Chapter 303

The Don of the Stracci family was named Anthony Stracci. He not only controlled the gambling industry in New Jersey and the shipping industry in Manhattan, but the manpower influenced by his industries and the votes he controlled naturally linked him to politics—this was the only way to develop. To have money and influence but no corresponding implementation means was extremely stupid. Whether in the East or the West, once development reaches a certain level, one must involve politics; one cannot avoid it even if one wants to. Therefore, the Stracci family had operated for many years and was very close to some members of the Democratic Party.

They were also quite good at playing the game. Shipping inevitably involved logistics and land transport, so they owned a fairly large fleet of freight trucks. And the protective umbrella they had woven allowed their trucks to operate while overloaded without being stopped by highway weight inspectors and fined a significant amount.

The road design itself had a load limit and lifespan; the roads they frequently traveled while overloaded would definitely be crushed. And they also had a road and bridge construction company that signed contracts with the state government, turning around to repair the roads and making another profit. It was a perfect closed loop, absolutely a good business—making money while lying down, with no risk, which made people envious.

However, their strength, apart from the many small gangs and hoodlums struggling in the cracks of New York, was the weakest among the big families. But Anthony didn't think so; anyway, everyone's hoodlum strength was basically on the same level, the territories were clearly divided, and while businesses overlapped slightly, there was more cooperation. To say the Corleone family was the strongest, they were only strong in political influence—of course, this was the key, which was what they wanted but couldn't obtain.

They had plenty of money, and even if they wanted to give it to others to spend, others wouldn't take it—this was old Corleone's ability. Only old Corleone could do it; he was convinced, but not afraid. This confidence came from his cooperation with other families—acknowledging the Corleone family's leading status, but they had also formed an alliance of interests, not letting the Corleone family do whatever they wanted. In general, it was a tangled mess where you had me and I had you.

Thinking of his hoodlum empire growing stronger day by day, and his wealth and status increasing, Anthony, sitting in the luxurious sofa in his study at the ranch in the suburbs, drank a large gulp of Mexican tequila with satisfaction. Feeling the slight numbness on the tip of his tongue, he swallowed the wine, feeling it travel down his throat and esophagus all the way to his stomach. Refreshing, he closed his eyes and lay on the sofa, feeling the aftertaste of the wine.

Just then, a "bang" of a gunshot broke the silence of the night. Anthony opened his eyes instantly, looking around like an eagle. He was thinking about what evil thing he had done recently to attract trouble, and who wanted to kill him.

As for safety, he was very confident. This was his base camp, and the nearby houses were all filled with his people, with more than a dozen gunmen guarding him. He even mocked the gunmen who came to kill him in his heart for being idiots, not knowing how to follow him when he was out and act when he had fewer people around him.

Before long, a young gunman who was one of his guards ran in: "Godfather, we should go."

"Go?" Anthony glanced at his wife, who was still in shock behind him, and frowned at his subordinate: "Why should we go? How many people do they have?"

The gunman shook his head: "Not clear."

And just in the time it took to say these few words, the gunfire outside intensified. Listening closely, there were also many sounds of submachine guns. Based on the idea that safety came first, Anthony grabbed his coat, took his wife's hand, and followed the gunman to the back door, wanting to get into a car and escape.

Just then, a burst of bullets flashed with fire and rushed into Anthony's chest. The gunman beside him had just tried to counterattack when he was also shot dead by random gunfire. Looking at the elderly woman who was overly frightened and screaming, Camas glanced at her and waved for his subordinates to follow him and kill the others.

The gunfire lasted for a while, and a group of more than ten people got into several cars and drove away. Left behind were only corpses, blood, burning houses, and the woman standing outside, crying helplessly as she watched the raging fire...

At the same time, Anthony's eldest son was shot on his way home, and his second son was strangled to death while sleeping at his mistress's house. Near the Manhattan West Side pier, a leader belonging to the Stracci family who controlled dozens of subordinates had his soul return to the sea. More than a dozen other high-ranking members of the Stracci family, including the family strategist, all died.

The next day, Leo Correa invited the remaining subordinates of those leaders, or those who had been in the limelight recently, to hold a gathering at a farm in the suburbs. Amidst delicious and dazzling food, all kinds of spirits, and Leo Correa's passionate speech, supplemented by the help of Camas, Val, and other friends, and under the deterrence of the three people who fell during the gathering, Leo Correa was jointly acknowledged by those present. They were willing to join the Correa family and create brilliance together.

