?" "Sounds good." Eva started cooking in the kitchen while Hardy poured himself a drink and stood nearby. Eva turned to look at him, "What have you been busy with lately?" "Quite a lot, mostly business matters. But there''s something you''ll find interesting," Hardy said, taking a sip of his drink. "Oh, what is it?" Ava asked with interest. "You always wanted to act, right? I''ve found a role for you." Upon hearing this, Eva turned around immediately, her face filled with surprise. "Really, Hardy? What kind of role is it? Does it have lines? Actually, it doesn''t need lines, just a solo shot would be enough." Hardy said with a smile "No, you will be the heroine of this movie!" Ava was stunned. She looked at Hardy with disbelief written all over her face. "A leading role? How is that possible?" Hardy smiled gently at her. "This film is my investment, a Western film, and it has a leading female role. Although not a significant part, the film mainly revolves around male characters. Are you interested in this role?" "I am, I am!!" "Ah!" Ava Gardner let out a scream. Dropping the meat fork in her hand, she rushed over to Hardy, "Really, Hardy? A leading role? Oh my God, I can''t believe it. Thank you, Hardy." "Ava, the meat is burning." "Forget about it, Hardy!" Chapter 49 Negotiating The rental Of Equipment A wonderful dinner. The food was simple, but the service was top notch. The waitress, dressed as a maid, served attentively, cutting the steak and delivering it to the mouth, The red wine tasted exquisite. After dinner, Eva kept talking to Hardy about the movie plot. After listening to the whole story line, Eva realized that indeed, as Hardy said, this movie was entirely a male oriented film, with the female lead having very little presence. But for her first movie role, being able to get the female lead was extremely lucky. She knew that if it weren''t for Hardy, she might not have gotten a chance to play the female lead, even after running as an extra for ten years. "Tomorrow you and I will go to Noah Film Company to meet the director," Hardy said. "What if the director doesn''t choose me?" Eva asked worriedly. Hardy held the woman''s face and said seriously, "This movie is my investment. I am the producer. Do you think I can''t decide on a female lead?" His tone exuded the confidence of a domineering CEO. There are too many beautiful women in Hollywood, and many people exert all their efforts just for a chance. Meeting Hardy was a stroke of great luck for herself. Eva wasn''t foolish. She would firmly grasp such an opportunity, not daring to relax at all. The next day. Hardy drove with Eva Gardner to the film company. The receptionist Susan saw Hardy coming in with a young and beautiful woman, and compared to this woman, she immediately felt inferior. She had given hints to assistant Hardy before, but he didn''t care. It turned out that Hardy already had such a beautiful girlfriend. In the assistant''s office, there was a rough draft of the script from yesterday. Hardy handed it to Eva. "You take a look at the script first. I''ll go talk to the general manager, and then I''ll take you to meet Director Nolan." Hardy left, and Eva eagerly began reading the script. This was the first script she had ever received in her life, and she cherished it deeply. In the general manager Cohen''s office, Cohen saw Hardy smiling and stood up, "Hardy, I heard you''re planning to shoot a movie and want to use our company''s director, Nolan?" "That''s right, just a low budget Western film, investing $150,000. I came to talk to Manager Cohen. I want to discuss renting personnel and equipment from the company to produce this film," Hardy said with a smile. "Of course, if Noah is ready to invest, I am also willing to accept the investment. " Hardy said with a smile. "Investment, what''s the split?" Cohen asked. "Nolan is responsible for all expenses, including director, cinematography, props, music, and the entire production team, as well as upfront funds, taking a 30% stake," Hardy said. Cohen frowned deeply. This assistant Hardy''s was planning to invest nothing, letting Noah invest all the upfront funds entirely, and yet he wanted to take a 70% share with just a script. What made him dare to say such things? Cohen mentally labeled Hardy as ignorant and arrogant. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. "Forget about the investment then. Noah''s finances are tight this year we just finished a collaboration with Warner, and aren''t planning another investment so soon," Cohen vetoed the investment proposal. Hardy thought to himself, I gave you the opportunity, It''s your own fault for being incompetent. "Well, let''s discuss the rental situation," Hardy said with a smile. Renting personnel and equipment is a Hollywood practice. There are thousands of film companies in Hollywood, but only a few dozen truly have comprehensive production capabilities. Most film companies rent equipment and personnel. "Noah has been idle lately. I also saw this situation and prepared to start a film. Long periods without work will cause problems internally, especially with unstable morale. Don''t you think so, Manager Cohen?" Hardy said to Cohen. Cohen was taken aback. We were just going to talk about leasing. Why are you discussing company matters? Then suddenly, his mind turned. Thinking of the boss, Sigel. Hardy is the boss''s assistant. Knowing that the film project was given to Warner Bros. and the internal operations of the company are struggling, is this criticism against himself? Hardy is just an assistant, how could he have the ability to pull off a movie project? It''s definitely the boss''s, Sigel''s, behest, and even this money is likely from the boss. Is this a hint directed at himself? If he doesn''t perform well again, he''ll probably get kicked out of the company. This assistant Hardy before him is Sigel''s confidant, sent to the company to oversee him. This movie project is also a test; he absolutely must cooperate well and not let Hardy speak ill of him in front of the boss. Hardy didn''t realize that his few words made Cohen think so much. His intention in saying this was just to negotiate a lower price. But because of his role as an assistant, Cohen''s mind wandered into many thoughts. "Manager Cohen, I plan to rent the entire team at Noah, so shouldn''t you give a discount on the price?" Hardy''s words startled Cohen. "Ah, Hardy''s assistant is also part of the company, naturally, you can receive a discount. The company has a leasing price list, we''ll give you a 30% discount, How does Assistant Hardy feel about that?" Cohen had already decided to establish a good relationship with Hardy, offering the highest possible discount. "A 30% discount, I''m very satisfied with that. However, Manager Cohen, my funds aren''t very abundant right now. I can pay the personnel rent to the company in staggered payments. As for the equipment and prop rental, can we leave that temporarily?" Hardy said. He doesn''t have much money on hand, and he doesn''t know how much he''ll need later on Saving a bit upfront is crucial, keeping more funds on hand to deal with emergencies. Cohen looked troubled, he had already offered the best price, and now Hardy was adding conditions. Leaving the equipment and props rent temporarily means if you run out of money later or the movie loses money, this deal might turn into a bad debt, and he would inevitably be blamed. But considering Hardy''s status, even if the movie lost money, it''s all the boss money. "Fine, I agree to defer the equipment rental." Cohen said. Hardy left the general manager''s office satisfied, and Cohen breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, he managed to deal with this guy. By making such concessions, he figured that, for a short time, Hardy wouldn''t complain to the boss about him. Arriving at the director''s office, Hardy saw Nolan writing something on the table. Upon hearing a voice, Nolan raised his head and, upon seeing Hardy, stood up and rubbed his face. "Nolan, didn''t you go home last night?" Hardy asked in surprise. Nolan smiled and said, "I haven''t directed for two years. I finally got a good script, feeling excited inside and out. Last night, I was discussing until dawn with Newton and others here. Many ideas came to mind, I quickly wrote them down and unknowingly stayed busy all night." "It''s all settled; from now on, you''re the director of ''The Wild Bounty Hunter.'' Noah''s equipment and personnel are at your disposal," Hardy said. Nolan''s face lit up after hearing this, "That''s great! Starting today, I''ll assemble my own team." "Nolan, I brought someone here; take a look to see if she''s suitable for the female lead," Hardy said. "Oh, where is she?" "Right in my office, I''ll go get her." "No, I was just about to stretch. Let''s go to your office together," Nolan said. As they walked towards Hardy''s office, Nolan thought to himself that since Hardy had brought the female lead here and let her stay in his office, the two must have a deep relationship. As long as that woman isn''t exceptionally bad, he''s prepared to let her be the female lead. Moreover, in this movie, the main characters are a group of men. Although there''s a female lead, her role is very little, possibly even less significant than supporting roles in other movies. It''s not essential at all. What he thought about most yesterday was finding a suitable male lead to highlight the character of Jon. Chapter 50 Theme Song Ava Gardner was reading the script. If categorized as a movie, this film would be