Sicily lay in southern Italy. Across the Strait of Messina from its northeastern tip lay the Apennine Peninsula, and it occupied an important position along Mediterranean trade routes.
Therefore, when Luke came ashore in Palermo, he had expected to encounter fairly strict inspections.
To his surprise, Luke, currently posing as the smuggler Vito Corleone, easily bribed the local commander with just twenty crates of cigarettes, along with some ham and bread, and passed through without difficulty.
This showed that later claims about the entire Italian military being steeped in corruption from top to bottom during World War II were not baseless speculation.
After coming ashore, Luke noticed several tall men in flat caps, their arms covered in tattoos, covertly studying his group on the harbor docks.
With a friendly expression, he walked over and asked in fluent Italian, "Do you know where the Copper Bell Tavern is?"
The benefits brought by the Superman Template were not limited to greater strength and a tougher body.
Luke had also seen marked improvements in his learning talent and mental capabilities.
If Superman from the neighboring franchise truly put his mind to thinking, he might not be inferior to Batman, known as the "brains of the Justice League."
Though perhaps it was precisely because Batman existed that Superman could not be bothered to use his brain.
Luke smiled, shook off those pointless thoughts, and began speaking with the tall men.
Before setting out, he had only crammed some Italian, yet he could now speak the local tongue with a hint of Sicilian dialect.
That was also one of the reasons the Howling Commandos had repeatedly passed inspections by patrolling warships along the way.
Eventually, many team members had come to firmly believe in Vito Corleone's identity.
Even after Luke told Dum Dum Dugan that he had grown up in Brooklyn, the latter remained skeptical, believing this young captain might truly have come from Sicily.
"Mr. Corleone?"
The leading man asked with a frown.
"You can call me Vito."
Luke replied calmly.
Upon hearing him confirm his identity, the similarly dressed men immediately changed their attitude and became exceedingly respectful.
"Mr. Corleone, Boss Cosa is waiting for you at the Copper Bell Tavern! The cars are up ahead!"
He then waved a hand, and three black cars drove over from outside the docks.
The man opened a car door and waited for Luke to get in.
The "Boss Cosa" they spoke of was an informant cultivated by the Strategic Scientific Reserve.
Luke gave the Howling Commandos a look, signaling them not to let down their guard, then got into the car.
Soon, the convoy kicked up a trail of dust as it headed for the Copper Bell Tavern.
Cosa Alessandro was currently one of the few remaining Mafia bosses in Sicily.
The Mafia, which would become world-famous in later generations, was not doing well at this time.
In 1925, after Mussolini gained absolute control over Italy, he delivered a sweeping nationwide speech on the Mafia issue.
Through loudspeakers, he swore to all Italian people that he would cleanse society and crack down hard on organized crime!
He would completely eradicate the Mafia, this malignant tumor, from Italy!
No one had expected Mussolini to truly follow through and launch a ruthless purge of the Mafia.
On one hand, he directed Fascist military police to arrest nearly a thousand Mafia members. On the other, he directly raided their strongholds.
And after capturing them, he did not even bother with basic legal procedures, instead carrying out a full-scale bloodbath.
At Fountain Square in Sicily, people were executed every day, their blood seeping into every paving stone and patch of earth.
Thus, Mafia members died, fled, were arrested and imprisoned, or escaped overseas.
By now, Sicily had become a "pure land" without criminal forces.
People no longer had to worry about harassment from gangs, but they had to endure the terror of a dictator's rule.
Still, it was worth mentioning that the Mafia, weakened in Italy, had instead risen again in America and regained its vitality.
It provided later Hollywood gangster films with an inexhaustible supply of character material.
Luke, who had dealt with the Irish Mob and the Italian Mafia alike, understood that better than anyone.
Seeing Sicily's harsh conditions and the deep hatred for Mussolini, quite a few Mafia families had simply secretly thrown in their lot with the Allied Nations.
Cosa Alessandro was one of them, having been recruited as an informant by the Strategic Scientific Reserve.
Thirty minutes later, the cars stopped outside the Copper Bell Tavern.
Several burly, tattooed men guarded the entrance and stopped Luke as he got out.
"Mr. Alessandro, you intend to let only me go in? That does not seem very sincere."
Luke sneered.
The leading man looked rather uncomfortable. After a moment of silence, he said, "The situation in Sicily is tense, Mr. Corleone. Please understand. How about this? You may bring one attendant. Boss Cosa is very cautious, and this is for his safety as well."
"Since your attitude is so sincere, I have nothing more to say."
Luke took off his black wool coat and handed it to Manelli behind him, signaling that he carried no weapons.
Then he beckoned for Dum Dum Dugan to follow.