That night, through Leo's phone calls, he successfully restored contact and established friendship with some members of the Democratic Party who had previously been on good terms with the Stracci family. Of course, all of this was inseparable from Vito Corleone's generous help.

It was still that fortress of the Corleone family, still that study. Except for Leo, who appeared behind, it was still those people, still the same seating arrangement. This was the second day of Leo's rise to power. It had been a month since the last meeting, and this time Wang Yan could be considered to have gained true respect. Even the irritable and hot-tempered Santino didn't look at him with the same arrogance as last time.

Wang Yan raised his glass with a chuckle and clinked it with Vito, while signaling to the others: "Thanks again for the help of the Corleone family."

Vito, who was clearly in better spirits, drank a large gulp of wine. After catching his breath, he waved his hand: "No need to say more, we are friends, aren't we, Wang?"

"Of course." Wang Yan nodded affirmatively and continued: "We are newcomers, and we are not very clear about some rules and such. Now we have only initially grasped the legacy of the Stracci family and are far from forming combat effectiveness. So for the family meeting in a few days, I still need Mr. Corleone to take care of us."

"Don't worry, Leo will be respected. You wiped out the Stracci family overnight; with such strength, no one dares to underestimate you."

"Then many thanks to Mr. Corleone." Wang Yan clinked glasses with Vito again and said with a smile: "I see your physical state and mental state are much better than when we met a month ago. Did you take the medicine I sent?"

Vito nodded: "Of course, Wang. I listened to your words, took a pill every morning, and then jogged for a while in this courtyard. After lunch, I usually take a nap for a while. Just like that for a month, and now I feel my body is about the same as when I was forty."

"Although I would very much like to say you have been forty all along, I have to tell you, Mr. Corleone, that is an illusion. It is a false feeling brought about by the growth of physical fitness; you must not take it seriously." Wang Yan spoke jokingly. This was the side effect of the effect being too strong—he had no sense of proportion. Even though Vito had always been cautious and restrained, it was useless; no one could resist the huge temptation of the body getting better and indirectly extending life.

As for Vito saying he had taken it for a month, Wang Yan didn't believe it. Not to mention that he himself was a master of TCM, just looking at the complexion of the strategist Genco sitting beside Vito, he should know that he had also taken the medicine. And Vito's complexion was much better, but he definitely hadn't taken it for a month—it was about half a month at most.

Of course, Wang Yan didn't care about that, as long as Vito took it. After personally feeling the changes in his body, he would definitely promote it to his politician friends or win over new friends. All rich people would want to be healthier and live longer; otherwise, the vast wealth they controlled would be useless. The greatest tragedy in life, "people die, money is not spent," was indeed happening to them.

Although living for a while longer wouldn't make it possible to spend all that wealth, one could enjoy it as much as one could, and one wouldn't care about the money to buy medicine. Although fifty thousand dollars was nearly fifty years of wealth for an ordinary American worker at the time...

Vito laughed and accepted the unfunny joke, and asked the key question: "Wang, what is the production volume of that medicine?"

"Now we can only produce thirty bottles a month."

"So little?" Vito frowned: "Can't you increase production? If you don't have enough money, I can invest to help you."

"It can only be like this in the short term. You must know that the medicine we use is transported from the distant China, and many of the medicinal materials are rare and precious. These medicinal materials absorb the essence of heaven and earth, and it may take years, decades, or even a hundred years to grow to a usable state. And many medicinal materials grow in hidden places, such as cliffs or jungles where poisonous miasma is rampant. Finding them is one aspect, and the work of picking medicine is also very dangerous—it is picked with human lives. Now China is at war, and it is even more difficult to harvest medicinal materials. So, it is already very good to have so many now."

Wang Yan wasn't lying; he had indeed sent people to get those expensive medicinal materials, all of which were verifiable. As for whether these rare medicinal materials would be gone or in short supply later, it didn't matter; he was collecting medicinal materials now. He already had a draft for his next step, which was to return to China in person, find the organization, and partner to set up a company. Then he would take these goods back and forth on the sea to play, just to bluff...