considered a Western hero film, with the protagonist being a bounty hunter named John. Seeing the name John, Ava smiled to herself. Hardy must have used his own name here. When she saw the name of the female lead, Marissa, Ava was momentarily stunned. Did Hardy think of his own name when writing the female lead? The script was exceptionally well-crafted. After finishing it, Hardy told her that he had written it himself. Before, Ava had only thought of Hardy as a rough man, but she hadn''t realized he was so talented, able to write such a good script. At that moment, Ava felt a strong sense of admiration for Hardy, he wasn''t just an ordinary gang leader. He was an artistic and talented gang leader. Thinking of this, Ava suddenly felt that the protagonist, John in the script was quite like Hardy. Rough, But with a sense of righteousness. If it weren''t for him back then, perhaps she would still be living under the shadow of that devilish agent. In the end, wasn''t it Hardy who saved her? Just then, the door was pushed open. Hardy entered with director Nolan. Ava snapped out of her own reverie, looked up at the two, and said, "Ah, you''re back." She quickly stood up. Seeing someone beside Hardy, Ava appeared a bit reserved. Nolan looked at the woman before him and was instantly amazed. This woman was extremely beautiful, arguably one of the top actresses, even among Hollywood stars. Perfect proportions, slender legs, and a beautiful face with an air of determination. No wonder Hardy was so dedicated. If he had a girlfriend like this, he do be just as dedicated. "Ava, let me introduce you. This is Jonathan Nolan, the director of ''Frontier Hero.''" "Nice to meet you, Mr. Director," Ava said with a light smile. "Nice to meet you, Miss Gardner." Hardy looked at Nolan and smiled, asking, "How do you feel about the lead actress I found for you?" Nolan looked at Ava, shook his head without saying a word. Why did the director shake his head? Could it be that he didn''t like her? Ava Gardner immediately became nervous. "She''s too beautiful. Originally, in my imagination, Marissa wasn''t this beautiful, but just now, I suddenly felt that a woman who could be so desperately pursued by Romain should indeed be very beautiful, irresistible to be taken away." Upon hearing this, Ava''s mood eased slightly. Nolan looked at Ava, holding the script, and said to her, "Miss Gardner, you must have read the script by now." "Yes, I have."Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. "Can you perform a scene according to the script''s plot, any scene will do." Ava Gardner had studied acting for over a year before. Just having read the script, she had gained some understanding of the character Marissa. Just now, she even imagined Hardy as the great bounty hunter John, and herself as the Marissa he had saved, inadvertently getting into character. Ava walked to the center, her steps slightly faltering, her eyes becoming melancholic, and her voice tinged with sadness, "Romain, don''t hurt my child, please." Then she turned around and embraced something tightly, tears streaming down, "Please, Romain, spare him, he''s innocent, I''ll go back with you obediently, never run away again." Her face was filled with heartbreak and despair. "Excellent performance. Miss Gardner is very suitable for this role. I think we can confirm the lead actress now," Nolan said loudly. Nolan wasn''t stupid; this woman was already Hardy''s intended lead actress. Besides, her acting skills were passable, and she was beautiful, fully capable of being the lead actress. Ava wiped away her tears, almost jumping up with excitement, visible joy and excitement in her eyes. This was her first role in life. The three sat down. Nolan said to Hardy, "Now the most critical thing is finding a male lead who fits the character of John. This is very important. I''ve thought about suitable actors in Hollywood right now. There are a few who might fit well; I have high hopes for Henry Fonda, but his salary is around $350,000, which is too expensive. McRae or Coburn would work, but their fees are also above $100,000." Hardy refused directly saying, "As I mentioned, this film won''t rely on stars for popularity. All the money will be used for filming. Hollywood has plenty of second- and third-tier actors whose acting skills are not lacking. We can certainly select suitable actors from them." Nolan agreed with Hardy''s approach. "Alright, I''ll have someone scout through the actor''s union, and once we have a list, I''ll run it by you. Hardy, I''ll head out now; I can''t wait to start assembling the crew." Nolan stood up. Hardy smiled as he escorted Nolan out. In the office, only Hardy and Ava remained. Immediately shedding her reserve, Ava threw herself onto Hardy, "Hardy, I can really be the