Mr. Consultant

It was muddy everywhere, and in the dim environment, I saw a ferocious monster roaring at the souls soaked in the mud. ——"Divine Comedy: Hell"

Winter in New York is gloomy.

Gray-white cotton-like clouds entwined in the sky, very much like the newly painted walls of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, more like the leaves of ivy covered with frost on the walls.The wrought iron street lamp in front of the hotel emits a circle of dim light, and cars that are as clean as mirrors roar and fly away in the light, leaving only a corner of whispering people.

The aroma of cigars flowed slowly among the crowd along with the gentle and musical Italian.A few pale sideburns, a few pairs of broad shoulders, and then cooled in the wind, disappeared without a trace like a little ghost in the sun.

These people are either young, or old, or thin, or strong, but without exception, people can smell something strange from under the well-wrapped suit:

Maybe it's the burnt incense of the burning gun, maybe it's the stench soaked in blood.

But at this time, they all restrained these dangerous and sharp habits, and gathered under the lamp like sparrows with pleasant faces, waiting for the arrival of that great man.Because the big man, Don Gilardino, the leader of all the mafia in this land, decided to be kind enough to listen to the earnest plea from Chicago.

Outside the ballroom on the top floor of the Waldorf Astoria, Lorenzo Maldini looks like a prisoner awaiting trial.His pair of blue eyes were staring at the golden lacquer and walnut decorated door for a moment, as if it was full of all the hopes of the Maldini family.

Two months ago, in Chicago, sporadic fighting between the Maldini and Barone families finally developed into an all-out war.But the situation is quite favorable for Maldini. Since Don Barone's death, the whole of South Chicago has been like a mess, and it only needs to be pushed lightly to be irreversible.

And that stupid hornhead, Don Barone's brother, big fat Albert Barone, in order to divide a little bit of inheritance and seek a bit of dispensable decency, he was even willing to turn against him and betray his relatives, Die for Maldini.He rubbed his hands, blinked his sneaky eyes, and leaked all the business of several bookkeeping offices under his name to Lorenzo, and even hinted that as long as the reward was good enough, he could get the books of the entire underground business of the Barone family. .

Lorenzo was delighted, and even though he did not like traitors, he never refused the folly of his enemies.And just when Lorenzo thought they would win a big victory and drive the drunkard Xavier and the little prostitute raised by Don Barone out of Chicago, Albert's body was found in the swamp in the outskirts.

The death of this big fat man was horrific. After being disembowelled, he hung on the hood of the Ford car like a rag.Barone family thugs gouged out his eyes, cut off his nose and ears, and stuffed them all into his mouth.

Such a harsh execution frightened the half-hearted members of the Barone family, but it could not shake Lorenzo at all.Even at only 31 years old, he has seen enough blood and has enough courage.At the age of 16, he completed the "test" assigned by his family, and sent a thug who violated the precepts to hell with his own hands.He lived the life of the most old-fashioned mafia, often accompanied by killing and danger.He thinks that is a real hero, not like those well-dressed rats in Barone, doing dirty robbery in the name of grand trade.

Lorenzo calmed down and calmly analyzed the situation.With some bestial instinct, he realized that Barone was bluffing.So more soldiers and more killers were dispatched, taking advantage of the night to blow down several casinos and brothels operated by Barone with machine guns like a sieve.Under the moonlight, the blood glowed black and shiny, mixed with scattered glass shards, blooming like flowers.

When he looked at the flowers blooming in the night, he knew that victory was very close to him. Even when he breathed, he seemed to be able to smell the moist air of South Chicago.And those fame, money, power, things that other people dream of and dare not dream of, as long as he stretches out his hand, he can embrace them all in his arms.

But this war gave more than that.The incomparable honor of unifying Chicago, unlike those ostentatious medals, affords Lorenzo real fear and respect—

Fear and respect are the roots of all surrender.

But Lorenzo failed, not because of the Barone family's counterattack, but because of more internal reasons.All the good things he fantasized about day and night are like fragile waves on the sea, changing his body in an instant, hiding in the surging waves.He had to immediately stop the war against Barone, and even had to come to New York alone to seek asylum from the "Disciplinary Committee".He would rather believe that everything was a conspiracy by the consultants of the Barone family. He would rather admit his stupidity and mistakes than bow to this unreasonable fate.

"Yes, I can't bow my head."

Lorenzo thought, clenched his fists tightly.He took a few deep breaths, as if he was going to duel with someone, mobilized all his courage and concentration, hoping to get a promise from Don Gilardino.He kept his family advisers in Chicago, which is unusual but says a lot about his determination.Lorenzo insisted on recovering all the face lost in Chicago from the Waldorf Astoria in New York.

But when Lorenzo walked into the meeting room and faced the old people in suits and ties, he began to regret it.He is still too young, even if he has become the second in command of the Maldini family, he is still just the most superficial scum in this ancient tradition.And the second in command of a small place like Chicago, such a young man with no wrinkles on his face, is like a feather in this conference room, light and weightless.And the lingering breaths of the old people around him can blow him up and down without much effort.