This must be done in cooperation with the organization, because after peace comes, various port inspections will be difficult to deal with if he doesn't smooth things over. Of course, he was also willing to send US dollars. Although this was not the real world, it was the same, and money was just a number to him. As long as he developed beyond the same period in real history, he would be happy.

And he also thought about bluffing those rich people into setting up longevity laboratories, and occasionally producing some results, simplified and efficient, which was also fine—very safe.

After a long silence, Vito spoke slowly in a hoarse voice: "I want all the goods, at the fifty thousand dollars a bottle you said."

"Impossible, Mr. Corleone." Wang Yan shook his head repeatedly: "I know you have many friends, but we also have to make new friends, and there is nothing better than using this medicine to make friends. It has no registration information, is not in the product catalog, and is absolutely safe; its production is scarce, its effect is obvious, and it might even double in price when resold to those who need it. I really can't think of anything better than this medicine; it is destined to circulate only among the nobles and gentlemen of the world."

It would have been fine if he hadn't said that, but after saying this, Vito wanted to take it even more.

Vito stared into Wang Yan's eyes and said seriously: "Wang, it is of course very important for you to make new friends, and I cannot destroy your plan. But Wang, believe me, my friends are far more important than your friends. Just like the few people the Stracci family knew, their status and status do not match this medicine. I think you should understand that sending it out rashly will only lower the status of this medicine and benefit those greedy small characters in vain. We are friends, we have no conflict of interest, now and in the future, we are all close partners on a unified front. If you have any difficulties, my friends will also help you."

Wang Yan looked troubled and sat there drinking and thinking. Vito's meaning was very clear: as long as those medicines were given to him, then everyone would be close brothers, your business would be my business, and if there was anything, just say it.

No one else spoke, holding their breath, drinking silently, waiting for Wang Yan's decision. Everyone present, even the most irritable Santino, and even Leo, the puppet with the lowest status sitting behind Wang Yan, were not stupid. Everyone knew that if Wang Yan agreed and signed an agreement for the Corleone family to cover all the production of the medicine, the benefit to the Corleone family would be great.

After a long while, Wang Yan seemed to have made a great determination and drank the wine in his glass in one gulp: "Mr. Corleone, I have to admit that you are right. The time cost of making friends is very high. So I decided that in the next year, I will give you thirty bottles every month. If I am lucky sometimes and produce more, then I will use the extra to make friends. However, I have a request, and I hope you can agree."

Vito nodded with satisfaction: "Just say it, Wang, we are friends."

"I want to open a casino in Las Vegas and need a gambling license."

"No problem, Wang, I will solve this problem for you next month." Vito agreed without thinking: "Then when can you give me the medicine?"

"You can send someone to follow us back to get it in a while. These medicines were made yesterday, and they are at my home."

"Very good." Vito turned to signal to the strategist Genco.

The old partner who had cooperated for half a lifetime naturally understood Vito's meaning, and immediately took out a checkbook from the briefcase at his feet, bent down, filled in the numbers on the coffee table, and presented it to Vito.

Taking the check, Vito looked at the number, placed it gently in front of Wang Yan: "Wang, this is one and a half million, happy cooperation."

"Refreshing." Wang Yan didn't even look at it, handed it to Leo behind him, and raised his glass to clink with Vito: "Happy cooperation."

He didn't wonder why Genco could write a check for one and a half million, after all, Vito Corleone had been careful all his life, and his information, except for the many insignificant details mastered by the FBI, was mostly without his name appearing on other companies, phone addresses, residences, all money, etc.

Of course, it was precisely because of this that those politicians and others would accept his kindness and conclude friendships with him. And other families wanted to spend money but couldn't spend it, which was "not secret."

After drinking the wine, Wang Yan stood up and shook hands with Vito: "The matter has been settled, so we won't disturb you anymore. Who will go back with me to get the medicine?"

Vito, who also stood up, looked back at Santino and Tom, and said: "Let the two of them go with you."

"Alright, that's it, goodbye, Mr. Corleone."

"I'll see you off."

When he came for the first time, only Tom Hagen saw them off, but now the Don of the Corleone family saw them off in person, and the rise in status was obvious.