lead actress, I''m so happy, it''s like a dream come true." "Is it a beautiful dream? Then let''s keep dreaming, never waking up." After her excitement subsided, Ava picked up the script again, treating it as if it was the most beautiful thing in the world. Hardy brewed a cup of tea and lit a cigar. Regarding the film... The reason film companies seek big stars isn''t just because of their acting skills, which is only a small part of it. The main reason is to use their fame to draw people into cinemas. Like directors in later times would select popular actors, even if they know that some actor''s acting skills are poor, if they have popularity, they can draw in audiences. Before every film premiere, extensive publicity efforts are made, often costing a significant portion of the film''s budget, sometimes even exceeding production costs. The goal is to get people to buy tickets and enter the cinema. How should he promote his film in the future? Traditional promotion methods are undoubtedly costly. Hardy searched for modern promotional strategies in his mind, hoping to find one to use. "Jon, does this film have a theme song?" Ava suddenly asked. "A theme song?" "Yes, like the theme song ''My Own True Love'' from ''Gone with the Wind,'' I absolutely love it. Sometimes, the theme song becomes more famous than the movie itself." A flash of inspiration suddenly crossed Hardy''s mind. Yes, Film soundtrack. If they could create a film soundtrack, play it on the radio, and promote it as the soundtrack of a film without revealing the movie''s name, people would surely be curious. By the time the film was released, combined with the song''s promotion, the effect would likely surpass throwing money around. But what song should he use? have the company''s music department write one? Those people probably couldn''t write a hit song. Why not pick a classic from later times? Hardy''s memory was pretty good; he loved listening to songs, especially old classics, and playing them on loop while driving. He suddenly thought of a song and closed his eyes, softly humming. Hardy''s voice was somewhat deep, and his singing ability was at best karaoke level, but his singing immediately captivated Ava. This melodious tone was something she had never heard before. He stopped singing after just one verse and looked at Ava, who was filled with astonishment. "This is a song I composed before, based on an English folk song. What do you think?" Ava Gardner covered her mouth in astonishment. "Oh my, Hardy, you can compose songs too, and they''re so beautiful. This song is simply amazing; I was deeply drawn in by just a few lines." Ava Gardner walked up to Hardy, her eyes filled with admiration, gently holding the man''s face and softly saying, "Hardy, you''re the most talented man I''ve ever met." Chapter 51 Eastwood Ava Gardner had been studying singing for over a year. Writing sheet music was just basic skills. Hardy sang it twice to let her record the melody and lyrics. "Ava, try singing it," Hardy said. Ava Gardner held the sheet music and tried to sing. Ava''s first attempt was a bit shaky, but she had a much stronger voice and singing ability than Hardy. She managed to capture the essence of the song. "Ava, the essence of this song is ethereal and distant, as if the voice comes from the sky" Hardy explained the mood of the song to Ava Gardner. Ava nodded along. She steadied herself and sang again. This time, her voice clearly had that ethereal quality. Ava''s voice was truly gifted, beautifully captivating, and could hold your ears tightly. This time Ava was much more proficient, hardly pausing during the performance. When the song finished, Hardy was awakened from his enjoyment and opened his eyes. Such a beautiful voice, and he had never properly cherished it before. He resolved to be more careful and not hurt her. After Ava finished singing, she looked excitedly at Hardy. "I really like this song. It''s so beautiful. When I sing, I feel like I''m wandering in a colorful sea of ??flowers, very comfortable. No song has ever made me feel like this." Ava sang for the third time. She enjoyed singing, and others listening to her sing was an even greater pleasure. "Ava, come with me," Hardy pulled Ava out. "Where are we going?" "The film company has a recording studio. Let''s record the song," Hardy said. "But there''s no music now?" "It''s okay. The film company has already arrangers. They''ll handle it." Noah was a big company, and every movie needed music arrangements, naturally employing many talents. Several people were working in the arranging room, composing music for independent films. Noah did not make movies itself, so it relied on picking up work from some independent film companies to sustain itself. Supervisor Jason stood up and greeted Hardy when he saw him entering the arranging room. "Assistant Hardy, why are you here in our arranging room?" "I need your help with something," Hardy said with a smile. "Is it about the music for the new movie?" Jason asked. The news spread quickly, and the information about the upcoming new movie was probably known throughout the company. "No, it''s a new song. Please arrange an accompaniment for it," Hardy handed the sheet music to him. Supervisor Jason became interested after looking it over, walked over to the piano, played the sheet music, and hummed along. "It feels good. Let me have someone sing it," Jason said. "No need to look for someone. I have a singer here," Hardy said, pushing Ava Gardner forward.