You don't even want to call me godfather

"...I think you definitely don't want to hear this answer."

Mondirfarri's body paused and his eyes dodged, as if he was afraid of something.

"Tell me the answer, Mondirfarri," Arthur frowned, and his tone was commanding. "You know I don't like to keep you in suspense."

"Yes..." Mondirfarri nodded. He took a deep breath and said, "About half a month ago, a group of people who had never registered their identities in Colombia appeared in our territory. After verification, it was confirmed that they were all from the Lupo tribe. Until our people clashed with them, you sent Miss Freya to wipe them out. Miss Freya fought with them and finally killed four of them with zero casualties. The rest of the people successfully escaped. We examined the four bodies and found the same bronze badge on them all."

"Badge?" Upon hearing this, Arthur frowned even deeper. "I don't remember any force in Columbia having a unified badge."

"Yes... so we conducted a more in-depth investigation and even contacted all the natural disaster messengers in Colombia. In the end, we got the answer from one of the messengers from another country." Mondirfarli swallowed his saliva halfway through his speech, and beads of sweat seemed to slide down his forehead. "That badge is a family badge. The organization to which the family badge belongs is from Syracuse. They are a family from Syracuse, which is... the Cascade family that has been in the limelight recently. Mr. Wilder, you should be familiar with this surname. They are-"

"The Syracuse Mafia," Arthur took over Mondirfarri's words. He lowered his head, rubbed his forehead with both hands, took a few deep breaths, and finally punched the seat in front of him. "Fuck the Mafia..."

Chapter 39 Black Gloves, White Gloves

Mafia is a name unique to the Syracuse family. Its notoriety comes from a group of guys claiming to be Sicilians who occupied the land of Syracuse after the Syracuse immigrated from Colombia decades or even hundreds of years ago.

Even though they have immigrated from Colombia, those Sicilians are still able to operate in every corner of Colombia, manipulating Colombia's gambling and pornography industries, selling drugs and smuggling arms. They engage in professional criminal activities and often leave a black handprint at the scene after committing a crime.

The word Mafia also comes from this.

Later, the Sicilians disappeared in Colombia. Perhaps they made enough money to make the emerging country of Syracuse run, or perhaps for some other reason, the mafia chose to hide. There is no substantive explanation for their disappearance.

Since then, no one with the name of Mafia has appeared in Colombia again until now.

"Mr. Wilder..."

Although Mondirfarelli was afraid of the Mafia, he didn't think Arthur would be afraid of it.

"…Have you dealt with the body?"

Arthur didn't look up until the car arrived at its destination. There was no emotion on his face. He just asked calmly.

"The body is temporarily stored in the 'brewery', and the person in charge of 'preparing dinner' is waiting for your order at any time."

Mondirfarli pulled the handbrake and parked the car on the side of the road next to a mansion.

"Put the body in a plastic preservative storage barrel, upright, and dissolve it with acid until it is no longer recognizable as a human. Spray paint on it, label it with a chemical waste liquid, and have the waiter take it away. Everyone will have to lose their memory," Arthur instructed Mondirfarri on the detailed handling process, then opened the car door and got out as if this conversation had never happened. "Park the car here and wait for me in two hours."

"Yes, Mr. Wilder," after Arthur closed the car door, Mondirfarley lowered the window and asked him, "Do you need an extra meal for dinner?"

"Have the waiters and chefs prepared, and tell them that customers may arrive at any time." Arthur looked around, and after confirming that no one noticed him, a cold look appeared in his eyes for a moment, "Also, the storm is coming."

……

In the mansion, four men in suits sat around a conference table.

Everyone had a frown on their face, and seemed to be troubled by something.

The man sitting at the front of the conference table was repeatedly flipping through the documents in front of him. The sound of paper rubbing against each other was quite unpleasant in this quiet atmosphere.

"Frey, can you please stop that damn thing?"

After a long time, a sturdy man began to complain.

"No, I can't, Tyr." The man called Frey paused for a few seconds and continued to flip through the papers. "A really fucking terrible thing happened a few days ago... a particularly terrible disaster."

As if he noticed his inappropriate choice of words, Frey immediately changed his words, using more civilized words and secretly glanced at the other people present.

Among the four people sitting here, he was the only one who was a "white glove". He really felt uncomfortable sitting together with the three "black gloves" to discuss things.

"This is not only a disaster for us, but also for the whole world. It started from Columbia, spread to Victoria, and then to Longmen." Frey couldn't help shaking his head, feeling nervous about the disaster he mentioned. "The whole thing is getting worse and worse. It's even written in the newspapers. It's all over the news. Almost everyone is talking about it-"

"Frei," another man interrupted Frei, who was already at a loss, "Shouldn't we wait until Wilder arrives before starting the meeting?"

