A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 89 The Godfather (Part )

The setting sun shone through the gaps in the curtains, outlining a golden shear line that illuminated the dust and fell on his dark skin.

The man opened his eyes, and an illusory light mixed with thick colors bloomed in his pupils, then gradually faded away.

This is the manifestation of extraordinary characteristics.

After each promotion, the extraordinary characteristics expand exponentially, and the overflowing power is not so easy to control, so it always takes some time to readjust.

He lifted the soft long quilt sewn with magical bird feathers. The cold air brought out by the arcane magic circle was very strong. The two naked bodies sleeping on the bed couldn't help but tremble, and huddled together, covering their breasts.

This magic circle carved into the wall can block out the scorching summer heat and make the room as cool as autumn and winter. However, both its high cost and the cost of magic crystals for the operation of the magic circle are expenses that ordinary rich people can hardly afford.

The cold air brushed against the man's rock-hard muscles. He stood up from the bed, walked to the ground, picked up a bath towel and wrapped it around his waist.

The mattress was a luxurious, ultra-soft item, so soft that even the Princess and the Pea wouldn't feel a jolt of stiffness. It felt like slime, leaving no place for footholds. A normal person would struggle to maintain balance on such a mattress; a single step would sink them. But he walked with ease, his balance as precise as an eagle maintaining grace in a gust of wind. He landed without a sound, his presence blending seamlessly with the darkness.

The curtains were drawn, and the setting sun fell on him. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows was a messy city landscape. The dilapidated houses were pressed together like stacked cans in a garbage dump, making the entire mountain suffocate.

The floor where the room was located was five stories high, which was rare in Sewell. It was high enough for him to stand out among the countless low houses that were not exposed to the sun, overlooking the fairly decent apartment community on the mountainside, and even glimpsing the world on the top of the mountain bathed in magnificent light.

He casually picked up a bottle of wine from the table without even looking at what it was. He just shook it, and after making sure there was still liquid left, he poured it into his mouth.

The floor was covered in an artist's jungle-style rug, a luxury item purchased at a high price at a charity auction. It was stained with alcohol and filth, and the scattered sex toys and underwear made it clear what had happened the previous night. The room was filled with the smell of decay. He rinsed his mouth with alcohol and then spat it onto the floor.

Every extraordinary person has a unique way to fight against losing control, and his favorites are wine and sex.

This kind of life of dancing yangge every night and wanton indulgence was something I had never dared to imagine.

There was a slight movement behind him, and the sunlight inevitably woke up the beauty in bed. Turning back, he lowered his eyes and smiled.

The other person still sleeping in the bed was her mother.

He spat out the wine he used to rinse his mouth. This almost humiliating action made the bitch on the ground wag her tail and beg for mercy. She had been trained to be completely depraved.

The man sat down on the sofa in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, enjoying it with his eyes slightly narrowed.

After breaking through the second level, no matter what his fate, the extraordinary person's physical functions will far exceed those of ordinary humans. As long as he wants, he can even work all day long.

As the sun completely vanished behind the mountains, a dreamy night sky descended. It seemed like there had been some rain that afternoon, and even the sky over Seville was crystal clear. A band of aurora, gradating from dark blue to dark blue, could be clearly seen dangling over the city, like a grand curtain left behind by the gods.

The puppy licked the food clean. The man refused her idea of ​​going any further and went into the bathroom to clean himself.

Soon, a mature and graceful woman came in, gently took the towel and helped him wash.

This kind of meticulousness is something that my young daughter does not have.

Men don't like to make noise when taking a shower, so women are very well-behaved and don't do anything extra. A cold shower is his thinking time, and he often decides what he wants to do today in these ten minutes.

The arrival of night marks the end of the day, but for him, it is the beginning of the day.

The work of the underworld is often concentrated at night: buying and selling, revenge killings, negotiations, gambling, and nightclubs.
After showering, he walked to the mirror and looked at himself.

The three hideous scars were so eye-catching, extending from the arm to the left chest, just a few centimeters away from touching the heart, like claw marks left by the devil.

The woman brought the clothes and helped him put them on like she was serving an emperor. I wonder what the deputy director of law enforcement would think if he saw this scene he had never experienced before.

A primary silk evening shirt, an ivory single-breasted Naples jacket, and well-cut straight-leg trousers. Few black people would choose a full white outfit like him, as this would make the skin color look particularly eye-catching and out of place.

But he was different. He could pull off a white suit with a touch of class. His skin tone was much darker than the wheat or brown common among Westerners; it was a lustrous black, reminiscent of the profound sensation of looking at ink through a glass bottle.

