I Have a Question!

The leader of the Wild Dog Gang was literally called Wild Dog.

Following Wild Dog, Jogo threaded through the surging crowds of the main street and turned into a secluded alley.

The gang members clearing the way ahead acted in an utterly unbridled manner, ruthlessly shoving any pedestrians blocking Wild Dog's path to the ground while throwing in a couple of curses and a glob of spit.

Jogo was the one in charge of the cursing.

Wild Dog said he really liked Jogo's little mouth, which could curse without using dirty words—stylish yet punk.

He also said that after the meeting ended, he would give Jogo special treatment tonight, teaching him how to become a qualified gang member, and told Jogo to come to his bedroom tonight...

Anyway, after walking for nearly an hour, the group finally arrived at their destination.

--Sunflower Night!

Five large, dashing characters were written on the signboard at the entrance of the luxurious disco.

Upon arriving here, Wild Dog completely shed his arrogant and domineering attitude from the road. His chest, which had been tilted twenty degrees toward the sky, suddenly slumped, and he beckoned to his side.

A subordinate immediately offered a white envelope and a pack of brand-name cigarettes.

Wild Dog smiled ingratiatingly as he lit one for the man at the disco entrance who wore a white suit and a Homburg hat, casually shoving the envelope along with the cigarette pack into the other man's hands.

"Long time no see, Big Bro."

"This is just a little token of my appreciation."

Inside the envelope was half of the Wild Dog Gang's income for this month.

Anyone wanting to do business under the banner of the Capone Family had to hand over such a sum every month.

The man smacked his lips on the cigarette, weighed the envelope, glanced at Wild Dog, and accepted both the envelope and the cigarette pack.

"Wild Dog, you're early. Go on in."

Wild Dog nodded hastily, gestured to his underlings, and led them into the disco.

The interior of the disco was quite spacious. Although it was not yet business hours, all the lights were already turned on, and people had already taken their seats in quite a few spots.

As soon as he entered the disco, Wild Dog reverted to his arrogant persona, leading his men to seize a sofa near the front.

A subordinate grabbed Jogo, who naturally wanted to sit down, and glared at him.

Is that a seat for you? You're just gonna sit?

Once Wild Dog sprawled out lazily across the sofa, red wine and cigarettes handed over, the surrounding underlings folded their arms and began staring fiercely at the neighboring gangs.

Jogo shrugged and could only follow along with the foolish staring contest.

Gradually, more and more gangs entered the disco.

Conflicts began to brew.

At first, it was just verbal altercations.

Those gangs that arrived late and found no seats wandered around with a hoodlum air.

Seven or eight pairs of malicious eyes swept wildly about. It was just like some legendary trainer battle—the moment their gazes locked, they immediately began spewing harsh threats.

Nose to nose, spitting on each other, four large pectoral muscles pressed together, practically sparking friction.

Then someone started it, nobody knew who, and a wine bottle flew through midair, striking a gang boss on the head.

This officially kicked off the current season's disco melee.

The boss led the charge, rolled up his sleeves, vaulted over the sofa, settling scores and avenging grudges.

The situation escalated rapidly from small-scale clashes to engulfing the entire disco.

Everyone threw punches and kicks, trading blows with wine bottles flying through the air and howling wildly. No matter whose family you belonged to, you got beaten up first and asked questions later!

Taking advantage of the chaos, Jogo kicked Wild Dog twice.

Just as the chaos intensified further,

Bang!

The inner door of the disco was kicked open violently.

A gigantic figure over three meters tall walked in through the door.

A black vest, a dark green cape, and a signature ring of purple facial hair.

In the West Blue underworld, nobody failed to recognize this attire.

--One of the Capone Family's peak combat strengths, combat captain, Gotti!

Gotti's expression was expressionless, and he remained silent.

His thick left hand clutched a heavy chain, while on his right arm, a heavy three-barreled heavy machine gun reflected a chilling sheen. His eyes swept coldly across the crowd in the disco.

The disco instantly quieted down.

Wherever his gaze fell, even if someone had their fist shoved down another person's throat, the conflict stopped immediately.

The gangsters, who had been unyielding the previous second, sat down obediently like little chicks under Gotti's gaze, their faces breaking into ingratiating smiles.

The disco was filled with a chorus of "Big Bro."

"Gotti has that much pull?" Jogo whispered to the hoodlum beside him.

The hoodlum still had the footprint of Jogo's shoe on his face, and said in a low voice, "What do you know?"

"The Capone Family is one of the Five Great Mafia Families of the West Blue! Calling them the five kings of the West Blue underworld is no exaggeration!"

"Even the kings of those small nations wouldn't dare speak loudly when they see Lord Gotti, and they even have to pay protection money!"