"...Yes, yes, you are right, Loki." As if he had grabbed a life-saving straw, Frey, whose forehead was already covered with sweat, changed the subject with relief. "Perhaps while we are waiting for Mr. Wilder, we can ease the atmosphere of anxiety and express our relief as a newer member of this family. We are relieved that there are so many capable people in the meeting room who can get the favor of Mr. Wilder and help him. Although I am just a 'white glove' and have no right to make any comments on this, I still want to say-"

"You should know that we are a modern company, Mr. Frey," Loki pulled the corner of his mouth into a fake smile. He tilted his head slightly, as if joking, and said, "It's a company, not a family. Please don't confuse this concept, Mr. Frey."

"Yes, yes, yes. We are a modern company now." Frey looked even more flustered, as if Loki's joke was more like a threat to him. "But I'm not sure if there are still some people who still hold on to their old values——"

"Frey, shut up."

At this point, the person who had been sitting at the back of the conference table, with his arms folded across his chest and remaining silent, slowly opened his eyes and spoke lightly.

The tone was flat, but there was an invisible sense of oppression that forced Frey to shut his mouth obediently and stop talking.

"Boom."

"Where have you been talking about?"

At this time, the door of the conference room was pushed open, and Arthur walked in slowly. After looking around, he sat down next to Frey.

"We just sat down, Mr. Wilder," Loki relaxed his eyebrows, looked at Arthur with a relaxed expression, and said with a smile, "In fact, Mr. Frey seems to want to send us some documents."

"Really?" Arthur narrowed his eyes. Perhaps Loki had concealed it perfectly, but Frey did not look relaxed. He looked as if he had just been pulled out of the water. His body was soaked with sweat. However, Arthur did not expose his mistake and continued to ask, "What document?"

"I was just explaining this to you all." Seeing Arthur coming, Frey seemed to have gained some confidence. He slammed the documents in his hand on the table, pursed his lips and shook his head, "Mr. Wilder, we are finished."

"Yes, but no." Arthur took out a cigarette and lit it up. He cleared his throat and said, "Indeed, most of Wilder Ltd.'s funds are invested in Columbia stocks and securities."

“Invest, or hide?”

At this time, the person sitting at the back of the conference table spoke again and asked a question that could be considered difficult.

"All investments are approved by the board, Hodel."

Arthur was stunned for a moment by this sudden question, and then quickly gave a vague answer.

"Only the ones that are accounted for, Wilder."

Hodel's attitude became more and more aggressive. Loki raised his eyebrows and looked like he was watching a show. Tyr did not show any attitude at all. Only Frey was watching this scene, feeling very nervous.

"Well, to be precise, we can return ten pence for every pound for all transactions conducted through the local stock exchange." As soon as Arthur said this, Hodel shut up. Even Loki put away his playful attitude and realized the seriousness of the problem. "And the bank where we invested in liquid funds will return five pence for every pound for all deposits."

Hodel took a deep breath, he covered his face with his hands and rubbed it up and down.

"But there is still hope."

Arthur changed the subject and began rummaging through his briefcase.

"What else can you pull out of the bag, Wilder, a wand?"

Hodel said this sarcastically with a fake smile on his face.

“As a non-executive director of the company, I need the approval of the chairman of the board to present my strategy to the board.”

But Arthur didn't care about his overstepping of authority, instead he looked at Frey and spoke as if he was just going through the motions.

"Approved, Mr. Wilder."

Frey understood and raised his hands.

"what."

Seeing this scene, Hodel couldn't help but sneer. He looked at this child's play of power cover-up in disbelief, then stood up from his seat and left the meeting room.

Arthur did not stop this. He frowned, glanced at the rest of the people, and finally locked his eyes on Loki.

"Don't look at me like that, Mr. Wilder." Loki leaned back, as if explaining something very ordinary. "You should know that we are aware of Freya's failed mission, and we also know about the Syracuse mafia. As for Hodel..."

"Hodel Falkland," Arthur sighed lightly, feeling a little helpless. "The Falkland family was originally a large family that immigrated to Syracuse, but they were exterminated many years ago. I know that."

Hearing this, Loki shrugged, indicating that he didn't care about such things.

Arthur held a hand to his forehead, distressed.

Hoddle is one of his 'black gloves', so his loyalty and ability are naturally genuine.

But this kind of genocide has suddenly been brought up now, and it is indeed not pleasant for anyone.

He could only pray secretly that Hodel would not do anything impulsive.

Chapter 40: Becoming Famous

"I believe that all members of the House, including Mr. Speaker, are aware of what has happened to Colombia's economy recently," a man stood in front of his seat in the Colombian House of Representatives, holding a manuscript in his hand and reading aloud, "The huge losses of the stock exchange will hit our economy hard in the foreseeable future, so I must ask the unions to understand that their flexibility and cooperation will be crucial in the days ahead as we work to rebuild this great country. That's all I want to say."

"Ooh!"

