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

Chapter 194 The Death of the Frenchman

Night falls in Boston.

Billy drove towards his house, having just finished meeting with Dickman and received photos of the Frenchman meeting with the police to exchange money. Dickman's plan was to hand these photos over to other leaders within the alliance, such as White Hair, to incite internal strife and allow the alliance to eliminate the Frenchman.

What a disgusting plan!

Billy never imagined that the police would do something so despicable, openly igniting a gang war.

The alliance has finally found some peace, is it about to descend into chaos again?

Billy immediately confronted Dickman, saying, "Are you fucking crazy? I'll be implicated in this too! I'm one of the French, do you think they'll let me off the hook?"

"That's why I sent you with those photos to surrender!" Dickman's eyes were blazing. "I'm saving you! As long as you take those photos, betray the French, and sever ties with them, White Hair and the others won't lay a hand on you."

He stared at the other person with an extremely complex and unfamiliar look in his eyes, "You want me to betray the French?"

"you are not willing?"

Dickman sneered, "You better figure out who you are, figure out who your boss is, and figure out what clothes you're wearing!"
You're a policeman!

After being in the mob for so long, haven't you developed any feelings for the Frenchman? Just because he used to be close to your father and uncle? Just because he used to take care of you?
None of this changes the fact that he's a gangster! You know better than I do how many lives he's taken! Getting rid of him is doing a service to the people!

Billy's gaze went blank for a moment, and he even felt a little dizzy.

Billy's eyes gradually reddened as he grabbed Dickman by the collar and roared, "You have so much evidence, then go and arrest him! Let the law judge him! Put him in jail! Why let the mob judge him? You know what's going to happen, Whitey and his gang will definitely kill the Frenchman!"

Massachusetts currently has no death penalty; the worst that can happen is life imprisonment.

Billy felt this was the Frenchman's destiny, and enough to punish the other party.

He was somewhat moved by compassion.

“He doesn’t have to die! The punishment he deserves is for you to put him in jail!” Billy continued to roar. “You’re a cop! How dare you condone and incite gangsters to kill someone? Do you even deserve to wear this uniform?”

Dickman simply stared coldly at this impulsive, hot-headed young man. Back when he was selecting undercover agents, the guy wasn't like this at all. In the police station office, even when faced with his sarcastic remarks, this kid was able to calmly handle it. He was very meticulous and had a keen eye for observation, even noticing that the socks were on incorrectly.

He has excellent mental fortitude.

In addition, their family background in the underworld led them to choose them as infiltrators.

And now?

This kid is increasingly resembling a violent, impulsive gangster.

Dickman slapped Billy's hand away. "Billy, I told you I'm saving you. If you don't take these photos to surrender, I have other ways to send them out. White Hair and his gang won't let you off the hook either, because you're a confidant of the French."

You now only have one path to take: obey my orders, betray the Frenchman, and send him to hell!

Billy was going crazy. "Why? Why are you forcing me?! You're forcing me to kill someone!!"

By delivering the photos himself, he was undoubtedly the executioner who killed the Frenchman, even if he didn't do it himself.

It was their own actions that pushed the Frenchman into the abyss.

But if you don't do it, you will also be implicated and punished.

Why are you forcing me?
Billy's heart was plunged into an abyss, with no light in sight.

Clinging to his last shred of hope, he asked, "Restore my file. I want to leave the gang now; I don't want to continue like this."

Dickman simply patted him on the shoulder, "Hang in there! The election is just around the corner. You've already made it this far, what's another month?"

Billy lowered his head in anguish, his vision of the future growing increasingly blurred.

When I snapped out of my thoughts, the car was already parked in front of my house.

Billy didn't get out of the car immediately. Instead, he leaned wearily against the driver's seat, lit a cigarette, closed his eyes, and quietly inhaled and exhaled, indulging in this rare moment of peace.

A moment later, he got up, opened the cabinet in front of the passenger seat, and pulled out a police badge from under a hidden compartment.

My fingers gently traced the edge of the police badge, and my fingertips felt a faint stinging sensation.

For the first time, he discovered that the police badge was actually sharper than the gangster's blade, cutting him painfully.

Just then, a burst of bright high beams appeared ahead. Billy instinctively threw his badge under his seat, and several gangsters rushed out of the car, carrying sticks and guns, and ran to the front of the vehicle.

He smashed the glass with a stick and dragged Billy down by force.

Billy was completely stunned as he stared at the gun pointed at him.

Why did it come so fast?
Why would you kill me when I haven't even submitted my photos yet?
Without time to think, his survival instinct spurred him to pull out the photos. "Don't kill me! I have important information to report!"

The bullet almost came out.

After receiving the photos and understanding the situation, the other party took out their phone and called Bai Mao.

Billy didn't know how the other party communicated, but they seemed to have given up on killing him. They then dragged him into another car and drove straight to the Boston docks, where they boarded a cargo ship.

Here, Billy saw the Frenchman, who was bound hand and foot, and several of his close associates, who were beaten bloody and on the verge of death, but not quite dead yet.

Also present were White Hair, the leader of the Mulin Gang, and several other alliance leaders.

A large group of gangsters surrounded the Frenchman and his companions, creating a tense and oppressive atmosphere that made it hard to breathe.

White Hair beckoned to his men to bring Billy over. He stood behind a Frenchman's henchman, holding a gun to the back of the man's head.

The younger brother, with a strip of cloth stuffed in his mouth, was terrified and begged for mercy, but he couldn't utter a single word clearly.

Billy approached and looked at the other man's blood-stained face. He could still vaguely make out the man's features; he had gone with Billy to deliver gasoline a few days ago.

But at this moment, the other party had been beaten beyond recognition and was covered in blood.

