Chapter 314

"That was an afternoon thirty years ago. I stepped on the train to San Diego. I went there to do business with Mexicans. On the train, an Italian-American found me. He said his name was Richie, from Sicily. We chatted for a while on the train..."

In the study of the Falcone manor, the old Godfather's voice was like a somewhat faded record. The sunlight spilled into the room through the heavy curtains, becoming somewhat dim. Shiler didn't sit opposite him, but sat on the sofa on the other side, using a cigar cutter to cut a cigar.

The smoke of the cigar was as rich as the layers of cloud waves on the sunset horizon. Between the billowing smoke, some shapes that made people have infinite reverie drifted away, as if they were realistic oil paintings unique to the last era.

Accompanied by the clanging sound of the train passing through the tracks, the whistle lengthened, and a man with dark brown hair was sitting in the train compartment reading a newspaper.

With a "click", the door of the compartment was opened. Another person wearing a long trench coat took off his hat and put it on his chest. He bowed his head to one side, signaled to the people inside, and said in Italian: "Hello, Mr. Falcone, my name is Richie, I am from Sicily."

Young Falcone took down the newspaper in his hand, looked at Richie who walked into the compartment, and also said in Italian: "Hello, Richie, are you here to find me?"

Falcone's Italian accent was completely different from Richie's. The ending of his tone always sank downward. That was the only thing he brought from his hometown, Rome. This made his tone sound somewhat cold.

Richie didn't care. He walked to the opposite side of Falcone and sat down, then said: "I heard that you came from Cat Getan and wanted to go to California. I took this train just to find you."

Richie had blond hair and brown eyes. His cheeks were somewhat sunken, and his face shape was typical of a Southern Italian. He lowered his head, showed a low posture, and said to Falcone in Italian: "Sir, I come to request your protection. The Richie family has nowhere to go."

Falcone looked at him silently. He stroked the edge of the newspaper crease with his fingers. Richie put his hat on the table and said: "My family and I were involved in a dispute in Chicago. An old Englishman from the West Coast cheated us with two mines that had been mined to the point of resource exhaustion, making us owe a large sum of money to Fidelio in Chicago."

Richie raised his eyes and looked at Falcone with his brown eyes, but he didn't see any emotion in the eyes of this young gang leader, which made his next words even more lacking in confidence.

"The Richie family is unable to repay this debt, but this responsibility is not ours. That cunning Englishman has already left here, but we cannot explain to Fidelio why we can't pay back the money..."

"Your Excellency Falcone, my family and I heard that you enjoy a great reputation on the East Coast. We can only come to find you, seeking a way out. Fidelio is just a dog of the Chicago Mafia leader..."

"I request you, Your Excellency, save us. The Richie family is willing to pay any price for this..."

Young Falcone put the newspaper in his hand beside the seat. He leaned back against the back of the chair, looked at the scenery constantly receding outside the window, and said in Italian with a cold tone: "Fidelio is indeed nothing. He is just a little hoodlum from Ragusa. If it weren't for his wife, he should still be at the pier, mixing with those people who are not decent."

"But you, Richie... how are you going to prove that you are more valuable than Fidelio? Fidelio still has a father-in-law who is willing to promote him, but what about you? Isn't your Richie family also from the pier smuggling?"

Falcone put an arm on the table, moved his fingers, looked at Richie, and said: "Most of the Sicilians who came to the East Coast with you have their own business in the city. Only you are still a stray dog on the East Coast..."

"We all know why you were cheated by the Englishman because you were eager to join Chicago, eager to find a dog kennel for yourself in the city. And when you were kicked out, you came to find me again, wanting to join Cat Getan..."

A trace of shame appeared on Richie's face. Anyone who was exposed like this would feel that they couldn't save face.

But what Falcone said was the truth. Several families who came to the East Coast at the same time as Richie were now developing well in the city. Only they, after encountering a series of blows, didn't even have a stable place to live and could only nest in the hotel at the train station.

"Your Excellency, I said, I am willing to pay any price for your acceptance, as long as you can save me and my family, I am at your disposal..." Richie lowered his head and said.

Falcone took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He took one out and held it in his hand. Richie stood up, leaned over to light it for him. The fire of the cigarette lit up, like a flickering candle in the dim carriage.

"Fidelio is a good dog. I hope you are too, Richie."

Richie lowered his head, kissed the back of Falcone's hand that wasn't holding the cigarette, and said: "As you wish, Your Excellency."

The smoke of the cigarette was more like the incense threads rising in the temple. After a little rich milky white rose at the beginning, the smoke would gradually disperse, floating into a thin white gauze.

The window frame of the train window framed the silhouettes of the two men into an oil painting. With a "click", the door of the carriage closed, and the secret talk inside was heard by no one. The old Godfather didn't want to repeat it either. He just evaluated it like this:

"For so many years, many people have come to ask me. Many of them are not likable, holding large sums of money to find me to do business, but I am not a businessman, let alone a killer who takes money to do things."

