Chapter 23: Meeting the Godfather

Upon arriving at the Plaza Hotel, George booked a high-end business suite and sent an email to Paul at the front desk, asking him to come to New York after completing the patent. He attached the hotel's address.

After showering and changing clothes, George took the hotel car to Rodgersdale Clothing Store, a renowned tailor in New York. Unlike future generations, bespoke shops back then were more accessible and sold ready-to-wear clothing. George bought four complete outfits—shirts, ties, trench coats—and ordered two custom suits, promising to have them delivered to his hotel. He left a $2,000 cash check and the hotel address, then headed to a nearby shoe store where he purchased two pairs of handmade leather shoes and two handmade fedoras. Though he didn't like wearing hats, he bought them out of courtesy.

Remembering it was his first time meeting Vito Corleone, George decided not to arrive empty-handed. He visited a nearby antique shop. A row of China porcelain caught his eye, but he moved on, deciding it wasn't the right time for acquiring Chinese antiques.

An elderly shopkeeper approached. "Hello, sir. Looking for something specific?"

"A gift for a Sicilian friend," George replied. "Do you have any recommendations?"

"Certainly." The man pointed to an oil painting. "This depicts beautiful Sicily."

George couldn't tell how it represented Sicily, but he humored the idea. "How much?"

"Two hundred dollars."

George laughed. "You're kidding."

They eventually settled on $95. George paid, had it carefully wrapped, and left with the gift.

Back at the hotel, he bathed, changed into one of his new outfits, and prepared himself. With his confident demeanor, tall stature, and sharp attire, he looked nothing like the man from a few months ago—more like a young nobleman.

As the saying goes, "Clothes make the man."

At the hotel's entrance, he saw the driver Tessio had arranged waiting across the street. George got in with the gift, and the car set off for the Corleone estate.

George assumed Vito Corleone had only recently become the Godfather. He'd killed Fanucci just three years ago, embarking on his path in the Mafia. Vito would be around thirty now, still in his prime. In the films, he was always steady and wise, seemingly unshakable.

Was George excited? Maybe a little. But in this Marvel Universe filled with superpowers, Vito belonged to a different world. Meeting him was more of a nostalgic nod to George's past life.

At Corleone's estate, George was led to a study—its layout strikingly similar to the one from the movie, giving George a strange sense of déjà vu.

At the doorway stood a 30-year-old Vito Corleone.

"Mr. Corleone, hello. I'm George Orwell. This is a gift for you. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Vito, not yet the legend he'd become, treated George with respect. The partnership already brought him nearly a million dollars in monthly income.

"I'm pleased to meet you, my friend. Please, have a seat."

They sat. "What would you like to drink?" Vito asked.

"Coffee is fine, thank you."

Coffee was served. George sipped lightly.

"George," Vito said, "we're friends, right? Let's drop the formalities. I'll call you George; you call me Vito."

"Of course, Vito. We are friends."

Both smiled.

"Your liquor business has brought me much convenience. I owe you a favor, my friend."

George understood. Vito had used the liquor trade to consolidate power after taking leadership.

George replied, "It's mutual benefit. I chose Corleone because I heard you're family-oriented and have ties to Pang Bo. That made you my top choice."

"Thank you, my friend."

They talked more about family, business, and the future. George proposed a new venture: laundromats. A perfect front for money laundering, laundromats also provided jobs for the families of Vito's enforcers.

Vito offered George a share of the profits, but he declined. He didn't want to be too entangled in Mafia affairs—not yet, at least.

George knew the Mafia's golden age lay ahead. Within ten years, smuggling alcohol and tobacco would bring massive wealth. But as cocaine infiltrated the underworld, the Mafia Council would eventually collapse.

Vito was wise, but George had no illusions about controlling him. He wasn't the kind of transmigrator who commanded instant loyalty. He'd build his power step by step.

After dinner and a little more conversation, George excused himself.

The next morning, George checked out and flew as a peregrine falcon to PL Winery, where he rested before summoning John.

John arrived and reported that contracts could be signed in a week. The lawyers would handle the rest.

A week later, in a larger bank meeting room, under the eyes of 30 people, George signed the contract and paid $1.1 million, officially becoming the largest landowner in Walker Town. The town mayor shook his hand and invited him to visit.

George didn't linger. After signing, he paid handling fees and wrote John a $1,500 bonus check. The acquisition was done.

The following day, George gathered about 100 workers in the town square. He gave a speech to reassure them, then retained winemakers from each winery and placed them under Allison's management. Any future changes will be announced later.

He gave Lane $10,000 in cash to renovate the wineries. The plan included separating grape and whiskey production zones and building large-scale brewing bases and cellars. The PL Winery would eventually produce six types of red wine and a unique Canadian whiskey, totaling 6 million liters annually.

Properly stored alcohol only grew more valuable. George decided that the top-tier wine each year would only be auctioned. With the Mafia's distribution network, his wine could spread across America within a decade.

Back then, drinks in underground bars were costly: beer at 50 cents, wine at $5, and whiskey at $1 per glass. High-end options were reserved for elite venues.

George's wine—like what he gave Corleone—was destined for those circles. If Corleone couldn't handle distribution alone, George would involve the other Mafia Families, or even the Hong Brotherhood. But logistics would be a challenge.

In the days that followed, George stayed at the winery, practicing Ninjutsu.

All Shadow Clones were recalled, except those reading in libraries. They sent him vast knowledge, including his latest breakthrough—the Rasengan.

After months of practice, George could now form it one-handed. He dispersed it, then summoned his bone-colored Sagittarius Gold Armor. Its wings, now retractable, could launch feather projectiles and allowed flight, though not as fast as the alcon form.

George stored the armor again. Now, he had no weaknesses:

Long-range: Deadshot's skills and sniper rifles.

Close combat: martial arts and Three Body Technique.

Defense: bone armor.

Physical abilities: enhanced by Heart-Shaped Grass and Chaos Energy.

Mental power: strong.

A true all-rounder.

Therefore, he extended his next item extraction to one year. Monthly draws added value, but wouldn't transform him anymore.

— End of Chapter 23 —

Translator's Note:

Thank you for reading Chapter 23! I hope you're enjoying George's journey. Please share your thoughts, correct any mistakes you spot, and don't forget to toss me a Honey Power Stone! 🍯