In the eyes of white people in the South Continent, the skin color of people in the West Continent is often associated with barbarism or backwardness. Although people of higher social class are less likely to show this, their prejudice is often deeper, but it is only covered up by their upbringing.

But the two women from the southern continent in the room who claimed to be from the upper class truly loved him. What conquered them was not only his power and desire, but also his face full of wildness and mystery. He had a fatal charm that made people unable to stop.

The woman smeared spermaceti on his hair and combed it back into a slicked-back style, a hairstyle few men could pull off, but it looked incredibly natural to him.

They knelt naked on the ground, gently kissed the man's toes, and silently saw him out.

The fifth floor of the apartment was one of the man's residences, while the fourth floor was filled with countless artworks and expensive collectibles. These expensive items were piled up like garbage, simply covered with cloth to keep out the dust, as if they were not even worth viewing for him.

This was all a byproduct of cultivating good relations with high-ranking officials. If you simply put gold pounds in a sack, they probably wouldn't accept it. But if you bought their masterpieces out of admiration and praise, or helped circulate collections whose authenticity was unclear, then the money would be given away.

Gang management isn't just about violence; it involves the ways of the world. Before his arrival, no one in this city understood this, so fools always assumed that Golden Wind's rise in recent years was due to the support of some powerful figure, speculating with self-righteousness and uncertainty.

But in fact, there is no big shot behind it. It is just a young man who knows how society works very well and creates a business with a few ruthless small people.

Noisy sounds came from downstairs. As the man walked down the stairs, he shouted "Good evening, boss" in a majestic voice.

The ringing of the telephone, the hurried footsteps of clerks, the clacking of abacus, the lifting and dropping of pens. I am afraid that contrary to what many people have guessed, the largest black market trader in Ashwell is not backed by a group of vicious gangsters, but an office like this one that looks like an ordinary company.

This place seems to be busier than ordinary companies, and you can sometimes see men with tattoos on their backs passing by at the entrance and exit.

"Boss, this is today's report."

After he sat down, a young man handed him three thick stacks of accounts.

He has brown skin, wears glasses, and his face is scarred by arrow wounds from the war. Like millions of refugees from the Western Continent, he is a peasant born in poverty.

But the bodyguards surrounding the man respected him very much and let him pass without asking any questions.

The man opened the report, glanced at it briefly, and then turned to the end.

Incoming and outgoing accounts, reconciliation, notes that need attention, important items of goods, and even a line chart for easy comparison.
It is hard to imagine that this professional report was created by a gangster.

As the largest trade port in the southern continent, Aishiweier handles hundreds of airships every day, year-round. This huge volume of goods naturally breeds a huge space for smuggling - luxury goods, tobacco, alcohol, goods, arcane instruments, extraordinary materials, and even human trafficking.
All you have to do is bribe the government workers who conduct random inspections at the airport, and then act within the limits that the masters can tolerate, and the smuggling trade can be carried out with full force.

The man never took too much, he knew clearly that the bulk of the profits from smuggling belonged to the Eastville councilors or local forces, he only took a very small portion, which was more like a service fee, allowing the people on the top of the mountain to count the money without any worries, so the Eastville dignitaries were also happy to give him business and share a share of the profits.

But if they were here and could see the long list of thrilling numbers on the report, they would probably know how terrifying the profits would be when adding each mouthful of soup together.

The man's eyes were most focused on the two items "arcane materials" and "magic devices". From time to time, he would circle out some goods that were too dangerous, send them back or arrange for people to seal them up, and then hand them over to the government as political achievements.

He knew very well that if he wanted to keep the smuggling business going in Ashwell for a long time, he must not touch the sensitive nerves of the college.

After spending about half an hour dealing with the black market trade, the man finally asked, "Hughes, is there any solution for the gemstone issue?"

This report was written by Hughes.

Hughes graduated from the Sultan National College, the only university in the Western Continent. He was a top student in the mathematics department, graduating first in his class. However, due to his lack of connections, he was assigned by the King to the front lines as a quartermaster, facing the brutal warfare. He was lucky enough to escape after only six months of service. After many twists and turns, he arrived in Eswell and was accepted by the Golden Wind.

Hughes worked incredibly hard, and his contributions to the near-monopoly of Golden Wind's black market trade within just three years were invaluable, demonstrating his immense capabilities. But now, he faltered, unsure how to respond.

"No, it's not ideal. The high-purity gemstones that each company has are either out of stock or priced ridiculously high. Even so, they'll be snapped up by those arcanists, who have plenty of money... We have to consider the cost, so it's hard to compete."

The man frowned slightly, but did not blame his subordinates for their poor performance.

