Siheyuan, Shazhu: I have both parents in this life

Chapter 271 Real Money Breaks the Hidden Arrow

The two met with He Yuzhu, and He Yuzhu made it very clear that they had to win the project.

TACO's counterattack came quickly.

The following day, several New York newspapers published articles such as "Offshore Capital Takes Over Bankrupt Builder, Could Komodor Become the Next Unfinished Project?" and "Mysterious 'Grand Hyatt': An Inexperienced Adventurer?" which exaggerated the bankruptcy history and legacy issues of Cornerstone Construction, questioning whether its technical capabilities and management chaos would be repeated in the new project.

Then, influenced by the TACO family, architectural "experts" repeatedly emphasized the hellish technical difficulty of the Komodoro renovation (especially the 500-meter super high-rise) in hearings and columns, questioning whether "a team that has just gone bankrupt and restructured and whose core members may have been lost" could be competent.

At the meeting, some union leaders also publicly expressed their "deep concern," worrying that the new owners of "Rock Rock" were unfamiliar with New York's strict union rules and labor agreements, which could lead to disputes, strikes, or even safety incidents.

Faced with the overwhelming offensive, Watson and Wilson's team immediately launched a counterattack.

Watson held a press conference, acknowledging the acquisition but emphasizing that it was a "strategic restructuring."

The company announced that it will retain and strengthen its core technical staff; inject capital to repay historical debts; introduce top international construction management consulting firms (Turner Construction and AECOM) as project management partners to provide authoritative endorsement and full-process guarantee; and change its name to "Junyue Construction" to sever ties with the past.

Then they flaunted their wealth in front of the media to prove they had the ability to do this.

Next, Watson personally visited various labor unions, promising that if the bid was successful, a "Project Labor Agreement" would be signed during recruitment; all workers would be registered workers from local New York labor unions; all labor laws, wage and benefit standards would be strictly adhered to; and a joint safety committee with union participation would be established. This directly dispelled the unions' doubts; legal documents are more powerful than any verbal promise.

Of course, what happens outside is their business. The municipal government still needs to hold a bidding and review meeting. After all, there was only one company to choose from before, but now that there is competition, the process must be followed.

At the bidding meeting, the TACO family revised their proposal, but it was still far less than the Grand Hyatt's offer. Even though TACO brought out his best speaking skills, the Grand Hyatt still won in the end.

The mayor's representative made the decision on the spot, and the contract signing process began after the bidding meeting.

The TACO family's quiet exit is not only a failure for TACO himself, but also a failure for the entire Root family.

Meanwhile, He Yuzhu was in his office reviewing reports on the first batch of technology acquisition targets (several endangered aircraft parts suppliers with core patents).

Twenty days after the contract was signed, a grand groundbreaking ceremony was held on the ruins of the Komodor Hotel.

With a broad smile, the mayor wielded a brand-new shovel tied with a red ribbon, symbolically shoveling the first spadeful of soil, while flashbulbs on camera kept going off.

Richard Watson, as CEO of Grand Hyatt Hotels Corporation, delivered a passionate speech on behalf of the company, outlining a grand blueprint for a future 500-meter landmark to rise and reshape the New York skyline.

Wilson, dressed in a suit and tie, stood beside Watson with a professional smile on his face.

He Yuzhu had no interest in appearing in the spotlight of North American reporters.

He stood on the roof of a tall building in the distance, looking down at the construction site through binoculars.

After the ceremony, Wilson called.

"Boss, the ceremony went very smoothly, the mayor was very satisfied, and the media response was enthusiastic."

"I saw it. We can't be careless about the follow-up matters. If we're going to do it, we must do it well, and we must keep our promises. By the way, how was Watson's performance?"

“I know Watson is very professional and created a great atmosphere on set. He’s a good professional manager,” Wilson replied.

"Okay, you can stay with him for a while longer and then go about your own business. Let him do it."

"Yes."

"Security needs to be strengthened after construction begins, especially at night."

"Is the boss worried?"

"Didn't you tell me that TACO's assistant had close ties to the Mafia?!" (This isn't something I made up.)

“Yes, we’ve seen them in court quite a few times. They really do take action. This is a project signed by the city government.”

