Reborn in America, I am a legendary short seller on Wall Street.

Chapter 68 The Second Journey Through the Dark Alley (Seeking monthly votes and recommendations)

At 9:30 a.m., Larry arrived at the fishing port by public carriage.

The reason they didn't choose to ride bicycles was twofold: firstly, riding a bicycle in winter is indeed tiring; secondly, Larry planned to buy some humidifiers for storing cigars today, so they would have to take a horse-drawn carriage back, which would not offer any advantages for riding bicycles.

Just to be safe, Larry still brought a gun, but today he didn't wear the Italian gun; instead, he brought a Colt revolver.

The reason Larry didn't wear the Italian pistol was that when he was making his choice, he suddenly remembered a scene from his past life when he watched "Journey to the West," where Sun Wukong said to the Silver Horn King, "Your female gourd is useless when it sees my male gourd."

Larry was also worried that the Italian pistol would be ineffective against Italians.

It's hard to say for sure, since I haven't fired a single shot since I bought the Italian pistol.

At this point, Colt, an American, was still the one to trust.

Stepping onto the perpetually damp cobblestone ground, Larry once again entered the red-brick "dark alley" neighborhood. Based on his previous visit, Larry clearly remembered that there was a shop selling Cuban cigars not far from Mr. K's restaurant.

Now, as I walked to the street corner, I saw a shop facing the street made of red bricks and gray bricks. A wooden signboard hung in front of the door, with a Cuban flag pattern of white stars, red triangles, and blue and white stripes, and a line of crooked words: "Authentic Cuban Cigars".

Larry walked into the cigar workshop and shop with his head down.

The shop wasn't very well lit, and the dark brown oak shelves made it even dimmer. Beautifully framed cigar boxes and related supplies were displayed in the glass case, while the cigars were stored separately in the cigar cabinet.

The air was filled with a blend of cedar, tobacco, and leather aromas that were particularly enticing to Larry at the moment.

Behind the counter, the Italian-American shop owner, wearing a vest and apron, greeted Larry warmly as he entered.

"Sir, would you like a cigar?" The shopkeeper's English also had a slight Italian accent.

"Yes, how much are your cigars? Are they authentic?" Larry asked casually.

The shop owner smiled and pointed behind the cabinet. Larry looked in that direction and saw an old man with a wrinkled face sitting behind the cabinet, rubbing a cigar by hand.

As if sensing Larry's gaze, the old man frowned and glanced back, then turned his head away again.

"Authentic old Cuban cigar artisans make the absolute best cigars! You won't find better ones in all of Boston," the shop owner said with a smile.

"Tobacco? Is it from Connecticut or South America? To be honest, that will determine how much I buy!" Larry asked in a deep voice.

The question annoyed the shop owner, but he didn't dare to refute it immediately. He thought for a few seconds before saying, "We have tobacco from Connecticut, but most of it comes from the Dominican Republic. As you know, there are constant small-scale uprisings on the island of Cuba, and the Spanish government can't even collect enough tobacco."

As Larry expected, the answer was that Dominican or other South American tobacco would have been fine, thanks in large part to the Italian smuggling ring.

Larry deliberately put on a stern face, "But I only want Cuban goods!"

"Cuban goods are expensive!" the shop owner emphasized.

"To support the freedom and independence of the Cuban people, I'll buy authentic Cuban goods no matter the price!" Larry casually made up a grand statement.

But this answer made the old cigar maker turn back again. He looked at Larry, slowly stood up, straightened his back, and said in a thick Latin accent,

"20 USD!"

Larry was taken aback, thinking, "You're exaggerating. I've heard that a regular cigar costs only 50 cents, and a genuine, top-quality Cuban cigar costs only $3. You're asking for $20 right off the bat? That's a bit too much, isn't it?" Larry frowned, looking at the old man's weathered face, thinking about how the Cuban people would not have peace for the next 130 years, and sighed inwardly. He then took out $40 from his wallet and handed it to the old man.

I thought to myself that I would consider this a donation to the Cuban people.

The old man didn't say anything, but clutched the dollars in his hand and stuffed them into the large pocket of his apron. He then strolled to the cigar cabinet, quickly took out two boxes of cigars, and placed them in Larry's hand.

Larry was taken aback. He looked down and saw that the box of cigars was packed in rows of 12, and you could tell from the wrappers that they were Cuban and of a very high quality.

Hmm, isn't there a misunderstanding here?
I was thinking if one stick costs $20, I'd buy two for you. Turns out you're charging $20 a box...

So, by that logic, not only did I not raise funds for the Cuban people, but I also took advantage of my fellow Cubans. How embarrassing is that?

The Italian shop owner frowned and raised his hand as if to stop him, but ultimately remained silent.

Larry looked into the old cigar maker's weathered eyes and was deeply moved. He quickly took out another $100 and said, "Respected sir, may I support the Cuban people a little more?"

In the end, Larry spent $140 at the shop to buy 7 boxes and 1 extra premium Cuban cigars. The extra one was freshly made by the old cigar maker, who personally cut off the cigar head and lit it for Larry.

In addition, Larry also bought a Spanish cedar humidor at the store, which has a built-in ceramic water tank that maintains 70% humidity through evaporation. It also has a thermometer and a hygrometer on the door. It cost $28.5.

We don't need a portable humidor cigar box. The red-haired man gave us one yesterday, but Larry found out that one costs $8.

In addition, Larry bought a brass V-shaped cigar cutter and a straight-cut cigar cutter for a total of $2.

I also got 20 boxes of sulfur-free stemmed cigar matches and 100 matching cedar igniters, which cost me a total of $4.2.

Then there's a ceramic cigar holder and five aluminum cigar tubes, which together cost $13.

The cigar shop manager was all smiles after making such a big sale.

When Larry handed him the $188, he felt a little better, as his previously depressed mood improved.

What a win-win situation!

Larry, with a cigar in his mouth, pointed to the things on the ground and told the shopkeeper to find him a helper to carry things. Without saying a word, the shopkeeper walked out of the shop and shouted for three Italian children, instructing them to help the gentleman load all his things onto the carriage.

Larry pulled out three dollars and gave each of the three Italian children a dollar coin, promising that they would each receive a dollar after the deed was done. The three children were overjoyed!
After leaving the cigar shop, Larry intended to leave directly, but for some reason he remembered Mr. K in front of the Colt Company. He told the three kids to take a detour, as he wanted to visit Mr. K's shop on the way.

As Larry turned the corner, he was suddenly stunned. The small restaurant that belonged to Mr. K, where he had bought the gun, had been burned to the ground and was now a complete ruin.

Was there a fire? It doesn't seem like it! The houses next door are fine...

"What's going on?" Larry asked the three children, frowning.

The three children looked at each other without saying a word. Finally, the smaller child lowered his voice and told Larry that the shop owner had offended the Moore Gang at the docks and had fled the fishing port with his wife and children. His shop had been burned down by gang members.

"When did this happen?" Larry asked.

"Three days before the New Year!" The child's big eyes sparkled.

(End of this chapter)