While in America, the system says Roosevelt was an emperor.

The next day, Tom ate the white meal his mother made as usual, tidied himself up, and then drove to the Corleone family's hideout.

Yesterday, Father Vito promised Tom that a cleansing operation would be carried out tonight, and Tom is going to inquire about the results.

Things went more smoothly than Tom had imagined; in just one night, the criminal gangs in the entire central constituency were completely wiped out.

Moreover, it perfectly meets Tom's requirements—it hardly interferes with the lives of ordinary people.

Tom directly instructed Godfather Vito to invite all the major mafia gangs to a meeting in the afternoon in the name of the Corleone family to discuss the "taxation" plan.

As soon as the news was released, all the invited gangs immediately replied that they would definitely come to the meeting.

Just kidding, cleaning up an entire municipal constituency in a day and a night, who wouldn't respect that terrifying power?

Moreover, they all had connections and had inquired about the Finance Bureau and Tom's situation.

Tom's making such a big move, only a fool wouldn't ask about it.

I don't know if I don't ask, I'm startled when I ask.

Tom Smith graduated from Yale Law School, one of the most prestigious schools in the United States.

After graduation, he joined the New York City Department of Finance, which is under the jurisdiction of the federal Treasury Department, and became a civil servant.

A few days ago, the Department of Finance held a plenary meeting, at which the New York City Department of Finance Commissioner personally appointed Tom as the tax collector for the two counties.

If you didn't know that Tom almost "used his looks to seduce men," Tom's resume would seem very impressive, and he might be the illegitimate son of some big shot.

The meeting was scheduled to begin at 3:30 p.m., but representatives of various factions began to enter the venue one after another before 3 p.m.

Thomas Muller, leader of the Devil's Stick in the Southern constituency

Nikola Kovich, brother of the head of the Kovich family in the northern constituency

Tim Shelby, leader of the Western Razor Party,

Moore Jackson, leader of the Blood Lions gang in the western constituency.

Wu Ailian, the only woman present and the leader of the Fuxing Association branch in the eastern constituency;

As for the representatives of the Holy Mother Alliance and the Bald Head Gang, they were nowhere to be seen until 3:30.

There were eight gangs in the meeting room, which had nine seats. Tom sat in the head seat, with Vito Corleone, the godfather of the Corleone family, to his left and Wu Ailian of the Fuxing Society to his right.

The other five men sat around the desk, each with two personal attendants standing behind them, except for Tom.

At 3:30, Tom glanced at his watch, cleared his throat, and said:

"It's time. Let's begin the meeting to discuss tax collection matters in each constituency..."

Before Tom could finish speaking, a middle-aged man dressed in Tsarist Russian aristocratic attire entered the office with two subordinates.

Before Tom could even ask a question, the middle-aged man proactively said ingratiatingly:

"Your Excellency the tax collector, and to all my future colleagues, I apologize for being late."

"My name is Yevgeny Vladimir Alexander Andrei Zhinevsky. On behalf of the Holy Mother League, I once again apologize to everyone, especially the tax collector."

"I brought out my ancestral noble attire to wear mainly so that I could meet the tax collector. I was a little slow getting dressed."

Tom looked at the clothes and felt they were even harder to wear than Chinese official robes; the medals and accessories alone weighed dozens of kilograms.

But Tom wasn't going to let him off the hook, pointing to his watch and saying:

"It's already 3:30. No matter how nicely you talk, you're still late."

Being late is disrespectful to this meeting, and even more so to me.

"If you don't respect me, then I don't need to respect you either."

Yevgeny took a gold pocket watch from his pocket, opened the cover, placed it in Tom's hand, and said ingratiatingly:

"Tax collector, your watch might be inaccurate. Look, it's only 3:25. I'm not late."

Tom touched the solid gold pocket watch in his hand; judging from its texture, it seemed to be over a hundred years old.

Putting aside its historical value, the gold on it alone is worth at least several hundred dollars.

"You can't hit a smiling face," Tom said, tossing his pocket watch into his pocket with one hand and pointing to two empty seats with the other.

"It is indeed 3:25. You're not late. Find a seat."

Yevgeny, his face full of flattery and gratitude, replied:

"Thank you for your understanding, tax collector."

Yevgeny actually arrived earlier than anyone else today, driving to the Corleone family's hideout around 1 p.m. and waiting in his car to be there right on time to enter.

Yevgeny did all this in order to conveniently bribe Tom.

Bribery is also an art.

Everyone here isn't stupid; they all saw through it. How could it be such a coincidence? Being late was just an excuse; their real intention was to bribe someone by arriving right on time.

Several gang leaders cursed inwardly:

"What kind of gang gives gifts before a meeting? Are you even a gang leader anymore?"

"Yevgeny, how can you be so cowardly? Why don't you dare fight Tom!"

Yevgeny ignored the stares of others. He was a nobleman's servant who had fled from Tsarist Russia. He had killed a nobleman on his escape and then claimed to be a Tsarist nobleman who had fled from Russia.

Relying on his noble status, Yevgeny founded the League of Our Lady, whose main sphere of influence was in the Russian immigrant community.

Yevgeny was well aware of the terror of government power; the Tsarist imperial family, which had ruled Russia for hundreds of years, could not even save their lives in the face of the new regime.

Tom waited until Yevgeny was seated, then pointed to the empty seat and said:

"Remove the last chair."

Connie moved the chair away and had just returned behind Vito when three bastards—no, three bald men—burst into the conference room.

Needless to say, the three bald men are the representatives of the Bald Gang.

The bald man swaggered into the conference room, surveying everyone as if he were inspecting his territory.

When he saw Moore Jackson, a Black man, the disgust in his eyes was almost overflowing.

But Black people weren't what he disliked the most; what he disliked the most was Wu Ailian, and he wished he could kill Wu Ailian on the spot.

Are women with yellow skin even qualified to sit at the table and attend meetings?

The bald man said directly to Tom:

"Hey kid, where's my place?"

Tom gave a cold laugh, then replied indifferently:

"Hmph~, find a seat yourself."

The bald man walked around the conference room a few times and realized there were no seats at all, understanding that Tom was playing a trick on him.

The bald man's face turned red, and he said with a hint of anger:

Where is my seat?

"Why didn't you prepare anything for me, you brat!"

"I'm already being lenient by even attending a meeting like yours, with your bunch of scoundrels and lowlifes. I was only a few minutes late because of traffic, why can't I even sit down?!"

Instead of answering the bald man directly, Tom asked with considerable interest:

"Traffic jam? What kind of car are you driving that causes traffic jams?"

The bald man, not quite grasping the concept, instinctively replied:

"Mercedes-Benz, a genuine German-made Mercedes-Benz."

Tom, with a smile on his face, said:

"We all drive Fords, Studebakers, American cars, while you drive a Mercedes, a European car. No wonder you get stuck in traffic!"

"Since you're riding in a European car, it means you don't want to live in America at all, and you're not qualified to participate in this meeting."

"Get out, get out of this meeting room."