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. "Ava, sing it again for everyone to hear." Several staff members stopped what they were doing and looked at the beautiful woman. Ava had sung the song several times before, so this time she sang more relaxedly. Her wonderful voice echoed in the room, immediately attracting the arrangers. They thought this girl''s voice was really good. Where did Assistant Hardy find her? Supervisor Jason quickly reacted after listening to a few sentences and began to accompany on the piano. With accompaniment, everyone felt the song was even more appealing, quickly immersing themselves in the music, deeply intoxicated. The song ended. People finally came to their senses. "It''s so beautiful. I feel like this is one of the most beautiful song I''ve heard in my life, it''s heavenly." "Some parts of the melody are reminiscent of a Scottish folk song, but there''s a difference. It''s more appealing and charming." "I''m sure I''ve never heard this song before. Miss, did you create this song?" "No, it was created by Hardy." Jason was stunned. Everyone in the room was stunned. It turned out that it was assistant Hardy who composed it. No one expected assistant Hardy to be such an excellent songwriter, able to write such a beautiful song. Someone thought to themselves, it''s no wonder Hardy''s assistant was appointed as the chairman''s assistant at such a young age. The new movie Hardy planned have already brought the whole company to life, and now it turns out he can also compose songs. Some even wondered, could the boss be preparing to groom him as the general manager? Hardy looked at supervisor, Jason. "Jason, can you help me arrange the accompaniment? This song is for the theme of the new movie." "Of course," Jason immediately agreed. Being able to arrange such music, he felt honored. Perhaps this would be a classic that future generations would remember, and his name might also be remembered. "After arranging the accompaniment, I''ll need your help to record this song with Ava," Hardy said. "No problem at all. By the way, may I ask, what is the name of this song?" Benson asked. "It''s called ''Scarborough Fair.''" On the drive back home, Ava was very excited. Today, she got the role of the leading actress and also had the opportunity to sing the movie''s theme song. These were things she had dreamt of but never really thought she would experience these in reality, It was all so magical. Watching the traffic flow, Ava hummed the song and then suddenly looked at Hardy. "Hardy, I know that parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme mentioned in the lyrics are all flowers. Is there any symbolism?" "These flowers represent the sweetness of love, strength, loyalty and courage," Hardy said. Ava Gardner''s eyes became dreamy. After a while, she breathed out and said, "I understand now. The lyrics feel even more beautiful to me." "Oh, by the way, Hardy, one of the arrangers mentioned he detected anti war sentiments in the song. Is that true?" Hardy knew that ''Scarborough Fair'' originated in 1965 and indeed carried anti war connotations, likely referring to the Vietnam War. However, it was equally relevant considering the recent end of World War II. "Ava, your task for now is to polish this song well. I''ll have the company record it as a record," Hardy said. "Yes, I''ll definitely sing it well," Ava Gardner said excitedly. Hardy brought Ava back to the company and handed her over to the arranging supervisor, Jason, while he went to find Nolan. When Nolan saw Hardy approaching, he quickly greeted him. "Hardy, come take a look. I''ve selected a batch of second and third tier male actors. See if there are any suitable ones here." Resumes with photos, It listed their past roles and experiences performing with a certain performance group, etc. Their pay was clearly not in the same league as that of big stars. Some were even paid weekly, earning only two to three hundred dollars a month. Most of them were looking for opportunities. The male lead of "Wild Bunch," Jon, was a man in his