The Mafia Empire

Don\'t be ridiculous. He simply found a key and failed to suppress his curiosity and greed. That wasn\'t a crime, merely a moral shortcoming. Superiors wouldn\'t dismiss someone over a moral lapse, especially if it could be "handled" with some dialogue. Through this subtle bribe, Julian had already won over the two influtial m at their very first meeting, an impressive feat.

Had Julian be 5 or 30 years old, Kevin would have thought nothing of it. Surviving that long without being deceived oft meant ough life experice. But Julian was only sixte—where did he gain such wisdom?

Some things were truly terrifying to think about.

The meal was pleasant for all parties. Julian left first, ssing that Kevin, Gawain, and Prando avoided discussing anything ssitive because of his presce. Realizing this, he excused himself, leaving them the privacy they needed. His courteous departure left a favorable impression on the trio, such considerate young m were rare.

Once the door closed, Prando chuckled, patting his pocket. "That kid\'s quite something. I just wonder if his sincerity is as strong as it seems."

Kevin, picking his teeth, raised an eyebrow and mumbled, "Don\'t worry, it won\'t be less than a solid figure."

A "solid figure" was code for t thousand dollars, an exorbitant sum for a small place like Ternell.

Both Prando and Gawain were tak aback. According to their usual arrangemts, the monthly tribute from gangs, disguised as charitable donations from community minded merchants, was only three to five thousand dollars. This money was split from the top down, with every officer and ev the doorman receiving a share.

Ternell\'s police force consisted of five stations and a total of 70 officers, overseeing a city of nearly 400,000. Depding on their rank, each officer received betwe three and fifty dollars monthly from these tributes, while Prando took five hundred dollars for himself.

The situation at the fire departmt was similar. Though their contributions from the "charitable donations" were smaller, Gawain\'s share was notably less than Prando\'s—he received only three hundred dollars.

So wh Kevin mtioned a "solid figure," the young man\'s gerosity astounded them!

Money was good, but sometimes too much money could be unsettling.

"There won\'t be any problems, right?" Prando wiped his face with a wet napkin, trying to calm down. "I may be the police chief, but I\'m not omnipott. Some things ev I can\'t handle. If we take the money but do nothing, that could spell trouble."

Little did Prando know, problems were already brewing before he ev got his hands on the money.

...

"Boss, someone reported witnessing a murder on the street. What should we do now?"

Pronto had just returned to the police station, and one foot was still outside the door wh a young officer approached him. The officer pointed to an elderly woman sitting on a nearby bch. Pronto rolled his eyes, let out a burp laced with the sct of alcohol, and muttered, "What should we do? Of course, we op a case and investigate, find the murderer.

Do you need me to hold your hand and walk you through it so you know what to do?"

Just as Pronto was about to walk inside to his office, intding to rest for a while in the backroom, the young officer stepped in front of him again, blocking his path. In less than a second, Pronto\'s expression shifted from annoyance to a flicker of anger. His eyes gleamed with irritation, and his tone was sharp, "For God\'s sake, what now? Did someone\'s cow go missing, or is there a clogged sewer?"

The young officer awkwardly smiled and whispered, "The deceased is one of Wood\'s close associates, Mr. Jim."

The buzz of alcohol instantly left Pronto\'s body. He shuddered slightly, grabbed the young officer by the collar, and pulled him close, their faces almost touching. "Did you say Wood? And you mtioned a public murder? There must be more than one witness. Get the facts straight, and follow me."

As he was about to ter the office, Pronto knocked on the desk next to the door, and a woman in her thirties, with a pleasant face, looked up at him. "Get Shaun over here, now!" he barked, before storming into his office, the young officer trailing behind.

Sitting in his comfortable boss\'s chair, Pronto tugged at his collar and pointed to the bar in the corner. "Get me some damn ice water. God, did they only teach you how to stand at atttion at the academy?"

The young officer lowered his head, walked to the bar, and prepared a glass of iced water for Pronto. It was said that the capital had already started selling household mini-freezers, but that was still a distant dream for Ternell. All the ice in the city came from the Ternell Ice Factory, divided into three categories: ice made from boiled water, tap water, and well water.

The materials used dictated the price, and naturally, Pronto used only the best.

He took the glass of chilled water, gulped it down, and felt an instant sse of relief wash over him. Being overweight had its downsides—he needed ice water to cool down ev in autumn. He placed the glass on the coaster on his desk and looked at the young officer, motioning for him to speak. "Don\'t you think you should say something now?"

The officer jolted and immediately started talking. "Aside from the elderly woman outside who needs to rest due to shock, over twty people have come forward, all claiming they witnessed the murder. The only idtified deceased so far is Jim. He was stabbed multiple times and died on the spot."