"When Richie came to ask me, he had nothing, but it didn't matter. I liked his attitude very much, so we went to San Diego together."

"I have forgotten whether the business with those Mexicans was successful, but on the way back, Richie followed me back to Cat Getan..."

"At that time, there were no Twelve Families here, and I was just a leader in the North District of Cat Getan, just with a little reputation..."

"Later, I grew bigger and bigger. North District, East District, Central City, Financial Street... In Cat Getan, many people started to recite my name, and more and more people followed me..."

"Professor Rodriguez, human psychology is a very wonderful thing. When Richie begged me humbly, in order to save his life, he was willing to pay any price, not hesitating to put down his dignity and face."

"But when he followed me to rule the entire Cat Getan, he forgot all this, thinking that he was the creator of this cause, thinking that he, as one of the first few people to follow me, should share all the glory and power with me..."

"Initially, he looked down on those latecomers, although they were much more useful than him, but he still felt that he was a veteran. He looked down on the Spencer family from England, looked down on the Lawrence family who came from the salt and iron industry, and even looked down on the Greek who only had one daughter..."

"Then, he started to rank the Twelve Families, feeling that the first comers should enjoy more rights than the latecomers..."

"Finally, he even felt that he, as Evans's uncle generation, had the power to interfere with his choices and guide him in doing things..."

"Humans always like to compare themselves with those below." Shiler's voice and the light sound of the lighter sounded together. He lit the cigar and slowly put it into his mouth.

"People who have lost everything will be more eager to stand at the top of power and control everything, and if he can't do it in reality, then as long as he convinces himself psychologically that he has stepped on many people, he can achieve self-consistency."

"And from this, people with extreme desire for control will develop. They will want to control everyone whose status is lower than them, or rather, everyone they think is lower than them, whether it is position, age, or seniority, or even height, body shape, appearance..."

"They can obtain spiritual happiness from belittling and controlling others. When they get used to this way of doing things, everything will start to deviate from the original track. They will become exceptionally arrogant and daring. As long as they can satisfy their desire for control, they dare to do anything..."

【Heaven Descends】

"But he is not smart." The old Godfather continued: "When I saw him for the first time, I knew he wasn't smart enough."

"But at that time, I didn't care because all I needed was a dog. The louder he barked, the better. This could show the neighbors that I had picked a good dog..."

"But after so many years, when he wanted to become the master, he chose to send his little daughter to Evans's bed. That girl was taught too stupidly by him, wanting to use beauty and love to win over the new Godfather..."

"The person who slept with her should be Alberto, right?" Shiler asked. "Evans doesn't like wandering among women."

"That's right, Evans is more like his mother—stubborn, dedicated, and self-respecting. And Alberto... he is more like me. He doesn't care about these things."

Shiler shook his head and said: "Regardless, Richie played a bad move. Even if his daughter were as beautiful as a fairy, she wouldn't be able to shake Alberto. To be honest, even Evans wouldn't fall for this kind of trick."

"Indeed, but I was tired of his stupid tricks time and time again. Letting him die in the hands of a mysterious serial murder killer is already the most decent way to die I can give a dog."

"I want to thank the killer of this serial murder case. Otherwise, I would have to gather everyone together, turn over those old stories and recite them, let everyone have a headache because of his stupidity, and then let the gunman shoot him with one shot. And then, I would have to listen to the wailing of his family and those few stupid girls, and I would have to clean up the corpse, attend the funeral..."

The old Godfather exhaled a puff of smoke and said: "I don't have much time left, and I don't want to waste it on crying for a dog."

"To be honest, that mercenary killer you introduced to me, although the asking price is very expensive, his actions are quite neat. In this era, there are not many killers with such professional ethics..."

"Actually, I am a bit curious, Your Excellency Godfather, why don't you use gang killers, but must go outside to find mercenaries?"

"Those people in the gang, letting them shoot, set up bombs, or poison is still okay, but letting them imitate serial killers to saw people open, they can't do such bloody work. When they come back, they will definitely bury their heads in the nest like ostriches, saying they have some mental trauma, and I still have to pay them an extra medical fee..."

Falcone showed a look of annoyance and said: "In the second half of my life, my reputation for kindness and tolerance spread too widely, which overshadowed my deeds in the early years. This was originally a good thing, allowing me to enjoy my old age, but there are always some ignorant fools..."

Shiler relaxed his body, leaned on the back of the chair, slowly exhaled a puff of smoke, and said: "Yesterday, that mercenary called me, saying he had received the final payment, and asked me to praise you for paying on time. If there is a need next time, call him again."

Falcone pressed the cigar he had almost finished smoking on the paper, his voice somewhat low, saying: "Perhaps soon, his business will be booming."