People in America: My Uncle Don Quixote

Fuck you!

José suddenly exploded. His eyes red, he violently overturned the stack of chips in front of him, roaring, "You cheated! There's something wrong with these cards!"

slam-la-

The chips were scattered all over the ground. The surrounding gamblers were stunned at first, then a commotion broke out as they began to grab the chips on the ground.

"court death!"

One of the thugs who was originally guarding the second-floor stairwell frowned, gave his partner a wink, and strode over, his hand already touching his waist.

Suddenly, the lights in the hall flickered and went out briefly for a few seconds.

Jose's mind went blank, but in the face of crisis, he squeezed out his last bit of potential and took advantage of the few seconds of darkness to sneak along the wall to the back of the second-floor corridor.

"Fuck! What's going on?!"

"Where's the backup power? Leto! Is someone trying to double-cross us?!"

"Stay where you are! I'll shoot if anyone moves!"

Fortunately, the darkness in the hall only lasted for a few seconds before the light returned.

Leto emerged from the second-floor office with several thugs.

He was holding a walkie-talkie and inquiring about the generator's status, but all he got was a busy signal.

He gestured for his men to investigate, while he himself led his men down to reassure the gamblers in the casino.

However, as if playing a joke on him again, the lights suddenly went out again.

It wasn't the flickering that comes after a power outage, but a complete, deathly, prolonged darkness. It was as if an invisible hand had instantly severed the throat of the entire building.

All the slot machines went silent instantly, and the once noisy casino, after a moment of pause, erupted into even louder screams and curses.

"They're going to kill us!"

"Run!"

"There's money on the counter!"

The massive riot threw all the gamblers into panic, but José, instead of retreating, stumbled and staggered toward the office he remembered in the pitch-black darkness, fueled by his last bit of ferocity.

If we just rush in... there might still be a chance!

To his ecstatic delight, the office door on the second floor wasn't even locked. He rushed in like a gust of wind, rummaged through the desk drawer that Don Quixote had specifically instructed him to instruct, and took whatever he found, stuffing it all into his arms.

Suddenly he felt a barely perceptible breeze, but he didn't have time to think about what it was or how it came to be.

God, will you finally show me some mercy?

He heard footsteps on the stairs and saw the light of a flashlight, which terrified him.

He clutched the things in his arms tightly, not even realizing he had knocked over several people, and scrambled out with the other gamblers.

He rushed out of the construction site, turned several corners, and finally got into Don Quixote's chariot in a dead end.

Don Quixote didn't have time to ask any questions; he just stepped on the gas and drove off, making a big loop around Queens before finally returning to Bell Ridge.

Li Wei opened the door for them.

"You did it?"

Upon entering the room, Don Quixote asked, "What exactly happened inside?"

"I...I don't know, the power went out, it was all dark," Jose said, still shaken. "Then...then I rushed into the office—thank God, the office door wasn't locked."

"The important part! The important part!" Don Quixote was practically going crazy. "Have you found the ledger?"

"The ledger...yes," José dumped what he was holding onto the table, "the ledger..."

There were some loose US dollars, probably a few thousand dollars.

The two pornographic books were probably Leto's way of passing the time.

There was also a thick, worn-out black leather ledger lying quietly in front of the two of them.

"A generous gift of crabs..." Don Quixote's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "You actually got your hands on the ledger?"

"God is with me," José cried, burying his face in his hands. "This is a miracle from the Lord!"

"Let me see... Although it's in Italian," Don Quixote opened the ledger, "I speak Spanish, so I can basically understand it. Good! Good! Good!"

"This contains not only loan sharking and casino information, but even drug details," he said as he looked through the documents. "If I were to hand this over to the IRS or the FBI, I'd be in big trouble!"

"Then why don't we just hand it over?" José asked cautiously. "I mean...wouldn't it be safer that way?"

Don Quixote glanced at Jose: "The FBI takes anywhere from a few months to a year to investigate someone. Can we afford to wait that long? And what if they're in cahoots? This operation has already been risky enough. Thank God it succeeded out of nowhere. Let's not do anything risky from now on."

"Thank God?" Li Wei thought smugly. "Thank Li Wei, thank God."

[Mission: Complete the unfinished business]

[Task Reward: Agility +0.1]

Don Quixote was very satisfied with the result José had achieved.

[Bonus Reward: Strength +0.1]

...

Early Saturday morning, Don Quixote, with bloodshot eyes from staying up all night, told Livy this wonderful news.

"I've compiled this ledger! And I've made a backup!" He slapped the ledger in his hand. "I borrowed $500 from Susan for Jose so he and his wife could lay low for a while. And I have some good news for you."

"What good news?" Li Wei asked, his words muffled as he brushed his teeth. "What did you find out from the ledgers?"

"That Leto guy is actually a gangster in the Gambino family," Don Quixote said with undisguised pride. "He's a fourth-tier member of the Gambino family, and the building I've got my eye on happens to be managed by him—it's like God is helping me! What do you think will happen if the Gambino family finds out that Leto has lost the ledgers?"

"Explain to me what a 'corner boss' is first," Li Wei said, "otherwise I can't make a judgment."

"Italian Mafia families divide their members into six ranks," Don Quixote explained. "The boss, the second-in-command, the advisor, the gang leader (like Leto, who manages a region), the soldiers, the peripheral members, and there are several layers above Leto."

"So, the higher-ups suspect Leto is a traitor?" Levy said, "and then they purge this entire network?"

“That’s right,” Don Quixote nodded, waving the ledger in his hand, “They will most likely abandon these assets that are already exposed to risks, and that’s when we should buy them up.”

"So," Li Wei said, "there's no need to threaten them or send them anonymous emails anymore?"

