The Mafia Empire
Chapter 76: Chapter 76 Aftermath

According to official statistics, each truck of this model, along with its driver and co-driver, could fit up to fifty people, stacking them like cargo. After the war, during a victory speech in the capital, the prime minister passionately proclaimed that the transport capacity and reliability of these trucks had been crucial in ending the war as planned, in victory.

This truck was the hero among trucks, a true hero's truck!

The truck slowly pulled up to the company's entrance. A few young men immediately began loading the corpses onto the truck. As the bodies piled up, blood started to drip through the gaps in the truck bed, and the sounds of slaughter within the company began to subside. Corpses were carried out by the young men, thrown onto the truck as if they were nothing.

When the last injured thug, still barely alive, let out a faint moan, Dave walked over and plunged a dagger into his chest.

He, too, was tossed onto the truck.

The truck, loaded with bodies, along with a dozen injured young men and several members of The Fellowship Association who would never stand again, headed out of the city.

What followed was a thorough cleanup. The girls and boys washed away the bloodstains on the road with water, and the blood splattered throughout the company's interior was wiped away. Places that bore signs of struggle were smashed into fine pieces with thirty-pound hammers.

If one ignored the pinkish water flowing into the sewers, no one would ever suspect that a battle had taken place here, one that claimed over thirty lives.

As the cleanup was underway, the protector of Ternell City, Director Pronto, finally arrived, wobbling slightly with the support of two strong officers. He pulled out a handkerchief, wiping the sweat off his face, and sighed in satisfaction, "This damn weather is too hot..." His curious eyes glanced toward the building behind Julian.

There were no gang members with drawn swords, no blood soaked, mangled bodies—none of the scenes he had expected.

Wasn't Wood supposed to be seeking revenge?

Before Pronto could greet him, Julian disappeared into the alley, returning three minutes later in a different outfit, his mask removed. Pronto squinted, feeling a pang of jealousy. He understood why Julian had done this and had to admire his caution, prudence, and cleverness.

Pronto then noticed a small detail: all the young people quickly dispersing from the street were wearing masks. If this wasn't Kevin's idea, then the young man smiling faintly in front of him was terrifyingly shrewd. Whatever had happened here, whatever witnesses might step forward to accuse Julian, they would have to face cross-examination from lawyers.

How could they be certain of someone's identity when they only saw two eyes under a hat and mask?

Pronto could already imagine a group of young men standing before the court, all wearing hats and masks, indistinguishable from one another. How could any witness positively identify Julian in such a situation? Without clear identification, no matter how many people claimed they saw Julian, their testimony wouldn't stand.

Especially in a society where money could change certain things, without witnesses, testimony, or evidence and with money there would be no need for a trial, only a direct acquittal.

This young man was very clever. And also very dangerous. At least for now, it seemed Wood had suffered a loss.

"Director Pronto, is there some major event happening for you to bring so many officers with you?" Julian pulled out a cigarette and offered it to Pronto.

Normally, Pronto would have refused—not because of the quality of the cigarette, but due to the difference in social class. Sometimes, the gap is so vast that even if you offer a delicious piece of meat to those in high positions, they'll reject it not because the meat isn't good, but because the person offering it isn't "worthy."

But this time, Pronto accepted it and put it in his mouth. Julian lit it for him and then lit his own.

Pronto thought for a moment before smiling and saying, "The weather's been cooling down, and the city's heating hasn't started yet. It's cold in the office, so I brought the officers out for a walk to warm up."

He was offering Julian a favor, knowing that whatever had happened today was no longer his concern. Anyone trying to pin this on him would need to consider if it was worth it.

Julian nodded in agreement, criticizing the city's inaction, then shifted the topic. "How about this? I'll personally donate fifty radiators to the police station so that everyone can stay warm as the weather changes before the heating starts."

A single radiator cost fifteen dollars, making it a total of seven hundred fifty dollars—not too much, but not too little. More importantly, he wasn't giving money. Money only garners attention for a brief time, and once it's spent, it's forgotten. But items are different. Especially radiators—they could be used at home or in the office.

Every time someone used them, they'd remember who had given them the radiators.

Even if someone had a personal grudge against him, using the radiators that improved their living and working conditions would slowly change their perception.

Pronto immediately nodded in praise, warmly shaking Julian's hand and patting his arm—he didn't dare pat Julian's shoulder. "On behalf of all the officers in Ternell City, I thank you for your generosity!" He glanced back, and the stunned officers snapped to attention, clapping in unison.

Julian smiled and said, "It's only right. As a member of this city, this is what I should do. It's because of your protection that our city is so peaceful and beautiful!"

After the two exchanged some words that no one else could understand, Pronto immediately led the officers away. After walking a short distance, the friendly smile on his face gradually faded. He paused, stopped in his tracks, and slightly turned his body, glancing over his shoulder to watch Julian and two young men walk into the nearly destroyed storefront before shifting his gaze back.