Time flew by in the blink of an eye, and soon it was 1921.
The First World War had ended three years earlier, and following that incident, Robert had successfully won election as a state senator.
Nourished by the endless blood transfusions of the war, Silver Rock Group had long since grown into a colossal behemoth spanning all manner of armaments manufacturing. Over the years, Liu Ren had not been entirely free of trouble, but minor issues were easily smoothed over whenever Lauren stepped in, while thornier matters were settled through certain forceful measures. After all, Silver Rock Arms was no longer the small workshop that could only produce Garand rifles. Nowadays, they were fully capable of manufacturing every kind of artillery piece alongside countless heavy machine guns.
Al Capone, the underground mayor of Chicago, had put it quite well: submachine guns were no match for heavy machine guns. And as it happened, heavy machine guns were precisely what Liu Ren could produce.
Still, with the war over, the domestic arms trade had slumped somewhat, with sales largely confined to supplying the military. Most of Silver Rock Group's burgeoning wealth now came from dumping weapons across the African continent. Naturally, these were not top-of-the-line models, but rather surplus gear phased out by the military. This was a dangerous world, after all; if everyone else had guns and you didn't, wasn't that pitiful? Liu Ren's guiding principle was simply to ensure everyone enjoyed their own sense of security.
Lauren had initially struggled to understand Liu Ren's mad antics and warmongering fanaticism. But upon learning that Africa possessed immense mineral wealth, he had fallen silent—because he, too, loved war. With the entire Atlantic Ocean separating them, whatever bloodbath consumed Africa was none of their concern. After all, wasn't tribal warfare a game everyone knew how to play?
In Brooklyn, the seven-story brick building of the past had been replaced by a hundred-meter skyscraper. This was the headquarters of Silver Rock Group, its corporate emblem proudly displaying a silver stone impaled by a sharp sword and encircled by thorns.
Inside the top-floor executive office, Liu Ren puffed on a cigar, sporting a neat, trimmed beard as he gazed out over the city. Just then, A Chao walked in through the door and said, "There's trouble with our cargo ship in Sicily!"
"What?"
Liu Ren turned to A Chao in utter bewilderment, shock written across his face.
Prohibition had taken effect the previous year, and there was no way Liu Ren would pass up such a lucrative prize. He had long since established ties in France and Great Britain to open fresh channels for this new line of business. He had entrusted Sicily to Gatsby; Gatsby's unwavering loyalty over the years earned him a golden highway paved straight to the top.
"Gatsby says the locals don't seem keen on doing business with them," A Chao explained, spreading his hands helplessly. "Not only was the cargo we sent seized, but the locals even hijacked our ship!"
"Fucking backwater thugs!"
A vicious glint of murderous intent flashed in Liu Ren's yellow-brown eyes, his expression turning icy cold in an instant. After so many years of smooth sailing, he had never imagined that a bunch of Sicilian Mafia would dare seize his ship and his cargo. It wasn't about the money; it was about having his face trampled in the dirt.
Taking a deep breath, Liu Ren suppressed the fury burning inside him. "Tell our people to divert a ship from the French shipment and send it to Gatsby!"
A Chao nodded and turned to leave. Once he was gone, however, Liu Ren's gaze turned dark and profound. This matter was far from over.
***
At the Astor Estate in Manhattan, Lauren led an adorable young boy toward Liu Ren, his face brimming with adoring pride. "Liu, look! Schubert has already learned to say 'Father'! Good heavens!"
Seeing how Lauren had been reduced to a complete servant in front of his son, Liu Ren sighed. "Lauren, you can't spoil a child like that. You need to teach him to be independent, strong, and self-reliant!"
Schubert stared blankly at Liu Ren, somehow sensing a giant warning sign flashing across his own forehead.
"No, Liu, you're not a father yet, so you don't understand the feeling," Lauren protested at once. "He's my entire world!"
Spreading his hands nonchalantly, Liu Ren said, "How are the preparations for the bank coming along, partner? Right now, even if I buried my cash in the ground, I wouldn't know where to put it all!"
Seeing Liu Ren flaunting his wealth, Lauren couldn't help snapping, "Fuck, you goddamn bootlegger, you deserve the gallows!"
"Hahaha!"
Liu Ren chuckled at Lauren's outburst, stepping forward to throw an arm around his shoulder. "Partner, don't forget you have a share in this too!"
"Of course I know that, but I honestly never imagined people would go this crazy over liquor!" Lauren remarked, still unable to fathom it. It was just booze, wasn't it? Why were so many people willing to risk prison just to get a drink?
"Who knows?" Liu Ren shrugged. He had never been particularly interested in liquor himself; drinking too much impaired judgment. And above all, you couldn't drink a car while driving a bottle, and you certainly couldn't drive a bottle while drinking a car!
"Hey there, little man! Aren't you happy to see your uncles?"
Robert and Lundin walked in from outside, greeting everyone with broad smiles. Schubert ran forward happily to take a gift from Lundin's hands, grinning wide enough to show his sparse baby teeth.
After having a maid escort Schubert away, the men gathered in the study.
Straightening his suit jacket, Robert spoke up. "As far as the regulatory framework goes, I've pretty much ironed everything out on my end!"
Hearing the long-awaited good news, Liu Ren snapped his fingers. "Splendid! See, Robert, keeping it in your pants really does make you useful! Hahaha!"
Robert's mouth twitched, and he fell silent. Was that old blunder never going to be buried?
"Come on, Liu, don't be like that," Lundin chimed in with a grin. "Robert is still plenty sharp—under certain circumstances, of course!"
"Enough, you guys," Robert protested helplessly, spreading his hands. "I've been repenting for years!"
"Now that the legal groundwork is settled, it's time to make our real move," Liu Ren said, his eyes narrowing greedily. "After all, we have far more wealth than anyone could possibly imagine!"
Robbing a bank could never compare to owning one. Why bother sticking up vaults when he was already raking in thousands upon tens of thousands of dollars a minute? And why was that? Because in these times, bootlegging was more profitable than running a goddamn pharmacy!
Yet just as Liu Ren was busy transforming himself into a banker, Gatsby was already sinking deep into the tender embrace of his idealized dream girl. He had no inkling that in this game called love, he had been nothing more than a clown from the very beginning. His beloved Daisy cared only for money, with no room in her heart for so-called love.
That was precisely why Gatsby would ultimately end up a sacrificial pawn. From start to finish, it was an aristocratic game of class. Everyone who took part knew who Gatsby really was, yet they flocked to him for his money, only to vanish into thin air the moment he died.
If events followed their natural course, Gatsby would indeed end up taking the fall. But things were different now. Standing behind him was a monstrosity steadily evolving into a military-industrial complex and capital manager!
***
Liu Ren: *Your money is my money, and my money is still fucking my money! Got it?*
Zhang Cheng: *What the fuck are you blabbering about? If you've got a problem, take it up with my Thompson!*
Lu Yan: *Has your bank bought insurance yet?*
Chapter 35