"What would you do if the cake was right in front of you but you couldn't eat it?"

"Understood, I will find a reliable security company."

"Let's leave it at that for now. I will be transferred here to establish our own security company."

"That would be best. I look forward to your good news."

Just as He Yuzhu predicted, TACO is now furious; he's really embarrassed himself this time.

"FK! FK! FK! That damn 'Grand Hyatt'! That Watson! And that bastard hiding behind the scenes! They think they've won? No! The game has only just begun!"

His chief advisor, Roy, stood to the side: "Boss, there's not much we can do at the official level. The mayor's stance is clear, and the contract is signed. We can only..."

"That's right! That's not how things work in New York! Since they don't know the rules, let's teach them!"

“Then how about we ask some ‘old friends’ for help? The Comodoro project is on the outskirts of Brooklyn, where… there are some people who can cause some ‘trouble’ to make the project less smooth, or even… make some key people disappear.”

A ruthless glint flashed in TACO's eyes.

He knew, of course, who Roy was referring to—those forces entrenched in New York's underworld who had "pleasantly collaborated" with his family on certain gray-area projects.

The Gambino Family is one of the five major Mafia families in New York, deeply entrenched in power and ruthless in its methods.

“Go contact Paul (Paul Castellano, then the godfather of the Gambino family),” TACO’s voice was icy. “Tell him I’ll make sure there’s no peace at the Commodore construction site, and I’ll shut that guy named Watson up forever. Money is no object.”

"Understood, boss."

A few days later, construction materials began to mysteriously disappear from the site, followed by frequent tire punctures on construction vehicles, and then the temporary fencing around the site was maliciously damaged.

Even worse, several night shift workers were beaten and threatened by masked men who warned them to "get out of this construction site."

Watson was in a state of chaos, trying to calm the frightened workers while dealing with questions from the police and the media.

Wilson then resorted to legal means to pressure the police, who took action but failed to find the person.

The security company they hired later also requested to terminate the contract.

On the very night the security company withdrew, Watson was driving home when, at a red light, he was going straight when a black Chevrolet Suburban without license plates suddenly crashed into him from the side!
"boom!!!"

The loud crash was particularly jarring on the quiet street. Watson's car flipped over, rolled several times, and then landed upside down on the road.

Immediately afterwards, four masked men armed with guns jumped out of the Chevrolet and opened fire on Watson's car and the bodyguards' vehicles!
“Da da da da da!!!”

The bullets left the bulletproof glass of the Mercedes cracked like a spiderweb, emitting a sickening groan.

Watson, who was inside the car, was dizzy from the impact and terrified by the bursts of gunfire. He clutched his head and curled up under the seat.

As the gunmen discovered the glass was bulletproof, they were about to get close and fire when the piercing sound of sirens grew louder as they approached.

Police officers patrolling nearby heard the impact and gunshots and rushed over.

Seeing this, the gunmen quickly jumped into the Chevrolet and sped away, disappearing into the night.

Watson was spared a life, and was also fortunate that he was driving a Yellow River-Benz provided by his boss, a brand he had never even heard of.

He was then taken to the hospital, where even the doctors were shocked because he only had a mild concussion.

The police were also surprised because the car, which had been hit by countless bullets, could still start. If it hadn't had a flat tire, it could have been driven away immediately.

Wilson quickly received the news and reported it to He Yuzhu, who asked him to visit the person on his behalf, as it was really inconvenient for him to go.

Watson remained relatively calm when he met Wilson, though his voice trembled slightly: "Wilson, who are those people? Did TACO send them?"

Wilson nodded, leaned closer, and whispered, "Those guys are probably from the Mafia, but the boss said he'll handle it. You can rest in the hospital for a while."

"The Mafia? Isn't he a legitimate businessman?"

"Heh, his advisors are from the Mafia, don't you think?"

"The one we met that day?"

"Correct."

"God, can I quit?"

Wilson was taken aback by Olsen's words, then said calmly, "Okay, the boss said it's your prerogative. Your salary, lost wages, and medical expenses will be paid as usual. Just mail me the bills. Consider the car a gift; you don't need to pay for it."