"Stay here and wait for me to come out."
Luke instructed.
Manelli nodded, holding the coat in one hand and a suitcase in the other—a submachine gun was hidden inside.
He was certain that if these Mafia men dared to try anything underhanded, he and the team could turn the Copper Bell Tavern upside down!
Luke strolled into the tavern, a gathering place for the Mafia.
Thick round tables were filled with "family members."
Most of them were strong, young enforcers. They were part of the "crew," specifically responsible for using violence to seize or guard territory.
Being stared down by more than thirty burly men, especially the notoriously vicious Mafia, would have made an ordinary person's legs go weak long ago.
Yet Luke remained calm, his steps steady, his presence not the least bit diminished.
"Mr. Corleone, welcome!"
The bearded man surrounded by the crowd like stars around the moon rose to greet him.
He was Cosa Alessandro, originally a minor boss from the Camorra Family, not much of an important figure.
Later, when the Mafia was purged, every family suffered grievous losses, and some bosses were even publicly executed.
Such iron-blooded methods and ruthless actions greatly intimidated the gangsters.
The unusual circumstances and timing instead gave Cosa his chance to rise.
When the pressure eased, he gathered a group of men under the Camorra Family's name and recruited quite a few capable hands.
"I assume that since Cosa was willing to meet me, he knows what he should do?"
Luke leaned back in his chair, his tone even.
Cosa was not only an informant for the Strategic Scientific Reserve, but also an inside man for the Allied landing in Sicily in the future.
In the original history, America's intelligence agencies had assigned Salvatore Lucchano, a domestic Mafia boss nicknamed "Lucky."
He was one of the big shots in New York's underworld and held considerable status.
On the Italian side, it should originally have been Don Carlo, but there had now been a slight change.
The Sicilian Mafia had indeed played a substantial role in the landing operation.
They provided the Allied forces with all sorts of support, passed along information, distributed leaflets urging surrender, and so on.
Therefore, after the war ended, Don Carlo became the mayor of Villalba, while Salvatore Lucchano was spared prison and saw his reputation soar.
If the Cosa Alessandro sitting opposite him proved sensible enough, Luke would not mind giving him that opportunity.
"Understood! Understood! I am prepared and awaiting the Allied forces' instructions at any time."
Alessandro revealed a fawning smile.
"I have already found twenty well-trained gunmen! It is just that getting so many people into Rome and arranging their passes is difficult—the time is too tight!"
Seeing Alessandro's troubled expression, Luke said blankly, "That is your problem to solve! Cosa, if it is beyond your abilities, I will find someone else. I hear Don Carlo, whom Mussolini threw into prison, would be very willing."
"Who the hell is Don Carlo? Sicily belongs to Boss Cosa! Even Palermo's governor—"
Before Alessandro could answer, the young man standing behind him stepped forward. He seemed unable to tolerate Luke's dismissive attitude toward his boss.
Luke narrowed his eyes and looked up. The other man resembled Alessandro somewhat, likely a family member related by blood.
What a helpful assist.
Luke had been worrying over a lack of an excuse to put this Mafia boss in his place and test his resolve to cooperate with the Allied forces.
"Elio! Shut up!"
Hearing his nephew speak like that, Alessandro hurriedly raised a hand to slap him.
The young man before him was not someone he could afford to offend.
Mussolini had already taught the Mafia a lesson. No matter how powerful criminal forces became, they had no room to resist the machinery of the state.
This young man calling himself "Vito Corleone" represented the American military, and the Allied Nations as well.
If he angered him, his fate would not be much better than if he had enraged Mussolini.
Bang!
But just as Alessandro's slap was about to touch his nephew's face, a thunderous sound echoed through the Copper Bell Tavern.
No one saw when Luke had risen or how he had pinned the young man named Elio against the table.
It felt as if his skull had cracked. Blood flowed down from his forehead and dripped onto the floor with a patter.
"Urgh... Boss Cosa! Uncle!"
Elio felt as though his head were a watermelon about to be crushed, ready to burst apart completely the next moment.
He had no idea where that terrifying young man got such strength. The hand gripping the back of his head, its five fingers clenched together, was like a pair of iron pincers.
The searing pain and terror of death made Elio's will collapse in an instant!
Tears flowed together with the blood, smearing across his entire face.
"Cosa, tell me. How does the Mafia treat people who fail to show enough respect to their friends?"
Luke slowly returned to his seat, ignoring the tense, drawn-sword atmosphere and treating the hostile-looking enforcers behind him as though they were air.
P.S. Three thousand words! Stop saying the author is short! Seriously asking for a round of support—if any big shots have reading lists, please help add this book. Thanks~
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