A Shadow in Atlantic City
As soon as the phone was hung up, the bell rang again. It was Nuki.
"Charlie, I'm organizing a national Mafia Committee meeting in Atlantic City on October 1. We'll select members for the committee to try Luciano's crimes. I'd like to invite you to attend," Nuki stated firmly as soon as the connection was made.
"Er, I'll be busy in October, and besides, Nuki, as I've told you before, I don't want to get involved. It sounds interesting, but I'm just not interested in participating."
October 1? The harvest season was drawing near, and there was no time to waste in the company of criminals.
"That's a pity," Nuki replied, his voice tinged with disappointment. "But I'll hire 40 more bodyguards to ensure the safety of both yourself and Atlantic City."
"Charlie, your bodyguards really are impressive." Nuki's enthusiasm shifted to his admiration for the team.
After hanging up, Charlie Lee learned what had happened—someone had tried to stab Nuki with a dagger, but one of his bodyguards swiftly intervened, countering the attacker and preventing any harm. The bold action and decisive response were more thrilling than anything from a Hollywood action film.
Fortunately, the bodyguard only suffered a superficial wound to his arm, which had already healed.
At this stage, Charlie knew that sacrifice was an inevitable part of the job. Those who chose this path had to accept that bloodshed would accompany their rise. He had no time for sentimentality; his focus remained on strengthening Aegis Bureau and continuing its growth.
Sitting in the quiet cemetery, Charlie Lee placed a handful of wildflowers on Jamie Tang's grave and spoke to the headstone as if Jamie could hear him. "I've come to see you. Is everything okay below? By the way, your house has changed. A new one was built in the West, and everyone pitched in to help."
"Your parents received $1,000 compensation. Don't bother thanking me in your dreams. And about your sister, don't worry, everyone will take care of her. Unless Area 22 is wiped off the map, no one will dare to harm her. We've got guns, people, and money…"
As he stood up from the grave, Charlie turned his gaze to the training ground. His life had taken some unexpected turns, but with each passing day, his heart brimmed with hope. He smiled as the days got closer to his future goals.
However, things weren't going as smoothly for Chicago's chief secretary, Grant Fouzer. The constant pressure from higher-ups and the failure to control his city had left him on the verge of collapse. The political landscape had shifted dramatically, and every day was an uphill battle.
Grant Fouzer spent his days ruminating in his office. The shadow of Al Capone loomed over everything. If it weren't for Capone's influence, Grant would never have backed Thompson and gone against William Dover, who was now on the verge of political collapse. Dover, though once a star, was doomed to be overshadowed by the mistakes he had made. Meanwhile, Capone languished in Philadelphia prison, with the IRS and FBI filing 23 charges against him.
The Italian mafia in Chicago had a new godfather, Paul, but it was Charlie Lee who controlled everything from behind the scenes. Those who knew the truth understood that Charlie was the real mastermind, using his power to manipulate events in ways no one could fully comprehend.
"Charlie Lee…" Grant Fouzer muttered as he looked over a file containing information on the mysterious figure. News had reached him that the notorious Luciano had killed his godfather, Maranzano, to claim the New York throne. He was consolidating power, and Charlie was rumored to be on the chopping block next.
Fouzer knew he needed a new patron, someone powerful enough to support him through the shifting political tides. He could see that William Dover, though popular, was not the future. When the election was over, Dover would no longer be of use to him. He needed to act fast to secure a stronger backing.
"Charlie Lee…" Grant repeated, determined to find a way to turn this situation to his advantage. The pressure was on, and with election day looming, Fouzer knew he had little time to secure his future.
The rest of the city seemed oblivious to the turbulence that was simmering under the surface. Meanwhile, Charlie Lee's life continued to move forward with a sense of purpose and growth. Each day brought new challenges and successes as he cultivated his network, ensuring that the Aegis Bureau would rise to power.
"Boss, good morning," one of Charlie's subordinates greeted him as he arrived at the training ground, his breath visible in the crisp morning air.
Charlie smiled and stretched, watching as a group of men, sweating and energized, trained hard under the morning sun. It had become a daily ritual for them. The air buzzed with their enthusiasm, and Charlie felt the familiar thrill of strength and discipline surrounding him.
"Hans, come warm up with me," Charlie said, turning to his associate.
"Oh, Boss, can I switch with someone else?" Hans asked, his face contorted with mild frustration.
"You're getting stronger, haven't you noticed? Your progress has been rapid recently." Charlie spoke with approval as he kicked his legs and moved his shoulders. "Stick with it; you'll keep getting better."
Hans's eyes lit up with realization. Recently, he had noticed significant improvement in his strength and skills. There was something special about training alongside Charlie Lee.
