American variety show: The Godfather, the Peace Ambassador, what the heck?

Chapter 119 Snowflakes Fluttering
Scarpa and a group of surrendered brothers emerged from the gang's stronghold. As surrendered rebels, they walked together along the street, where decorations and mascots for Christmas activities could already be seen in the shop windows.

Light snow was falling from the sky.

“I don’t think Persico really approves of us.” One guy, with his hands in his coat pockets and his shoulders and neck hunched, said, “I bet if we don’t get promoted, we’ll be soldiers for life, paying tribute to the family every week.”

“It’s better than being killed.” The other man said fearfully, “When I walked in just now, I thought Yako and the others would execute us. The thing I hate most in my life is going into a house I’ve never been to before. You have no idea how many assassins are lurking in there.”

"From the moment we swore a blood oath, we were no longer in control of our own lives," one guy sighed.

Of the brothers present, who didn't have a life on their hands? Without killing, there was no way to pass the Mafia's "political vetting"; one could only remain an outer partner for life. And once a blood oath was sworn, one was completely bound to the family; almost no one could escape unscathed, destined to be the Mafia's "beasts" for life.

There is almost no other way to escape this except through death.

“Scapa, you used to be a gang leader. Persico just met with you alone, right? Is he going to give you some territory?” a skinny man asked curiously. “I’ll follow you from now on and pay you tribute every week.”

Bearing nicknames like "The Reaper" and "The Grim Reaper," Scarpa was quite famous in New York's underworld. Rumors circulated that he had committed more than 100 murders, making him the second most notorious executioner after The Butcher.

The other soldiers echoed this sentiment:

"The family is short-handed right now, and Persico will definitely give you an important role!"

"We'll all follow you, the other gang leaders don't like us either."

"We'll give you all our money as tribute."

Listening to his brothers' flattery, Scarpa felt conflicted. He glanced at the cars parked along the street, wondering which car had an FBI agent inside, or perhaps someone further away was spying through binoculars behind a window, or eavesdropping with headphones on.

The listening device on his body had recorded everything.

"Persico doesn't quite trust me yet."

Scarpa shook his head. "He's just become the big boss and wants to consolidate his faction's power, so he's promoted a lot of new people. Many of his brothers are still carrying legal troubles. Once they're in jail, he'll promote even more new people. Maybe a whole bunch of partners will join the Blood Oath then."

The skinny man said, "I've heard of him. He's Sonny Francis's son, Mike Francis. I heard he's a college student. Sonny directly sponsored Mike to join the family."

Sonny Francis, the second-in-command of the Colombo family, is currently in prison. Although he's called the second-in-command, he's practically a figurehead with no real power. He escaped this family civil war by staying in prison.

The son, Mike, still had clear eyes. He followed in his father's footsteps and joined the Mafia, but he didn't know what he was going to do. He hadn't even thought about getting into the gasoline tax business, and he had no idea that his "opportunity" had been stolen by someone else.

The college student was happily stepping onto the stage of the public assembly, shaking hands and talking with Joe Colombo, when the next second the leader was shot in the head.

Persico also knew Mike; it was rare to find such a high-achieving individual in the Mafia.

He shook his head and said, "New recruits are a matter for the future. Let's go have a few drinks, how about it?"

"Where to drink?"

"go"

Scarpa suddenly thought of Gallo's dying words, and now, he himself was about to "die."

Having betrayed the Mafia, he has no way out. His only option is to leave New York under an assumed name and live in a remote town under official surveillance.

Before you leave, go and meet the peace ambassador that Gallo admires.

"Let's go to the SSR Club."

In winter, New York City's temperature often hovers around 0 degrees Celsius. Snowflakes arrive with the holidays, and the whole city is dressed up for the season. Christmas carols echo through the streets and alleys.

Perhaps it was the cold weather, but many of the Mafia in Little Italy noticed that their boss's demeanor had become even colder and more authoritative. Previously, underlings with a history of drug use would instinctively feel fear when they saw Luca, but now that he'd brought them all down, all the underlings felt genuine awe.

The moment Scarpa saw Luca at the club bar, he instantly understood why Gallo was so wary of Luca.

I was actually afraid inside!

We're all gang leaders, what am I afraid of?
The descriptions of Luca's deeds in the underworld, his own hearsay, Gallo's evaluation of Luca, and so on, automatically constructed a picture of Luca in his mind. This picture made him feel a sense of fear, and this thought kept taking root in his mind, like a maggot clinging to a bone that could not be cut off.

Even though the real Luca in front of him smiled very gently, Scarpa couldn't control his trembling heart.

Am I just overthinking things?
“Old Pigeon.” Scarpa steadied himself and took the initiative to greet Luca. The latter did not put on any airs and gently called over a waiter to serve Scarpa and the others drinks.

"I've heard about what happened recently. When were you released on bail?" Luca's gaze swept over the people present, finally landing on Scarpa.

This Mafia hitman, nicknamed "The Grim Reaper," will ultimately be taken by the Grim Reaper known as AIDS. Although he was merely a background character in the original story, he was an indispensable figure in the rise and fall of the Colombo family.

"This evening."

Scarpa answered truthfully, and then talked about the trouble he was facing: "I am now charged with multiple counts of murder, and I am in big trouble with abetting murder. The court and the FBI have banned me from leaving New York. Until the day of the formal trial, there is little hope of winning the case. Those self-proclaimed fair judges on the jury will not let someone as wicked as me off the hook."

The other Mafias were in similar situations, but faced far fewer charges than Scarpa.

The courtroom will be a battle of words, and unsurprisingly, everyone will end up in jail; it's just a matter of how long.

