Reborn in America, I am a legendary short seller on Wall Street.

Chapter 114 Recruiting More People (10,000 words today, please vote!)

Larry arrived back at Paine Weber Securities Company at around 5 p.m.

To his surprise, Mr. K did not leave, but instead stood at the entrance of the business department, idly smoking a cigarette.

When Larry got off the carriage and was asked why he was still waiting there, the old man gave a cynical smile and grinned.
"Look at me, always smoking this lousy cigarette. Have some pity on me and give me a cigar instead..."

Larry smiled, casually pulled a cigar from the mahogany humidor, and handed it to him.

Mr. K unceremoniously took Larry's cigar cutter and special matches, lit his cigar, took a satisfying puff, and then, squinting his eyes, said...
"This tastes off! Boss, this cigar you have tonight is noticeably richer than the one you had at noon... Where did you buy it?"

Larry smiled without saying a word, knowing in his heart that someone with Mr. K's keen sense of smell could not possibly not see anything.
The reason Mr. K had been waiting here might be that he cared about Larry to some extent, but Larry knew that he was more interested in being summoned by a "big shot".

This old guy has been hanging around Northport in Boston for so long, he's not just wasting his time.

Mr. K saw that Larry didn't speak, only smiled faintly, and didn't urge him, but silently smoked his cigar.

Larry looked up at the sky, paused for two seconds, and then said, "That important person you mentioned is extremely stingy... I rushed over at noon, and he didn't even offer me a meal. I'm still hungry. It's getting late now, how about we have dinner together?"

Mr. K raised his eyebrows. "I couldn't be happier! But let me make it clear beforehand, I don't have any money, so you'll have to treat me."

Larry nodded and said, "Then I'll treat you to a cheap restaurant for dinner!"
.
Mr. K followed Larry, making several turns, until they arrived at Boston's Chinatown and entered a Chinese restaurant.

When the restaurant owner saw Larry and Mr. K enter, his expression turned serious. He quickly dismissed the waiter, strode over, and asked in broken English, "..."
"Gentlemen, what would you like to eat?"

This was Mr. K's first time at a Chinese restaurant. He found the strange and unusual furnishings quite interesting, occasionally poking at the small bonsai on the table or the bamboo chopsticks in the chopstick holder with his finger...

Larry looked around and saw that there was only one customer in the Chinese restaurant, eating noodles at the innermost table. After all, it was only a little past 5 o'clock, not yet lunchtime.

Larry found a four-person table, invited Mr. K to sit next to him, and handed him a menu.

Mr. K quickly shook his head and waved his hand, indicating that it was up to him.

Larry smiled, casually ordered a few dishes, and specifically told the restaurant owner, "We'd like noodles for our main course today."

The restaurant owner took down the dishes the customers ordered, smiled, and turned to personally go to the kitchen to prepare them.

"Noodles? Do Chinese people have noodles too?" Mr. K asked, frowning.

Larry smiled and said, "Is it possible that you Italians learned to make noodles from the Chinese?"

“Impossible!” Mr. K waved his hand and said with certainty.

Larry didn't argue with him. Instead, he casually took out a mahogany cigar humidor, placed it on the table, and pushed it to Mr. K.

“A big shot asked me to do him a favor; this was a gift he gave me as a token of our friendship. Now I'm passing it on to you, Mr. K. Our deal has come…”

Mr. K raised his eyebrows, opened the box, and saw that Larry had just taken out a cigar and handed it to him. Now there were only four cigars left.

However, Mr. K didn't take the cigar box. Instead, he frowned slightly and asked, "Is his job difficult? If it's too troublesome, I won't take it! I also suggest you don't take it." Larry calmly shook his head, looking into Mr. K's eyes, and said, "It's not really your business. I just thought of a way to expand... Our convenience store project is going to expand anyway, so I thought, why don't you go and recruit people first? Recruit some honest people from the immigrant community. You're familiar with the Italian community, right? Aren't there many people who can't find work there?"

Mr. K gave Larry an exaggerated smile and exclaimed, "There are just too many! Every day, immigrants from all over the world cross the Atlantic to come to America. If you can provide a salary, I can put together an entire infantry battalion for you..."

"That's good!" Larry tapped the table with his finger, emphasizing his words, "Start recruiting on Sunday, at least twenty! If there are many candidates, they should be around eighteen years old, from clean families, obedient, and not greedy. I need them to do some things later..."

Mr. K nodded and then asked, "...Don't we need to find a few good fighters?"

Larry smirked and lowered his voice, saying, "Find some honest guys, put a gun in their hands, and they'll naturally learn to shoot; but what use is a gun if they're not loyal?"

Mr. K's eyes suddenly lit up, and he raised his eyebrows as he stared into Larry's eyes.

Larry added, "We're looking for kids from good families where both parents are alive and there's harmony. Good people working together are more effective. Besides, we're in the business of legitimate business; we don't need to fight or kill, understand?"

Mr. K nodded in agreement.

At this moment, the restaurant owner personally served stir-fried dishes and noodles, filling the table to the brim.

Larry pulled out his chopsticks, gestured to Mr. K, and then casually picked up a slice of stir-fried beef and started eating.

Mr. K looked at Larry's chopsticks with some confusion, then at the table full of unfamiliar dishes, and asked, "Which plate is mine?"

Although Italians, like the Chinese, value family, the practice of eating separately is a tradition left over from medieval Europe, and Mr. K is still not used to sitting at the table to eat with Larry.

Larry patted his head and said with a smile, "Please pick whatever you like. Just put whichever dish looks good in front of you."

Mr. K frowned and searched for a long time before finally finding two plates and placing them in front of him. However, he didn't know how to use chopsticks, so he took the knife, fork, and spoon that the restaurant had specially prepared for people of European and American descent, and ate a few bites while frowning.

After taking just two bites, Mr. K's eyes lit up, and he quickly pointed at the dish and exclaimed to Larry, "Wow! This is really good, it tastes great!"

Larry glanced at the dish he had chosen; it was a simplified version of Kung Pao Chicken, sweet and sour, just the Italian palate.

After eating a few bites of food, Larry lowered his head and told Mr. K about Mr. Kennedy's request, focusing on parts that didn't involve core secrets.

Mr. K then realized that Senator Kennedy wanted Larry to prepare to deal with the Metropolitan Gaming House.

“Mr. K, you have two tasks. One is to recruit people, and I will use them to do some things, such as placing orders for me at the betting companies…” Larry said to Mr. K in a low voice. “The other task is to help me find out information about the Metropolitan and Rostan gangs. The information should be as detailed as possible.”

Mr. K nodded repeatedly in agreement, while continuing to eat Kung Pao Chicken.

Larry took another $1000 from his wallet, placed it next to the mahogany cigar box, and said leisurely,
"Take this money; you'll need it when you're recruiting these next few days. Remember, Mr. K, my principle for recruiting is loyalty... Follow me, and sooner or later they'll make a fortune. But don't try any tricks; I don't want people who lose sight of the bigger picture. They're too short-sighted to accomplish anything significant."

Mr. K's gaze faltered slightly, knowing Larry's words had a hidden meaning. He turned to look at him, then gathered the mahogany cigar box and the $1000 to his side before smiling and saying...
"No problem, boss!"

(End of this chapter)