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

Chapter 133 Confusing people’s hearts
Gunshots rang out incessantly, and the sound became even more deafening in the confined sewer.

Simon and Tago got out of their cars with their guns to meet the enemy. There were 14 cars, each with several brothers, totaling about 20 or 30 men.

"Report the enemy's location!" Simon asked gravely. These damned beggars, damn it, they've actually blocked this damned place.

"exist"

A gunshot rang out, and Simon lost the voice of his subordinates.

As more and more of his subordinates lost contact, Simon's expression grew increasingly grim.

how can that be possible?
This sewer is clearly not open yet, it's still under construction, and the government's construction team is still at the entrance. Why are so many stinking beggars gathered here?
Damn it! Now the plan has gone terribly wrong!

With so many people dead, this gold can't be moved! If those beggars find out later that the cart isn't loaded with garbage but with gold, Simon can guess with his toes what those desperate beggars will do.

Rat-a-tat-tat! Simon, hiding behind the carriage, peeked out and fired a three-round burst, forcing back a group of beggars who rushed at him. Tago, standing beside him, was frantic: "Simon! Think of something! If this continues, we'll all die here!"

Simon said coldly, "There's another box of bombs in the car. Take it down!"

"Are you crazy? Detonating a bomb here would be the end of everything!"

“It’s over.” Simon’s eyes were filled with resentment. “These beggars were clearly prepared. They ambushed us here and caught us completely off guard! It’s over, Tagore! We can’t take this gold with us!”

Tago looked dejected, his body suddenly losing all strength, swaying like a willow catkin.

After all the hard work and planning, everything was in place, even the gold was shipped out from the Federal Reserve, only to have it all ruined by a bunch of beggars?
Tago leaned against the carriage, his eyes filled with despair and resentment.

He clutched his forehead and burst into a maniacal, bitter laugh: "Hahaha! Tag! We've sacrificed so much, outsmarted the NYPD, only to end up benefiting a bunch of beggars. Hahaha, is this some kind of redistribution of social wealth? This could be a contender for Germany's annual worst joke."

Simon had already gotten into the car and taken the bomb out of his briefcase. "Tagore, I don't accept such a meaningless death, and I can't accept my gold being stolen by beggars! These damn fakers want my gold, then they'll pay with their lives!"

He opened the box, and just as he was about to activate the detonation program, a gun appeared from the shadows beside him and was pressed against his forehead. "Put down the bomb in your hand."

Simon froze.

He stiffly raised his head and saw a tall man wearing a small round hat who had somehow circled around to the back of the carriage. Next to him appeared a long-haired man in a suit, his gun also aimed at Targo's head.

Lyon snatched the bomb from Simon's hand, checked it to make sure it hadn't been activated, and carefully placed it aside.

Meanwhile, the battle had already ended.

It was only then that Simon realized that there were not only a group of beggars lying in ambush here, but also two women besides the two tall men beside him.

There was even another blond guy like himself, but he was younger and more handsome.

The King of Bowery Street, dressed in tattered clothes, stepped forward surrounded by a group of beggars. "The underworld of New York belongs to the King of Bowery Street. Of course, I mean the literal underworld. In my world, no matter who appears in the sewers, they cannot escape my notice."

Simon scoffed, "A bunch of beggars, daring to call themselves a kingdom?"

Jin laughed loudly, "Beggars are also subjects of the king! It is precisely these people you would never normally give a second glance to that have become the biggest obstacles on your path forward!"

Simon was so angry his nose almost twisted out of shape. "To hell with beggars!"

He turned his head and stared at John Wick. "Mr. Wick, I know you! The dignified Barbayaga, I never thought you'd end up with a bunch of beggars?"

John, with a blank expression, said, "King is my friend."

Jin shrugged, acknowledging the fact that this friend was someone he had earned by enduring several gunshots back then.

Beside him, Brian clenched his fists in excitement.

Holy crap! I've finally gotten involved in Old Pigeon's criminal activities! And this time it's such a big one, killing so many people!

Murder! Murder! Those corpses are the best evidence!

Although Old Pigeon wasn't present, he was there on Old Pigeon's orders, as were the security chief Leon and the other assassins around him.

huh~~~
Brian took a deep breath. After being undercover for so long, he had finally obtained some useful evidence.

But what happens next?
Huang Mao suddenly felt confused again. Should he report this to the FBI? Old Pigeon had been quite kind to him these past few months, and he'd made many friends at the club. If Old Pigeon were arrested because of this, would Matilda be extremely upset and turn against him?
Other friends in the club will look down on you and then distance themselves from you; you might even be hunted down by Lyon.

At that point, many people will probably want their own lives, as there will be no place for them in New York City.

What should have been a happy occasion turned into a source of distress and sadness for Brian.

Let's take it one step at a time and finish what Old Pigeon asked us to do.

Simon's gaze swept over the group: Night Demon, Leon, King, Brian, and Ishii Oren. Although he didn't recognize many of the people in the group, he felt that the lineup of this group was strange. How the hell did they get together?

“I admit it was my oversight.” Simon smirked. “New York is quite an interesting city, isn’t it? Or are we just incredibly lucky to have met in this godforsaken place like the sewers? So, what do you want?”

Simon gradually calmed down. The fact that these people hadn't killed him immediately but instead spent so much time talking to him meant that they had other intentions.

