The Mafia Empire

He casually tossed the gun to Dave, trusting that he would handle it better than Graf, who had just ruined his plans momts ago. Julian th took a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped the blood from his fingers, and pointed at the three corpses on the g. "Strip them. Burn the clothes. Bury them with the two cops in the back lot."

"Get some rest tonight, after that we will have a lot of work to do." With that, Julian shook the dust from his coat and returned to the house, shaking his head as he walked.

Things escalated quickly and beyond anyone\'s expectations the momt Graf drew the gun. The fate of Wood\'s subordinates was a foregone conclusion after that. Neither Julian nor Wood had any room left to negotiate.

Unlike disputes in business or politics, gang conflicts wer\'t easily resolved. Business disagreemts were just about dividing profits, and a compromise could be reached. Political conflicts were about power and influce, and a few concessions here or there could settle matters.

But wh it came to gangs and factions, the law of the jungle ruled.

Every gang had its territory, just like a lion. Newcomers like Julian were akin to hyas.

Lions didn\'t fear hyas. Wh a lion roared, hyas typically backed down, knowing they couldn\'t win. But if a lion didn\'t respond to provocation, other hyas would gather, ssing weakness. They would pounce, knowing that the lion was either old or injured. They would tear the lion to pieces.

It was the same in the underworld.

Tonight, Wood had lost three m. If he didn\'t respond, if he remained silt, others would come to test him, ev if Julian did nothing. They\'d see if Wood had truly gone soft. And once they confirmed that he had, the powerful elites of Ternell City would pounce, tearing Wood apart and swallowing his empire whole.

There was no turning back now.

Wood had to prove that he was still the king, capable of crushing anyone who dared to challge him.

And Julian had to face Wood head-on to sure his survival. Otherwise, not only would Wood come after him, but others smelling blood would, too. They would sacrifice Julian to please the still dominant lion.

There would be no peace until one side was dead.

...

This was the first time Wood had allowed himself to fall into such a disheveled state after his success.

He violtly smashed a vase onto the g. In his fury, all semblance of gtlemanly demeanor had vanished. His meticulously groomed hair now hung loosely, as though he had just weathered a storm. Hot breath escaped from his slightly parted lips as he panted, retreating a few steps before sitting down on a chair in the storeroom.

One of the buttons on his elegant waistcoat had popped off, and the collar of his expsive shirt was torn op, revealing a patch of black chest hair. He looked like a wounded beast hiding in the corner.

He had be threated and wanted to fight back. But wh he suggested to Ernst and Carrell that they should band together to crush those who refused to play by the rules, Ernst remained unexpectedly silt, and so did Carrell. After fighting alongside them for over a decade, how could Wood not guess what they were thinking?

They were like everyone else outside, waiting for him to show signs of exhaustion, to reveal a momt of weakness, so they could tear him to pieces.

The three of them had divided the city\'s illegal liquor market, but why would two, or ev one, be contt to share wh they could have it all? Wood had known for years that the so called "Three Kings" would inevitably clash one day. The only thing that had kept them at peace was not some lofty rule, but the absce of an opportunity to ignite the conflict.

Now, that opportunity had arrived.

If he failed to handle this properly and let everyone know that "Wood the Axeman" was still the same ruthless man who would chop people to pieces with an axe, those people would turn into savages and rip him apart.

Thinking was easy, but acting was much harder. Just wh Wood was determined to prove that he was far from being "over the hill," he suddly realized he knew nothing about his opponts.

He had no idea how many people they had.

He only knew one of their key members, a brute named Graf.

He didn\'t know what their currt plans were.

In short, he knew almost nothing about his emies. Worse yet, he had no idea where to start!

His many years as a "gtleman" had nearly made him forget that he was once a thug, a "woodcutter" with blood on his hands. He had decorated his image with the trappings of high society, so much so that ev he had nearly become a monk in a cathedral. Now, being thrust back into the cutthroat, life and death struggles of the past made him feel out of place, with a heart racing with unease.

His trembling hand reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette case. He lit one, and as the smoke swirled a him, his once uncertain gaze became sharp. He threw the remaining cigarette butt to the g and rolled up his sleeves, retrieving the lumber axe that had be hanging behind the storeroom door and gripping it in his hand.

Wh he pushed op the door, many people were waiting outside. These were his subordinates, including family, frids, and the assistants who had stood by him through hell and back.

His gaze was firm, just as it had be many years ago. After a whole night of contemplation, he had finally come to a conclusion: power in this world is everything. All the high society luxuries and superficial actions are nothing but extra decoration. He had once forsak his true nature for the sake of pleasing others and seeking validation, but things had changed now.

He had finally rediscovered his true self, he is \'Wood The Axeman\'.