As the man finished his speech, nearly half of the members of the House of Commons waved their white handkerchiefs in agreement.

"Thank you very much for your speech," the Speaker said, standing in the middle of the House of Commons. The lights were shining from above, making his face almost hidden in shadow. He stretched out his hand and pointed in a direction, with his palm facing up. "Congressman Arthur Wilder, do you have anything to say about this?"

"Well, thank you Mr. Speaker for giving me the opportunity to speak. I have a distinguished friend who has asked that union members be more flexible in performing their duties after the crash," Arthur stood up, flicked the manuscript with his fingers, and after just a glance, put it down and began his impromptu speech, "but what he really wants is to make the workers scapegoats. The big gambling in the South is nothing compared to the crazy luck games played by those people wearing silk gloves and beaver hats on the East and West Coasts. When they lose, they will turn around and ask the shoe shiners to pay their debts. On behalf of the shoe shiners and scapegoats in Southern Columbia and across the country, I suggest that those who have recklessly lost their property in the capitalist lottery learn to shine their own shoes, take responsibility for themselves and pay their own debts."

Arthur finished speaking what he had prepared in advance, looked around, and then sat down.

"Ooh!"

"Yes! You are absolutely right!"

Immediately afterwards, the House of Commons erupted with even more enthusiastic voices of approval than before, and almost everyone in the meeting hall was waving white handkerchiefs.

Looking at this group of congressmen who were shouting like monkeys, Arthur took a deep breath and raised his hand to touch his forehead.

"Hmm, a good speaker."

A thin congressman with a beard who was sitting about ten seats away from him snorted coldly, muttered to himself, and then waved his handkerchief twice symbolically. From then on, his eyes were focused on Arthur, and he didn't listen to the speeches of others.

An hour later, the meeting of the House of Commons ended and the members of parliament left the venue one after another.

Arthur sat there until the phone in his pocket vibrated, then he got up and left.

As he passed a room in the corridor, a man walked out of the room and almost bumped into him.

It was the congressman who had just snorted in the meeting.

"Mr. Wilder," the man stepped back and made room for himself, a smile on his face, "Nice to meet you. I really like your speech. Your remarks are very convincing."

"……Thank you for the compliment."

Arthur raised his head slightly. He didn't think what he said was worthy of praise.

"My name is Osvid, Armando Osvid."

The congressman who called himself Oswald extended his hand to Arthur and introduced himself.

"I know who you are," Arthur hesitated for a moment, but still shook his hand. After all, at least he had to do his job well. "I've heard of you, Mr. Oswald."

"My constituency is adjacent to yours, both in the South Columbia area," Osvid said after shaking hands. He withdrew his hand and smiled, with a hint of ill intent in his words. "I remember that you seemed to be a representative of the Labor Party. I'll be frank, Mr. Wilder, you caught my attention."

"…I don't understand what you mean, Mr. Oswald."

Arthur's expression froze for a moment. He should have thought that no one would really try to make friends with him just because of his speech.

What's more, that was just a set of words he often said, without any sincerity.

"You'll understand, Mr. Wilder," Oswald tilted his head, pursed his lips, and asked with a smile, "I'm curious, do you want to be an unknown person or famous?"

After saying this, Osvid turned around and went back to his room and closed the door, leaving Arthur standing alone in the corridor, confused.

“…It’s unreasonable.”

Arthur sighed and continued walking towards the exit of the House of Commons.

……

"Where are we going next, Mr. Wilder?"

Arthur's car stopped in front of the House of Commons. After Arthur got in, Mundilfarley turned around and asked.

"Take a walk around here, Montilfarri," Arthur rolled down the back window and rested his arm on the sill. "I need to relax."

"Understood, Mr. Wilder."

Mondirfarri understood, he started the engine, the car slowly drove onto the highway, then suddenly accelerated and drove into another road.

"Mondirfarri, tell me the rest of the schedule for today."

The car was moving at a fast speed, but the interior was very stable. After looking at the scenery for a while, Arthur said to Mondirfarli.

"Yes, Mr. Wilder," Mondirfarley said as he looked at the car and the notepad he had prepared. "According to the arrangement, after the meeting of the House of Commons, you will go to observe and instruct Freya's training. You will also have to attend a dinner party in the evening. A reporter wanted to interview you earlier, and I have put this matter on the agenda."

"Push the last one off," Arthur said firmly, moving his gaze from the window to Montilfarli. "I should have told you not to accept any interviews from reporters. You know how tricky the questions those reporters ask are. It's hard enough to deal with those monkeys in the House of Commons. I don't want to face those bastard reporters who just want to find loopholes in my words."

"Yes, I will arrange to cancel it later," Mondirfarley nodded. He observed Arthur's profile through the rearview mirror in the car for a long time, and then he said, "There is one thing I have to mention, Mr. Wilder."

"explain."

Arthur waved his hand, signaling him to continue.