He glanced at the trucks around him; none of the men checked what was inside.
For a moment, Simon couldn't figure out whether these people were after him or after the gold. It couldn't possibly be a chance encounter in the sewers, could it?

At that moment, Simon saw Lyon hand him a cell phone, from which came a voice that sounded unfamiliar to him.

Luca: "Hello, Mr. Thief, what should I call you?"

Simon was startled. A thief? This guy knew I stole the gold?
"who are you?"

“I’m the owner of those garbage trucks. You can call me Luca the Pigeon.” Luca’s voice, just like when Simon called the police before, was full of superiority. “You stole 14 of my trucks, causing me a great loss. I’m sorry for killing so many of your friends. They were in positions that didn’t belong to them. They have to pay a small price for it.”

Simon's gaze froze. Luca the Pigeon? The garbage truck owner? So this guy came all the way here for a dozen or so garbage trucks, and even killed so many of his men?
Luca: "I'll take those cars, you don't have a problem with that, right? They were originally mine."

Simon: “.”

Wait a minute, this guy just wants the car, doesn't he know there's gold inside?

Simon's gaze swept over the cargo compartment without leaving a trace. The cargo compartment of this dump truck was sealed on all sides, just like a container. When unloading, the compartment could be unloaded directly.

Perhaps, I still have a chance to keep the goods inside?
A sliver of hope flickered in Simon's heart. He took a deep breath: "Pigeon! I'm sorry about the truck. I stole your truck, and you killed my men. Let's call it even, but there's still my cargo on the truck. I can pay you extra to keep my cargo, okay?"

Luca: "What goods are you transporting?"

Simon hesitated for a moment, wondering whether he should tell the truth. The initiative was in their hands now; they could open the cargo box and check at any time.

Lying doesn't seem to make much sense.

But if the pigeons found out that it was full of gold, these greedy guys would definitely pocket all of it.
He thought for a moment and then tentatively said, "This is the customer's secret. I'm just a deliveryman, responsible for escorting the goods. I don't know what's inside."

"Don't you delivery drivers have your own trucks? Why did you have to steal mine?"

"."

How much are you willing to pay to redeem these goods?

"Two million." Simon continued to probe. "Pigeon, I won't make much money from this trip. Two million is the limit I can afford."

“My 14 vehicles combined are worth over 200 million, not enough, 500 million,” Luca laughed. “If you agree, I don’t mind making friends with you and letting you complete this delivery mission.”

Simon was overjoyed. Nice!

500 million can get you 1400 billion worth of gold! There's always a way out!

At that moment, Simon's eyes lit up again, but he still looked troubled: "Pigeon, are you so stingy with your friends? I thought you would be more generous."

"I don't even know my friend's name."

"You can call me Rube."

"Alright, Rube, at least 400 million. With that much money, let's make friends. I hope we can have a pleasant cooperation."

"Deal." Simon breathed a sigh of relief. "Pigeon, if I had known you were such an honest person, I swear I wouldn't have stolen your truck. Maybe your truck was just too attractive; I couldn't find a better one in all of New York."

"Thank you for your compliment. My people will help you drive the truck away and deliver the goods until you transfer the money to my overseas account."

"Okay, no problem, I'll transfer the money as soon as possible."

After hanging up the phone, Simon finally felt a weight lifted off his shoulders.
[Bond: Follow]

You hired an assassin to kill 26 international terrorists and resolved conflicts with the terrorist leader, thus safeguarding peace in New York.

[Gain Skill Points x30]

[Gained 15 Skill Fragments]

[Remaining Skill Fragments: 155]

On the dock.

Jordan answered a phone call from an overseas bank, confirming that a remittance of 400 million yuan had arrived in his account.

He looked at Luca, who was standing beside him facing the sea breeze, with a surprised expression. "Old Pigeon, someone really sent money over! Four million!"

Luca smiled faintly as the wind lifted the corner of his shirt: "Jordan, we've known each other for so long, when have I ever lied to you?"

"Hahaha, Old Pigeon, you're my lucky charm! Mua~~~"

"Stay away from me." Luca shoved Jordan away impatiently. "Remember to launder that money and then put it into the stock market."

"No problem! I've already got my eye on those internet companies. I've already talked to the presidents of Amazon and Cisco. We'll just raise funds directly! You can just wait to make a fortune!"

Amazon is a great website, Luca said with a pleased smile: "Jordan, you'll be the richest man in America someday."

"Hahaha, I'm happy to be second, you should be the richest man, Old Pigeon."

Jordan's words came from the bottom of his heart. Since meeting Old Pigeon, things have gone smoothly for him. He not only got rid of the troubles with the authorities, but also made more money.

They made a considerable profit from the gasoline tax business alone.

Who says only women can make money while lying down? Men can too!
I, Jordan, am going to make money lying on Old Pigeon's bed!
[Bond: Close Friend]

[Unlocking the "Bewitching" Technique]

[Skill Fragment -100]

【Persuasive: When giving a public speech, your words are more persuasive, inspiring, and morale-boosting. The audience is more likely to be persuaded by you by an additional 10% to 30% (depending on your speaking ability).

When communicating by phone, you are more likely to gain the other party's trust, trust +10%; when promoting stocks by phone, trust level increases by an additional 20%.

Luca looked at the additional skills in the list, his smile becoming even more charming. He stretched out his palm, feeling the shape of the wind, and the waves in front of him rose and fell, as if the spine of New York was bending in his palm.

(End of this chapter)