The Mafia Empire

Meanwhile, neither Pronto nor Shaun noticed the figure across the street from the district police station. Standing near a lamppost, dressed in a trench coat and wearing a bowler hat, he silently turned away, blending into the crowd and disappearing without a trace.

That person was Julian.

He let out a long sigh. Gador's death was somewhat unexpected. In Julian's view, a ruthless man like Gador, who specialized in dirty work for powerful figures, wasn't supposed to meet an untimely end so easily.

In the underworld, he had handled everything with cruelty and bloodshed, while in high society, those bigwigs, though they looked down on him, also feared him because he knew too many secrets that weren't meant to be known.

For example, last year a mid-tier actress had died, reportedly from a horse-riding accident where she fell off a small slope and was trampled by the horse, resulting in her death. The report was impartial and didn't show any obvious bias, but that wasn't the true scene of the incident.

The real location was the basement of a certain magnate's estate, where the actress died after being unable to endure the abuse. Gador took care of the aftermath.

Logically, even though they were all part of the "Old Party," they had different positions and shouldn't have used another's subordinates for such matters. After all, it would risk exposing their own secrets. However, this world was different from the one Julian had dreamed of, the social system shaped different perspectives.

Here, they believed that having one or two "dirty hands" was sufficient, and when necessary, eliminating those hands could sever all connections and protect the secrets.

Moral and ethical values played a role, too. Even if they used Gador for their dirty work, they didn't have to worry about him speaking out. Otherwise, it wouldn't be them cleaning up Gador, but his own boss. Of course, no one would actively harm Gador, either. Despite differences in values and ethics, one thing was certain: the greater the power, the more intense the suspicion and paranoia.

If someone had silenced Gador, how would others perceive it?

It could even be explained as a "collusion case," where the ruling class of the entire city had become corrupt, blatantly trampling the law while simultaneously upholding it.

So, from Julian's perspective, Gador, no matter how lowly, shouldn't have been silenced so swiftly. Julian had anticipated that Gador would spend some time in prison, then die unexpectedly, as they had always done. The current approach seemed a bit too crude.

Nevertheless, the deviation wasn't too far off—Gador was dead, wasn't he? That meant Wood was now unprotected, allowing Julian to continue moving forward, pursuing his path toward the light!

Gador's death had a far greater impact within the gang than in society. Some advocated avenging Gador, surrounding the district police station and brandishing weapons, shouting for vengeance. Others argued for stabilizing the gang first and seeking revenge against Pronto later. Regardless of their stance, their motives were selfish, each with their own agenda.

Gador's death didn't mean the end of the gang. Whoever could take Gador's place would inherit everything he had.

As those high-powered figures would say, when a tool doesn't function properly, just replace it.

The power, prestige, and opportunity for advancement were things every ambitious gang member craved, so chaos naturally ensued.

Arguments.

Insults.

Shoving.

Brawls!

Wood paced anxiously in his room, rubbing his hands together as if trying to wash away dried blood, just like he had after his first kill when he hid in a dark corner, trembling with fear. He kept glancing at the door every time he heard footsteps approaching, only to quickly lower his head again.

He wanted to get out of there. He didn't want to go down with these crazed men. The moment someone suggested attacking the district police station and gained some support, Wood realized things had gone terribly wrong. Was the district police station that easy to bully? Was Pronto, that sly old fox, easy to provoke?

That man could smile and joke, but the moment you turned your back, he'd stab you without hesitation.

Wood's career was over, but he wasn't ready to gamble his life. Just as he made up his mind to leave, there was a knock on the door.

Cautiously, he picked up a flower vase from the table, filled with water to increase the impact if he had to swing it. He positioned himself beside the door, not behind it, knowing full well that people often liked to kick doors open, making standing behind them a dangerous choice.

"Who is it?" he asked.

A somewhat unfamiliar voice answered from outside, "No one knows what to do right now. You were close to the boss, and we're hoping to get some advice from you."

Wood didn't open the door. After a moment of silence, he replied, "Sorry, I don't even know what to do myself, so I can't offer any help."

"Alright then," the voice said, sounding disappointed. Footsteps grew fainter until they faded away.

Wood put down the vase, having made up his mind: if he didn't leave now, it would be too late. He knew these gang members weren't civilized, let alone gentlemen. If they had already taken an interest in him, they'd come back, and it wouldn't be just one or two people; it would be a group. Once they "persuaded" him, escaping would become nearly impossible!

He changed his clothes, pressed his ear against the door, and listened for a while to ensure no one was outside. Then he gently unlocked and opened the door. The hallway was empty, though the noise of arguments came from the lobby downstairs.

The gang members still didn't know what to do. Gador's "dictatorship" had indeed made governing the gang easier, but now that he was gone, the gang was falling apart. Wood tiptoed past the staircase and made his way to a second-floor window on the west side. Outside was a drainpipe and plenty of vines, leading down to a lawn adjacent to the manor and less than thirty meters from the gate.