"The Marines just let this slide?" Jogo raised an eyebrow.

Protection money, also known as the lesser Heavenly Tribute.

This was snatching business right out from under the World Government's nose!

Could those celestial beings of the Celestial Dragons stomach that?

Coughing sounds came from nearby. Someone's throat seemed blocked, though neither of the two engrossed in conversation paid attention.

"How would they handle it?" The hoodlum sneered with disdain.

"Do you think Lord Gotti's 23,000,000 Beli bounty was bought?"

"It was earned by fighting the Marines! Impressive, right?"

Jogo nodded: "Not going to prison really is OP! Can he beat Garp?"

"If you ask me, definitely."

"I think it's doubtful..."

Cough, cough, cough, cough!

The violent coughing interrupted their offline cricket fight.

Jogo turned his head and discovered that everyone in the entire disco, including Gotti, was looking at him and that hoodlum.

The big boss's gaze had swept over, and they were still chattering away.

Wasn't that showing disrespect to the big boss?

Wild Dog, who had been coughing to the point of smoke coming out of his throat, had his entire face twisted out of shape.

Judging by his expression, if the occasion hadn't been wrong, he would have pounced to take a bite out of Jogo.

Gotti's voice came coldly: "Who are you?"

Jogo puffed out his chest and proudly stated, "Wild Dog Gang, Qiao Yi!"

Instantly, every gaze in the hall converged upon Wild Dog.

Wild Dog's face turned green then purple, his waist hunching over: "Big Bro Gotti... he, he's new... new... doesn't know the rules."

Gotti did not press the matter. He let out a cold snort, dragged over a seat, sat down broadly, and began the meeting:

"Some of you already know the news. The Capone Family is going to make a major move..."

Wild Dog turned his head to glare fiercely at Jogo, his teeth grinding audibly as his saturated emotions were transmitted directly to Jogo through his gaze—once we get outside, you're dead!

Jogo paid it no mind, concentrating wholly on the leadership's speech.

The more he listened, the deeper his brow furrowed.

What do you mean Boss Bege is already summoning his subordinates?

What do you mean the Capone Family patriarch gave the order to wipe out Ohara in one fell swoop?

What do you mean to the death, slaughtering all the historians?

"Hey, hey, old man, don't tell me you factored this situation in as well."

Disregarding the fierce glares of the surrounding gangsters, Jogo snatched a handful of the snacks prepared for Wild Dog to calm his nerves.

To think that the very first major event he tackled after transmigrating wasn't handling the Marine Buster Call, but rather leading a mafia Buster Call to Ohara first?

Would this actually fly?

Gotti was still giving his passionate speech.

"...Want to become a member of the Capone Family? Bring back the heads of the historians, this is an opportunity for all of you!"

Hell yeah!!! xN

A cheer erupted across the disco.

"...Everyone will be rewarded, and all loot seized belongs to you personally!"

Roar!!!! xN

The crowd of gangsters was practically high out of their minds!

Gotti looked at the scene with satisfaction, knowing he had successfully duped these cannon fodder. He spread his arms wide and said in a booming voice:

"Listen up, three days from now, gather at the docks. Any problems?"

"None!!!" xN

Since the Capone Family was willing to let lapdogs like them participate in such a monumental undertaking, everyone was so moved they were practically on the verge of tears, weren't they?

The Capone Family's kindness could never be fully repaid!

"I have a problem!"

Right at that moment, a calm and forceful voice suddenly rang out, interrupting everyone's passion.

A hundred-plus gazes snapped in unison toward the direction from which the voice came.

After taking in Jogo's face, everyone froze in unison.

Why is it you kid again?

The big boss was just being polite, and you actually dared to ask?

Weren't you practically here to tear down the stage?

Soon enough, however, some clever people caught on.

Hiss—wait!

"Why does this script sound so familiar?"

Gradually, a series of unfathomable gazes drifted toward Wild Dog, whose face had gone pale.

Everyone present was a veteran; they knew what it meant when a subordinate bypassed his boss to step forward at a meeting like this.

It was nothing more than the boss having things he couldn't say directly, requiring a "clueless" subordinate to pass the message along instead.

That way, even if it displeased everyone afterward, it would only amount to a scolding about the underling lacking sense, without hurting the boss's face.

It was a standard tactic in mafia deliberations.

"No wonder he brought a newcomer to attend the meeting."

"Oh! So he'd already planned it out!"

Realization dawned on everyone's faces, and the gazes they cast toward Wild Dog instantly carried a hint of admiration.

"To dare play such tricks right in front of Lord Gotti, who has a violent temper and kills at the drop of a hat..."

"I couldn't tell, Wild Dog. Usually, you bully the weak and fear the strong, but you actually have such a gutsy side!"