Working as a police officer in Mexico

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"Find someone to take him out."

The eldest son nodded, "Understood."

The eldest grandson hesitated before speaking up, "Grandfather, I heard that Victor is a madman. If Casare is killed, and he sends people over, what should we do?"

"Haha~," Otto Lucchese patted his eldest grandson on the head, still fond of him, "He doesn't have the guts to be so reckless in the United States. He's a warlord who needs American support."

"And we are Americans."

If Victor dared to come, he dared to do a handstand and eat shit.

"Alright, help me down..." Otto Lucchese hadn't finished speaking when he suddenly heard the voice of the bodyguards outside.

"Stop!"

Then came gunshots.

Bang!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Someone was shooting? Who?

The other four of the Five Families? Impossible, the fortunes of a few would affect them all.

Could it be other gangs?

Who would dare to offend the Mafia in New York?

"Don't worry... little one... RPG!!" Otto Lucchese patted his eldest son and grandson's shoulders, his words of reassurance cut short.

A grenade flew through the doorway!

It hit a pillar, and the massive explosion blast swept down everyone nearby. The shrapnel from the exploding rocket killed quite a few of the unlucky ones.

If a piece of that shrapnel accidentally pierced your stomach, it could mangle your intestines.

Even Otto Lucchese was no exception, but he was unlucky, hit in the back of the head. Already old, he fell to the ground and convulsively jerked.

Arms raised.

"Father!" The eldest son, struggling to cope with the discomfort, ran over, but seeing that his father's face was already turning green, he loudly called for the survivors to carry him outside and run.

But these attackers were clearly fierce, with powerful weaponry.

Who the hell comes to one's doorstep to kill in the middle of the night?

Where's the decency in that?

The Lucchese Family wanted to call for help, but it was too late.

There was no escaping.

Instead, they were pinned at the entrance, pushed back by men brandishing weapons.

"There's a submachine gun under the statue of Jesus!"

The eldest grandson and several young family members rushed over, forcefully pushing aside the statue of Jesus, and sure enough, they saw an indent with an MP5 in it.

After loading the magazine, they stormed out furiously.

Just as they reached the doorway, the enemy threw in four or five grenades, one of which, by a cruel twist of fate, rolled right to the feet of the eldest grandson.

"RG-60TB thermobaric hand grenade!!"

Wow, this guy was a weapons enthusiast to recognize that gadget.

The tone of his voice was thick with horror and despair.

You could tell from the name.

Classic Russian.

Soviet-made, its keywords... fierce, absolute, quick!

That damn thing was just like a mini thermobaric bomb.

240 grams of aerosol explosive and shrapnel blasted out, and once the aerosol mixed with the air and oxygen, it triggered a secondary explosion.

As a result, the kill radius of this tiny grenade reached 7 meters; moreover, the secondary explosion created high-pressure and consumed oxygen, which was particularly effective in closed spaces like buildings or caves when facing living targets. The explosion instantly consumed the oxygen in a given space, so even if people affected by the blast didn't die, they would quickly suffer from oxygen deprivation worsening their injuries.

Its explosive effect was about equivalent to 10 conventional grenades, comparable to a 75mm shell packed with 600 grams of TNT.

Victor really didn't want these fellas to be at a disadvantage.

Local gangs weren't friendly at all.

Big caliber stuff wasn't all that necessary.

But such thermobaric grenades…

Absolute gangbusters.

The founder of "Mo Family" ideology once said: compared to Victor, I am just too damn kind.

After the huge explosion.

The church was in shambles.

A dozen or so armed militants wielding M16s came in, wearing gas masks, continuing to shoot the Mafia members on the ground.

Going for the head.

A brawny man wearing a mask held red spray paint and wrote on the wall in English: Fight against evil forces, uphold social justice and fairness! — New York's Robin Hood!

Only a fool would leave their true identity after using an RG-60TB thermobaric hand grenade. Who would dare to leave their name?

Wouldn't the FBI catch you red-handed?

Mainly because this thing was just too dangerous. Throw one at the White House, and the whole world would get tense.

"Boss, we found Otto Lucchese!"

Just then, a subordinate lifted his head and shouted, forcefully pulling out the "Lucchese" Godfather.

This old man…

Died rather peacefully, with hardly any pain at all.

``` Explore hidden tales at empire

"Give them a shock!" the muscular man's eyes flashed.

...

A group of people finished their job and ran without hesitation. By the time the Lucchese Family arrived, all they could see was that terrifying scene.

Next to the statue of Jesus, the body of Otto Lucchese was pierced through by a sharp cross and nailed firmly to the wall.

Blood seeped down from above, dripping onto the ground with a tap, tap, tap.

Meanwhile, half of Jesus's face beside him had been destroyed by the explosion, leaving only one eye, seemingly looking on in sorrow.

"Godfather!" The remaining Luccheses knelt on the ground, weeping loudly.

As though their own father had died. But in truth, their father had died.

The Godfather was dead!

At that moment, the sound of police sirens started singing "they're here, they're here" outside.

The always late police had finally arrived!

And some FBI agents as well.

A major shooting incident in New York—you'd think they wouldn't care.

The surviving members of the Lucchese Family were at a loss, allowing them to burst in.

Even they were shocked when they saw the Mafia Godfather nailed dead to the wall.

"Oh God!"

A female officer with golden hair covered her mouth in horror and, unable to bear the sight, ran to the side to vomit.

"New York is going to explode!"

...

"Boss, we did it!"

The underling in the passenger seat turned his head towards Mike Corleone.

The latter, sitting with his legs crossed, finished the last page of his book and closed it before nodding his head, "Who's next?"

"Blood Oath! They have strong suspicions regarding the attack on Mr. Victor."

"Shh!"

Mike Corleone put a finger to his lips in a silencing gesture, "Do we care about evidence?"

We're out here avenging Mr. Victor; anyone we suspect gets taken out!

What kind of decent gang is there, huh?

The underling was taken aback, then nodded vigorously.

Bang bang bang—

Just then, someone suddenly knocked on the window.

The driver rolled down the window, "Beat it! Go bother someone else."

"Sir... would you like to buy a flower?"

Mike Corleone turned his head and saw a little girl standing outside the window, wearing a red dress and looking at him nervously.

She also had a black bow tied on her head.

Seeing Mike Corleone looking at her, she became even more nervous, "Sir, a flower?"

The impatient driver was about to open the door and hit her for not heeding the warning, scaring her into taking a step back.

"Onsei!"

Mike Corleone called out gently, looking at her anxious demeanor, and gestured towards the flower in her hand, "I'll take them all, Fox, pay her."

The underling in the passenger seat quickly took out the money.

The little girl was startled but then bravely said, "Sir, flowers... flowers have a shelf life, you won't need that many, no need to waste your money."

Mike Corleone's expression softened upon hearing this, he glanced at her but said nothing.

The underling took the flowers and handed her the money.

"Thank you, thank you!"

"Will you have flowers tomorrow?"

The little girl nodded, "I can go pick them."

"Give her a business card, I'll take her flowers every day from now on."

Fox handed her a gilt business card.

The car window slowly rolled up, and the vehicle started to move.

Looking at the gilt business card in her hands, the little girl didn't know why, but tears began to fall.

"Boss, what do you want with flowers?" the underling couldn't help but ask. "These flowers aren't worth 100 US dollars."

Mike Corleone smelled the flowers under his nose and smiled.

The underling in front was horrified at the sight.

The boss...

Smiled?

Holy shit!

Was this some kind of haunting?

"Fox, believe in the light."

"The scent of flowers, truly intoxicating."

"Life is too harsh..."

...