The minerals of the Northern Continent account for nearly 50% of the total mineral reserves in Taimulan, of which high-quality minerals even account for 70%. However, in recent years, the Northern Continent has been blocked by the Sea of ​​Mist, and the price of high-purity jewelry has skyrocketed, reaching the point where supply exceeds demand.

The Western Continent can produce some, but it is almost monopolized by the Clock Tower Bank. The Arcane Clan has an insatiable demand for gems. It is difficult for a gang to reach the war-torn areas across the ocean, and they can only pick up bargains from various black market merchants.

In the southern continent, Britain, the neighboring country of Ashwell, also has some mineral resources, but they have to supply the academy and meet the jewelry consumption of the upper class of the entire southern continent. There is no worry about selling them. They are one of the main sources of income for the British royal family and rarely flow into the black market.

The fact is that no matter how talented Hughes is, it is difficult for him to get enough high-quality jewelry.

"I know it's easier said than done."

"Where can I find a way to enter the Northern Continent? That's the Sea of ​​Mist. Do you think the extraordinary people above the Holy Land are cabbages?"

"What do you mean by little fairy? Fuck you, how am I expressing my emotions? I'm solving a problem."

"Then I'll obey you. You're right. If you're so awesome, why don't you do it yourself?"

The expression on the man's face changed from calm to angry, and he mumbled strange words.

The subordinates are used to it. The boss often talks to himself like this. He says he has "schizophrenia" and everything will be fine.

Sure enough, after about a minute, the man returned to normal.

He stood up, pressed the report against Hughes' chest, and said, "Then buy it at any price," before heading downstairs. The second floor housed a black clinic staffed by doctors and a lounge for the core members of the Golden Wind.

The first floor and the three huge underground floors are the most upscale casinos in the entire city of Xiweier and the headquarters of Golden Wind.

The clinking of chips and the roar of cheers mingled, the atmosphere ripped the roof off the table. The Golden Wind Casino had only been open for two years, but it had already become a gambling mecca. There were many novel games on offer, like baccarat, slot machines, and roulette.
Because it is much more interesting and exciting than traditional dice gambling, some gamblers even come all the way from Eastville. As long as the chips exchanged reach a certain amount, Golden Wind will provide a pick-up and drop-off service to ensure their safety in the chaotic Westville.

You can even see some tourists from other countries. These ways of playing have only been around for a year or two, but they are already showing signs of becoming popular in the mainland.

Further down, there are new types of ring matches that are different from traditional black boxing betting. Boxers perform ring fighting in an extremely exaggerated form, and then lead the betting to more exciting beast fighting or human-animal death match. Even though a high entrance ticket price is charged, it is still full every night.

The man had no intention of patrolling his territory. He just walked through the crowd in a low-key manner and headed out the door.

The noise came at an inopportune moment.

Regardless of whether they won or lost money, gamblers gathered at a gambling table, surrounded by a crowd, watching the excitement excitedly.

The man stopped and the bodyguards behind him immediately stepped forward to clear a path for him.

The gamblers who were pushed away were about to curse, but when they saw the tattoos on the faces of these people from the Western Continent, they immediately booed and obediently made way.

Those were all tattoos of serious war criminals. These elite fighters of Golden Wind had killed countless people on the battlefields of the Western Continent and were captured by the enemy country. But somehow they were able to save their lives and appear here unscathed.

The man walked over calmly and saw his second-in-command, Borna, who had a conspicuous scar on his bald head, grabbing a well-dressed young man like a chicken.

"You're out of luck."

In his other large hand, he clutched a pair of glasses, the end of the frame secretly inlaid with a small magic crystal. If the onlooker was at the right angle, they would notice that the world through the glasses was transparent, and they could see through the cards and see the numbers behind them.

The young man kicked his legs in fear, his face turned red as liver, but he couldn't say a word.

Cheating is a serious accusation in any casino, especially in a large casino with a long history like Golden Wind. They would not make such a claim without sufficient evidence.

Anyone with a discerning eye could tell there was something wrong with the glasses. Most people's expressions were one of gloating—according to the rules of Golden Wind, the punishment for cheating depended on the amount of money involved, ranging from chopping off a finger to beheading.

After seeing the cheater's face clearly, the man frowned slightly.

He walked forward, and the dealer, who was dressed coolly, quickly stood up, bowed his head and said hello, "Boss." Everyone then realized who this young man in white was, and they immediately fell silent. The atmosphere suddenly became so quiet that it was a little scary.

"How much did he win?" the man asked calmly.

"Forty-forty pounds," the dealer replied after a nervous calculation. "He bet on a leopard, full bet, twenty times the payout."

The man looked down and saw that in the "Leopard" betting area, which had the highest odds and the lowest probability, there was a pile of twenty-silver coin chips that were pieced together here and there, as if all his belongings were placed on it.

