Tyrant

It was nine in the evening in Washington, New York, inside a rather upscale coffee shop.

Coffee shops in this era didn't just sell coffee; they also sold alcohol and food.

After the Prohibition Act was introduced in 1920, various mafias began opening coffee shops like crazy. On the surface, they were integrated coffee and restaurant establishments, but in reality, their main sales items were alcohol and illicit goods.

However, there was no prohibition yet in this era, only a few areas might prohibit alcohol due to regional control, such as Strawberry.

An extremely luxurious carriage slowly approached on the street.

Although cars already existed in this era, their development was still too poor, so people of high status still rode in luxurious carriages to highlight their noble identity.

The arrival of this carriage attracted the attention of the coffee shop's customers. Eyes stared at the luxurious carriage, and exclamations of awe erupted.

"Sh*t! This is absolutely the most luxurious carriage I've seen in Washington, even Mr. Green's carriage can't compare to it!"

"Oh, my goodness, look at the bodyguards following behind this carriage; they're all riding good horses! I'm sure the person sitting in this carriage must be a Big Boss! I wonder if I can get to know him!"

The coffee shop buzzed with discussion, and many people's eyes flickered, having already conceived ideas to find a way to meet the person in the carriage.

And by the window on the second floor of the coffee shop, the two men sitting in the booth also looked down at the carriage pulling up below.

"The nouveau riche from the West has arrived," Mr. Green said with a hint of mockery, picking up his coffee and taking a sip.

Europe looking down on America, and the East looking down on the West, had already become a universally accepted custom.

Signor Bronte was in such a position now; even though he rode in such a luxurious carriage, in the eyes of Easterners, he was still just a trashy nouveau riche.

Of course, while Mr. Green's tone carried sarcasm and belittlement, wasn't it also a sign of jealousy?

After all, not everyone could spend money as wantonly as this Signor Bronte from the West.

"Hmph, Signor Bronte is quite interesting. I really can't imagine what kind of business in the West could be so profitable as to allow him to spend money like this.

Since he came to Washington and ostentatiously took over the Tri-District in the west of the city, he's spent fifty thousand dollars in just one short week.

This way of spending money can't be explained by just being rich; even we wouldn't be willing to spend those fifty thousand dollars on various meaningless things."

The middle-aged man sitting next to Mr. Green wore a black suit and didn't look like a member of the mafia.

This was Mr. Smith, a Washington government official, and he was the one who invited Signor Bronte.

The main reason for inviting Signor Bronte was that Signor Bronte appeared to be extremely wealthy.

In just this one short week, the money he threw into casinos alone amounted to thirty thousand dollars. He also splurged ten thousand dollars to buy a car, not to mention his smaller expenditures on accommodation, food, and purchasing a luxurious carriage.

All in all, he must have spent at least fifty thousand dollars this week.

What does fifty thousand dollars mean? Owning fifty thousand dollars in assets in the West would make him a genuine wealthy man.

Fifty thousand dollars in assets might not rank high in the East.

But there are definitely not many people who can casually throw out fifty thousand dollars like trash! The liquid capital in the hands of a Big Boss with a million dollars in assets is probably less than one hundred thousand, and that hundred thousand dollars still needs to be used for various industrial turnovers. A million dollars in assets also means they simply wouldn't dare to casually throw out fifty thousand dollars like this Signor Bronte.

So, from the perspective of invisible wealth, this Signor Bronte is quite enviable.

"So, Mr. Smith, are you so certain that there's an illicit profit chain behind this Signor Bronte?" Mr. Green put down his coffee and elegantly wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.

"Certain and definite. Besides illicit activities and corruption, no one can spend money as wantonly as he does.

Mr. Green, you who are in illicit businesses might spend money like water, but the businessmen I've seen who own their own factories and assets plan every expenditure.

So, I think this Signor Bronte must also have his own purpose. Either he's in illicit business like you, and money flows in like water, or he's using this method to lure some people into a trap."

Mr. Smith lit a high-grade cigar on the table, watching Signor Bronte, who had disembarked from the carriage under Mr. Martelli's service, downstairs.

Signor Bronte wore a black suit, exuding an imposing aura without anger. Years of being a Big Boss had long given him an arrogant demeanor.

And this kind of demeanor is not something an ordinary rich second-generation or an idiot who throws money away can possess.

This further solidified Mr. Smith's conjecture.

Mr. Green smiled calmly and said, "So, that means we are the fish that got hooked?"

"Of course!" Mr. Smith also smiled calmly.

In reality, Mr. Green, who was sitting in front of him, couldn't possibly not understand this principle. If he truly couldn't see through this scheme, he wouldn't be in the position of the Big Boss of Washington's first mafia.

The reason he pretended not to understand was to require Mr. Smith's explanation, thereby currying favor with Mr. Smith.

Of course, Mr. Smith also understood that he was currying favor with him, and Mr. Green also knew that Mr. Smith knew he was currying favor with him.

The reason for still speaking this way was mainly to show their attitudes, with both sides expressing their intentions for cooperation.

One sets up the joke, the other delivers the punchline; there must be both.

Their cooperation concerned Signor Bronte and the illicit profit chain behind him.

During this time, Signor Bronte had actually done quite a few things. The most famous was clearing out a small mafia in the west of the city with a dozen men, each armed with a rifle, and forcefully occupying the area.

Secondly, he gambled away a fortune in the casino. This not only showed his strong, unyielding confidence but also highlighted the terrifying profits behind him.

As a result, he successfully attracted two Big Bosses.

Mr. Smith and Mr. Green at the table stopped speaking. Their gaze turned towards the stairs.

In less than two minutes, Signor Bronte, dressed in a black suit, walked up.

"Hahaha, Mr. Smith, Mr. Green, I've long heard your names. I never thought I'd have the honor of sitting with you today. This truly makes me feel incredibly honored!"

Signor Bronte laughed heartily as he walked over. He extended his hand, wanting to shake hands with the two of them. His fingers were adorned with dazzling, bright gem rings, making him appear inhumanly rich.

Behind him, Mr. Martelli followed a step behind. His brand-new suit accentuated his strong physique, making it immediately clear that he was a ruthless, skilled fighter. The red flower pinned to his chest further highlighted his status as a top enforcer.

When out and about, not in the West, Mr. Martelli stood exceptionally straight, looking at everyone with disdain, wanting to fight everyone.

During this time, not only did Signor Bronte's name become known, but Mr. Martelli's name also made a splash.

As Signor Bronte's top enforcer, his performance was incredibly brutal, incredibly strong, and his combat prowess was high. He was the person Mr. Green paid the most attention to.

If possible, he wanted to poach this young man to work for him.

However, this young man had a peculiarity: before beating someone, he always liked to ask for the opponent's name.

If he heard the person's name was Arthur or John Davey, he would then cautiously test the opponent's skill level first. If the skill level was very low, then the most brutal methods would await these people.

He has currently been nicknamed in Washington: 'Who are you, Tyrant!'