Charlie wasn't sure if his suspicions were correct, but those who trained with him seemed to experience a noticeable boost in their physical capabilities. It was most evident in Wang Dagou, who had started as a factory worker. Now, his strength was legendary, capable of feats like smashing stones and kicking down thick tree trunks with ease.
Wang had risen through the ranks, and now he was the second most feared person in the Aegis Bureau after Charlie himself. The others feared Wang even more than Charlie, as he was the one who enforced discipline and handed out punishments.
As the days passed, Charlie Lee's team came together. His newest recruits, Graun and Papol, were top statisticians from Wall Street, while Maiton and Johnny were financial managers with sharp instincts. There was also Sanier, a tax lawyer with a sharp mind and a beauty that had made an impression wherever she went. She had once worked for the IRS in New York but had grown disillusioned with her superiors and left the agency.
Charlie also recruited Mahdi, a legal expert who had once worked for JP Morgan, as well as Michelle, a partner in Mahdi's law firm. Each of them brought unique skills to the table, and Charlie felt a sense of accomplishment as he surveyed his team.
But with success came more challenges. Charlie Lee knew that in this dangerous game, only the strongest could survive. The political and criminal worlds were full of uncertainty, but for Charlie, this was just the beginning. He was ready to face whatever came next, with a smile on his face and determination in his heart.
In the end, Charlie Lee's journey was only beginning. The coming months would test his strength, his alliances, and his ability to stay one step ahead of those who sought to topple him. But for now, Charlie was ready—his team was ready—and the future was his to shape.
A Prelude to the Great Depression
"Ladies and gentlemen, before you are welcomed, I would like to clarify one point first," Charlie Lee said, standing before the gathered crowd with a serious expression.
"From the moment you choose to join, until the end of November, your communication with the outside world will be under strict surveillance. The extent of what you can gain, I can only estimate to be in the six to seven-figure range."
As he spoke, he watched the varied expressions on the faces of those present. Their initial anger gave way to shock, then to greed, before settling into a contemplative silence. Charlie clapped his hands and added with a smile, "But, all of this depends on your performance."
One of the participants, Sanier, was the first to speak up. "How strict will the monitoring be?"
"It will be extremely strict," Charlie replied without a hint of humor. "You won't be allowed to communicate with the outside world, go out without permission, or even speak with each other. No phone calls, no letters, no contact of any kind. However, I will ensure that someone is there to take care of your daily needs."
"What about our families?" asked Mahdi, his tone cautious.
"You will have to come up with your own explanations. Whether you claim to be on business, going to the government, or traveling abroad—it's up to you," Charlie answered.
A financial manager, curious about the offer, asked, "Seven figures? Is that for real?"
"Your only concern should be whether you can achieve it," Charlie responded coldly. "If the plan succeeds, what is a million dollars worth compared to the bigger picture?"
Michelle, a key figure in the operation, took control and began preparing the contracts. As she walked out, she paused and turned around, asking, "Where's the typewriter? Can someone show me where it is?"
Charlie, smiling, gestured toward the door. "Now, welcome to the 'One-Night Fortune' plan!"
Some participants exchanged looks, muttering under their breath, "What a terrible name," but none dared to voice their complaints openly.
After signing a labor and confidentiality agreement, Charlie asked Ben, his trusted associate, to explain the tasks in more detail. The room filled with gasps of disbelief as the plan began to unfold. Ben had spent over a month gathering information, uncovering what appeared to be a mere layer of glass that, once broken, revealed a new world of opportunities.
"Brother Dog, you personally oversee the safety of these individuals. Focus on the training grounds later. As soon as we complete this operation, the rewards will be great," Charlie told Wang Dagou, a loyal member of their inner circle.
Wang Dagou, responsible for ensuring the security of the operation, had brought along 30 highly skilled Chinese special guards. Twenty of them were stationed at the club, overseeing the individuals' safety and ensuring the secrecy of their activities.
Charlie did not want the operation to be widely known, and he wanted to keep a low profile. After all, no one would expect the star of the Great Depression to suddenly profit by $100 million, only to vanish into obscurity shortly after.
Two years from now, divorces, alcoholism, and even suicides would follow. Everything, however, was normal in this high-risk world of finance.
On August 28, 1929, the team, with Ben at the helm, began their work, dividing responsibilities between the New York Stock Exchange and Chicago. Charlie liquidated his shares, exiting with 1.1 million yuan from Paul's tearful business dealings at Hans Bar. It was an impressive return—$600,000 in just three months. No wonder Nuki had readily handed over a $66,000 check.
With his hands on a total of $2.573 million, Charlie felt far from satisfied. The once-in-a-lifetime opportunity loomed before him, and his ambitions stretched far beyond his current wealth.
"Boss, the company has agreed to provide you with a $3 million loan, with a monthly interest rate of 35%. There's no need for collateral," Ben informed him during a private conversation.
