Saul tilted his head, looking at the veterinarian with a smirk. Skilled people are different, he thought.
Most would never dare to shout like that in front of a group of hardened criminals.
Pushing the doctor's fingers away, Sean seized his wrist and gripped it tightly. "Ah!" the veterinarian yelped, instinctively pulling back his hands.
With a grin, Saul grabbed the man's hand and shook it vigorously. "I'm very satisfied with your craftsmanship. I'll be back next time I need assistance."
The veterinarian's expression darkened, his nostrils flaring in anger.
Sean, oblivious to the tension, continued cheerfully, "And just to clarify a couple of things: first, we're not drug criminals, and I don't engage in that pan-drug business. My two brothers were hurt by drug criminals, you see."
Hearing that Saul wasn't involved in drugs lightened the veterinarian's mood a bit. Although he was still fuming, he felt more at ease knowing he wouldn't be shot at without warning.
"What else do you need?"
"I need to find someone immediately. They should be familiar with the local gangs, the neighborhood, the petty thieves, and the police station. Today made me realize how weak my connections are, and I want to rectify that right away."
"Alright, I'll think it over and get back to you tomorrow," the veterinarian replied, frowning.
"Make the call," Sean said, leaving a business card and tossing three rolls of cash totaling $3,000 onto the table. He then waved goodbye to Jonas and the others as he left.
The veterinarian spat lightly, grabbing the money. All his lingering dissatisfaction vanished.
A well-placed knife is the best medicine for wounds.
Once they were sure no one was following, Saul and his team returned to the factory, settled in with Jonas, and rested.
Sean understood that the main goal was to eliminate threats, especially from the Salamanca mafia. The challenge was that he had no idea where they were hiding, whether in Newark or elsewhere—he couldn't even pinpoint a target.
All of this depended on the veterinarian finding someone who could guide him, or perhaps Yuri could gather intel from New York. That was why he never allowed Yuri to leave the original gang.
The night passed uneventfully. By the morning of October 3, major newspapers in New York and local papers in Jersey City reported on the gang shootout that had erupted in the northern suburbs. The chaos unfolded on the other side of the Manhattan River, where flames from an explosion were visible from the upper floors of nearby buildings.
The news criticized the police for their inaction and urged society to pay attention to the violence, but it sparked little controversy since there were no bodies at the scene. The extent of the gang conflict remained unclear.
This reflected Sean's clever planning from the previous day.
For the Jersey City police, however, they received specific information from local gangs that night. It would be unusual for the police station not to maintain close ties with local gangs, given their limited manpower and reliance on gang networks for information.
When the Jersey City police chief learned of the situation, he was stunned. The death toll had reached 23, including Hector, the head of Salamanca, all killed in a professional and brutal manner. Even as the gang surrendered, they continued to fire indiscriminately, leaving seven dead and many more injured.
The conflict had originated from Sean's sudden smuggling of high-end wine in Newark, clashing with Salamanca's interests in the local market. When Salamanca retaliated by capturing some of Sean's people, they were caught off guard by Sean's ruthless response, which included heavy firepower.
While cursing the newcomers as reckless, the chief secretly appreciated that they had the foresight to create a chaotic scene, diverting police attention and cleaning up afterward to minimize trouble.
This conveyed an unspoken understanding—the director acknowledged it and would handle it accordingly.
Of course, this understanding remained unvoiced.
As for how the police knew Sean was behind it all yet didn't make arrests, it was akin to their awareness of the various gangs in the city engaging in drug trafficking without taking action.
The police were often intertwined with the criminal underworld, and even if arrests were made, replacements would quickly fill the void.
In many cases, there existed a tacit understanding that was never articulated.
Unless drug legalization came into play...
This situation mirrored Saul's side, where the police had no evidence, leaving them powerless to intervene.
"Crazy! This is ridiculous!" Stephen Keria exclaimed, tossing the newspaper onto his desk. His subordinates stood beside him, heads bowed, too intimidated to speak.
"How many died?"
"Twenty-three
"Twenty-three."
"Using RPGs?"
"Yes."
"Damn it!" Stephen Keria leaned back heavily in his chair, pulling out a cigarette. His subordinate quickly lit it for him. Taking a deep drag, he exhaled a long plume of smoke. "What I hate most is these newcomers. They have no idea what they're doing."
"RPGs! Why not just bring a tank while they're at it?"
Stephen was frustrated. After over 50 years of evolution, the New York Mafia families had abandoned the reckless violence of the past—especially after being hit hard by the FBI multiple times. Now, they preferred to strengthen their power through economic and political means, rather than sheer brutality.
It was like wearing a suit and tie while sitting in an office, sipping red wine and smoking cigars. No one wanted to go back to the docks to deal with the stench of fish and rotten shrimp.
"Mr. Stephen, should we take action ourselves?" one of his subordinates asked cautiously.
"No, let's stay out of that market. The Lucchese family has invested heavily in smuggled alcohol—between transportation, customs, and other costs, their profits are minimal. It's not worth the trouble."
Stephen weighed the potential benefits against the risks carefully.
Just as Sean and the Jersey City police reached an unspoken agreement, the veterinarian, Jerome, called at noon. "I found him for you. Do you want to meet? You can negotiate the price yourself. If you're satisfied, my agency fee is $5,000."
"Okay, ask him to come to this location. We'll meet in half an hour," Sean instructed. After hanging up, he took Bill and another associate with him into the car and set off.
The atmosphere was tense as they drove through the streets. Sean knew that every moment counted, and with the right connections, they could turn the tide in their favor. With each passing block, he felt the weight of the situation pressing down on him, but he was determined to regain control.
As they arrived at the meeting point, Sean reminded himself of the stakes. If he could establish ties with the right people, he could gather the information needed to dismantle the threats looming over him and his brothers.
The game was dangerous, but Sean was ready to play.
The scene was set for a crucial moment, one that could change everything. Would Sean make the right connections, or would the chaos continue to spiral out of control? Only time will tell.