"This, okay."

Wilson stopped arguing with Olsen and left. Fear was understandable, but backing down meant there was nothing left to discuss.

Wilson later asked the police, and after a preliminary investigation, it was found that the Chevrolet was stolen and abandoned, and the gunman's identity was unknown.

Wilson reported this matter to He Yuzhu in person.

"Boss, what do we do? Watson quit, and things are like that at the construction site. If this continues, all the workers will leave," Wilson said worriedly.

“Gambino… Paul Castellano…” He Yuzhu didn’t answer Wilson, but instead read out a name.

"Boss, what's going on?"

"Security is on its way. Keep looking for a new manager, preferably someone who's willing to risk his life for money. I reckon there will be more of these kinds of things in the future."

"Well, I'll give it a try," Wilson said, somewhat hesitantly.

"Let's look for it first. Let the person in charge of Junyue Construction take over. If we really can't find it, I'll send someone over."

"it is good."

Two days later, in Astoria, Queens, at an unassuming Italian restaurant called Sparcini's.

This is one of the favorite dining spots of Paolo Castellano, the godfather of the Gambino family.

It was lunchtime, and the restaurant had been cleared out. Surrounded by a group of trusted bodyguards, Paul sat alone in a booth by the window, leisurely enjoying fresh clam pasta and a bottle of expensive Chianti red wine.

He was tall and overweight, dressed in an elegant custom-made suit, and looked relaxed.

Outside the restaurant, the streets appeared calm, but he had sentries at several key intersections.

At this moment, He Yuzhu was on a rooftop not far from the restaurant, and from his angle, he could clearly see the restaurant's main entrance.

In his hand was a modified M21 with a silencer installed; he had modified it himself.

The cold gun barrel rested on a sturdy tripod. He Yuzhu's breathing was adjusted to the faintest frequency, and his heartbeat slowed down.

Time passed by minute by minute.

Paul finally finished his meal, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and prepared to get up and leave.

Two bodyguards immediately stepped forward and opened the door for him.

Just as Paul's obese body stepped out of the restaurant, a muffled "thud" was heard as He Yuzhu pulled the trigger.

Paul Castellano's enormous head exploded like a ripe watermelon!

His obese body remained standing for a moment, stiffened, before collapsing heavily, even smashing the restaurant door.

"godfather!"

"FK! It's a sniper!"

"Find him and bring him back!"

The restaurant erupted in chaos! The bodyguards were horrified. Some instinctively lunged at the fallen Paul (even though he was just a headless corpse), some rushed out frantically, and some drew their guns and fired wildly in He Yuzhu's direction.

Screams, curses, the clatter of tables and chairs, and gunshots rang out, completely shattering the afternoon tranquility of Astoria.

He Yuzhu had already holstered his gun, disappeared from the rooftop, and followed the drainpipe down to the bottom, disappearing into the chaotic streets of New York.

The news that Paul Castellano, the godfather of the Gambino family, had been shot in the head on his own turf swept through New York's underworld and upper class like a hurricane.

Panic, suspicion, and a power vacuum ignited a bloody infighting that erupted instantly.

The Gambino family was in turmoil and had no time to attend to TACO's commission.

Taco heard the news of Paul's death in his luxury apartment on Fifth Avenue.

He was getting frustrated about how to continue causing trouble for the Grand Hyatt when the news came. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand fell with a "clatter" onto the expensive Persian carpet, and the amber liquid quickly spread.

A chilling sensation instantly shot from the soles of my feet straight to the top of my head.

"Shot in the head? In Spasini?" He stared incredulously at Roy, whose face was deathly pale. "Who did it? The FBI? Another family?"

“I don’t know… I have absolutely no idea!” Roy’s voice trembled. “The scene was a complete mess, there were no clues! It was like… like the work of a ghost! Boss, the killer was too professional! Paul is dead, Gambino is in complete chaos, and the people they sent to the construction site have all left! Our plan…”

TACO slumped onto the sofa, gripped by immense fear.

He didn't believe it was a coincidence or a gangland feud.

