Chapter 253: The Lucchese Family? Fire an extra burst!

At 4 a.m. in New York.

Outside John F. Kennedy International Airport.

Dressed in a black suit, wearing a hat and scarf, Mike Corleone entered the restroom where two black men were smoking cigarettes; they exchanged glances when they saw him.

They were obviously either unemployed vagrants or petty thugs.

Their favorite haunts were KFC, park benches, and airport bathrooms, where you could often find people as sodden as muck.

As Mike Corleone was taking out his tool to urinate, the two men approached him, whistled, and said, "Hey, hand over some money."

The other man glanced at him before finally speaking, his voice magnetic but with a hint of hoarseness, "A robbery?"

"Right! Hand over all your money… OH! Shit!"

Mike Corleone turned his hips, and his urine sprayed onto the other's shoes; the black man cursed in frustration and, as he grabbed his head, Mike forcefully pressed it into the toilet bowl, while the other man, cursing, rushed over.