North American riot police: Start by arresting P. Diddy!

Chapter 270 Council Meeting
The hotel's reception room had been cleared out, with only a dozen or so sofas arranged in a circle for representatives from various factions to sit on.

This time, in addition to the most powerful families in the High Table Council, the other council member families also sent representatives, and all of them gathered at the Continental Hotel in New York within just two days.

Winston, the usually unassuming old fox, fully demonstrated his connections and prestige within the High Table through this incident.

It should be noted that several of these families are sworn enemies, with past grievances and present feuds.

If they had met elsewhere, they probably would have drawn their guns on each other long ago.

Tonight, although there were still verbal disputes, everyone maintained a facade of restraint, and no one actually resorted to violence.

In no time, the once empty reception room was packed with people.

These council members did not come alone; each of them was accompanied by at least a dozen fully armed bodyguards, who stood behind their boss with cold expressions, scanning their competitors around them with hostile eyes.

Fortunately, the room was spacious enough, otherwise it really wouldn't have been able to accommodate so many people for a "meeting".

The entire meeting room was completely silent; no one initiated a conversation.

They were either smoking cigars or closing their eyes to rest with blank expressions; the atmosphere was so heavy it was almost suffocating.

Fortunately, Winston's appearance soon broke the somber atmosphere.

The old man was wearing a well-tailored black overcoat, and his gray hair was neatly combed back.

Although his face is covered with wrinkles, his well-defined features and upright posture still reveal the charm he had in his youth; calling him a handsome older man is no exaggeration.
He smiled and nodded to everyone present. Just as he was about to sit down, the representative of the Tarasov family impatiently asked, "Winston, you've gathered so many of us together, yet you're so late. That's not like you."

Winston glanced at the man, who was as big as a polar bear, his expression slightly complicated: "Sorry, I was held up by some things."

Everyone present was sharp-witted and observant, so Winston's slightly unusual behavior naturally did not escape their notice.

Everyone stared intently at the old man, as if trying to figure out what he was up to by daring to gather so many council members and families together.

Winston, with a cigar between his fingers, remained silent, not even lifting an eyelid to face the scrutinizing gazes of the crowd, as if he were waiting for someone.

But his composure doesn't mean everyone else can remain calm.

Tarasov's representative scoffed, "You said on the phone that all the hotels across North America, including Canada, in New York, Los Angeles, Houston, Mexico City, Vancouver, and other continental cities, had already chosen their elder statesmen. Now that we're all here, shouldn't you reveal your answer?"

Upon hearing this, representatives from both the Amora and Adela families stared intently at Winston, awaiting his response.

Yes, Winston's special status at the High Table and his ability to gather so many feuding families in such a tense situation stemmed from his control over hotels across North America.

Even during the elders' lifetime, these Continental Hotels were centered around New York, not only because of the historical heritage and geographical advantages of the New York Continental Hotels, but also because of Winston's political acumen and personal charisma.

Although the old man acted harmless and even somewhat obsequious in front of Luo Xia.

But his true strength and shrewdness are far beyond that of an ordinary hotel manager.

Winston was the first manager of the Continental Hotel in New York since its inception, a position he held for decades.

Even after the elders had passed away, he remained firmly in control of the hotel.

This time, he successfully gathered these forces together under the pretext of "unifying the stance of hotels across North America and jointly promoting new elders."

"Winston, what do you mean by this?"

Seeing that he remained silent, the others finally realized that something was wrong.

The representative of the Amora family, a Mafia family, suddenly stood up, leaning on his cane, and coldly questioned, "Old friend, what tricks are you playing?"

The others also drew their guns, ready to fight at the slightest provocation.

However, Winston remained unfazed by the dark muzzles of guns, standing as still as a statue. Even Charon, the hotel receptionist standing next to him, maintained a professional smile, showing no signs of fear or retreat.

This unusual composure left the board members bewildered.

You know, although this old fellow is highly respected at the high table, he is usually very shrewd and diplomatic. When did he become so cold and silent?
Winston paused for a moment before finally speaking slowly: "To be honest, I was coerced into inviting all the board members to the Continental Hotel in New York."

"who is it?"

A Middle Eastern man questioned Winston sharply, his eyes glaring coldly at him, as if a single wrong word from him would splatter blood and unleash a massacre.

