Kruen stood there with his head bowed.
He could clearly sense the shift in the gazes around him. Those glances that had once held a hint of curiosity or scrutiny now contained nothing but undisguised... contempt.
Reeves's few casual words, "one of us", "run it with care", "don't embarrass me...", each word was like a loud slap in the face, hitting him hard.
The distinguished guests present also understood that this man named Kruen was just a high-level thug under the "King of Chicago" Reeves and a regional manager who was given some power.
The whispers began again, but the content was completely different.
"Did you hear that? Turns out he's just one of Ribbs's men..." A silver-haired old gentleman whispered to his companion, with a hint of disgust in his tone, as if he had just uncovered the truth about a cheap fake.
"Ha! I told you so. That 'Black Rabbit Security' caused quite a stir in New York. Turns out to be Reeves's henchman! It seems like Speaker Reeves is really powerful!" Another man in a custom-made suit took a sip of his wine and said sarcastically with a smile.
"It seems that banker Mr. Howard has miscalculated! It's shameful that he brought in such a punk!" Not far away, another guest glanced sympathetically at banker Howard who was trying hard to maintain his demeanor. His voice was not loud but clearly audible.
The noblewoman who had half-covered her mouth with a lace fan earlier now openly rolled her eyes in Kroon's direction and said, "Oh my God! Why are they bringing all these people in? Don't you think about where we are? Howard is really getting old and confused."
The person who made Kroon feel most uneasy was Howard.
The banker, whom he had spent seven figures of US dollars to get close to, was now blushing and pale, feeling extremely embarrassed.
Not only did he stop looking at Kruen, he even took a few steps away and stood next to another small group of people, pretending to be focused on their conversation and trying to completely distance himself from it - Kruen's presence had already made Howard lose face.
It's over, all over.
Kroen understood that at the pinnacle of power in New York, his identity as "Head of the New York Branch of Black Rabbit Security" had become worthless after Ribbs's light-hearted positioning.
He knew that his chance to enter high politics might never come back.
No one will be interested in someone who is clearly labeled as a "subordinate", "thug", or "dependent".
The rules here are brutally clear: people only invest in real chess players and never place their bets on a chess piece that may be taken back by the master at any time.
Climb the political ladder? Start his own business? In the eyes of this group of people who look down on everyone, he was even disqualified from sitting at the table.
The melodious string music, the rich aroma of cigars, the clinking of crystal clear wine glasses in the hall... cut his fragile, newly woven dream of being the "King of New York" into pieces.
Kruen's face flushed red, and the knuckles of his clenched fists turned white, but his instinct for survival on the streets over the years suppressed the urge to roar.
He knew it all too well—this was the true seat of power in New York.
If he offended the political and business tycoons present, the "Black Rabbit Security" empire he had painstakingly built in New York would be torn to pieces by the tax, legal and armed forces in an instant.
He could still handle himself in Chicago, but here? He didn't even have the qualifications to fight to the death.
So, when the melodious string music sounded again, when Hamilton took Ribbs to the cigar room, and when the guests continued to clink glasses as if nothing had happened...
Kruen huddled stiffly in the shadow of the corner, like a body with its soul drained out.
He forced himself to pick up a glass of champagne. For three whole hours, he was like a specimen nailed to a pillar of shame, listening to every sneer, feeling every contemptuous look, but could only smile awkwardly.
Three hours later, the dinner was coming to an end.
Only after the last guest left the banquet hall did Kron finally break free from his frozen posture. Under the watchful eyes of the waiters, he straightened his back and walked out of the banquet hall step by step.
Late at night, at the entrance of the New York branch of Black Rabbit Security in Brooklyn.
The car door swung open, and Kron rushed out like an angry lion. Without saying a word, he rushed straight into his luxurious office and closed the door with a click.
The few close confidants who came forward looked at each other in bewilderment. They had never seen the boss lose his composure like this.
The next second, the storm came.
"Bang--!!!" A deafening sound.
Then, there was a dense, sharp sound of shattering porcelain - a heavy oak chair was swung up and slammed hard against the cabinet, making a teeth-grinding cracking sound.
With a "crash", the entire glass of the decorative wall cabinet shattered to the ground, and the souvenirs inside that symbolized the "trophies" were scattered all over the floor.
Roaring, dull thuds, and sharp shattering sounds echoed through the thick door, leaving all the trusted aides outside frozen in place, their faces pale. Even the high-tech equipment inside the office wasn't spared; the expensive curved monitor was smashed to pieces.
This devastating outburst lasted for more than ten minutes before it stopped.
Outside the door, Eugene took a silent breath, glanced at several core leaders who were also frightened, and made a gesture, signaling them to retreat.
He walked forward alone and knocked gently on the door: "Boss? Boss Kruen? What happened?"
There was no response from inside, only Kruen's hoarse, bestial breathing.
Eugene knocked a few more times with increased force, his tone filled with anxiety: "Boss Kruen! Open the door! If anything happens, brothers, let's handle it together! What are we going to do if you keep doing this?"
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