Kron was standing next to a Roman column at the edge of the banquet hall.
He was wearing a brand new Armani suit and was trying hard to imitate the demeanor of the people around him. His eyes were constantly scanning the entire room, looking for someone to cling to.
Even though Kruen had almost unified the entire New York underworld, he was still completely unqualified on this occasion.
The only reason he could attend today's dinner was because of a local banker named Howard.
Kroon gave Howard at least seven figures worth of money he had looted on the streets in exchange for the identity of this "guest" tonight, and sneaked in under the name of Howard's accompanying business partner.
Howard was not far away, talking to an old gentleman with silver hair and extraordinary demeanor. Kroon listened from a few steps away, and the words about "market volatility", "global macro liquidity" and "policy uncertainty" hit his ears like hieroglyphics.
He couldn't get a word in, and could only stand there like a loyal bodyguard, trying hard to maintain a stiff smile. He could feel the glances of those around him passing by, all filled with undisguised disdain.
"What bad luck!" Kroon cursed inwardly. "Damn it! Back in Chicago, I was a man who could shake the ground with just a stomp of my foot. But here, I have to act like a grandson to the wealthy and have to f**k around."
In order to get in tonight to see the world and win over some real big shots, he paid a heavy price, not only in money, but also in dignity.
Thinking of Howard's smiling face when he received the money and his current disgust towards him, Kroen's anger rose in his chest.
He forced himself to shift his attention away from Howard and looked at the crowd around him.
Under the magnificent crystal chandeliers, politicians, tycoons, and art celebrities chatted easily. They hold the lifeblood of this city and even the country in their hands.
Kruen's heart was burning with excitement. This was the circle he was desperately trying to squeeze into!
"As long as I can get one or two of them, I can really gain a foothold in New York. By then, the Black Rabbit, the King of Chicago..." The grand blueprint flashed through his mind again.
At this moment, he seemed to feel a pair of eyes staring at him.
Kron also turned his head subconsciously, and the next second, the blood drained from his face.
The person staring at him from a distance was actually his boss, Reeves!
Ribs, the man whom Kroon had cursed countless times in his heart and wanted to trample under his feet one day, was accompanied by Hamilton himself.
It was the first time for Reeves to attend such an event, but he was full of aura, as if he was born to belong here. Kezia, who was holding his arm, was also radiant, like the most luxurious accessory, silently announcing his status.
What made Kroon even more frightened was that Hamilton and Ribs were walking towards him through the crowd.
Cold sweat instantly soaked Kruen's back.
He felt like a clown, nakedly pinned to the spot under the spotlight. All the tickets he had painstakingly obtained through humiliation became a complete joke in the face of Ribbs's well-deserved invitation.
Kruen's hand holding the champagne began to tremble uncontrollably, and the expensive champagne swayed on the wall of the glass and almost spilled out.
Banker Howard also noticed the change in atmosphere. When he saw that Reeves's eyes were on Kroon beside him, Howard felt ashamed. He subconsciously took a small step away from Kroon, fearing that he would be implicated.
Hamilton led Ribs and Keshia straight through a small crowd and finally stopped in front of Kroon - just a few steps away.
The air seemed to freeze.
Ribs stopped, his face showing no surprise, no anger, not even a trace of emotion.
Instead, there was a smile that was so gentle that it made people's heart palpitate.
That smile was not directed at Hamilton, nor was it friendly to Clune. It was more like the smile of a pet dog whose owner watched someone break into the living room and knock over a vase but was afraid to run away.
"Kruen?" Ribs' voice was neither too loud nor too low, just enough for people nearby to hear.
There seemed to be a hint of surprise in his tone. "I never expected to run into one of our own at Mr. Hamilton's party in New York. Is it that our New York branch hasn't been busy lately, so you've had some time to come... socialize?"
Ribbs deliberately emphasized the word "social," as if questioning what Clune was doing.
Kron's body shuddered violently. He could feel the scrutiny of the New York bigwigs and tycoons around him. The muscles in his cheeks twitched uncontrollably, and a hot current of boundless anger, immense humiliation, and overwhelming fear rushed to his head.
He wanted to roar, to smash the fake smile in front of him with one punch! His mind quickly flashed back to his ferocity in the bloody battle in the slaughterhouse, his arrogance in calling the wind and rain on the streets of New York, and the grand blueprint of trampling Reeves under his feet...
However, the cold reality was like a basin of ice water poured over my head.
This is the Nightingale Club!
Anyone around him could crush his "Black Rabbit Security New York Branch" which is built on violence with just a flick of the finger.
More importantly, the man in front of him, Ribs, known as the "King of Chicago", was a distinguished guest personally invited by the club's chairman Hamilton.
And what about himself? Howard, the banker whom he had tried so hard to curry favor with in order to get in here, was now avoiding him like the plague.
All the anger was instantly compressed in front of the real symbol of power in New York and under the seemingly gentle but actually cold scrutiny of Reeves.
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