Amora said in a deep voice, "You are a member of the High Table. Threatening you is equivalent to threatening us. With so many council members here today, what do you have to be afraid of? Speak freely."

Winston suddenly smiled and said meaningfully, "To be honest, I've had many grievances and resentments towards this man who threatened me. Even before you arrived, I thought he was courting death. He's already a wanted criminal by the U.S. federal government, yet he continues to provoke various forces without any regard for his own safety."

He shook his head and sighed to himself.

Upon hearing this, all the board members showed a mocking expression.

According to Winston, this man was simply arrogant and ignorant. He not only offended the United States government, but also dared to provoke the High Table. He had offended both the underworld and the legitimate world. What else could he be but courting death?
However, several astute board members noticed something amiss.

Wanted by the US federal government and repeatedly provoking the High Table, causing a huge disaster... This description sounds so familiar!
Before they could figure out who it was, Winston suddenly changed his tone, his accusatory tone turning into fervent praise.

"But after getting to know him, I discovered that he possessed extraordinary courage and strategy. The amount of money on his wanted list by the U.S. federal government was unprecedented. No criminal had ever rendered the entire country's security agencies helpless like him. Even so, he not only did not disappear, but became more and more courageous, and even built a huge underground force."

Winston flicked his cigar and said meaningfully, "You may think I'm joking, but I can tell you all with certainty that the power he has built far exceeds that of the entire High Table. If he wanted to, he could wipe out all of you here, along with your families, in less than three days."

"therefore--"

He suddenly stood up, his gaze sweeping over everyone with intense intensity: "I believe he is the best candidate for the position of Elder of the High Table!"

"what?!"

As soon as this statement came out, the whole audience was in an uproar.

Everyone suddenly realized what was happening, and they all slammed their fists on the table and stood up, glaring angrily.

It turns out that Winston gathered them not to use the Continental Hotels Group as leverage to support a candidate, but to forcibly nominate an outsider!
"Old man."

Tarasov's representative, his face grim, said in a cold voice, "I came all the way from Moscow to keep this appointment because of your high reputation, and this is the first thing you do? I think you're tired of living and want to get your ashes sooner!"

Not only him, but everyone else present also exuded murderous intent, their eyes devoid of any respect, only filled with icy killing intent.

Only the old godfather of the Amora family of the Mafia had a furrowed brow and seemed to be deep in thought.

Winston's description reminded him of a terrifying young man.

The two major Mafia factions were wiped out because of that man's intervention, leaving only the Amora family alive. Thinking of this, the over-eighty-year-old Godfather, who needed a cane to stand, felt a chill and silently took a few steps back, shielding the other directors in front of him.

Almost no one present noticed Amora's unusual behavior, except for a woman with black tattoos on her face and a sharp demeanor who keenly sensed his retreat.

She approached Amora discreetly and asked in a low voice, "Sir, do you know who Winston is talking about?"

Amora gave her a meaningful look, his gaze lingering on the distinctive black markings on her face for a few more seconds.

This woman is named Lamar, and she is the underground queen of the 13th arrondissement of France.

In that slum abandoned by the government and lacking in resources, she controlled the entire area's drug trade and underground order with an iron fist.

As the first female godfather in the history of "Blockades of Violence," she was also the most powerful one.

That's why it was exceptionally admitted to the High Table a few years ago.

Of course, the reason Amora cared about her was not because this woman had any powerful influence in the French underworld, but simply because Rama was actually their Mafia's agent in France.

Without his support, Rama would never have been able to eliminate all his rivals in the violent neighborhood, let alone become a council member.

In short, they are allies.

Amora nodded slightly, her expression grave as she whispered, "It's not certain yet, but if it really is that person, you must remain calm. He's on a completely different level from us."

"that person?"

Rama stroked his chin thoughtfully, lost in thought.

Meanwhile, Tarasov and the others also realized something was amiss and stopped shouting and cursing.

Winston's high regard for a stranger as an elder suggests either that he has Alzheimer's and is completely senile, or that the person possesses overwhelming power and perhaps has an unfathomable background.

"Enough, stop with the mystery," Tarasov said coldly. "Just let him out and we'll find out who he is. I want to see who's more qualified to sit in the elder's seat than us."

