I searched and fought in America.

"I'll do it."

The white man with a scar across his face suddenly stood up and spoke in a deep voice.

"You're coming? Ha."

Sitting opposite him, Wang Ling sneered, stopped spinning his knife, and stared coldly at his opponent:

"Caesar, do you think you have the prestige to command respect? The brothers in the gang respect your fists, but managing a gang and leading a charge are two different things."

"Fine, if you're so great, then you do it!"

Enraged, Caesar leaned forward abruptly, slamming his hands on the table, and demanded of Wang Ling, "If you're so smart, then why are you sitting in that seat?"

Wang Ling pursed his lips, turned his head to the side, and stopped talking.

For him, the title "Father" was not just a title; it was sacred.

Only someone like the previous Kevin Mischief, who was both highly learned and exceptionally skilled in combat and possessed absolute charisma, was qualified to serve. He was well aware of his own limitations and felt that he was not qualified, but he also did not think that Caesar was qualified!

Seeing Wang Ling remain silent, Caesar seemed to have won the verbal battle, but he felt even more frustrated inside.

He knew that the other party didn't approve of him from the bottom of their heart, and even though the situation had become so critical, this prejudice was still like a mountain.

Caesar turned to look at Maurice, who was in the main seat, hoping that the elder would support him. However, Maurice simply lowered his head and smoked without saying a word.

The light in Caesar's eyes dimmed; he understood.

He slumped back into his chair, feeling extremely distressed. He had only wanted to save the gang and prevent everyone's hard work from being wasted, but the attitude of his two companions made him feel a deep sense of powerlessness.

Perhaps... I'm really only suited to be a knife, not the one wielding it?

Seeing the atmosphere become tense, Maurice finally stubbed out his cigarette and tried to smooth things over:

"Caesar has a point. We need someone to step forward and not let the Iron Claw Gang, founded by Father Kevin, be destroyed in our hands. However, the position of 'Father' is too important to the Iron Claw Gang. Without a token, the position is not legitimate."

Morris paused for a moment, then proposed a compromise: "How about this, we'll put that position on hold for now. Starting today, we'll restructure the leadership structure. Everyone will be responsible for their own duties on a daily basis, and for major issues, the three of us will vote on them, with the minority obeying the majority."

Caesar pursed his lips. Although he was unwilling, he knew that this was the best solution at the moment, so he didn't say anything more.

Wang Ling naturally wouldn't refute it.

Just as the atmosphere in the conference room had eased and the three were preparing to finalize the details—

boom!

The factory's iron gate was pushed open, and a member of the gang on lookout rushed in, his face filled with shock:

"Apostles... Apostles! The Iron Claw Token! The owner of the Iron Claw Token has appeared!"

"What?!"

These words struck like a thunderbolt.

The three of them stood up almost simultaneously, their movements synchronized, but their expressions were surprisingly varied.

……

At this moment, in the lobby on the first floor of the Iron Claw Recycling Station.

Rosen stood in the center of the arena, his posture calm and composed, with the iron claw token hanging at his waist.

Around him, more than twenty burly men of various skin colors stood in various places. They all stopped what they were doing and stood there, their eyes constantly scrutinizing Rosen and the badge on his waist.

Rosen was also observing the gang discreetly.

These gang members were all wearing uniform work clothes, a simple gray and white outfit made of coarse linen.

However, this work uniform has a very unique label. On their left chest, near the heart, is a badge. The main body is a black cross, but there are three deep cracks on the cross, as if it had been scratched by some kind of beast. The ends of the cross on the left and right sides are bent into sharp claw shapes.

I must say, this design, which is full of religious violence aesthetics, is actually quite cool.

However, what pleased Rosen even more was the condition of these people.

In this degenerate underworld, the vast majority of gang members are drug addicts.

But these people are different. They have clear eyes, strong bodies, and even shiny skin, which means they have good nutrition and have not been exposed to any tonics or drugs.

This is not a mob.

Rosen stood there quietly, waiting for the Iron Claw gang leaders to appear.

Before coming, he had actually considered how to contact the Iron Claw Gang: should he contact a specific leader privately, or go through an intermediary?

In the end, he rejected all the roundabout methods and chose the most direct and riskiest move: he went straight to their headquarters and, in front of all his gang members, revealed the Iron Claw Token.

This is Yang Conspiracy.

If they make contact in private, it's hard to guarantee that those officials who are ambitious for power won't harbor thoughts of murder and robbery.

But in public, in front of all the believers who regard the Iron Claw Order as a "sacred object," even if the officials have something to hide, they would never dare to openly lay a hand on him, otherwise they would be betraying their faith and would immediately lose their legitimacy to govern.

Clang.

The door to the second-floor office was pushed open, and hurried footsteps could be heard.

Caesar took the lead, pushing aside the gang members blocking his way, and immediately spotted the tall figure standing in the center of the hall.

Morris and Wang Ling followed closely behind and came out as well.

Upon seeing Rosen for the first time, Morris's tightly furrowed brows relaxed slightly, and some of his worries lessened considerably.

The man in front of me was over two meters tall, with a broad frame. He was wearing a wild American-style workwear outfit with the cuffs rolled up, revealing smooth muscle lines in his arms.

He appears to be a rather handsome and masculine young Chinese man, and he also possesses a very special aura, giving the first impression of being full of wild power.

This appearance is even more intimidating than the previous Holy Father!

Rosen also noticed the three people who walked out of the crowd.

He raised an eyebrow slightly.

An elderly Black man with a full head of white hair, a burly white man with a fierce look, and a young Chinese man with a cold demeanor.

This combination is really interesting.

In the United States, gangs are often the most racially segregated places. Irish people only hang out with Irish people, and black people only hang out with black people. Gangs like the Iron Claws, with such a mixed racial structure at the top, are extremely rare.

This also indirectly confirms that the gang's cohesion stems from some kind of "belief" or "ideology" that transcends race.

The three of them walked quickly to Rosen, and the surrounding gang members automatically made way for him.

The air grew somewhat heavy.

As the eldest elder, Morris stepped forward first. Although he was excited, he remained restrained in his tone:

"Sir, could I possibly borrow the iron claw token at your waist...?"