thirties with a weathered face. Such people were abundant in Hollywood. What Hardy and Nolan wanted to find were actors whose temperament matched Jon''s. "This one''s too feminine." "This one''s eyes are lifeless." "This one''s chin is too ugly." Just as Hardy was about to flip to the next one, he was stunned by the photo and profile. Clint Eastwood, 33 years old, had played supporting roles in several low budget films, none of which Hardy had heard of. Is that ....! How could that be possible? but the photo did resemble the Eastwood he remembered. If going by history, Eastwood should only be 15 years old now, a complete distortion of time and space. But Hardy thought it over. In this world he came to, too many things were different from historical time and space, and many movie characters and events appeared. Now, why bother getting tangled up? "Nolan, bring this person in for a look," Hardy pointed at Eastwood and said to the director Nolan. Nolan looked at the photo. "Eastwood. Do you think he''s suitable?" Hardy smiled. "He might just be a piece of gold buried in the sand." Chapter 52 Fathers Resolve Cloak. Cowboy hat. Thick stubble on his face. Deep eyes. A half-smoked cigar in his mouth. A revolver hanging from his waist. A look of wildness and recklessness was immediately apparent. Nolan circled around Eastwood for quite some time, looking him up and down, and finally turned to Hardy with some excitement, saying, "Hardy, I''m getting a feeling about him." Hardy looked at Eastwood and asked "Have you signed with a brokerage company?" "I have in the past, but after the expiration of the first two years, I didn''t sign again." Eastwood replied. "Would you like to sign a contract with my agency? The protagonist of this movie will be yours." Hardy proposed. "I''m willing," Eastwood agreed without hesitation. He had been playing supporting roles for ten years, waiting for an opportunity like this. Now that a leading role was presented to him, he was determined to seize it no matter what. The terms offered by Hardy''s agency were decent¡ª70/30 split, with the company taking 70% and the individual taking 30%. This was a 10% improvement over his last contract, and Eastwood gladly signed. Hardy was also delighted; he hadn''t expected to secure a future star. This deal was definitely a safe and profitable investment, perhaps even a lucrative one. With the lead actor confirmed, the choice of supporting roles became easier. Hardy no longer interfered with these decisions, leaving them all to director Nolan. Hardy then went to the recording studio to check on Ava. She and the composers were busy. finalizing the recording would likely take a few more days. Upon returning to his office, the phone suddenly rang. Answering it, he was surprised to hear Richard''s voice on the other end. Hardy came to the film company and told his brothers his contact information so that they could call him in case of emergency. "What''s wrong, Richard?" Hardy asked. "Hardy, I want you to meet someone." "Who?" "Do you remember Major James Lancer?" Hardy drove to the toy factory. The factory had been cleaned up to serve as a residence; a new sign at the entrance read "HD Security Company." During this time, Henry, Matthews and others had been gradually locating several of their former comrades. Hardy had managed to visit them once during this period, and now they were all arranged to reside here. Inside the meeting room, Hardy saw Richard conversing with a somewhat haggard middle aged man wearing a wrinkled suit and a sparse beard. What stood out most was the wooden stick in place of one of his legs. Clearly, it was a prosthetic limb. Despite the passage of years, Hardy immediately recognized the man before him Major James Lancer, Marine Corps Operations Staff. Hardy''s memory flashed back to 1942.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. During the Battle of Guadalcanal, Major Lancer, serving as a operations staff officer, was engaged in military operations with the Marine battalion when they encountered an ambush shortly after landing. They were heavily bombarded by the Japanese artillery, resulting in many casualties. Major Lancer lost a leg in the shelling. At that time, Hardy was a squad leader not far from Major Lancer. Despite the artillery fire, Hardy bravely approached and pulled Lancer out, with Richard and others helping carry him away from the battlefield. Since then, Hardy had never seen Major Lancer again. Three years had passed in a blink of an eye. Hardy walked into the room and stood before Major Lancer. "Major Lancer, do you remember me?" Supporting himself with an armrest, Major Lancer looked sincerely at Hardy. "Of course, Jon Hardy. We fought side by side once. When I lost my thigh to a shell, it was you who led the team