A group of people said goodbye at the villa door with laughter. Wang Yan and Leo got into the subordinate's car, and Santino drove Tom to follow. After a car ride of more than half an hour, they returned home to take the thirty bottles of medicine that had been packed, and sent the two away.

Watching the car go away, Wang Yan looked at Leo standing beside him: "Take this money to Las Vegas to buy a piece of land, find someone to design and build a building. I will tell you the specific requirements after you buy it, go."

"Yes, sir." Leo nodded respectfully and turned to leave. He had to work cleanly and neatly; he didn't even want to eat dinner and wanted to take people to fly over now.

Opening a casino to make money was one aspect, mainly because the casino was a cash-intensive industry, and with the imperfect laws and regulations now, it could be washed in large quantities. There were also other channels such as art, antiques, real estate, land, finance, etc., specifically for money laundering. During the time he arrived in America, Leo and other subordinates, as well as professional lawyers and financial talents who had been recruited, had already built a channel. They didn't take business from outsiders and only washed the proceeds from the war wealth.

The US dollar was indeed hard now, and during the World War, the prices of land and other things fell sharply. He didn't even know how much land he had, as well as other forests and other messy things, which were all resources.

Now he had taken the wharf and port, involving logistics, so naturally, the next step was to get a few big ships to start international trade, which was absolutely a profitable business. Now the standard container had not appeared, and the contribution of the container to world trade was unquestionable. He planned to find someone to make it recently and use it first.

Ignoring the father-in-law who was fiddling with the lawn at the door, Wang Yan turned and returned to the villa, holding Malèna and sitting on the sofa, touching her stomach and whispering sweet nothings.

Malèna lay comfortably in Wang Yan's arms: "Dear, have you thought of a name for the child?"

"It's only been a month since you got pregnant, there's still a long time."

"Better think about it first, so as not to be in a hurry when the time comes. You hurry up, dear, think of names for both boys and girls."

"Hey, got it." Wang Yan looked at Malèna, who was looking up at him in his arms: "How about Xili if it's a boy, and Xila if it's a girl? You know, Malèna, I have no faith, so our children will not have baptismal names."

Wang Yan really didn't care about names; to put it bluntly, it wouldn't matter if they were called "Dog Leftover" or "Iron Egg." However, naming still had to be serious. This was the first time he had taken a Western name, so he simply followed the Sicilian style. The surname was of course "Wang," and Malèna was now surnamed Wang. According to the habits of foreigners, it was Xili Wang, Xila Wang; according to the Chinese habit, it was reversed, a combination of Chinese and Western, which was quite good.

"Of course, dear, I think these two names are very good. They are taken from my hometown, although it doesn't make me recall it so much, but it is the place where we fell in love. As for faith, although I am a devout Catholic, I will not force you, let alone force our children. So they will not be baptized, and we will see their own wishes in the future."

Malèna was speaking from the heart. Although she used to think it was incredible that Wang Yan had no faith, she knew how to respect. And to be honest, when it came to the understanding of the Bible and God, Wang Yan knew more than she, a believer. So that was it, believe it or not.

"Then it's settled." Wang Yan said warmly: "You don't have to be too tired, it will be a long time before you give birth, so don't be in such a hurry to make clothes for them. If you are really bored, go shopping with Leo's wife, or call that English teacher over to learn."

"Got it..." Malèna replied.

In fact, Wang Yan was at home most of the time, and only went out to be busy a few times, and he had a lot of time to accompany Malèna. After all, he had so many subordinates, and if he had to care about everything, he should consider whether to kill all those people.

Now life was really as plain as water. Basically, he exercised early in the morning, and Malèna woke up naturally to make breakfast. During the day, he read and studied, and Malèna occasionally made clothes and occasionally learned English. In the evening, the two of them worked together to make a Chinese-Western dinner. If there were few people, the two of them ate with the father-in-law, and if there were many, they called two subordinates to eat together. After that, they each did their own things at night, and finally slept in each other's arms.

Since she became pregnant, Malèna wouldn't let Wang Yan touch her, and this monk had to be a monk for more than half a year...

That was definitely impossible, after all, they had come to the free America, so could they be short of horses to ride?

The most refreshing and relatively safe way was of course to go to a brothel. However, Leo's subordinates didn't involve that, and Wang Yan didn't let them do it. Why do that when there were so many profitable businesses? However, although they didn't do it, the people of the Correa family were loyal customers of the industries under the Corleone family.