As he spoke, the burly man patted the pistol at his waist in a show of defiance: "But I must warn you, Winston, if you ever try to abuse your power and put up a proxy to compete with me for the position of elder, I will kill you, whether it's you or the person you recommend!"

Winston gave him a deep look, already sentencing the Russian to death in his heart.

He said no more, got up, opened the conference room door himself, and walked into the room opposite.

The door was ajar, and all that could be heard were the hushed conversations inside.

"Really? They all disagree?"

"No, no, no, not all of them. Only the few companies I mentioned to you before have some opinions. The rest are waiting and seeing."

"Can't you handle this by yourself?"

"Uh this"

"Ugh, this is such a hassle."

The words fell.

The people in the reception room had different expressions and looked at each other in bewilderment.

Having been at the High Table for so long, the last person they knew who commanded such deference from Winston was apparently an elder who was already dead.

Just as they held their breath in anticipation, the door opposite them suddenly opened gently from the inside, and then a man in a red leather jacket appeared before them with a composed gait.

When everyone saw who it was, they were all stunned, then gasped in shock, as if facing a formidable enemy!

What the F*ck?!
Rorschach Butcher?!
When Tarasov, who was at the front, saw that the person who came was Rorschach, he felt a tightness in his chest and instinctively drew the pistol from his waist, staring at the other person with wide eyes in disbelief.

Not only him, but everyone present looked as if they had seen a ghost.

They had considered who the mysterious figure Winston was referring to might be, even speculating that he might be a spokesperson sent by a major Eastern power, which was why Winston was so wary of him.

But no one expected it to be Rorschach Mare Fak Butcher!
After the initial shock came a deep sense of apprehension!
Almost all the bodyguards immediately shielded their bosses behind them, and dozens of gun barrels were pointed at the dangerous figure in front of them!
"Ooh ooh ooh"

Rorschach exaggeratedly raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Everyone, calm down, be careful not to accidentally cause a firefight."

He said in a flippant tone, "I'm risking being hunted down and killed by the whole world to have a heart-to-heart talk with you all. Is there any need to be so enthusiastic right from the start?"

He wore a playful smile, and although he raised his hands and looked harmless, no one present was naively letting their guard down.

Tarasov's sharp gaze swept over Rorschach, focusing on checking the weapons he carried on his waist and legs. Only after confirming that this dangerous individual was indeed unarmed did his tense nerves relax slightly.

"Hmph!" he shouted angrily. "Rorschach! You haven't settled the score for killing the elder in Panama yet, and instead of hiding overseas, you dare to swagger out to the Continental Hotel in New York!"

Upon hearing this, Amora broke out in a cold sweat and shrank back even further.

To everyone's surprise, Rorschach was not angry at all. Instead, he looked at the Russian man, who was over two meters tall and as strong as an elite nanobot, with great interest and asked, "I suddenly remembered, what did you say to Winston just now?"

He completely ignored the dozens of gun barrels pointed at him, swaggered up to Tarasov, and squinted his eyes: "You said you wanted to kill me?"

Rorschach pointed to his forehead: "Come on, shoot here."

He said seriously, "Just pull the trigger, and the federal billion-dollar bounty is yours. Come on! Shoot! You don't dare?! Are you Russians just all talk and no action?!"

Tarasov's face was ashen, and his hand holding the gun trembled slightly.

As a powerful oligarch, he had never suffered such humiliation before. He was so angry that the veins on his forehead bulged and his fingers trembled.

Under the shocked gazes of the entire audience, he stared intently at Luo Xia's mocking eyes, gritted his teeth, and pulled the trigger hard!
Kill it, kill it!
He wanted to see if this terrorist's head was harder than a bullet!

However, a strange scene happened.

His body suddenly froze on the spot as if out of control, his arm turned uncontrollably, and the gun barrel actually pointed at his own temple!
Not only Tarasov, but all the directors and bodyguards who had pointed their guns at Rorschach involuntarily turned their guns on themselves, like puppets on strings.

Facing the terrified looks on everyone's faces, Rorschach shrugged indifferently and sneered, "Winston was wrong just now. If I wanted to kill you all, I wouldn't need three days. Three seconds would be enough!"

(End of this chapter)