"No need. I thought they belonged to different gangs, and I didn't expect to get the original ledger. My best expectation of José was that he could secretly take a picture or something," Don Quixote shook his head. "Plans need to be adjusted at any time. Since there is a safer way, there is no need to take risks."

"Now all we have to do is send out this anonymous email," he said, "and the rest is none of our business."

...

Leto was frantically stuffing cash and his passport into his bag, filled with deep regret.

He regretted wasting six whole hours last night frantically searching the construction site for the lost ledgers. If he had left the moment the power went out, he might be in Miami or Southeast Asia by now...

But he was unwilling to give up. He thought he had just lost something because he was high on drugs, or perhaps he didn't want to give up on the fact that he had been on the streets since he was 17 and had worked hard for more than 20 years to build his current business.

He glanced at his Manhattan apartment one last time, then quickly went downstairs and into the underground parking garage.

A few minutes later, a Maserati drove out of the underground parking garage.

Perhaps they don't even know the ledger is lost? Leto thought, after all, only one night has passed.

"Vaffanculo..." he muttered under his breath, "Who took the ledgers?"

There were just too many suspicious points last night.

The guards outside were subdued without any resistance, and both generators they were guarding were damaged.

The previously locked office door was silently opened, and the account books had vanished...

He genuinely couldn't understand how someone could take down four armed men with their bare hands without making a sound. Was this guy Captain America? Spider-Man? Batman?

Just as he was about to drive out of the underground parking garage, two completely black trucks suddenly appeared from the side, precisely blocking his escape route.

Two men wearing dark blue overalls and masks got off the bus.

They didn't draw their guns, nor did they show any menacing intent. One of them knocked on Leto's car window: "Leto, the advisor is waiting for you."

...

One hour later, in the suburbs of Brooklyn, at a warehouse with a sign that reads "Waste Disposal Center".

The lights were stark white, and a middle-aged Italian man sat in a folding chair, looking at odds on some betting websites on his phone.

The two people behind him were laying thickened industrial-grade impermeable plastic sheeting on the ground.

"Leto, sit down." He gestured to a stool in the center of the plastic sheet without looking up.

"Advisor... I'm chasing after it..." Leto slumped in his chair. "Give me seven days... no, three days! I'll definitely get the ledger back."

"I haven't even told you why I'm here," the consultant said. "Why are you admitting it so soon?"

Leto's expression froze, as if he was about to say something.

"Shh," the advisor simply waved his hand, "Wait a minute..."

Leto just trembled and looked around nervously.

Maybe three minutes have passed, maybe ten thousand years have passed.

The consultant sighed, put down his phone, and his expression was far from pleasant.

"I just lost $10," he said. "Leto, do you think that's a lot?"

"Not much... much..." Leto stammered, his words disjointed, "Much... a lot!"

"A lot, right?" the consultant nodded. "But you've lost the ledgers. At least 276 debtors, 7 distributors, and 3 companies along this line have become risk assets that could be investigated by the DEA, IRS, and FBI at any time. How many hundred thousand do you think that's worth?"

"But..." Leto wanted to defend himself, "I can get it back, I promise."

The advisor smiled upon hearing what Leto said.

He took out his phone, scrolled through the photo album, and then placed it in front of Leto.

"You still don't understand what's going on, do you?" he said. "You lost your ledgers last night, and today they sent us an email demanding $1000 million!"

Upon seeing the screenshot of the email, Leto's mind went blank.

He was completely clueless, with no idea who he had offended or who had the ability to do something like this last night.

"So, regarding the theft of the ledgers," the consultant asked, "do you have any leads? Who could possibly have done it?"

"Yes..." Leto swallowed hard. "It's Batman! Definitely not human!"

The consultant chuckled.

"Do you think this is a comic book?" he retorted. "Or some Hollywood movie? A novel? Batman's here, why don't you just say that yesterday some incredibly strong, invisible man swaggered in and took your ledger?"

"Then..." Leto said blankly, "What do we do now?"

He was stingy and greedy, but even after more than 20 years of hard work, his own cash reserves amounted to only a few million US dollars, barely reaching ten million...

"Of course we won't agree, because one act of tolerance will only lead to more tolerance," the advisor said. "So because of you, you idiot, we need to clean up your entire line of operations and then completely relinquish these assets."

"This isn't a personal matter, Leto," he sighed again. "We'll provide monthly child support for your two mistresses and three illegitimate children until they're capable soldiers, but someone has to take responsibility for this, understand?"

He turned to the person beside him and instructed them:

"You're new here, remember to pull out his teeth. That part is the hardest to corrode and needs to be treated separately," he said. "Don't use a saw, it's not good... Prepare quicklime and industrial alkali. Remember, cut the joint ligaments first when you cut, so it's easier to move. Be careful not to damage the bones."

As Leto watched the cleaner put on his latex gloves with an expressionless face, and looked at the huge, empty barrel that reeked of chemicals, the fear, anger, and despair that had been building up all night finally exploded.

That's something no human could do! What does it have to do with me! It would be the same no matter who did it!

He lunged forward, letting out a beastly roar: "Fuck you!"

"Bang."

A dull thud, the sound of a silencer attached. The bullet pierced precisely through the back of Leto's head, and he slammed heavily onto the waterproof fabric due to inertia, without any further struggle.

"Who gave you permission to use a gun!"

The advisor turned to the soldier with a sigh: "Do you know how expensive skulls and brains are?!"

"Now it's all good!" He shrugged. "You've lost $4000. That money will be deducted from your bonus!"

As he spoke, he pulled out his phone again, opened a gambling website, and placed another $5 bet on a rugby match.

For him, it's no longer about winning or losing money; only large bets can give him a thrill, even though he's never paid attention to this kind of secondary league before.

The next day, Don Quixote learned through his connections at the construction site that Leto had been missing for a whole day.