Alfred immediately understood the Speaker's intention and bowed slightly: "Do you need me to inform him in advance to prepare for the reception?"

"Welcome?" Reeves raised his eyebrows slightly, his tone tinged with a hint of teasing, "No need. Giving him a 'surprise' would be more interesting. Besides...my private jet is just ready! It's a perfect opportunity to experience it."

There was a sense of ease and anticipation in Ribbs' voice. "From Chicago to New York, a private jet... this is the mode of transportation worthy of our status, isn't it?"

"Yes, Speaker." Alfred had accurately grasped the core of the order. "I will contact the crew immediately to ensure that your Boeing BBJ MAX is prepared as quickly as possible for the New York flight. Eugene will be responsible for ground operations. He will ensure that everything is arranged properly after landing."

"Very good." Ribs nodded with satisfaction and looked out the window again. "Let's do it tomorrow morning. Tell the crew that I want to enjoy an authentic Chicago steak and Bordeaux red wine in the air. Let Kruen... oh, no, there's no need to notify him for the time being."

Ribs's eyes turned cold and sharp, like a blade about to be unsheathed: "I want to see if Kruen has the guts to challenge me, the master of Chicago, face to face!"

Alfred turned and went out to arrange the plane, and the office fell silent again.

The sunlight shone through the glass onto Reeves, stretching his upright figure and casting his shadow on the carpet, like a dormant giant beast about to cover the sky above New York.