Of course, Wang Yan definitely didn't do it; he was at this level, and it was really beneath his status. So the subordinate he sent to Los Angeles earlier opened a film production company there, and the company had been set up with a lot of cash. Recently, he was looking for scripts and preparing to invest in filming. When the time came, there would be all kinds of female roles, and if he, Wang Mou, didn't check and test their acting skills, how could that work? And it had to be the kind that had just entered the industry, with great potential.

And later he wanted to set up a record company, discover some singing seeds, and also engage in cinema chains. The prosperity of the American entertainment industry was something he, Wang Mou, should contribute to, which was his duty.

As for his main goal, he hadn't been idle during this time. Subordinates had already gone to get the office location, and professional talents in related fields were also being contacted, including those in China who were also contacting some masters of Sinology and I Ching to help them move their families to America. Basically, within half a year, each project could get on the right track.

Of course, he didn't force the matter of finding people in China. He just contacted them and talked about the conditions, and it was still up to them to think about it. He respected those who didn't come, and he despised but warmly welcomed those who did. Although it was very awkward, people were complex and all had bad habits.

Finding people to come was of course to continue his "chaos" research, and at the same time, just as he thought before, to bring out a normal ternary computer and promote it worldwide.

The main promotion was ternary, and the secondary was of course to engage in aerospace engineering according to his previous plan, as well as virtual reality, including neural links, servers, game engines, etc.

Multi-line development, simultaneous progress. Strive to launch personal computers in the mid-to-late 1950s, follow NASA's footsteps to start the aviation process, and then gradually exert force to raise the development trajectory of aerospace compared to real history. As for the other things, let's study them slowly; he didn't know how long it would take to succeed, but having hope was better than living aimlessly. After all, people living couldn't just live, and living to his level was even more impossible.

And besides normal physiological needs, he could be said to have been detached from low-level interests, completely a noble person, thinking he was shouldering the mission of human stars and the sea. It looked more like self-anesthesia, finding an unattainable goal to pursue blindly, in order to spend his long life.

But it didn't matter what was said, there was always something to do...

Three days later, in a tavern owned by the Corleone family, in a secret environment on the second floor that was not open to the public, the New York Mafia family gathered to discuss the future.

In fact, this matter was nothing, but it was just to acknowledge Leo's status. After all, a bumpkin from his hometown who had no foundation and had just arrived in America could wipe out most of the people in charge of the Stracci family overnight, without any news leaking out beforehand, and after the incident, the police and higher levels treated it as if it hadn't happened—no matter what, it was worthy of respect.

They asked themselves, wanting to achieve this level was not impossible, but the difficulty was too great, and there would always be times when they would miss or leak secrets. They were also afraid of this strength. Although Leo hadn't fully controlled all the legacy of the Stracci family, they didn't rely on that, but on the team that came over together, which was scary.

If they were to rank according to the strength of the action experts in the New York families, Luca Brasi in the Corleone family was recognized as the best, but they knew Luca's record well. And in the past few days, they had investigated the situation of this battle in detail, and it seemed that everyone in Leo's group was Luca, which was a bit scary—didn't they see that old Corleone had surrendered?

Of course, they were not fools, so they naturally suspected that Leo and Vito were colluding, and they also found that Leo had been to the Corleone family's residence. But after thinking about it, they didn't find any benefit to the Corleone family, and it didn't fit Vito's style of doing things. After all, they had some conflicts before, but they were far from the point of death. And Vito had always been cautious and would not do things without benefits; he would take the initiative to find people to negotiate and give warnings. If they could negotiate, everyone would make money; if they couldn't, it should be war.

Before, other families held small meetings, thought about it but didn't understand, and finally let it go. After all, the Stracci family had been wiped out, and they had to see what kind of person the new Don Correa was before they could judge.

Therefore, naturally, this meeting was very successful. Leo Correa was recognized by the hoodlum leaders in New York and acknowledged that all the rights and interests originally belonging to the Stracci family belonged to the Correa family.

Leo stepped onto a stage he had never thought of, but he was even more afraid. So after the meeting, he declined the invitations of other families and flew directly to Las Vegas. He had to handle the things his big brother had explained, and he had to go to study the land...