Watson was attacked, and then Gambino's godfather was precisely sniped? This is clearly a warning! It's naked revenge! And the bloodiest, most direct, and most ruthless kind!
The other side doesn't care about rules, laws, or even starting a gang war!
He realized that this must have been done by the forces behind Junyue, forces that were more terrifying and ruthless than he had imagined!
"FK! FK! FK!" He clutched his head, regretting his decision.

Suddenly he looked up and yelled at Roy, "Roy, call the Gambino family! Tell them that Paul was killed by the people behind the Grand Hyatt!"

Roy said somewhat helplessly, "TACO, now is not the time to call. They're all busy climbing the ranks, no one will pay any attention to you..."

“I refuse to believe that Paul doesn’t even have a single real supporter!” TACO shouted.

"Okay, I'll give it a try."

Then Roy dialed the phone, and Taco stood up and walked over to Roy to listen. When Roy finished speaking, you could feel the perfunctory attitude on the other end of the phone, and Taco's face turned frighteningly dark.

"Roy, do you think he might contact me next?"

"Probably not, since you didn't show up."

“That’s you?” Taco stared at Roy.

"Should I hide away for a while?" Roy asked.

“Hey, it’s not just you, we all need to hide for a while,” TACO said.

Subsequently, both TACO and Roy disappeared from the public eye in New York.

Taco retreated to a highly secluded and heavily guarded family vacation home on Long Island, surrounded by expansive lawns and a private beach, offering excellent views and equipped with state-of-the-art surveillance and a security perimeter comprised of the family's core security team.

Roy, however, had multiple burrows, hiding in a safe house deep in the Brooklyn industrial area, a converted abandoned factory that even the Gambino family was unaware of, and he was extremely careful when entering and leaving.

They thought they were hiding deep enough and safe enough.

However, they underestimated He Yuzhu's determination and the network of resources he controlled.

Wilson obtained all of Roy's previous activity records through the special channels left by Carl, and He Yuzhu searched several places before finally locating the Brooklyn factory area where Roy was hiding.

At night, He Yuzhu sneaked into the industrial zone.

Although Roy's safe house was equipped with alarm systems and had two bodyguards, it was no match for absolute professionalism.

After the muffled "thud" of the silenced pistol, the bodyguard was silently eliminated.

When Roy was jolted awake from his sleep by the cold muzzle of a gun pressed against his forehead, all that remained in his eyes was desperate terror.

"Who...who sent you..." His last question was ended by an even softer "poof" sound.

He Yuzhu didn't give him any chance to waste words.

This insidious strategist, this driving force behind introducing Mafia violence into business competition, vanished silently into the steel jungle of New York.

He Yuzhu didn't even bother to set up the scene. Let people guess whatever they want. The Gambino family is in a mess right now, and who knows if anyone has a grudge against him.

Taking down Roy was like pulling out Taco's fangs and eyes.

Long Island, a villa by the sea.

Taco sat in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window, a moment that should have been a pleasant one to enjoy the view of the sea and sky, but all he could see was a lingering gloom.

Roy has been missing for two days. He has sent people to check all the safe houses, but they haven't found him. This is definitely not a good sign.

"We can't wait any longer!" Taco jumped to his feet and shouted outside, "Arrange a ship immediately! To Florida! No, to the Bahamas! Let's go now!"

"Yes, boss."

The darkness provided the perfect cover as a white, medium-sized yacht silently sailed away from the dock and disappeared into the dark waters of Long Island Bay.

The yacht has been specially modified and has a high speed.

As TACO sat in the cabin, watching the shore recede into the distance through the porthole, his tense nerves finally began to relax.

He Yuzhu stood on an abandoned lighthouse by the sea, his night-vision binoculars clearly capturing the yacht speeding through the night, cutting through the sea like a conspicuous arrow.

He put down the binoculars, glanced at his watch expressionlessly, and said in a low voice, "Five minutes left!"

Then he turned and left, because five minutes was enough for the boat to sail far away.

Five minutes later.

While sailing at full speed, a tremendous fire suddenly erupted from the engine room in the middle of TACO's yacht!
"Boom——!!!"

A muffled, massive explosion ripped through the silent sea, and the enormous shockwave tore the yacht's fragile hull apart like a piece of paper from the middle.