to carry me out of the battlefield." "How have you been these years?" Hardy asked after they sat down. Major Lancer hesitated slightly. Shaking his head. "You should be able to tell, things haven''t been good." "After being injured, I was sent to a field hospital and took months to recover. But losing a leg meant I could never return to the unit." "After retiring and returning home, life dealt me another heavy blow. My wife had found a lover during my absence and insisted on divorcing me when she saw my disability. I tried to salvage the relationship, but to no avail. In the end, she left with our two children." "I lost a leg and couldn''t do regular work, not even in a factory. Eventually, I got a job as a warehouse keeper through a friend''s recommendation." "In that factory, I met someone else who had served in the Marine Corps, named Tommy. He came to me a few days ago, saying a friend asked him to come to Los Angeles, recruiting only military veterans." "Major, I assume you know what we''re up to. Are you prepared to join?" "After my divorce, I needed to pay child support every month to gain visitation rights with my kids. Without giving money, I wouldn''t even have the right to see them. I love them, very, very much." At this point, Lancer gritted his teeth forcefully. "I want to earn money to provide enough child support for them, and even give them a better life. I want to reclaim the dignity of being a father; I don''t care about anything else." Lancer looked at Hardy and said, "Hardy, could I ask you for a favor? I don''t have enough money right now. I want to give my children a better future, by sending them to a private school. the community schools where they live are dirty and messy and don''t have enough teachers, I don''t want my failure as a father to hinder their future." "No problem," Hardy agreed without any hesitation. Today was the weekend. Richard drove Lancer to the old town district. They stopped in front of a small courtyard. Lancer had purposely shaved and tidied himself up today, wearing a fitted suit. He looked much better overall. "Richard, please wait here for a moment." "You go in, I''ll listen to the radio in the car," Richard smiled. Lancer got out of the car, holding gifts for his children. Despite his limp, he walked to the door and pressed the doorbell. Before long, a woman in her thirties opened the door. There were bruises at the corners of the woman''s eyes. Even though she was covering them up with her hair, they were still visible. Lancer wondered to himself if she had been beaten by her current man again. If she was his wife and someone harmed his family like this, he would kill that bastard. But now, this woman has nothing to do with him. "I''ve come to see the children," Lancer said. The woman glanced at the man, feeling that he seemed different from before, then looked at the black sedan parked by the roadside. She turned back into the house and shouted, "Gina, Samantha, come out for a moment." Soon, two girls ran out of the house. Seeing Lancer, they squealed with excitement, "Daddy! Daddy''s here!" The elder daughter Gina was 12 years old this year, while the younger Samantha was only 9. Samantha hugged Lancer''s neck and cooed, "Daddy, you haven''t visited us in so long." "I''m sorry, Daddy''s been busy lately." Lancer looked up at his ex wife and said, "Mary, it''s been a while since I''ve seen the kids. Today, I''d like to take them to the playground for the day. What do you think?" The woman looked at her two daughters who looked excited and eager to try, and nodded in agreement. The two girls shouted excitedly. "Gina, Samantha, bring your backpacks." Lancer said. "Okay daddy." The two girls ran back to the house excitedly to pack their things. Lancer and his ex wife stood at the door, silent for a while. Finally, the woman looked at Lancer and asked, "Lancer, did you bring the child support money?" "I did." Lancer took out $200 from his pocket and handed it to the woman, who quickly took it and held it in her hand. "Mary, I want to discuss something with you. I want to send the kids to a private boarding school," Lancer said. "A private school? Where would you get the money for an expensive private school?" Mary frowned. "I''ll cover the expenses." "Well, well, has Mr. Lancer struck it rich?" A mocking voice came from inside the house. Shortly after, a thin man walked out, stood beside Mary, and placed his arm around her shoulder, his face carrying a sneering smirk as he looked at Lancer. "Sending them to a private school? Do you know how much that costs? With just your warehouse job, can you afford it? If you''re really wealthy now, why not increase the child support? The two kids are growing up, and expenses are increasing. It''s time to pay more for their upbringing."