Chapter 16: Let's Do It Formally!

The recent conflict between the Jewish gang and the Irish has been quite satisfying for me.

I'm directly involved in it.

The daily operations are extremely cautious, always on guard against Irish attacks.

Currently, it's just Sean, Ryder, and me. While Sean and Ryder are diligent, their combat effectiveness is rather mediocre.

If anything significant happens, I'm the one who has to handle it.

Over the past couple of days, I've been considering the need for reinforcements.

The kind of reinforcements that are ready for a fight.

I haven't seen Bill for two days. After finishing the morning deliveries, I drove to Murphy Clinic and went to Bill's ward. I pushed the door open without knocking, only to be greeted by an unexpected sight.

Bill was lying in bed with his eyes closed, looking quite content.

The quilt was oddly elevated in the middle.

A lower body was visible beside the bed, clad in a white nurse's uniform and flesh-colored stockings, while the upper body was concealed under the quilt.

"Ahem~!"

I cleared my throat.

Bill's eyes snapped open.

The quilt's movement stopped abruptly. The woman quickly emerged from beneath it and glanced at me, her expression relaxing upon realizing I was just a visitor.

She hastily tidied her disheveled hair and, slightly embarrassed, said, "I'm just helping him."

"You have a visitor this afternoon," the woman told Bill.

"See you this afternoon," Bill replied with a smile as the woman left.

"It seems you're recovering well and full of energy," I teased once she was gone.

Bill chuckled.

"Her name is Monica. She's a diligent nurse here," Bill explained.

"Seems that way," I agreed.

After some lighthearted conversation, I shifted to business matters. "Bill, have you heard about the recent conflict between the Jewish gang and the Irish?"

"I have. It's been all over the newspapers," Bill replied.

He sighed contentedly and continued, "After our last attack, I felt we were understaffed. With the situation escalating, I've been extra cautious. I believe it's time to hire more people."

Bill's interest was piqued. "What's your plan?"

"Sean and Ryder are hardworking, but their combat skills are lacking. I think we need more experienced fighters, like veterans," I said.

"Who are you thinking of?" Bill asked.

"We can reach out to our old allies from the previous alliance. During my recovery, I met several people who might be useful."

Bill pondered for a moment, then looked at me with a serious expression. "Jon, I have a proposal."

"What is it?"

"Let's formalize this. You become the boss, and I'll assist you. We'll recruit a team, and I'm confident we'll become the strongest faction in the Jewish gang!"

Bill looked at me hopefully.

Formalize it?!

I pulled out a cigarette, offered one to Bill, and we both lit up.

Having been in this world for over six months, I've begun to understand its nuances. Initially, my goal was to focus on business.

Despite the differences between this world and my previous one, I believed my modern insights could lead to success.

However, as I immersed myself in the gang life, I realized that starting from scratch was challenging. Even with a successful business, wealth alone might not protect me in this cutthroat society.

Building a foundation requires navigating significant hurdles—funds, connections, social norms, and government regulations. Overcoming these challenges often attracts adversaries eager to exploit or destroy you.

The strongest opponents are the industry leaders who set the rules. Surviving and thriving amidst these powerful predators is exceedingly difficult.

As "Das Kapital" puts it, the accumulation of capital is fraught with struggle.

Being a gangster might be a viable path. If I can rise to prominence and build my own power, I could secure my future wealth.

Of course, I must also be cautious to avoid incarceration.

The cigarette burned down to the end.

I made my decision.

I looked at Bill. "Bill, would you like to be my partner?"

Bill's face lit up with happiness upon hearing my agreement.

"Of course. Just like in battle, you lead, and I'll be your second-in-command. We'll make a lot of money, Hardy."

I extended my hand to Bill.

"Crack~!"

Bill's hand firmly clasped mine.

As I was about to leave, I added, "You'd better recover soon. And be mindful of your health—don't waste your energy on distractions."

Bill smiled and waved goodbye.

---

Back at my residence, I retrieved a suitcase from under the bed and found a notebook.

The notebook was filled with names, addresses, and contact details.

With my decision made, I was ready to commit fully to the underworld.

From now on, I would go by Jon Hardy.

---

**Orange County**

Inside a restaurant.

Richard was washing dishes in the back kitchen. The pile of dishes was high, and his eye sockets began to itch. He straightened up and rubbed his hand.

At that moment, the fat restaurant owner walked in and saw Richard resting. He immediately shouted:

"Richard, stop slacking! There are many customers out front. Look at how many plates you've left unwashed."

Richard glanced at the boss with his remaining eye, then lowered his head and continued washing dishes.

The owner, feeling irritated, added sarcastically, "Richard, if you hadn't asked me for a job, I wouldn't have kept a one-eyed man here. You should be grateful. Some people are desperately looking for work."

"If you can't find a job, you'll end up sleeping on the street and eating out of dumpsters. So you'd better work harder," he said before turning and leaving.

Richard remained silent as he brushed the dishes.

A year ago, he was a sniper fighting the Japanese in Asia. He had no idea how many enemies he had taken down. But during one battle, his position was exposed and retaliated against with mortars. Shrapnel hit his left eye, leaving him permanently blind in that eye. After six months in the hospital, he was discharged from the army and returned home.

His eye injury caused frequent inflammation, and the ongoing treatment depleted his veteran benefits. Richard struggled to make ends meet in his rural hometown and couldn't afford his medical care.

Enduring the pain, he took whatever work he could find.

As a disabled veteran, he could only secure the lowest-paying jobs.

Being scolded by the boss had become routine.

He endured it because he didn't want to lose this job.

---

Hardy walked into the restaurant.

A waiter approached him, asking what he needed.

"I'm looking for someone named Richard. Is he working here?" Hardy inquired.

The waiter, showing slight impatience, responded, "Richard? Oh, the one-eyed guy. He's in the back washing dishes."

Hardy frowned slightly.

"I was told he works here. Can you call him out? Just tell him a friend is here to see him." Hardy handed the waiter a $2 tip.

The waiter's demeanor brightened upon receiving the tip. "No problem, I'll go get him."