Charlie's eyes gleamed with excitement. The 35% interest rate may have seemed outrageous, but in the current financial climate, it was the legal rate. He was now preparing to move forward with the loan as he and Ben flew to Manhattan.
At JP Morgan's headquarters, after signing a few documents, Charlie was assured that the money would be available the following day. As he exited the building, he took a moment to gaze at the bustling New York Stock Exchange. Though he paused briefly, he soon turned away, determined to avoid any social distractions.
Later that evening, several JP Morgan executives reached out to entertain Charlie, a client they saw as promising. However, he declined, eager only to receive the loan and leave the city quickly. With the money in hand, Charlie was ready to divide his team into two: one group would focus on trading in New York, while the other would be based in Chicago, remotely managing operations.
That evening, Charlie met Bob, a trader at the New York Stock Exchange who would prove crucial to the success of the operation. Charlie needed someone with insider knowledge of the market—someone reliable. In an era where traders relied on telephone calls, typewriters, and blackboards to track market activity, Bob was an essential piece of the puzzle.
Charlie quickly secured Bob's loyalty by paying him a $100,000 check, a sum that made him feel a pinch, but it was necessary. The following morning, Charlie, with Ben at his side, arrived early at Wall Street, before the doors of JP Morgan even opened. Wall Street was far from the glamorous image most people imagined. The streets were narrow and cramped, often filled with homeless individuals waiting for the exchange to open so they could solicit business from traders.
Later that morning, Charlie met Juliana, the attractive and polished director of the loan department at JP Morgan. Their interaction was cordial but formulaic—Charlie could tell that, while polite, she saw him as little more than a transaction.
"Thank you for your help," Charlie said, shaking her hand as he accepted the loan check.
"I hope our paths cross again," Juliana responded with a smile, though Charlie noticed the coldness in her eyes. She represented the establishment, and Charlie knew better than to get too attached to her.
After parting ways, Charlie left New York behind, returning to Chicago, where he had built his base of operations. As a Chinese man in a foreign country, he felt an attachment to the city that had given him everything he had. His love for Chicago had grown over the years, and he could count on the loyalty of those who were invested in the success of the venture.
"The capital of $5.57 million is sufficient," Charlie said to Ben on the last day of August, presenting him with the check.
"By now, I hope you've had time to think it over," Charlie continued, his voice taking on a serious tone. "Let's talk about the percentage of profits you will receive this time."
Nothing gets a person's attention like cold, hard cash. To keep the momentum going, Charlie raised one finger and announced, "If the profit hits $100 million, I'll give you 8%. If we reach $200 million, you'll get 12%."
He wasn't entirely sure if they could pull it off, but the glint of excitement in his partners' eyes reassured him. The potential for massive profit was real, and with a bit of luck and well-timed investments, they could ride the coming wave.
On the plane, as Wang Dagou and the team prepared for the upcoming operations, Charlie couldn't help but reflect on the enormity of what lay ahead. The Great Depression was about to unfold, and while many would suffer, those in the know would stand to profit handsomely.
But as the plane took off, Charlie felt a strange emptiness. Despite everything he had planned, there was an undeniable sadness in his heart.
"I must have eaten too many lemons," he thought bitterly to himself. "Damn it."
Charlie Lee's Bold Moves
"Alright, boss, I'll call now." After hearing the response, Charlie Lee chuckled and muttered under his breath, "Son of a bitch, you have no future." He shook his head, his mood lightened by the brief exchange.
It was a significant moment—the Aegis Bureau had finally received its first official business. This deal was with a client from El Paso County, Texas, a region bordering Mexico, particularly near the city of Juarez. The area had a history of tension, dating back to the aftermath of the U.S.-Mexico war. Though decades had passed, the rivalry between these cities was still palpable, fueled by deep-seated ethnic divisions and economic disparities.
The contrast between El Paso and Juarez was stark. While El Paso thrived, changing rapidly with each passing month, Juarez remained stagnant, trapped in an endless cycle of hardship. The resentment on both sides was growing. Many of the Mexican citizens residing in El Paso were descendants of people who had once lived in Juarez, making the border region's politics all the more complicated. And while some of the Mexicans crossed into El Paso seeking a better life, others came with vengeance on their minds, only adding fuel to the already burning hatred.
The client was an individual who frequently traveled between El Paso and Juarez for business. Concerned about his safety, he sought the services of bodyguards. He requested a team of four, two Chinese and two white Americans, for a trial period of one month. This peculiar combination caught Charlie by surprise but also piqued his interest.
