Downtown Brooklyn, New York.
A magnificent new bank officially opened its doors to the roar of firecrackers. Countless tycoons and high-society luminaries arrived at the scene. Dressed in a sharp, impeccably tailored suit, Liu Ren wore a bright smile as he welcomed each guest who had come to show their support.
Amid the blinding flashes of press cameras, Little John took Liu Ren by the hand. "Congratulations, Liu!"
"Thank you!"
Smiling warmly at Little John, Liu Ren posed for photographs with representatives from the various financial consortiums arriving one after another. This was also an indirect demonstration of who truly backed New State Bank.
As Liu Ren turned to discuss something with A Chao behind him, Roosevelt arrived on his crutches, accompanied by his wife.
Beaming, Liu Ren stepped forward to greet them. "Oh, look who's here—our shareholder representative!"
Hearing this, Roosevelt clasped a broad hand over Liu Ren's shoulder. "We owe much of this to you as well, Liu!"
"The feeling is entirely mutual!"
Liu Ren gave Roosevelt a meaningful look, unable to resist teasing him. After all, many of the political strings had been pulled by the Roosevelt family, down to securing naval defense expenditures.
The two exchanged knowing grins, warmly shaking hands for the cameras.
Stepping into the bank lobby, the crowd could not help gasping in awe. The interior decor was breathtaking beyond words.
Inviting everyone to tour the building, Liu Ren busied himself inside while Lauren helped introduce key connections. In New State Bank, Liu Ren was the undisputed majority shareholder with a sixty-two percent stake. Lauren held around thirteen percent, while the Roosevelt family held a modest ten percent. The remainder belonged to Morgan and Rockefeller—though their shares were purely symbolic purchases, intended merely to cement their ties with Liu Ren.
"Good lord! Is all of that gold?"
"Holy shit, how much money is that?"
"A sea of glittering gold! This is absolute madness!"
The police officers maintaining order at the entrance struggled to hold back the throngs. The crowd of onlookers was simply overwhelming, especially at a moment when cash and bullion were being brought into the vaults.
When nearly a dozen Mack trucks began unloading the gold, people finally realized the staggering scale of New State Bank's wealth. Watching Lauren beam with pride as he opened one of the crates, lifting two gold ingots into the air where they gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight, the onlookers went even wilder.
Standing beside Liu Ren, A Chao turned his head and murmured, "Didn't you tell him most of that stuff is fake?"
"Have you lost your mind? With our stature, do we need to deceive people with fakes? The whole damn batch is fake!"
Liu Ren shot A Chao an exasperated, disdainful glare.
A Chao's eyes went wide with shock. "Wait, Boss, you even swapped out the display gold for fakes?"
"Are you dense? That's real bullion, not gravel. What if someone stole it? I had the real stuff locked into the vault long ago!"
Liu Ren had no intention of being foolish enough to leave genuine gold sitting out for show. If some reckless fool tried to pull something, who would swallow the loss? So long as every single bar was fake, it wouldn't count as fraud!
*Panther Head: Right you are! If no money changes hands, it doesn't count as visiting a brothel!*
While Liu Ren basked in cheers and applause, a very different, dangerous scene was unfolding elsewhere in Brooklyn.
Outside a private villa, a black sedan came to a stop.
The car door swung open, and a man in a black short coat stepped out, a prominent scar etched near the corner of his mouth. Treading forward in layered cloth shoes, Han Hu gave a curt nod. The men beside him instantly kicked the front door off its hinges.
The occupant inside caught the commotion and frantically snatched a revolver from his nightstand. But before he could even reach the bedroom door, gunfire erupted outside.
*Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat-tat!*
A hail of bullets ripped through the wooden door, sending splinters flying. Han Hu drew two grenades from his coat and hurled them into the room. A deafening blast instantly shook the villa to its foundations.
Walking inside, Han Hu looked down at the mangled corpse on the floor, calmly drew a list from his pocket, and crossed off the name.
Yet as they stepped out of the villa, a Black passerby happened to stroll out of a nearby alley and froze dead in his tracks. He had never imagined stumbling upon armed mobsters right around the corner.
"Hey, freeze!"
A sharp shout rang out. Two patrolling detectives spotted the scene, barking commands with hands hovering over their holsters, ready to draw.
Looking terrified between both sides, the Black bystander threw his hands high in the air and hit the pavement flat on his belly. In this era, a detective wouldn't give him any chance to explain; they'd draw like quick-draw gunslingers and empty their magazines.
Glancing toward the detective a short distance away, Han Hu frowned, then called out, "Sean?"
"Oh, fuck! Han? What are you doing here?"
Hearing Han Hu's voice, Detective Sean quickly raised a hand, stopping his partner from drawing. Walking over, Sean glanced at the roaring flames engulfing the villa. "What's all this?"
"Work."
Han Hu offered an indifferent shrug and pulled out a cigarette, handing one to Sean.
A match was struck. Sean took a drag and smiled. "Care to hit that new bar together next time? Plenty of gorgeous girls there."
"We'll see. I'm going to be tied up for the next few days."
Han Hu gave an apologetic shrug, then tilted his head in a signal. One of his men immediately drew a thick envelope from inside his coat and handed it to Sean.
Expertly tossing the envelope to his partner, Sean glanced down at the Black man who had witnessed the entire scene. A ruthless smirk crept across his face.
"No, no, no! I don't know anything, I didn't see anything, please don't!"
Terror overwhelmed the man as he realized the danger he was in. But Sean gave him no opportunity to plead. He raised his service weapon and squeezed the trigger without hesitation.
*Bang! Bang! Bang!*
Having dispatched the witness, Sean arched an eyebrow. "Well now, looks like we've found our arson suspect."
"Robbery and murder," Han Hu corrected with a knowing grin. "The fellow inside was blown to pieces."
"You sure know how to make my job harder. Fine, get out of here. I'll take care of the rest."
Sean offered a breezy smile.
"See you around."
Han Hu turned, climbed into the sedan, and sped off toward their next destination. There was still plenty of work left on tonight's roster.
Thanks to Liu Ren's past experience running couriers, the entire syndicate operated with ruthless efficiency. Anyone marked for elimination today would never live to see tomorrow. After all, once the sun came up, it became far too inconvenient to feed the sharks downstream in the Hudson River.
*The sharks: You guys are surprisingly considerate!*
"Detective Sean," the younger partner asked in bewilderment, "wasn't the guy in that villa connected to the Gatsby Group?"
The Gatsby Group was not an outfit to be crossed lightly. Just who was this Chinese mobster, and why was the detective on such familiar terms with him?
"Listen to me," Sean said, clapping a hand on his partner's shoulder with a chuckle. "If you want to stay alive and make money in Brooklyn, there's one rule you have to learn: never cross the Chinese. Especially the ones from Silver Rock Group. They run Brooklyn."
Sean had walked that same path once, bursting with youthful naivety and a sense of justice. But the veteran cops had taught him the very first rule of survival: when you're making money, don't pretend your hands are clean. Silver Rock Group was exceptionally generous. For the meager wage a cop earned each month, why throw your life away?
Chapter 41