Seeing that Ribs didn't take the three major groups seriously, Alfred bowed slightly and reminded them, "Speaker, Kron's commission has reached the bottom line of these groups' survival. They are currently gathering, intending to bypass him and talk directly to you. If we don't contact them... I'm afraid something will happen."
He paused and continued, "Although they are powerless to challenge you, their determination to fight to the death should not be underestimated. If they launch violent attacks or sabotage activities in Chicago, it will undoubtedly tarnish the image of 'Peaceful Chicago' that you have carefully cultivated and will also affect the Blue Roof Project."
"The more critical issue is Kron. Although he hasn't done anything wrong, I heard that he has already stuffed all his trusted aides into Black Rabbit Security. What if..."
Reeves' brows were deeply furrowed. He now hated the feeling of things being out of control.
"Tsk..." Ribs snorted impatiently, and after weighing the pros and cons for a moment, he made a decision.
"Okay, you arrange a location." His tone returned to its usual cold and hard tone, and he emphasized, "It must be absolutely safe, clean, and invisible. I am now the Speaker of Chicago, not a street broker. I don't want to be associated with these drug dealers..."
"Understood, Speaker," Alfred responded quickly without hesitation. "I've already arranged the location. The meeting will be held late at night. Participants will be strictly screened, and communications will be blocked to ensure no trace is left."
"Well, good!" Ribs waved his hand. "I want to see if these sewer rats, besides their cries, can muster any 'sincerity' to beg for a chance to live. And by the way, let's find out how much profit that mad dog Kruen has made."
A few days later, late at night, in a remote abandoned industrial area in the suburbs of Chicago, the "7th Waste Vehicle Processing Plant"
Deep within this so-called scrap car processing plant, a cold white light shines in a specially modified office that looks unremarkable on the outside but is heavily guarded on the inside.
Ribbs sat at the head of the table, dressed in a dark casual suit, a lit cigar between his fingers. Alfred, as usual, stood half a step behind him.
Sitting across the table were Salvador, Julio, and Marcus.
They all took off their distinctive street attire and put on low-key business clothes, but the hostility and tension between their brows could not be completely concealed.
"Your Excellency, Speaker."
Salvador spoke first, "We know you're busy, and we didn't want to disturb you... But Kruen's bone-draining and marrow-sucking methods really leave no chance of survival!"
Julio immediately responded, "Yes, Speaker! You have to give us justice. We paid Kron 65% of the profits! He didn't even leave us a drop! More than 300 families under my command depend on the transport of goods for their livelihood, Speaker!"
As he spoke, he pulled out a thick account book, carefully placed it on the table, and pushed it forward. "Every page of the account here is clearly stated. Farmers in my hometown of Colombia are almost starving to death in the fields—Kluane has lowered the purchase price to even lower than the price of growing corn!"
Marcus had a bad temper. He slammed the table and said, "Yesterday! Yesterday! Three of my delivery guys had their legs broken and were dumped on Highway 94 by Kron's men for 'illegal transportation'! The goods were labeled with Black Rabbit stickers and became his 'drug-busting trophies!'" He panted like a beast. "Kron is going to wipe us out completely... Apart from coming to you... we really have no other choice!"
After hearing this, Ribs did not immediately pick up the account book on the table.
He took a slow puff of his cigar, the smoke swirling in the cold white light, blurring his deep and unfathomable expression.
"Okay, I get it. Kruen... did go a bit too far." Ribs' voice was not loud, but it hit the hearts of the three people like a heavy hammer.
Just these words made a glimmer of hope flash in Salvador's eyes.
"Speaker! We are willing to pay! But we need fair rules! We hope to reach a new agreement directly with you, guaranteeing a higher 'tax rate' than during the Kron era, as well as... absolute stability and order! We guarantee that Chicago's 'business' will become... a quietly operating project, just like the Blue Roof Project!"
Julio and Marcus also nodded repeatedly.
Ribbs slowly exhaled a puff of cigar smoke, and the grayish-white smoke ring swirled up under the cold light.
In an instant, a perfect idea flashed through his mind.
"Higher tax rates?" He suddenly chuckled, tapping his knuckles on the table. "Everyone, you still haven't gotten over your street thug mentality." He leaned forward slightly, his gaze sweeping across three anxious faces. "Kruen taking 65% is leaving you with no way to survive? Then... let me show you a real way to survive."
The room fell into a dead silence. Alfred's eyes flickered slightly behind his glasses—he was also listening carefully to what Reeves was about to say next.
Capital Restructuring Plan
"Alfred." Ribbs' voice cut through the silence, "Please contact Heisenberg and have him come over immediately."
Alfred immediately started making a call, he already guessed what Ribs was going to do.
The bosses of the three major groups were stunned when they heard this. They had no idea who Heisenberg was.
Julio even thought that Reeves was going to find someone to catch them all in one fell swoop, and immediately stood up excitedly.
"Mr. Julio, please calm down." Alfred said while holding the phone. "Our Speaker is a man of integrity and would never attack you at a time like this."
After hearing this, Julio sat back down in his chair.
Thirty minutes later, Heisenberg, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and a white coat, hurried into the secret room of the scrapyard. The smell of chemical reagents lingered faintly on his cuffs.
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