"Gentlemen of the Disciplinary Committee, on behalf of the organization of North Chicago, I seek a just verdict from you in the name of my father, Piero Maldini."

Lorenzo said so, bowing his head humbly.Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the majestic statue-like people, and he seemed to be fixed by that gaze, and he also became a cold rock.

Don Gilardino sat directly opposite the door, in the middle position.He was tall and fat, and if it weren't for that well-cut suit, he would even look as ridiculous as a ball.

His face is also almost kind, under the thin silver hair, two gray eyebrows are drooping, covering the eye sockets.He had the characteristic Italian hooked nose, the skin on his cheeks was loose and old, and his lips were lined with wrinkles.But in his gray-blue eyes, there was a cloudy, unstoppable, impenetrable light.This light made him look younger than the trembling Lorenzo, and more full of oppressive power.

Don Gilardino lit a cigar and slowly put it in his mouth.He never left this matter to others, because among this group of old people, there is nothing more pleasant and showing off than warming up a cigar steadily.And the aroma of the mixture of soil and honey also made the expression on his face relax a bit.He lowered his eyelids and listened attentively to Lorenzo's politeness, as if it was the most intelligent argument in the world.

Don Gilardino is by no means a stupid and gentle old man, and a stupid and gentle old man cannot be the leader of the national mafia in any case.But he is good at pretending to be stupid and gentle, because he understands the benefits of making his opponent underestimate him, and also understands the importance of hiding his thoughts.He always said that a strong and powerful person never lives by showing his strength.

"We just want to take back the land that Barone took from us 18 years ago, but we have no intention of disturbing the peace of Chicago, and we have no other ambitions... I hope the committee can provide support for the dispute between Maldini and Barone. Peace talks witness and become a guarantee for both parties.”

Lorenzo tried his best to show the utmost sincerity, but he couldn't avoid the mechanical tone of endorsement.No way, the ghost knows how long it has been since he finished a sentence with such rigorous words.He went over the explanation given by the family advisor, and finally heaved a sigh of relief. He opened his blue eyes and waited for everyone present to deal with him like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

No one spoke, no one dared to speak until Don Gilardino spoke.

But the old man who was attracting attention at this time was just quietly smoking a cigar, as if that was his top priority.

Lorenzo felt a chill that he hadn't seen for a long time.The old man in front of him is like a vast ocean, a mist, making people unable to figure out the truth, whether there is a deadly poison or a sharp knife hidden under that kind appearance.Just when he was suspicious and uncertain, a hoarse voice echoed in the air:

"Lorenzo...Piero's son."

Don Gilardino's tone was unusually slow, with a force that could not be denied. He paused for a long time before continuing: "Your father, is everything okay with him?"

Lorenzo was a little caught off guard. He had prepared many excuses to explain why he chose peace talks under such a good situation, but he didn't expect that Don Gilardino would just ask such a simple question.

"He's fine." Lorenzo said without thinking.

After listening to his answer, Don Gilardino still had a gentle smile on his wrinkled face, as if he was asking a question as simple as the literal meaning.He took another sip of his cigar, remained silent for a moment, and suddenly nodded his head.

"Ok."

As he said this, he looked around wordlessly.After receiving positive looks from the other members, he raised his wrist, indicating that Lorenzo could leave now.

Lorenzo found it unbelievable that this meeting, which was repeatedly explained by his father and Rafael, came to an end in just a few words.The majestic and solemn Don Girardino in the legend actually only asked a question and gave a two-word answer.Lorenzo was so frustrated that he felt like an idiot to his previously trembling self.But he won't understand:

No one will stop the peace talks, the people who support Barone hope to get a respite, and the people who support Maldini cannot go against their own wishes.Lorenzo's trip to New York was nothing more than a formality, an homage to Don Gilardino.

Everyone thinks so, and everything is logical, and everyone is happy.

Only Don Gilardino doesn't think so.

On the way back, he said to his adviser: "Lorenzo is not like Piero, he is a fool, he is a thing that cannot understand human language. If he will tell me honestly what happened to Maldini, I will give it to you." Can help him. But he doesn't trust me, God, how can he ask for help from a person he doesn't trust at all! And how can a person who can't be trusted at all help him!"

His advisers knew that Don Gilardino once owed Maldini a great favor, and perhaps what happened today was not just a simple meeting.It is a liquidation, a separation of favors, and a transfer of investment.He was keenly aware of this, so he frowned and suggested:

"Should we...should we find an opportunity to meet the new owner of Barone?"

Speaking of Barone's new owner, Don Gilardino's expression became even more distressed, and he said in a tone that was almost mournful: "Oh, God...you mean Xavier Barone? That little bastard, rascal , alcoholic. I even doubt that he can recite the Ten Commandments completely!"

But he paused again, lowered his head and muttered in a low voice:

"But Barone's advisor, Giuseppe Rizzo... that's a real smart guy, and a real tough guy."

The author has something to say:

Devil-like naming, everyone be careful not to get dizzy.