"Hey, Boss, how about those two girls?"

Borna was already in his fifties, yet calling a young man who looked to be in his early twenties "Boss" seemed perfectly natural. He said with a cheerful smile:

"Ashley is so old and has given birth to a child, so she must be very loose. You won't ignore her in front of her daughter, right? Be careful that she will complain to her husband--"

Then he started laughing to himself, which was extremely vulgar.

The man chuckled.

"I went through the back door, it's not used by anyone, so it's okay."

The laughter stopped abruptly, and Borna looked at him with jealousy and envy, as if asking, "How can you, a young man, eat so well?"

"Let him go."

As the man spoke, he gathered the chips on the table.

"Boss, he's cheating. According to the rules, his eyes should be gouged out and his hands and feet should be chopped off." Borna shook his glasses in his hand. "We caught him red-handed."

For every ten pounds earned from cheating, one limb would be chopped off. If there was nothing left to chop off after fifty pounds, the cheat would be beheaded. This had always been the case.

"Let it go."

"." Borna frowned and let go of the cheater who was about to be suffocated by him. He fell to the ground, gasping for breath, his face full of panic.

The man took a basket and filled it with forty gold pounds and two golden chips that symbolized "ten gold pounds."

"Sorry, I misunderstood you. This is what you won. And..." The man stuffed the golden chips into his arms, "This is your compensation."

"what--"

The young man knelt on the ground, gasping for breath. Seeing someone supporting him, his fear quickly turned into a look of dissatisfaction. He had no idea what it meant to be high and mighty: "You are wronging me, you..."

Just as he was about to arrogantly ask Borna to apologize to him, he met the man's cold gaze, and the words were involuntarily stuck in his throat. His neck shrank, and he stammered, not daring to say anything else.

"We've won so much, let's call it a night."

The man patted his shoulder and said, "Cash in your chips, and we'll arrange for someone to take you back, okay?"

"Boss, I know he's Judge Evans's youngest son. But that old man is notoriously unkind and he's long since severed ties with that kid. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come to us to cheat for money."

Borna and the man walked in a deserted alley, heading towards the outermost area of ​​the city.

"If he was valuable, I wouldn't be doing this. I've already tolerated his cheating twice, and now he's using us as a bank to withdraw money. Did you really think you couldn't catch him—"

"Judge Evans knows our rules."

The man didn't care about the lost sixty pounds. Instead, he smiled and said, "He'll return the money tomorrow. No matter how much we cut ties, he's still his son. He's smart and can figure out that it's not a good idea for us to let him go. It won't be long before he's back gambling again and will cheat again. If nothing unexpected happens, Judge Evans should stop by to discuss education issues."

Borna was stunned. You know, Golden Wind had tried to bribe Judge Evans time and again, but Judge Evans always hated the gang and did not show any mercy to those who deserved heavy sentences, and had many brothers in the gang imprisoned.

"Let him talk if he wants to. Just agree to whatever he wants. Don't put in any conditions. He'll release her on his own after a while." The man said calmly, "I don't think he'll bother us again."

".You should be the boss."

Borna was amazed.

"There's another thing. An informant reported that someone from the academy went to Branson's house tonight. I don't know what they talked about, but it lasted a long time, and both the host and the guests were very happy when they left."

"."

The man paused, then walked forward.

He seemed to have decided something.

"Send those two guys to the police station tomorrow and teach them what to say and what not to say tonight."

Borna's eyes widened.

"Will there be any trouble over there, Prince?"

"What's the fuss?" the man's tone was filled with deep disgust. "I've told you countless times: rob, but don't kill. He insisted on sending those test subjects who have a deep hatred for the master over there as a childish protest against me."

"Now that it's a big deal, they're investigating everything, and I have to clean up his mess. He's completely denying it, saying that the five of them just don't follow orders, so he has to protect them. Otherwise, who in this vagrant government will be willing to follow him in the future, and how can he even sit on the throne?"

The man snorted coldly and kicked open the sewer entrance in front of him.

This is one of the inspection ports of Eastwell's underground drainage system. However, due to the inaction of the Alexander family, it has long lost its function. The inner passage is almost blocked by silt, forming a dark room with a foul smell.

"Send someone to Congressman Reeve and have him convince the parliament to tell him that if he still wants to be a congressman, he must help us honestly. In return, the Yangen Nomadic Government will fully support him in the election at the end of the year."

Borna did not follow him in.

“Will the vagrant government cooperate?”

"of course not."

The man looked at the faint blue fluorescence in the air and walked into the darkness alone.

"But I will reason with them. People understand reason, don't they?"

(End of this chapter)