Revenge Arrives

The next morning, Carlos woke up in a luxuriously comfortable bed, wearing a set of black pajamas. Rubbing his temples, he walked toward the door.

He had drunk late into the night celebrating, and countless people had been knocked out. He still had some lingering effects of the alcohol.

"Milord, please have some tea." A young maid in a maid outfit stood outside the door, nervous and hesitant, lowering her head as she handed over a cup of hot tea specially made to dispel the effects of drink.

Carlos took it casually, drinking as he walked, then went to eat breakfast. Hearing that Noah had arrived, he changed clothes and came down to the spacious living room on the ground floor.

"Boss, please take a look."

Carlos took the documents Noah handed him. They recorded the current strength, financial status, and various business operations of the Mike Family.

Flipping through them roughly, Carlos gained a general understanding of the Mike Family—now the power under his command.

After two rounds of internal strife, the Mike Family's original 2,500-plus members had sharply decreased to just over 1,600. Their strength had weakened considerably, nearly dropping them out of the ranks of mid-sized Mafia Families.

But regardless, the forces under his direct command had greatly increased—from a mere 200 men to 1,600. The growth in wealth was even more staggering; describing it as an overnight fortune didn't even do it justice!

Carlos's original savings hadn't been much—only a little over 500,000 Berries. But now, adding up liquid assets, real estate, and other wealth, he had roughly 2 billion Berries.

This was the Mike Family's accumulated wealth over more than twenty years. The family had dabbled in many businesses, but most were small-time operations. Their main income came from three industries: arms brokering—essentially being secondhand arms dealers—iron ore mining and sales, and protection fees from the entire East City district.

Among the three main industries, iron ore mining and sales and the secondhand arms dealing brought in the most revenue, while protection fees from East City were the least. The first two were pure windfall profits.

However, for the foreseeable future, income was likely to shrink significantly—especially the secondhand arms business. That trade had relied on the John Family as its main supply channel. With that channel gone, the volume of arms had mostly dried up, and revenue had naturally plummeted.

Without the John Family's permission, Carlos had usurped the Mike Family's position like a cuckoo taking over a nest. To protect their own standing and authority, the John Family would not let him off easily.

Unless the John Family eventually decided that dealing with him wasn't worth the cost—or that he could offer them even greater benefits.

In short, his crisis wasn't over yet. To firmly secure his position as the big shot of Iron Island, he had to settle things with the John Family!

And Carlos had no intention of lying low any longer. He was already out in the open—it was time to make a moderate show of force.

"Noah, pass the word: suspend the arms business for now. Keep all existing stock for our own use. Equip every formal Mafia member with firearms, and upgrade the gear for the combatants."

"Yes, Boss."

"For now, don't appoint a leader. You'll serve as a headman for the time being."

"The John Family won't take this lying down. Tell the brothers to be careful—don't wander around unless necessary."

"Even though they'll most likely target me, there's still a chance they'll go after you."

"From now on, keep a close watch on any strangers arriving on Iron Island—especially those heading to East City."

"Yes, Boss!"

"Dismissed."

After Noah left, Carlos sat on the soft sofa, slowly savoring red wine as he pondered how the John Family would deal with him...

Putting himself in their shoes, the most direct approach would naturally be to kill him and install a puppet in his place. That way, the John Family's interests on Iron Island wouldn't just be preserved—they'd increase!

Other more gradual measures, like cutting off arms supplies, were a given. That would weaken his strength, though arms were never hard to sell.

As for other cooperative businesses, they probably wouldn't be touched for now—unless they found they couldn't handle him. After all, in their eyes, a small fry like him should be easy to eliminate in short order.

The last resort would be to send a large number of Mafia members to attack him. That would be a move of last resort.

Should he stand his ground all the way, or wait for the right moment to soften, offer a step built with Berries, and play along for now?

Forget it. Man proposes, God disposes. Overthinking was useless. He'd deal with whatever came his way, adapting to the situation as it unfolded.

Carlos had become the new Mafia big shot of Iron Island. The Lord's Mansion had no desire to deal with him unless necessary, and the Marine branch looked down on him—after all, backed by Marine Headquarters and the World Government, they held little regard for organizations like the Mafia.

In the Marines' eyes, the combined Mafia forces of the entire West Sea were barely worth noticing. A single island's Mafia didn't even interest an ordinary Marine branch, as long as they didn't cause trouble.

Although the other two major powers on Iron Island had no interest, some smaller factions within the island did. Regardless of whether he could survive the John Family's retaliation, in their view, a big shot this young was already quite impressive.

Thus, Carlos had some social engagements lately. Besides those, he also needed to go out and inspect the various Mafia bases in East City.

The Mafia members couldn't exactly be called rabble—after all, the Mafia wasn't a gang of street thugs. They had power, influence, money, and decent equipment. But their combat effectiveness couldn't compare to regular forces.

Not to mention the Marines—they were even a step below the guards of various kingdoms. If he had to rank them, they were at the bottom among organized forces.

At least that was the case for the men under Carlos's command. The subordinates of the Five Great Mafia Families were probably a bit better.

There were many reasons for this, but Carlos didn't plan to reorganize for now. He'd wait until he dealt with the John Family—only then would he have the time.

He didn't aim to drastically boost his men's combat power, but he didn't want them to fall short of ordinary kingdom guard forces. He'd strive to match the level of regular Marine units.

As for the elite forces of Marine Headquarters or the pirate crews of the New World—forget it. His foundation was too shallow for now. No amount of brutal training could reach that level. Those units were forged in blood and fire; compared to them, Mafia fights were still small-time skirmishes.

On the third night after Carlos became the new boss, he attended a social function and was heading back to his residence.

He didn't particularly enjoy these social events, but he had little experience with them and was still curious.

Three low-key yet luxurious cars, their bright headlights cutting through the darkness, drove out of East City and onto a road leading up to the hilltop mansion. Suddenly, the convoy stopped. In the glare of the lights, they could clearly see the road blocked by thick tree trunks and large boulders.

At that moment, from both sides of the road, five figures each rushed toward the convoy, wielding various cold weapons. All ten moved with agility and speed, like monkeys.

Twelve car doors flew open. Over a dozen elite Mafia combatants pulled out firearms, two of them carrying Rocket Launchers. They opened fire instantly—gunshots and explosions rang out, tongues of flame glaringly bright in the night...

"Finish this quickly!"

Someone among the ten spoke. Their speed increased further. In the darkness, the Mafia combatants couldn't lock onto them.

This was deeply unsettling. The opponents were clearly skilled in close combat. If they got in close...