A hint of reluctance flashed in Billy's eyes.

"Come stand here." White Hair waved his hand, gesturing for Billy to stand next to him.

Billy had just taken a step when he heard a thud, followed by a warm sensation on his face and a faint smell of blood.

His neck suddenly stiffened, and he mechanically turned his head to look at his former brother on the ground, now a corpse with a gruesome, bloody hole in the back of his head.

White Hair retaliated by whipping the corpse several times with bullets.

"Secretly colluding with the police behind the Alliance's back?" "Giving money to the police?"

"Betray me?"

The white-haired man, also covered in blood, stared coldly at the corpse on the ground, then looked up at everyone present, "Those who disregard the rules of the Alliance will only meet their end in death!"

Everyone present was silent.

White Hair turned around and handed Billy the blood-stained gun with its still-warm barrel. "There's only one way to prove loyalty: tear your own kind apart. Billy, you know what to do. So many people are watching, don't let them down."

Billy was filled with fear, and the gun in his hand felt as heavy as if it weighed a ton.

Too fast! All of this happened too fast. Did White Hair and his men already discover that the Frenchman was a traitor?
Beside him, Bai Mao took the photos from his subordinate, nodded, and thought to himself that these photos were even clearer than Lao Ge's, and the camera angle was also better, so it was obvious that they had been prepared in advance.

Seeing that Billy hadn't made a move, the white-haired man said mockingly, "Weren't you going to report your boss? You even took the photos. What, are you too scared to do it now?"

Upon hearing this, the dejected Frenchman, who had been kneeling on the ground, suddenly raised his head and stared intently at Billy, his eyes flashing with a complex mix of surprise, disbelief, heartache, and anger, as if the son he had raised was not his own.

He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but with a gag in his mouth, he couldn't say anything.

White Hair took another gun from one of his men and aimed it at the other henchmen.

"Billy."

*Thump!* One of the henchmen collapsed. The white-haired man then walked up to another henchman and continued, "You were there on the day the alliance was formed, when the rules were being drawn up. Did you hear me clearly? What are the consequences of breaking the rules and betraying the alliance to the police?"

Bang! Another henchman fell down.

White Hair: "Now we are all one, and everything should be for the benefit of the alliance. I am very fortunate that there are people like you in the alliance who understand the big picture, who did not follow your boss into the same trap, and who know what can and cannot be done."

Bang! Another one dies.

Billy's brow twitched again.

White Hair: "The fact that you were able to take these photos means you've already made up your mind."

boom!
Only the Frenchman is left.

White Hair circled behind the Frenchman, grabbed his hair and pulled it back forcefully, then pulled the gag out of his mouth.

Billy's heart skipped a beat.

The Frenchman coughed twice, staring intently at Billy, his cracked, bloodied lips moving.
He didn't say the many questions he had prepared, even though he had already figured out that Billy was the police mole hiding in the Winter Mountain Gang.

I was clearly the only one who went to see Dickman at the time, so who took the photos? And how did Billy get his hands on them?

Unless he's an undercover agent.

Thinking of this, the Frenchman gave a bitter laugh and spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva. "In the entire Winter Mountain Gang, you are the person I trust the most, Billy. I even brought you to Costello and proudly introduced you to him."

I treated you like a nephew, but you betrayed me.

For a moment, the Frenchman wanted to tell the truth, but hesitated for a second. If he told the truth, Billy would not survive tonight, and it would not save his own life either.

The Frenchman couldn't deny that he did indeed want to collude with the police.

This is a fact.

Revealing Billy now only adds another person to the burial.

His own fate was already sealed, but what about Billy's? After all, he and Billy's father were old friends, and Billy was practically his nephew. Billy still had a chance to live, or else...
boom!
A bloody hole appeared on his forehead.

In the brief moment of inner struggle and hesitation for the Frenchman, Billy pulled the trigger.

In the final moments before his death, the Frenchman saw the faint glimmer of pain in Billy's eyes and his body swaying like a floating weed, as if he might collapse at any moment from exhaustion.

The Frenchman fell to the ground.

White Hair coldly stared at the corpse, took a towel from his underling to wipe his hands, turned and left, then patted Billy on the shoulder, "Well done."

He returned the photo to Billy, saying, "Keep it; it might be the last photo of him before he died."

White Hair and the others left one after another. Billy stood there in a daze, watching his underlings tie stones to the corpses and throw them into the sea.

The ocean is much deeper than a river, and deep-sea fish are carnivorous, so these corpses have no chance to see the light of day.

Billy stood by the ship's bow, watching the corpses splash as they sank to the bottom of the sea and disappeared.

He tore the photograph in his hand; the fragments flew in the wind and landed on the sea, rising and falling with the waves.
At that moment, Billy realized his head wasn't hurting as much anymore.

[Through your indirect influence and efforts, nine notorious Winter Hill gang members died. You upheld the peace of Boston.]

[Gain Skill Points x20]

[Gained 10 Skill Fragments]

Luca stood at the edge of the dock, watching the cargo ships on the sea, while the white-haired man recounted what had happened over the phone.

Upon hearing that Billy had also produced photos, Luca roughly understood what had happened.

—The police also wanted to use the gangs to get rid of some troublesome guys.

Furthermore, we can rule out the Frenchman; he's not an undercover police officer.

Then exclude white hair.

Then very few people will be able to obtain such relevant information.

Now that the Frenchman is dead, the white-haired man has become the biggest boss. He has no rivals left, so who can the police support?
Luca understood.

"I see."

Luca then instructed, "Have Billy come to see me later."

After hanging up the phone, Luca turned and left.

Billy, the young policeman, eventually went down a different path.

Killing a policeman takes only a second, but burying one takes a lifetime.

(End of this chapter)