Charlie was a man who prided himself on the reliability and endurance of the Chinese people. However, hearing the client refer to them as "honest, willing to endure hardships, and trustworthy" made him feel conflicted. Was it a compliment, or was he being stereotyped as someone harmless, like a "little white rabbit"? "I hate honest people," he muttered to himself, frustrated by the apparent misunderstanding of his people's true nature.
Sitting in his office, Charlie flipped through the latest edition of the Washington Post, where he saw a familiar face. It was Andrew Mellon, the U.S. Secretary of the Treasury, who had just made a speech about the state of the national economy. His words rang hollow to Charlie, who could see through the political facade. "There's no reason to worry now. The economy is on the rise," Mellon had proclaimed. Charlie, with his sharp instincts, scoffed at the statement, already predicting the impending downfall. "Go home and die! There's no need to rescue any more," he thought bitterly.
Meanwhile, in a high-end office in New York, a heated discussion was underway.
"Ben, I still have some doubts about the boss's words," Johnny, a financial manager, expressed.
Ben, calm and collected, answered, "Since 1927, how many have questioned the madness of the stock market? Stock analysts? Bankers? Do they really understand what stocks are? Look at the market now, it's still climbing, despite everything."
Johnny wasn't entirely convinced. "But what about last year's T-Mac investment warning? They aren't amateurs."
Ben nodded thoughtfully. Moody's, a well-known debt rating agency, had made it clear that the market was heading toward disaster. Despite the warning signs, Johnny hesitated to believe in the collapse.
"Look at GM's stock price, it's at $120.5," Johnny argued, "and USS's stock price is $110.5. Yesterday it was $112. Does that not prove everything is fine?"
Ben shook his head, "No, it's not fine. Investors are driven by panic. The stock market continues to rise despite a weak economy, but the climb is slowing down. Just look at the USS stock's performance last month—only 30% growth."
Johnny's face fell as he realized the implications. "That means less money is being invested."
Ben continued, "And don't forget who's running for office now."
"Herbert Hoover?" Johnny asked, puzzled.
"Yes. When Hoover first announced his candidacy, the stock market surged. The public is optimistic about him winning, and now the market's behavior is reflecting that."
Ben's analysis started to make sense to Johnny. However, Mahdi, another analyst, spoke up. "Winter is coming. People have no money left."
Ben nodded. "Overcapacity, unsold products, the overall economic weakness, and the Fed's actions last year have all contributed to this point. The collapse is inevitable, and it's only a matter of time before it happens."
The room fell into a somber silence as the gravity of the situation set in. But Charlie Lee, from his own perspective, saw the unfolding events differently. He had already positioned himself, knowing that the great depression was coming. The market crash was imminent, and he was prepared to capitalize on it.
On September 5, the Dow Jones reached a record high of 386 points. Headlines across the nation proclaimed that the market would continue to soar. However, just days later, on September 8, stocks began to show signs of weakness. U.S. Radio's stock, for example, opened at $120.5 and closed at $115 after a slight sell-off.
Charlie Lee knew what had to be done. He had already placed a massive bet—5.57 million dollars in short positions—believing the market would soon collapse. The war had begun.
At the Aegis Bureau, the atmosphere was tense. The team worked tirelessly, filling the office with charts and analysis. "Are you sure this is okay?" someone asked, concerned about the volatility.
"Keep going. Don't make it too big yet," Charlie instructed, his mind sharp and focused.
"What's this about the central bank raising interest rates? That could be problematic," another voice chimed in.
"Select the top 150 stocks with the highest prices and short them. Leverage up to 30 times. Do it now," Charlie ordered with unwavering certainty.
The room buzzed with activity as the team followed his instructions, preparing for the inevitable collapse. Sitting back in his chair, Charlie felt a sense of calm wash over him. His strategy was in motion, and he was ready for the rewards that would soon come.
Days later, on the training ground, Charlie's team began to notice his unusual behavior. For the past five days, he had been restless, walking in circles and staring off into the distance. It was as though he were going through a personal crisis. Some of the trainers began to speculate whether he was in a "bottleneck" period, as they had heard about from General Instructor Jack Wang.
But Charlie knew better. The pressure from the stock market and the looming financial crisis weighed heavily on his mind. The clock was ticking, and the outcome was unpredictable.
"No, I need to go to New York," Charlie suddenly decided, grabbing his clothes and preparing to leave. But just as he was about to head out, the phone rang.
"Boss, it's happening! Ha ha!" Ben's voice crackled through the line, filled with excitement. Charlie quickly hung up, grabbed his jacket, and rushed to the office, his pulse quickening with anticipation.
He burst through the door, his team still frantically working. "Are we on track?" Charlie asked, his voice steady but urgent.
"Yes, we're moving forward. But, boss, the situation is evolving quickly."
The stock market was on the edge of a massive collapse, and Charlie Lee was ready to reap the rewards of his calculated risk. The final phase of his grand plan had begun.