At that moment, William Dever found himself harboring a measure of regret for cooperating with the Chinese man seated before him. The ruthless efficiency and sheer capability Charlie Lee demonstrated sent a chill through the mayor, planting a deep sense of unease.
If Dever had known that Charlie had single-handedly orchestrated the events of the previous night, with Wang Dagou merely providing a momentary distraction, his perception of Charlie's threat would have skyrocketed.
Killers like Charlie were sometimes more terrifying than the Mafia. With the Mafia, one could predict certain patterns, but a lone assassin? You could never know when, where, or how they might strike.
"What do you want?" William Dever asked cautiously, trying to mask his apprehension.
"A safe place to stay and a fresh identity—along with new names and addresses," Charlie replied, his voice edged with a hint of cruelty.
Charlie knew there was no turning back now. The path he had chosen was one of no return. If Capone's men caught him, his fate would be sealed, and he'd die a brutal death. Immortality wouldn't matter in the face of the Mafia's wrath; even with his ability to heal, being torn apart piece by piece was a fate no one could endure.
And so, survival was Charlie's only focus. He didn't have the luxury of distractions, especially with less than $10 in his pocket.
"Give me a moment," Dever said, steadying himself. Yet, thoughts of Frank Nitti's violent end only made his nerves twitch uncontrollably.
As he pondered, a wild thought crept into his mind. If this Chinese man can eliminate all of Capone's top lieutenants… The vision of a bright, Mafia-free Chicago filled him with excitement.
"Well," Charlie broke the silence, leaning forward slightly. "Arrange a car for me. I need to gather some of my men and move toward Capone's territory."
"What exactly are you planning to do?" Dever asked warily.
"That's not your concern," Charlie said, his voice calm but resolute. He tapped his fingers rhythmically on the desk. "However, I can promise this: once I control the Chicago underground, the city will finally know peace. After all, we're friends, aren't we?"
Charlie's disarming smile only deepened Dever's unease. But the mayor forced a laugh, stood, and extended his hand. "Yes, Charlie, we're friends."
Charlie had another motive in mind, too. To secure the resources he needed, he promised Dever that, once he seized Carpenter's territory, he would return the favor tenfold.
"To reap the rewards, one must first plant the seeds," Charlie thought. He and Dever were both cultivators now, sowing in hopes of a fruitful harvest.
"History truly is deceitful," Charlie muttered under his breath as he exited the mayor's office. "An honest mayor—what a joke."
Adjusting his hat, he descended the steps with Wang Dagou trailing behind. Waiting at the curb was the car Dever had arranged for them.
"To Block 22," Charlie instructed as he climbed into the vehicle and drew the curtains.
"Block 22, sir?" the driver asked, puzzled.
Charlie sighed. The nearly forgotten Chinese district of Chicago was all but invisible to most residents, a place so obscure that it barely registered on the city's map.
After several turns down narrow, winding streets, the driver finally located the neglected area.
"Wait here," Charlie ordered as he and Wang Dagou stepped out. He surveyed the surroundings: dilapidated buildings, garbage-strewn alleys, and sparsely dressed Chinese residents who eyed them warily.
Approaching a family huddled outside a modest dwelling, Charlie offered a polite nod. "Hello. May I have a word with you?"
The man stiffened, clutching his daughter protectively. "Can I help you, sir?"
Charlie smiled. "Don't be afraid. My name is Charlie Lee, and this is Wang Dagou. We're Chinese, just like you."
As he casually sat on the ground, the family visibly relaxed—until Charlie reached into his pocket. The man's face turned pale, fearing a weapon, but his tension eased when Charlie produced a small, beautifully crafted green knife.
"This is for you," Charlie said, handing the blade to the little girl. "A gift to mark our meeting. What's your name?"
The girl hesitated, glancing at her father for approval. When he nodded, she whispered shyly, "Yanyan. My name is Yanyan."
Charlie smiled warmly. "Yanyan, I need your father's help. Can he gather everyone in the neighborhood? I'd like to talk to all of you about an opportunity to make money."
The man hesitated but eventually rose, signaling to the nearby residents. Within minutes, a crowd of curious onlookers had formed.
"Please, everyone, sit," Charlie said, gesturing for calm. When the murmuring subsided, he began.
"My name is Charlie Lee. I recently immigrated to America, just like many of you. I'm looking for 100 young men—brave and willing to work hard.
"For each family, I will pay $10 as a settlement fee. If anyone is injured or killed in the future, their family will receive $500 in compensation. And I promise, as long as I live, I will care for your families as my own—feeding the old, educating the young.
"If I fail to honor this promise, you can shoot me yourself."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. For these impoverished families, Charlie's offer seemed almost too good to be true.
A wiry young man stepped forward, his muscular arms and calloused hands evidence of hard labor. "Do you really have that much money?"
Charlie answered by tossing a thick stack of bills onto the ground. The sight of crisp $100 notes silenced the crowd.
"I'll join you," the young man declared, stepping closer.
"Good," Charlie said, handing him $10. "Give this to your family and meet me back here."
One by one, others followed, drawn by the promise of security and opportunity. By nightfall, Charlie had recruited 86 men—many malnourished but eager.
As they piled into the car, Wang Dagou glanced back at the tired yet determined faces trailing them. "How much is this going to cost us?" he asked, grimacing.
Charlie leaned back, a glint of determination in his eyes. "Brother Dog, these men are our future. Train them well. Soon, we'll be facing real battles—with real bullets."
"Leave it to me," Wang Dagou said grimly. "If they don't shape up, I'll force them to."
Their car rolled toward the manor William Dever had arranged. Charlie's plans were already in motion, and the first seeds of his empire had been sown.