Flames and thick smoke instantly engulfed the entire ship.

The powerful explosion echoed across the sea, and even He Yuzhu, who was far away on the shore of Changdao Island, could faintly hear it.

The sudden burst of light was exceptionally dazzling on the dark ocean, like the gates of hell being briefly opened.

A few seconds later, the flames quickly dimmed, leaving behind billowing smoke and scattered burning debris floating on the sea surface.

Long Island Coast Guard rescue boats quickly arrived and began searching the dark sea, which was covered in oil and charred debris.

In the end, they pulled out three charred corpses, unrecognizable as human bodies, and a mangled body—that was TACO.

Miraculously, he was not torn apart by the explosion, nor did he immediately perish in the fire or drown.

When he was pulled onto the rescue boat, he was in a deep coma and his breathing was barely perceptible.

Presbyterian Hospital, ICU ward.

The pungent smell of disinfectant could not mask the faint, burnt odor.

Taco lay on the hospital bed wrapped up like a mummy, his body covered in tubes connected to various life-sustaining instruments.

Beneath the breathing mask, his face was pale and swollen, devoid of all his former arrogance and ferocity.

The doctor, with a grave expression, reported the diagnosis to a well-dressed, angry-looking elderly man (Fred Taco) beside the bed:
"...Mr. Taco...I'm so sorry, we did everything we could. He survived, but the explosion and drowning caused extremely severe combined injuries. The most fatal was a comminuted fracture of the L1-L2 segment of his spine and complete nerve severance...This means...he has permanently lost all motor and sensory functions below the waist...that is, high-level paraplegia..."

"Even more regrettably, the debris and shockwave from the explosion caused irreversible damage to his pelvic cavity... After a detailed examination and consultation... it was determined that he... had completely lost his fertility."

"...My future life...will depend entirely on a wheelchair and round-the-clock care...The road to recovery...is extremely long and the results...cannot be guaranteed."

Fred Taco's tall frame swayed, his face ashen.

He looked at his son, lifeless on the sickbed, who might never be able to stand up again or continue the family line, his eyes filled with grief, disbelief, and deep fear.

The other party's methods were too ruthless; this was a hundred times more cruel than simply killing Taco!
This made him wish he were dead and marked the complete extinction of this branch of the TACO family!

This is a deeper, more vicious form of revenge.

This can no longer be considered a warning; it is an indelible mark.

Outside the window, the gloomy sky blocked out even a ray of sunlight.

The future of the TACO family has been shrouded in a dark cloud that can never be dispelled by this "accidental" explosion at sea.

Two days later, in He Yuzhu's office in Manhattan.

The phone rang, and he pressed the answer button.

"Boss, that kid Taco is seriously injured and is currently lying in the Elders' Hospital. He's paralyzed from the waist down and has permanent functional impairment. That old man from the Taco family is about to collapse," Wilson's voice came through.

"I understand. Take care of your own business." He Yuzhu's reply was completely flat, as if he had only heard a weather forecast.

"clear."

"The mafia hasn't come to the construction site again, has it?"

"No for now, but we don't know once they settle down."

"Okay, I understand. Find a manager as soon as possible."

"Yes."

After hanging up the phone, He Yuzhu pressed the internal call button, said a few words, and soon two people came into the office. They were two security team leaders from Hong Kong, and the rest of the staff were waiting in the temporary dormitory.

How are you all settling in?

"Boss, apart from a few people who don't speak English, everyone's fine. But it seems like there's some discrimination against Chinese people here."

"Ignore them, might makes right."

"Yes."

“Starting tomorrow, you will be stationed at the Junyue construction site as ‘Junyue Security Consulting Company’. We will continue to recruit people here. Once we have recruited people, you will be in charge of internal affairs. After Junyue is completed, you will stay at Junyue.”

"Aren't you going to keep someone here?"

"Not for now, we'll talk about it when we need it later."

"clear."

"Alright, you can go back now. Take good care of your men. If anything happens, you can call me. I'll send a car to pick you up tomorrow."

"Okay, boss."

　The previous chapter was canceled again; it will most likely have to wait until after 9 AM tomorrow.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)