The Mafia Empire

Now, from Amy's words, it seemed possible that Corder and Ken were together. They had already searched everywhere Corder might be, so why not try looking in Ken's circle of contacts?

Gador casually flicked the cigarette butt from his fingers and squatted in front of Amy. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he began gently wiping away the makeup smeared by her tears. Amy trembled violently, too scared to move as the man tenderly cleaned her face, yet she felt no warmth—only a coldness that engulfed her entire body.

"Why didn't you say this earlier?" Gador asked softly, continuing to wipe her face. "I don't have much time, you understand? Not even a minute, not even a second." As he spoke, the handkerchief floated to the ground. Amy's eyes rolled downward frantically, filled with a sense of profound despair. In the next moment, Gador's hand closed around her throat, his face twisting with rage.

Pronto's words had put too much pressure on him. From a boy with nothing, he had risked his life and dignity to achieve his current status and possessions. He didn't want to lose anything, whether it be his life or his power.

But now, it seemed he might lose everything, simply because he hadn't found that damned Corder, or that damned Ken, and all of it was because this woman hadn't told the truth right away!

The veins in his hand bulged as he tightened his grip. His thin, tightly pressed lips made him seem utterly merciless.

Amy struggled under his grasp, but his other hand joined in, squeezing her neck tightly. She tried to pry his hands away, but a woman in tech was no match for a gang leader. Her struggles soon turned to slaps and frantic clawing. Gador tilted his head back, half-crouched, his arms extended, and his grip tightened.

The movements of the woman in his hands grew smaller, weaker, until finally, there was no movement at all.

He tossed Amy aside and stood up, brushing off his slightly disheveled clothes. After pacing for a few steps, he turned around and ordered, "I remember Corder, Ken, and someone else... Eden? Yes, him. The three of them were always close. Send someone to find Eden.

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I don't care where they're hiding, but you must find them soon, or we're in big trouble!"

"Understand?"

"Big trouble!"

Watching his men rush out, he returned to the shadows and sat down in a chair. Without showing any sign of urgency, he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.

It was indeed big trouble. As the head of the most powerful underworld faction in the city, failing to find Corder meant losing control of his gang, or worse, defying the demands of those powerful figures. No matter what others thought, he knew he was in serious trouble. welcome-to-NovelFire

At that moment, he thought of Wood.

...

"What should I do now?"

Wood glanced at Gador, who was sitting across from him. He wasn't sure what was on Gador's mind, but he noticed a slight furrow in his brow.

These past few days, Wood had stayed here, waiting for Gador to bring him good news. Unfortunately, that good news seemed to be delayed, while the bad news had already arrived.

Wood knew Madam Vivian quite well. As one of the city's tycoons, he was often seen at gatherings of the elite, though he never openly admitted that he didn't enjoy those events much. He always sensed a lack of respect from the influential attendees, who mockingly referred to him as 'The Axeman Wood,' a nickname that belittled his rural origins.

But he couldn't avoid those circles. His life's pursuit was within that small group, and after finally squeezing his way in, how could he just leave without hesitation?

If it weren't for recent events, he might have continued as before, dreaming of one day entering politics. He had even invested most of his savings in that path. His original plan was to apply for the election when the terms of the two councilmen in Ternell city ended in two years, but all that had been brought to an abrupt halt a few days ago.

He felt a strange mix of relief and bitterness at the losses he had suffered.

His thoughts quickly returned to the present. After a brief pause, he nodded and said, "You made a mistake!" Gador listened seriously, his expression like that of a diligent student in a classroom, which gave Wood a peculiar sense of satisfaction. "You shouldn't have met Pronto face to face, and you definitely shouldn't have spoken to him.

Do you really think he came here, driving a police car in broad daylight, because of the pressure he felt?"

"No, you're wrong!"

"His goal was to let everyone know that he, the chief of police in Ternell city, had come to see you. By doing that, he distanced himself from the issue. It's easy to understand. Given Madam Vivian's status, she would never come into contact with someone like Corder, a mere gang member. She doesn't even know who he is.

The responsibility lies with Pronto, and if Corder can't be found, Madam Vivian will be furious, and Pronto will be the scapegoat."

"But by swaggering over here in full view, he transferred that responsibility to you. And like an idiot, you took it, turning that responsibility into a noose and placing it around your own neck."

Gador's face darkened. In front of Wood—at least in this moment—he didn't need to maintain any pretenses. Wood was an experienced man who understood his feelings. What Gador hadn't expected was that there was this layer of manipulation behind the situation. It made him feel like he had been played, taking on a burden that wasn't even his to bear.

He took a deep breath, calming himself before lowering his voice to ask, "I don't want to hear this. I just want to know how to survive this crisis if I can't find Corder."