Entering the Market

"Have a seat, Signor Bronte."

Green didn't even stand up; he simply sat on the sofa and nodded faintly at Signor Bronte as he approached.

It's unclear if these two were playing good cop/bad cop, but Mr. Smith was much more enthusiastic.

"Smith, it's a pleasure to meet you, Signor Bronte from the West." Mr. Smith grasped Signor Bronte's hand, smiling as he gently pressed him into a seat, but emphasized the word "West" in his speech.

Signor Bronte forced a smile and nodded, saying, "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Smith. Hohoho, I didn't expect Mr. Green to be here; it's quite a surprise. Mr. Green, actually, we are the same kind of people, exactly the same kind, just in different places."

"There's no need to try to build a relationship, Signor Bronte. I've heard of you, the notorious Big Boss of the Italian Mafia family in Saint Denis, the local emperor of the West. While it's true we're in the same business, I don't believe we're on the same level. To be honest, Signor Bronte, although both you and I run illicit businesses, you don't even have the qualifications to meet me. The only reason I'm sitting here today is to give Mr. Smith some face. In my opinion, you are nothing; you are merely a savage from the West!"

Mr. Green's disparagement was utterly merciless, even outright, as if he were about to spit in Signor Bronte's face.

Ah!

Listening to this blatant denigration, Signor Bronte felt as refreshed as if he had been doused with cool water from head to toe on a hot summer day.

This scene felt familiar!

He remembered a time he had similarly disparaged Mr. Van der Linde, only to be thrown into a mine shortly after.

And now, he was on Mr. Van der Linde's side...

Signor Bronte smiled, a genuine smile. He felt that this aggression was simply too low, incomparable to Mr. Van der Linde.

Signor Bronte was immune!

"Hahaha, Mr. Green, Mr. Smith, we are all the same kind of people, so there's no need for these pretenses. I know what you want, and you know what I want, so this is why you called me, and why I came. Let's drop the sh*t! and discuss the outcome directly." Signor Bronte completely disregarded Mr. Green's sarcasm and sat directly opposite the two of them.

Mr. Green stared silently into his calm eyes. After a long while, he suddenly burst into laughter.

"Hahahahaha, good, good, good, Signor Bronte, you are absolutely right, we are indeed the same kind of people. Sir, get Signor Bronte a cup of coffee."

Smith interjected with a laugh, "I apologize, Signor Bronte, you know, we have to test the waters to avoid dealing with fools and implicating ourselves. And now, as you wish, let's talk openly and honestly."

"We know you came from the West, an expatriate member of the Italian Mafia family, and are now the Big Boss in the West.

We just don't know why you would go to such lengths to come here and painstakingly lure us out. Do you have a specific purpose? Or do you have a specific channel?"

Signor Bronte casually took out a cigar from the table and lit it, then looked at Mr. Smith and said, "Of course I have a purpose, Mr. Smith.

Since you've investigated me so thoroughly, you must have a clearer understanding of the attack in West City a week ago, right?

I wonder if you found any special results in your investigation?"

"Special results?" Mr. Green's brow furrowed as he looked at Mr. Smith. He had indeed heard about the incident, but his subordinates had only told him that the exchange of fire was exceptionally violent, with continuous gunshots. He hadn't heard of anything particularly unusual.

Mr. Smith also frowned, not quite understanding the meaning.

"Special circumstances? Signor Bronte, I admit your firepower was indeed very fierce, the bullets almost destroyed the entire venue, and your subordinates were indeed very powerful, but this... oh, sh*t!"

Mr. Smith hadn't even finished speaking when an expletive burst out.

He remembered, damn it, the traces of gunfire at the scene were simply too brutal, bullets were everywhere as if they were free...

So, where did Signor Bronte get so many weapons and bullets?

Their controlled firearm channels had not received any news about Signor Bronte purchasing weapons in large quantities.

If combined with Signor Bronte's hint just now, then his channel was already obvious... firearms!

Seeing Mr. Smith's shocked expression, Mr. Green guessed it with a slight thought.

However, he remained calm, watching the confrontation between Mr. Smith and Signor Bronte.

"Signor Bronte, this is illegal!"

"And what business of ours isn't illegal?" Signor Bronte said indifferently.

"Save it, Mr. Smith, we all know how to manipulate so-called laws, so don't bother telling me that. You don't need to test me anymore; I'll tell you the truth, my purpose in coming here this time is to open up channels in Washington and even the entire East. You know, the Western market is too small to consume so much." Signor Bronte waved his hand indifferently.

"That's impossible, Signor Bronte, I don't know how you got these... damn things, but every gun company has people, you can't seize the Eastern market!" Mr. Smith flatly refused.

"Don't joke, Mr. Smith, you and I both know how many black market arms dealers there are in Washington! This is an endless stream of money, Mr. Smith, I can't consume it all, the West can't consume it all, and even you can't consume it all, so you can bring in more people, and then we'll have enough leverage to divide this so-called channel! Mr. Smith, an endless stream of money!" Signor Bronte refused to budge, offering the allure of profit.

"Ha! An endless stream of money? How much production can you have? Do you know the output of these gun companies?" Mr. Smith waved his hand and sneered, portraying an upright and unyielding stance.

"We have heavy weapons, Mr. Smith, and they're not produced by me; they're military channels shipped in from Cuba through French connections!" Signor Bronte extinguished his cigar, leaning forward cautiously and whispering to Mr. Smith.

Mr. Smith's pupils contracted slightly, and then he sat up straight.

"Cuba... French..."

France was an undisputed powerful nation at the time, and everyone knew that Cuba had French backing, so when Bronte mentioned the French as the people behind it, the conversation elevated to a new level.

Under these circumstances, Mr. Smith's uprightness completely transformed into a weighing of pros and cons.

Mr. Smith was stunned for a long time. Finally, he couldn't help but ask in a low voice, "Can you ensure ample production and stable channels?"

"Of course, Mr. Smith. The French, citing the need to ensure the smooth operation of their Cuban actions, applied to France for a firearms manufacturing plant. It has a full ten production lines and can continuously expand. Moreover, it can also produce heavy firepower weapons. So... why can't this channel be opened? This is an endless stream of money, Mr. Smith! I can't handle it, I'm practically dying of anxiety!"

Signor Bronte anxiously crumpled the cigar in his hand.

Mr. Smith let out a long breath and sat back in his seat. Finally, a bright smile bloomed on his face: "Signor Bronte, I will be hosting a banquet this Saturday. Please be sure to attend on time. I will invite some people to discuss the situation regarding this matter with you."