But Luca knew there would definitely be an unexpected turn of events.

After offering a few words of comfort, and with the attitude of "live for the moment," everyone toasted and drank, and under the influence of alcohol, they gradually relaxed. Several of the other Mafias went onto the dance floor to flirt with women, but Scarpa didn't seem particularly interested. In the past, he would have enjoyed this kind of nightly revelry.

Just thinking about what was about to happen, the alcohol-corroded brain inevitably brewed a desolate mood, and even the cigarette in his mouth became tasteless.

He glanced at Luca beside him. Both were assassins, both were executioners who had killed countless people. Pigeon was at the height of his power, while he was about to make a dejected exit.

He watched as many people came over to greet Luca; men, women, and children alike were very friendly towards him. A few people cautiously approached Luca for help, and after receiving his affirmative reply, they all showed grateful smiles.
Judging from their conversation, they seem to be shop owners in the area? They were making small requests, such as borrowing some money to tide them over, or dealing with troublesome outsiders, or even the daily inspections of shops by the fire department and police. They could all find Lao Ge to help them.

Old Pigeon seems to be able to solve everything.

Scarpa also saw a little girl snuggle up to Luca and whine for a Christmas birthday present.

When Scarpa saw Matilda, he couldn't help but think of his daughter and granddaughter. But his daughter was afraid of him and didn't even dare to let the child know who her grandfather was.

This made Scarpa feel a pang of sadness.

“Old Pigeon, I always thought that we killers who serve the family are the same kind of people.”

Scarpa tilted his head back slightly, exhaling smoke and his inner thoughts together. "We make money for the family, maintain the family's dignity and rules. We are given tasks from above, and we follow the arrangements to kill, rob, and intimidate. It is because of the existence of gangsters like us that we can deter those bastards who dare to offend the family, and the cash cow can operate smoothly."

Luca smiled faintly: "I heard you used to count heads when you killed people?"

"After 50, I stopped counting; I lost count. You've killed at least as many people as I have, haven't you?"

“I’ve lost count, but I’ve realized that killing doesn’t count as an achievement. Scarpa, the Mafia used to let bullets do the talking decades ago, but now…”

Luca stretched out his arm, took a newspaper from the shelf next to him, and pointed to the front page—a photo of Paul shaking hands with a member of parliament.

Paul's future succession to Gambino isn't just due to a family connection; it's also because he's a pure money-maker—so pure that he's less like a mob boss and more like a businessman. He forbids his subordinates from dealing drugs and has banned many illicit businesses. Paul loves money more than his family.

Rumors circulated that he didn't want to be the head of the family, but was forced into it. Regardless of the rumors, one thing Paul is certain of is that he's trying to whitewash the family's past, or at least make it less shady.

At that moment, Scarpa saw the photo and was slightly taken aback. "Paul is a legitimate businessman. He doesn't seem like a robber at all. I never expected him to be hanging out with a senator."

Luca didn't believe Paul was that "well-behaved." Legal? Jordan's stock business was also legal, and his company was openly located on Wall Street.

But Luca agreed with some of Paul's ideas: if the Mafia wanted to survive or even thrive under federal crackdowns, it had to make some changes. This was America, not Mexico or Colombia; armed forces couldn't defeat the government on American soil.

Scarpa: "I heard Gambino trusts Paul a lot."

At this point, Scarpa paused, Gallo's words flashing through his mind, "Luca and Gambino are the same kind of people." Looking at the newspaper in his hand, Scarpa suddenly realized what Luca meant.

Seeing the harmonious scene at the club again, Scarpa gave a wry smile and silently downed a glass of wine.

Gallo's face flashed through his mind as Luca said softly, "Scapa, those gangsters we killed before, they thought they were heroes until their deaths. But they were just rust on a bronze cauldron. The rust will wear away, but the cauldron will always remain."

Scarpa and his brothers left the SSR Club.

He now realizes that he is indeed not the same kind of person as the pigeon.

He looked down at his hands. "The cauldron is finished. The hands that cast it deserve to rot in the stinking ditch. Maybe this is my fate."

Scarpa and his brothers went their separate ways on the street, until finally only one skinny man remained.

“Scarpa, now.”

“Persico met with me alone because he wants me to kill you all.” Scarpa drew his pistol from his waist.

boom!boom!
Two bullets grazed past his brother. Scapa watched as several FBI agents rushed towards them from a distance, dropped his gun, and looked at his brother, whose face was filled with fear.
"But I changed my mind in the end, bro. If you ever have the chance, never join the Mafia again. Only by following someone like Old Pigeon is there any hope for the future."

White specks dot the darkness, snowflakes drift down.

Under his brother's shocked gaze, Scarpa raised his hands and knelt on the ground, his grief-stricken and indignant voice carrying far through the block: "I surrender! I confess! I tell you everything! I will report the Colombo family! Persico instigated me to do this!"

—Even if it's rust, I want it to be the biggest, most intact piece that can fall off on its own!

Hearing the gunshot, Luca walked out of the club and looked at Scarpa, who was being pinned to the ground by the FBI at the intersection.

Your unintentional communication prevented a murder, saved a life, and upheld peace on the streets.

[Gain Skill Points x5]

[Gained 2 Skill Fragments]

[Remaining Skill Fragments: 46]

Many people who heard the gunshots went to the door. Some were puzzled and asked, "How could anyone dare to fire a shot in Little Italy? Don't they know this is pigeon territory?"

Matilda came up and took the hem of Luca's coat. "Luca, has someone died?"

Luca ruffled her fluffy head: "Someone survived."

(End of this chapter)